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messrmoonyy · 1 year ago

Text

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold.

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place.

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid.

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party.

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more.

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery.

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back.

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl.

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress.

Always the gentleman.

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too.

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued.

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you.

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly.

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did

“ distinguished my ass “

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways.

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow.

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like.

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over.

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire.

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course.

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear.

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment.

“ that’s my girl “

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had.

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money.

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham.

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on.

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over.

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you.

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats.

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again.

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t.

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices.

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night.

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it.

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates.

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you.

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs.

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party.

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be.

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy.

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people.

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them.

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help.

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days.

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering.

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one.

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest.

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished.

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds.

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house.

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other.

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition.

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about.

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you.

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice.

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels.

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming.

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed.

“ good girl “

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had.

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them.

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little.

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head.

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused.

“ yeah? About what? “

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again.

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you.

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were.

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you.

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth.

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face.

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you.

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband.

He’d ask you one day.

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return.

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again.

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain.

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt.

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan.

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music.

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house.

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along.

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters.

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that.

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist.

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head.

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons.

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening.

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins.

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel.

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp.

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room.

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him.

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him.

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist.

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away.

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head.

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location.

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well.

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking.

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy.

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on.

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him.

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs.

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine.

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm.

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure.

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him.

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit.

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper.

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already.

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings.

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle.

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too.

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted.

And wouldn’t that be a tale.

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants.

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt.

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins.

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too.

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too.

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch.

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could.

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches.

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard.

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you.

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice.

“ y’think so? “

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too.

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him.

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath.

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him.

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired.

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait.

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did.

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing.

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall.

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush.

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you”

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless.

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect.

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer.

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter.

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock.

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up.

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days.

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose.

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed.

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself.

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure.

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it.

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek

“ mhm sure “

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

#Amy in the kindest possible way. keep scrolling #I know I’m posting late but I want i didn’t wanna wait until tomorrow sooo #ANYWAYS. FIRST ARTHUR UPLOAD WHOO #crippling fear or writing for a new character and fandom starts now!#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #Arthur Morgan smut #x you #Dutch van der linde #van der linde gang

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nerdallwritey · 4 months ago

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Snippet Sunday!!

Haven't done one of these in a while - whoops! Time really slips away, huh?

Thanks for the tags over the last few weeks @khywren, @xxnashiraxx, @vividiana, @deadly-diminuendo, @hellethil and anyone else I'm forgetting!!

I'm hard at work on Part 8 of Beauty and the Bard, and I've come to writing a part that I've been lovingly calling "smush" - smutty mush! Here's a taste of that:

“I like thinking about our future,” you admitted. “I like picturing you happy.” “Blech,” Astarion stuck out his tongue in mock disgust, but began to circle your clit slowly with his thumb. “Tell someone you love them, and suddenly they picture you happy.” You attempted to inch your hips closer to his hand. “You like being happy, admit it.” “Never,” he growled, leaning forward to kiss you again. “But I suppose I like you.” “I knew it,” you teased, closing your eyes with a blissed out smile as he inserted a finger into your dripping hole. “Blue,” he said, pumping his finger into you. “Yellow,” you responded breathlessly. “What are we talking about?” “I was also thinking yellow,” he smiled, as if that response made any sense. “Great! What are we talking about?” “The estate, darling,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “I think blue for the sky and yellow for the sun would be quite pleasant as opposed to the wretched crimsons, golds, and greens found in Cazador’s mansion.” “Ah,” you whined as he inserted another finger. “Sounds… sounds like the winter solstice all year round.” “Trust me, darling, there was never any joy or festivities to be had in that loathsome place.” “Our house,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut to focus on your words, “will be full of nothing but joy.” “I was afraid you’d say that,” Astarion teased, lowering himself to suck on your clit.

I rarely share smut from wips but this section makes me smile so I had to share!!

Thank you all so much for tagging me in so much recently, I've been really bad about keeping up but I see it all and I appreciate it all and I love you!!

No pressure tagging: @arzen9, @obsessedwhyyes, @busy-baker, @decadentpaperduck, @devnmon, @tillysketch, @astarioffsimpmain and anyone else who has stuff they want to share!!

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writella · 11 months ago

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1000 followers!!!! ♡

I waited till I got to 1.2k because I already had about 200 followers from last summer when I was writing about different things back in 2020, but now I feel I can officially say I’ve reached a new milestone.

I love writing, I love reading, I love our community, and I love getting to know you all and the more of you that have still yet to come. You’re all beautiful and kind and if you’ve ever commented on any of my fics or sent me an inbox message, please know you’ve made me smile endlessly since last July when I started. I can’t believe so many people have been reading my stories! :’)

Tagging some mutuals (and some amazing readers) who have been so supportive and inspire me: @taylormarieee @dustbunniess @liliesdiary @versatilehater @celtic-crossbow @louifaith @sinsandsweetness @grimesthinker @devnmon @hannahkay-411 @walkingtalkingsomething @noneofmyshipsarereal 💗

#writella on earth

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bodythieves · 10 months ago

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heyyy was tagged by @thestarkillers ! :-P

the aim of the game is to answer and then tag some mutuals you wanna know better or catch up with

favorite color: green! like murky

last song played: taste by sabrina carpenter

currently reading: the sinner by petra hammesfhar

currently craving: to play rdr2 and write

coffee or tea: coffee in my lil ceramic mug w some caramel pls

tagging (but u don’t have to do this!!) : @devnmon @dykergang @monstersw1thv1bes @pinkpunchline @vampirenicotine

#yapping #tag chain

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sinsandsweetness · 2 years ago

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t’s 1k celebration !

It’s a little insane to me that I have 1.1k of you following me and reading all my silly little stories. You’re all so kind and encouraging and so so patient and I love each and every one of u. Sooooo since I go back to school next week, I’m sure I’ll be a little slower in my writing and I wanted to spend this week just basking in the limited freedom of summer I have left. I was going to write a bunch anyway but I thought it might be fun for you guys if I did a little celebration. They can be a lot of fun and I always love interacting with you guys. So if you’d like, go ahead and choose from one of the options below, and send me an ask! Anons are welcome as always, though I ask that minors do not interact for the smutty stuff.

Here are your options:

💿 -> send me a character (or two) and a situation, and I’ll write a short blurb of how I think it would go (for example: reader brings a cat home but is scared what Rick/Daryl will think)

🫧-> send me an nsfw link and a character and I’ll write a short blurb about it.

⭐️ -> send me the title of something that I’ve written, and I’ll respond with a mini moodboard for it.

✉️ -> send me your own daydreams. I had this one anon send me the hottest little blurb, and I LOVED IT. So I’m hoping that anyone who wants to, will send a similar kind of smutty (or fluffy) blurb of their own in, for me and all my loves to read and swoon over.

💡-> send me a headcanon about any character and I’ll tell you my thoughts/add on to it.

🍌-> fmk! Send me three twd characters (or three eras of a specific character) and I’ll tell you who I’d fuck, who I’d marry and who I’d kill.

🪩 -> Q&A- send me any questions you like! As fun and flirty or as deep and personal as you want. Ask games linked here , here , and (nsfw) here if anyone wants <3

🍸-> send me an unpopular opinion (about twd, fanfics, or writing in general) and I will tell you my thoughts on it.

*Any of the submissions can be sfw or nsfw! I love either. Characters I will write for for this celebration are Rick, Daryl, Shane, and Rosita, and then Negan and Merle (selectively lol)

* i will still be writing and working on the prompts and requests I’ve already recieved. My inbox is nice and full but I am working on them, I promise. I might not write every submission, if it isn’t really my thing or simply can’t come up with a dialogue for it, but please know you are very appreciated nonetheless. Nothing personal:) Please look at my rules before sending anything in, but other then that… let’s get daydreaming!*

- this celebration will go on for one week, from august 30th, until september 6th.

tagging some mutuals: @ricksswhore @virtualreader @writella @catt-leya @murdadixon @olive3oil @colt-python @grimesthinker @ankhmutes @murder-jacket @sickyrat @megangovier20 @devnmon @darylsdix0nn @taylormarieee

(If you would prefer not to be tagged in the future, please let me know<3)

#T’s 1k celebration #celebration

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theteasetreads · 2 years ago

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Here is a list of stuff I love/recommend from writers I think are neat. Please be sure to check out their blogs and their other stuff too! I will be updating this list the more I find stuff I love.

*this list is arranged in alphabetical order

❤️‍🔥 = smut (18+) 💝 = fluff 💔 = angst 👀 = suggestive/implied smut

❧ @collecting-stories ↳ I am not sure if this writer is currently writing for Daryl at the moment, but I ADORE their Daryl content! Be sure to check them out, and maybe you'll find that they write for some other characters you like, too!

❧ @devnmon ↳ Rye is one of my pals, and they just so happen to write some of the best Daryl Dixon fanfiction ever. Like, ever. They write some of the sweetest, sauciest, sexiest smut I've ever read, and their writing style is just amazing. I am so bad at describing this kind of stuff, but trust me when I say that they are essential reading if you like Daryl Dixon x Reader!

❧ @haruhey ↳ So much has been said about Haru, but I truly cannot express how amazing their work is. Not only do they write the most mind-blowing, earth-shattering smut on this planet, but they also put so much care and detail and love into their writing. I love how they put tons of effort into creating a real relationship between Daryl and the reader character. It's truly spectacular. Please check their stuff out if you haven't already.

❧ @normanplusdaryl ↳ Ari is just starting on her writing journey, and boy is she already turning out to be another ICONIC addition to the Daryl Dixon x Reader family. I love the way she writes Daryl, how he's true to his character and does/says things I actually think he would do/say. That is a really hard thing to do! Plus, she writes angst super well, and, once again, that is not an easy feat.

❧ @starlessea ↳ This writer's work pretty much introduced me to the world of Daryl Dixon x Reader. In fact, her series, Here Comes the Sun, is what inspired me to write my own series, and my own fanfiction in general.

❧ @weretheones ↳ Madi is not only one of the sweetest, kindest, smartest, funniest, coolest, most talented people you will ever meet, she is also a stellar writer who truly understands the complexities of Daryl's character and basically everything about him. She is truly the gem of Daryl Dixon x Reader. She is an icon, a star, a revolutionary. She rocks my world. Oh, and she is one of the best angst writers. Ever. I don't even particularly like angst, but Madi? She does it so well that it's not even angst, it's just pure art.

❧ Back to Black by normanplusdaryl | 💔 ↳ Summary: Daryl comes home after many years to face the consequences of his actions. ↳ Word Count: 2.5k

❧ Doctor's Orders by weretheones | 💔 ↳ Summary: When a sprained ankle takes you off run duty, the new girl goes in your place. Which would’ve been fine– if she didn’t have that brilliant wit, gorgeous smile, and effortless skill. But she did. And it was only a matter of time before Daryl noticed too. (Season 4) ↳ Word Count: 7k

❧ Gone For Good | Part 1 & 2 by weretheones | 💔💝 ↳ Summary: It was easy to lose hope when everyone around you started dropping like flies. When the flu hit, Daryl saw your optimism drain alongside your health, but it wasn’t until the brutal attack of the Governor that he lost his. ↳ Word Count: 9k (total)

❧ Hide Away With Me by haruhey | 💝👀 ↳ Summary: Dancing in the dark, with you between my arms. ↳ Word Count: 3.6k

❧ In Vino Veritas by haruhey | ❤️‍🔥 ↳ Summary: After a particularly rough run, Daryl wants nothing more than to shut himself away from everyone with you. However, he’d agreed days prior to be your ‘date’ to one of Alexandria’s welcoming parties thinking you needed someone to share the pain of new people with. Guilt gnaws at him the whole night and he gets wasted to numb the feeling, resulting in you having to carry him home. The alcohol in his system and the way that dress hugs you makes him particularly… talkative, and as the Romans say, in wine there is truth. ↳ Word Count: 30k

❧ Late To the Party by devnmon | ❤️‍🔥 ↳ Summary: Daryl has a knife kink. ↳ Word Count: 7.1k

❧ No Rush by weretheones | ❤️‍🔥 ↳ Summary: Daryl took his time with you. ↳ Word Count: 950

❧ You Deserve the World by devnmon | 💝💔👀 ↳ Summary: Daryl’s been insecure about his age starting to show, and is worried he’ll lose you. You show him every way he won’t. ↳ Word Count: 3.4k

❧ You, You, You by normanplusdaryl | 💝👀 ↳ Summary: After a long night, Daryl comes home and you decide he needs a little break. ↳ Word Count: 1.2k

❧ All You Got by weretheones | 💝💔 ↳ Summary: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)

❧ Georgia by collectingstories | 💝 ↳ Summary: King County, Georgia. In a small town like that, where everyone knows everyone, people can get pigeon-holed into personalities that aren’t their own. Daryl Dixon was a troublemaker, a good-for-nothing, redneck kid who would grow up to be just like his dad. Drinking too much, smoking too much, and cheating his way through life. But Daryl isn’t any of the things people say he is and you’re willing to shoulder the burden of their judgement when you find yourself falling for him.

❧ Here Comes the Sun by starlessea | 💝👀 ↳ Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you’re not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn’t like your singing, or that you can’t use a gun for shit - and don’t get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he’s found a best friend for life, and that he doesn’t actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Updated: 3/13/2023

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic

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devnmon · 4 months ago

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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.

#devnmon writes #ryes ff #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #dividers by enchanthings #spawn astarion smut #spawn astarion fanfic #spawn astarion #astarion acunin #bg3 astarion #astarion baldurs gate #dividers by sister lucifer #blood divider by belliewie #dividers by saradika

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messrmoonyy · 1 year ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

* sweats profusely trying to find even 3 I like never mind 5 * I am truly my biggest critic. So this was actually hard lol. But. Yeah here they are. And thank you for sending!

Apartment 342 ( Tess Servopoulos x reader )

I like any fic where I can get into Tess’ head a bit. And I’m pretty sure this fic was my first proper go at that.

The forbidden fruit ( Arthur Morgan x Reader )

A fic that I love simply because writing it came so easy. I had so much motivation and writing flow. And I love to be descriptive when it comes to emotions and feelings and this was perfect for that.

Muse ( Remus Lupin x Nymphadora Tonks )

I look back on a lot of my Remadora fics now and don’t like them simply because I have improved a whole lot since then. Found my style and continue to work on it yk. But this truly was one of my fav things I ever wrote for them. I never really liked the idea of non magic aus but yeah. I really liked this.

You sunshine, you temptress ( Tess Servopoulos x reader )

Again I love getting into Tess’ head. I channeled a lot of myself into Tess with this one and I know it flopped ridiculously hard but I do adore this fic. Exploring a new side of Tess and also just making her vulnerable for once.

And she would rescue me ( Tess Servopoulos x reader )

Another lil peak into Tess’ head. Idk why I like this one I just do. The developing relationship and the not so happy ending. Idk. I like it.

I nominate @devnmon @celestemagnoliathewriter @queer-sadie-adler @xthescarletbitch + anyone who feels like it!

No pressure to do it tho ✨

#ask

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theteasetwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 3: The Wound Is Quick and Keen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, scary situation, violence and gore, references to death and traumatic situations (including child abuse) ❧ Word Count: 6.6k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Sir Daryl escorts you outside the walls of Alexandria for the first time, and though the excursion is mostly pleasant, it is rife with danger. A close call leads the two of you to a secluded cottage that only Daryl knows of, where a bond begins to grow.

❧ A/N: The princess is free! Well, kind of. She is so cute I love her. And Daryl... UGH. Literally the best. I don't have much to say about this part, but I wanna give a quick shoutout to all my friends who have been beta-reading this series! @weretheones @finalgirlrick @darylspissslit @devnmon @purple-witch-23 @littlelovingideas @spncupcake thanks so much friends!! I appreciate you<3 Also pls check out their work because they also write TWD stuff and it's amazing

The long, dark, sepulchral tunnel seemed at once cavernous and claustrophobic, with the light of the knight’s torch only illuminating a few feet ahead, but the feeling of a much wider expanse of darkness, in which shadows that may or may not have really been there lurked within the blackest corners. It was no small wonder they had been not-so-lovingly dubbed The Tombs.

Though you were sure nothing was behind you, it felt as though an unseen entity stalked you, stepping on your heels despite no real physical weight overcoming you. There were always rumors around court about these tunnels, how they were haunted by the souls of those who perished in the first struggle against the Dead, but you tried not to pay mind to those rumors. After all, that would mean your own mother haunted these dank, miserable passages, and that was a fate worse than death, you thought.

But Daryl knew this tunnel now, having made sure the path was clear and snuck his horse out to meet you at the end of the underpass just an hour before. Still, you found yourself not straying more than a foot from him, his broad, cloaked back becoming a strange source of comfort to you in this abyss of darkness.

“You’re sure there are no dead ones in here?” you whispered. “It smells of… death.”

“I went through here twice… No walkers.”

“Walkers?”

“Dead ones.”

Oh. A colloquial term.

Silence settled in again, with only the echoes of globs of water dripping onto the rough cobbled stone to fill the eerie space where words had provided some relief. In that silence, your anxiousness caught up with you―what if Elizabeth’s lie fell through? She’d informed the guards not to disturb you in your chambers, that you had fallen ill and needed rest. She left strict instructions not to check on you, for fear of contagion. And with your father out of town, there shouldn’t have been any chance for disturbances. Even so, the only thing more terrifying than this tunnel was the idea of having less freedom than you already did. Being confined to your bedchamber for the rest of your life, surely, would’ve been the punishment if the king discovered your escape. He wasn’t a cruel man, but his overbearing nature could inadvertently lead to such a cruel decision.

When a horse’s neigh startled you from your thoughts, you stumbled forward to cling to the knight’s upper arm, which flexed and stiffened in response to your sudden movement. Your chest pressed firmly against his back, he felt you briefly shiver in fear, though as your senses came back to you, you chided yourself for your jumpiness.

“S-sorry, Sir Daryl.”

If he wasn’t caught in a rather serious situation, he might’ve let his internal amusement at your persistent formality manifest itself in the form of a chuckle, but he only huffed instead. “Just Daryl.”

Blinking hard, you loosened your grip on his arm, reluctantly pulling yourself away. He seemed to radiate warmth, and this tunnel was so cold and frightening. “Sorry. Daryl.”

He peered over his shoulder to speak again. “Stop sayin’ sorry.”

With a sniffle, you nodded your head. “Sor―” You stopped yourself. “All right.”

The further you traveled, the louder the sounds of Daryl’s horse, which provided some comfort now. It meant you were getting closer to getting out of here, and closer to fresh air.

At the end of the tunnel, Daryl placed his torch in the iron sconce hanging on the wall of a modest wooden door, with a thick bar placed across to prevent the Dead (or alive) from getting in. There stood the knight’s horse, too, hardly visible in the blackness that matched his sleek, shiny coat. From what you could see, though, the horse was beautiful, with a long crimped mane of ebony and a long forelock draping messily, yet gracefully, over his eyes. Upon each leg was a slight feathering, just above his hooves, nearly cloaking them.

“What a beautiful horse.” As he lifted the bar with a huff, he looked your way to see your hands caressing the animal’s neck, and his black nose buried in the loose tendrils of your hair. “Oh!” you laughed. “Friendly, too. What’s his name?”

Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke bluntly. “Phantom.”

“Oh.” You sounded a little disappointed. “Well, that’s not a very friendly name for such a friendly horse.”

The knight scoffed as he took the horse’s reigns. “He ain’t friendly. He’s a warhorse.”

He didn’t expect such a look of excited curiosity to form upon your face. “Oh, a destrier? How grand.”

With one hand guiding the horse towards the door, the other unlatching the final lock, Daryl looked back at you. You could see a sliver of bright light pouring in through the thin line where the door was beginning to open. Of course, you’d seen light before, but not like this, not from this direction. Somehow, it was different.

“You wanna stand around talkin’ about horses all day or you wanna go outside?”

The last thing you wanted to do was spend more time inside this rotten intestine of a tunnel. “Lead the way, Sir―I mean, Daryl.”

Trying to avoid the inevitable smirk that formed on his face, he pushed the door open further, slowly guiding Phantom into the light of day, which allowed the horse’s coat to shine an almost reddish chestnut tone.

But the horse’s beauty was momentarily eclipsed by the magnificent glade of silver birch trees before you, a simple dirt path diverging through the forest. You’d seen these trees from high above, and from a great distance, outside your window, but never had you seen them so close, so almost within reach. Many times you’d reached your hand out, imagining you could touch the trees, but now, there was nothing standing between you and that forest.

As you stepped forward, you relished in the feeling of dirt and leaves underfoot. You’d felt the ground before, in the garden and the courtyard, but this was something different, something new. In fact, you wanted to feel it on your bare skin, the closeness of the earth.

While Daryl busied himself with readying the horse’s saddle, you were stripping yourself of your brown leather shoes, letting one bare foot take your first step as you worked on removing the other shoe.

The knight looked wide-eyed at you, your feet now sinking into the dirt beneath you. “What the hell are you doin’?”

To his surprise, you let out a sing-song laugh as you took several more steps towards the forest. With your head down, your hair draping all around the sides of your face, you were focused on the movements of your feet, as if you could feel the sensation through your eyes.

“I used to run around barefoot as a child,” you said, lifting your face to his. He was greeted by a wide, toothy grin, the likes of which he hadn’t seen upon your face. He’d seen the joyful expression upon your face when he offered to escort you outside the walls, but this was something else entirely, accompanied by bright, carefree eyes that captured the glow of the sunlight streaming down to consume the last of the early morning mist. “It’s just not the same in the courtyard at the castle.”

Your attention peeled away from the knight as you took in the trees all around you, tall and magnificent, surely hundreds of years old. The stories these trees could tell, the things they’d seen—you’d hoped that their knowledge would make up for your lack of it for the past ten years. If you couldn’t have seen such things, at least they had.

Absentmindedly, you meandered towards the trees, your arms outstretching the closer you got as you prepared to touch them. Daryl could only look on in slightly amused confusion at your wonderment for such mundane objects of nature, but he had to remember, it’d been a long time since you’d seen these things out in the wilds, outside of the manicured gardens and meticulously trimmed botanicals found within the walls of the castle to which you were confined. Still, the little laughs and sweet giggles that bubbled up from within you were undeniably delightful.

But Daryl couldn’t let you spend all day admiring a silver birch tree. He hopped upon Phantom and instructed the beast forward, until a blackness swallowed your peripheral vision. As you blinked your attention towards the knight, his hand now outstretched to you, you noticed your shoes had been stuffed carefully inside the saddlebag near his thigh.

“C’mon,” he said with a nod of his head. “There’s more than this.”

Your bare feet skipped delicately through waves upon waves of tall white beardtongue, the petals of which occasionally tickled your bare thighs when they got caught inside your gown. You had to admit the feeling gave you a rush so strong that you skipped faster through the meadow, careful not to trample over any of the wildflowers.

Daryl’s presence was a comfort to you, him standing at the edge of the meadow with Phantom’s reins in his hand, and your velvet teal cloak draped over the crook of his elbow as he watched dutifully. Though no walkers had come across your path yet, he worried most about the poor, soft soles of your feet being marred by the elements. These thoughts were always immediately dismissed, though, as his job wasn’t to fret over your cleanliness, but your life.

“Oh, Daryl!” you called out, alerting him a bit too well as he instinctively grasped for the hilt of the greatsword strapped to his belt. He huffed when he raised his eyes to see you entranced by the pale blue spotted butterfly resting upon your hand. “Look!”

Again, you let out a sweet laughter, the cadence of which tickled the knight’s spine like a feather being dragged languidly over each vertebra. With the tiny, delicate creature flapping its wings upon your hand, he admired your gentleness, how sweet your eyes turned when gazing upon the beautiful butterfly. It was strange—he’d been out here with you for almost two hours, and yet no walkers or bandits had crossed your path. It was almost as if your purity somehow deterred those things, those horrible things that plagued this land. Indeed, he’d never seen the world like this before, so much happier and sweeter than it had once been. Perhaps you didn’t need this world, but this world needed you. No, of course not. That was silly, he told himself, shaking his head to rid himself of his own thoughts. No one woman could change the world just by existing in it.

“Oh,” you sighed in a bittersweet tone. The butterfly flew away, your eyes following it for as long as it could before it disappeared beyond the hill.

Don’t be sad, princess, he found himself thinking, his own heart seeming to sink a little when your eyes turned just a little soft with sorrow. Please don’t be sad.

“Well,” you sighed again, your voice getting louder as you approached him, your hands lifting your gown just enough to allow you to step high over the tall flowers. As if by instinct, his eyes trailed to your bare ankles, then your calves, your knees, and just a sliver of your soft thighs…

Stop looking, that rational voice in his head commanded. But the improper, unabashed voice replied, But, oh, milady… What fine legs you have.

“This meadow is beautiful, but there must be more to see.” You took your cloak from him to swing it around your shoulders and clasp it around your neck, then circled around the horse to retrieve your shoes from its saddle. “Where are we going next?”

Daryl thought for a moment, but his immediate attention was directed towards the gracefulness of your movements, the way your fingers curled through Phantom’s forelock and tickled underneath his chin, and the way you nuzzled your nose against his… How gentle the warhorse was, as if you had some soothing effect upon him.

If Daryl was a superstitious man, he’d say you worked some kind of womanly magic upon your surroundings, wooing him and his horse and even the Dead. If he was a cruel man, he’d accuse you of being a witch, demanding to see if you bore the Devil’s mark or if you sank in water. Of course, he didn’t believe in sorcery or witches or Satan, but he did believe you had worked some kind of spell on him, one of a more corporeal nature.

“Daryl?”

He cleared his throat as his senses came back to him. “Yes, I, um… I know of a lake nearby. Would that, um, suit you, your highness?” He tried to speak in his best chivalric tone, though he knew not why. He never cared much for that before, until right this moment, and it seemed almost against his will. Maybe witches were real, afterall. Still, he wasn’t about to rid himself of this warm, ticklish feeling in the pit of his stomach, even if it was the work of the Devil.

A sweet, beautiful, kind agent of the Devil.

“A lake would be lovely,” you replied.

At length, you walked alongside Daryl, who let you guide Phantom this time. You’d insisted upon walking to the lake, giving the poor horse a break from carrying the weight of the two of you. It was no disappointment to the knight, who found that he quite liked spending more time with you, prolonging his time outside the walls to hold your cloak as you frolicked or to kneel and let you hold onto his strong shoulder as you brushed the dirt off your feet. It almost sickened him how much he relished in being of service to you.

And it was such a beautiful day, the perfect day for you to see the outside world. In your fascination, you were rendered quiet, turning in every direction to catch with your eyes every bird or deer or squirrel or insect that crossed your path. The woods were serene, too, much brighter and free of any pestilence that your father had so ominously warned you of.

Indeed, you wondered where the Dead were. It seemed too good to be true, considering the horrible memories you had of that night your mother died, of seeing her getting pulled into a swarm of walkers as she reached her hand out to you, calling for you. You still remembered how you struggled to reach for her, your fingers just grazing her trembling hand before you were yanked away by a guard.

Of course, you knew there was no way you could’ve saved her. Her neck and arms were already being feasted upon, spurts of blood shooting out and sprinkling in crimson globs upon your tear-stained cheeks, while her screams were increasingly drowned by the sound of her flesh tearing from her bones. When her body was taken in completely by the hoard, you heard one last scream—No, please, no!

As this memory inflicted itself upon you, the feeling akin to a knife in the chest, you stopped in your tracks, staring blankly at the vision before you that seemed to have crawled out of your head. Between the trees ahead of you, five or six of the dead lumbered clumsily over sticks and stones towards you.

When the knight pushed you behind him, drawing his sword, you studied the appearances of the dead men with shock. They wore clothes just like any commoner, one even wearing a blacksmith’s apron, another wearing a simple white linen coif upon her head, not unlike the ones you owned, except yours weren’t caked in dried blood, but the similarity was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Dar-Daryl…” Your voice faltered as you backed away, your hands clinging tight to the reins on the horse. “What do we do?”

It hadn’t occurred to him that you didn’t know the first thing about walkers, how to kill them, how to avoid them. He should’ve told you. He planned on telling you, but he got… distracted. So distracted he’d forgotten of the Dead’s existence altogether.

“Just stay behind me,” he said. “If one comes at you, you run.”

Run? Run where? I do not know these woods…

“All right.”

He held his sword with both hands, and you wondered how on Earth he could hold such a large thing, no doubt made of fine, heavy steel. He must’ve had a great deal of strength, not to mention the heavy armor he would carry in battle. Indeed, he was broad and seemed hearty enough to withstand almost anything.

A sparkle of sunlight reflected off the silver blade as it sliced through a walker’s neck, severing the head in one fluid motion that caused you to gasp in horror at the sight.

But Daryl moved so fluidly, with such ease and intensity. Every stroke was purposeful, and every kick and turn and step was made with confidence. As you watched in combined terror and amazement, you realized that he really was a great knight. His chivalry left much to be desired, but you could tell why he achieved his status as knight. Soon, the walkers were all headless, and he got to work plunging the blade of his sword directly into the creature’s severed heads, which appeared to still be alive.

You leaned forward in awe, curious about how the heads could still be alive when severed from the body.

But your thoughts ceased when a cold hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you with great strength down to the forest floor. You came down with a yelp, both from the startling action and the feeling of your ankle twisting in an unnatural manner, creating an awful pain that traveled all the way up to the top of your head to send you nearly passing out.

But the lone, legless walker kept you awake, yanking at your leg with its teeth gnashing horribly, creating a terrible clicking sound with each attempt to take a bite of you.

You pulled away, kicking at the thing’s forehead to get it away from you, but it was relentless, and soon set its sights on your neck as its disgusting, rotting body began to climb up your torso, its mouth dripping foul blood over your surcote as you gasped and panted and screamed in fear.

In the distance, you heard the loud whinnying of Phantom, then the sound of his hooves against the dirt, getting further and further away.

All this happened in a matter of milliseconds, with the knight moving quickly to tear the dead man away from you, throwing its growling body several feet away from you. With a grunt, he swung his greatsword overhead, bringing it down to slice the creature’s head vertically with a horrid squelch.

The thing fell back in its final state of death, allowing Daryl to sheath his bloodied sword and hurry over to you, his gloved hands feeling all over your arms and legs and torso. Your eyes widened at the touches, how brazenly he handled you with his strong, filthy hands.

“You bit?” he asked.

Oh.

He kept feeling you, lifting your dress to examine your calves with a stoicism and seriousness you wouldn’t have expected from a man with his hands all over you. But then, this was a serious situation. Get your mind out of the gutter, you chided yourself.

“N-no, I’m fine…” Dizzied from the sudden fall, you raised your hand to your forehead, then stroked it through your now wild hair. As you became aware of your body once again, you realized the dull ache surrounding your right ankle. “Oh, my… my ankle. It hurts.”

He lifted your gown again to examine your ankle, the skin around it inflamed and swollen, and it was angled rather sharply inwards. A grimace contorted the knight’s face. “Sprained,” he said. He knew that well, having seen the very minor injury many times in battle. Of course, if the worst injury one received was a sprained ankle, that was a blessing.

As his hands cradled you underneath the underarms to lift you, he peered behind his shoulder with a deep huff. “Damn horse,” he cursed.

Struggling to help lift yourself with your good leg, you realized, too, that the horse had run off in the midst of the chaos. “Oh, no! How are we going to—Oh!”

You felt caught in a whirlwind as the knight somehow slung you over his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the backs of your legs to hold you in place as he began to walk, not wasting any time to catch up to the horse.

“What are you doing?!” you cried out in confusion. Your sight was momentarily shrouded in darkness as your face was buried in the wool of his cloak, but you lifted your head to see the ground moving beneath dizzyingly as you bounced against his back. “Are you… carrying me?”

“Gotta catch up to Phantom… Ain’t gettin’ anywhere very fast with you limpin’.” He punctuated his sentence with a strained grunt, then stopped briefly to bounce you until you were more securely draped over his broad shoulder.

“How do you know where he went?”

“There’s a cottage not far from here. He knows to go there.” That, and he could track the horse’s trail quite easily.

You remained quiet for a while, until he hitched you up again. “You know,” you remarked, “this is not how you carry a princess. A rather large sack of potatoes, yes, but not a princess.”

He tried to hinder his laughter. It was difficult.

“How did you find this place?” you asked, sat upon a dusty old floor pillow beside the warm, burning hearth.

The cottage was small, just one room. You’d never seen such a modest home, with straw blanketing the dirt floor and a small hole in the roof to allow the smoke from the hearth to escape, with only one small window to let in a tiny stream of afternoon light.

You watched Daryl crush some mix of pungent herbs, water, and oil with a mortar and pestle, his hair hanging like chocolate colored silken drapes over his concentrated face.

He looked up for a moment, his hooded eyes peeking out between those brunette strands of hair. He chewed his lip, eying your swollen ankle. The guilt hadn’t stopped washing over him since it happened. How could he be so negligent to let you get hurt?

“I, uh… Found it a long time ago, when the plague broke out.” With the herbs crushed into an oily paste, he carried the stone mortar over to you, kneeling down to lift your ankle onto his thigh. You watched curiously as his fingers scooped up a glob of the slightly purple-toned concoction, then spread the paste over your swollen ankle. “Was fighting the Dead,” he continued as he rubbed more of the coarse cream over your skin. “A swarm cornered me here. Wasn’t much safer, though… An old man and his wife, but the old man had turned, was just about to take a bite of the woman, but I put him down.”

He noticed your shiver, then crossed the room to quickly procure a thick woolen blanket from the small straw bed.

“Here.” He draped the warm fabric over your shoulders. “Sorry it’s not much.”

“It’s quite all right… What happened to the old lady?”

He shook his head as he returned to his treatment of your wound. “She was already bit. I was too late… Cared for ‘er as long as I could, but no one knew back then that even just one bite means you’re dead. The fever killed ‘er… And then, I didn’t know she’d turn, too. Found out real quick that’s how it spreads, and that you gotta kill the brain.” He gestured accordingly to his own head. “And now this place is mine, I guess.”

“I thought you lived on your lord’s fief?” you asked. “You live here?”

He used his teeth to rip a piece of cotton gauze from its roll, then lifted your ankle from its place on his leg to wrap it and conceal the herbal remedy. “I travel between,” he said simply. “Stayin’ in one place never suited me.”

To an extent, you understood that. Though you always valued your home, you’d been stuck in one place for so long that it became less of a home and more of a hostage situation. “You must value your freedom,” you remarked. “Tell me, what did you put on my ankle?”

He scoffed through an ever-so-slight, crooked smirk. “You ask many questions, princess.”

A rosy pink blush bloomed upon your cheeks, accompanied by a gentle heat that wasn’t just radiating from the nearby flame of the hearth. “Well,” you said, straightening your back as his words reminded you of your status, “I think I’m entitled to know what kind of remedy you’ve applied to my wound, knight.”

He gently replaced your skirt over your ankles as he spoke, listing the ingredients. “Arnica, witch hazel, lavender… All good for pain and swelling.”

“Oh? You’re skilled in herbalism?”

“Another question…”

You tilted your head in faux offense at the observation. “I’m entitled to ask whatever questions I wish, knight.”

With a huff, he leaned back to scoot himself onto his own pillow, then kicked off his heavy leather boots. “I wouldn’t say ‘skilled’,” he replied at length. “Just… somethin’ I had to learn.”

Curiosity made you raise an eyebrow at that, and your prying was certainly nowhere near its end. “Why?”

Any other person had asked him this many questions about himself, he might’ve lost his nerve and said some rather vulgar things, but you were a lady. More than that, you were a princess. More than that, you were… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew you were beautiful, of course. He had eyes. There was more that drew him to you, that made him care what you thought of him and made him care about you.

Despite his usual tendency to become frustrated at this kind of questioning, he couldn’t bring himself to feel agitated at all. In fact, he felt at ease, like he wanted to tell you about himself. Somehow, that look in your eyes told him you weren’t just asking because it seemed the proper thing to do—you were asking him these things because you cared to know about him. No one had cared in that way before. Maybe the duke came close, but he didn’t have this effect on the knight. It was unique to you, this wave of earnestness and openness. For such a closed-off man, he found it very hard to keep his guard up much longer.

Still, he wondered, if he let his guard down too far, could he stop himself from scaring you away? You were a sensitive thing, he’d realized. You were innocent, too. The things he’d seen and done would surely frighten you, chase you away from him when he’d only just begun to grow fond of you in some strange way. The more you knew about him, the more you’d find him repulsive, he thought. And yet, it was still so tempting.

“Left home when I was sixteen,” he said. “Had to learn how to take care of myself. Well, learned most of that when I was...” He had to stop himself, his lips hanging open slightly in midair. If he kept going, he might’ve revealed too much, how “pathetic” his life had been. Surely you wouldn’t understand. You’d think he was trying to earn your pity, but all he wanted, as he looked into your eyes and melted into them like they were two pools of warm liquid honey, was to know that you cared about the words that struggled to will themselves into existence. Those soft, warm eyes would prove successful in swallowing him whole, into an abyss of unabashed honesty. Why was he bearing his soul? What good would it do? He didn’t know. In fact, he was sure it would only cause you to look down upon him, but he was wise enough to know that no one before had ever really asked about these things. No one before had ever cared like this. That was why he was hesitant—it was simply uncharted territory. But, then again, everything about you was uncharted territory, and if you asked, it must’ve meant you cared.

“When I was a child, my mother died,” he said. “My father couldn’t handle it… Turned to the bottle, became a lousy sot.” He swallowed hard as a bit of bile came to rise in his throat. He wasn’t sure what came over him—except, well, he’d never spoken these words out loud before. Certainly not in front of a princess. You didn’t stop him, though. In fact, you held a soft gaze, encouraging him with your pleading eyes for him to continue, not with pity, but with sympathy. How strange, you opened him up with just your kind, understanding face. “He, uh, would hurt me… Enough to break skin.” He gestured loosely towards the leftover salve. “This stuff would help with the bruises. Needed other things for the cuts, but I know all of it. Helps in war, too.”

Understanding his hesitancy to speak more about his childhood, you inquired about that—war. Perhaps it wasn’t a much more cheerful subject, but there was something you’d been wondering about since you first met the mysterious knight.

“War… Is that how you got your scar?”

It took him a moment to register your question, as he had so many scars now, it was hard to keep track of them all, but you gestured your finger to point towards his face, and he cursed himself for not thinking of the long red stripe running down over his left eye, At times, you yourself had forgotten it was there, its pigment blending in with the tone of his tanned skin in certain lights, but it had intrigued you since you first saw him.

“It’s a battle scar,” he answered. “Yeah…”

“I read that battle scars are honorable to knights.”

“They are,” he responded quickly, as if defending himself, despite a lack of anything to really defend. But his tone soon shifted as he processed your words. “You… read about knights?”

Swallowing hard, you averted your gaze to try to find some respite from the embarrassment of admitting that you found his kind to be fascinating. To say you read about knights would be an understatement. Your father housed an impressive collection of literature in his cabinet, many of which you’d secretly take to the solar and read by candlelight in the wee hours of the morning when a particularly restless sleep became too much to bear. Among those books were the most popular chivalric romances—The Knight’s Tale, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Le Morte d’Arthur, Erec and Enide, Sir Eglamour of Artois… Daryl wasn’t like any of those knights, though. He was… better, you decided. He was real.

“I do,” you spoke shakily. “I—I… know a bit.” You never stuttered. Why were you stuttering? Eugene had all but trained you out of the habit in your public speaking lessons. He hadn’t prepared you for the intensity of Sir Daryl’s gaze, how it reduced your poise to a shiver. And yet still, you were the most poised woman he ever met.

In fact, he didn’t notice your stuttering at all. It was hard to let anything distract him from every word you said, every open and close of your plush lips that were made glossy and smooth from suet and marjoram, with just a touch of red wine to paint a delicious tint across the plump skin. The musky amber scent of civet oil mingled with the floral marjoram to tickle his nose so heavenly, even from this distance. Each movement of your lips only carried the scent further, like it was floating on angel’s wings to him, and only him. For a brief, anxious moment, he pondered upon the taste, and the texture… How his lips would feel against yours.

Lust is a sin, he told himself, despite having not paid a visit to a chapel since his knighthood. Still, a knight should respect the laws of God. Like all the knights in the stories you read, he was beginning to face temptation.

With a quiet huff, he yanked himself from his intrusive thoughts to face you with a slight smirk. “I guess you’re fond of Sir Lancelot?” he asked.

Not at all, you thought. I am more fond of Sir Daryl.

It was twilight when you arrived back at the castle, slipping through the Tombs and coming out into the gloomy dungeons in the dark underbelly of the keep. To distract the guards that stood near your chambers, Daryl alerted them to a “walker that must’ve slipped through the walls,” but used the opportunity to sneak you into your room.

The knight ushered you in the room with a frantically waving hand. With a slight limp from your injury, you stumbled in laughing. Giddy, that was the only way to describe it. You were giddy from adrenaline, and felt a surge of fiery energy flow through you like a match being struck. Indeed, the whole day had been exhilarating, though terrifying at points. Ultimately, it was everything you’d dreamed it would be, and more.

And you couldn’t help but admit that it felt wonderful to break the rules, to do something reckless for once. You were a little afraid it would become an addictive habit, but it was worth it. To see the things you saw, to behold new landscapes and to feel unburdened by the oppressive walls of that old gray castle… Oh, it was a wonderful feeling.

You couldn’t contain your excitement much longer—when the heavy wooden doors closed with a quiet clack of the latch, you opened your arms to rush towards the knight with an exuberant, but hushed, “We did it!”

His eyes widened as he felt your warm, soft arms around his torso, his chest pressed against yours so close that he could feel your swift heartbeat pounding against your ribcage. Whatever overcame you, it must’ve been born of your excitement, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was excited, too. For what, he did not know. The day was over, his task was complete. He’d taken you outside the kingdom, allowed you to do as you please as he kept a watchful eye, keeping you safe from harm… Well, there were some slip-ups, but he was successful in his mission.

Perhaps he was excited because he, too, felt the adrenaline rush, the excursion having been the most treacherous crime he’d ever committed, and he’d committed a few. Petty theft and a few drunken brawls, to be specific, but you’d never know that. Not as long as he could help it.

Despite his hands and arms floating awkwardly around the curves of your waist, he didn’t dare touch you. There was an innate desire to, of course, but it wouldn’t be right. None of this was right, in truth, but there was no going back now, and he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t regret a thing, and that scared him a little bit. How on Earth could that scare him? Nothing scared him. His own feelings baffled him, especially when that musky amber scent came back with a succulent vengeance to assault his senses with the most indulgent perfume he’d ever had the pleasure of falling victim to. For a moment, he closed his eyes, taking in a quiet, deep inhale. That was the closest he could let himself get to doing anything he might’ve been wanting to do.

When you realized he wasn’t holding you back, you pulled away from the stoic man. Clarity returned to replace the intoxication of the adrenaline, and you cleared your throat to change the atmosphere back to that of knight and princess, not acquaintances of equal standing.

“Thank you, Sir Daryl,” you said. He winced for a moment at the title, having gotten a little accustomed to the simple name upon your lilted voice. Now, it was formal again, direct yet gentle. It still sounded beautiful, the way you spoke, but it was different. Only now, he noticed that it softened even more, as if your words were resting on downy pillows that filled with increasingly plush goose feathers each time you spoke to him. “Today was the best day of my life.”

Quite frankly, he found that very hard to believe. So hard to believe, in fact, that he let out a puff of air between lips that formed a wry smile. “What’re you talkin’ about, woman?”

“Woman?”

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes… What I mean to say is, what you’ve done for me today was what I’ve wanted for so long, and now I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.”

A pregnant silence hung in the air between you before you turned to cross the room over to your vanity, where your jewelry casket sat. You rummaged through to once again procure his payment.

“No, your highness,” spoke the knight, his steps getting heavy as he approached you from behind. “I told you, I can’t accept that.”

You turned to face him with a smile, and a glimmering ruby brooch encrusted in silver filigree, characterized by delicate, swirling arabesques. “Nonsense,” you replied. “Please, knight. It would please me so for you to take this… And, there’s always more… For next time.”

Raising his eyes from the gem in your hand, he searched your gaze for earnestness. Indeed, you looked not unlike you had that night you begged him. You had that desperation in your eyes, that lust for freedom and exploration. The difference was, there was now a smile upon your face. That was even more tempting for him. A smile like that was dangerous, as he was sure you could just about convince him of anything.

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time my father is gone. Of course, if you’re agreeable to it.”

Agreeable to it? Your beauty was intoxicating, and exposure to it was like radiation—surely no good for him in the long run. That all being said, there was something tempting about the danger of it all, the wrongness. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, not since before he was bound by the laws of chivalry. It was wrong of him to do this with you, but it had an effect like theriac; it was both an antidote and an addiction.

With a hefty huff, he took the jewel from your hand, stuffing it into the simple embroidered chaneries hanging from his belt.

That night, he agreed to another excursion, whenever that might be. Now, he seemed to be officially at your every beck and call, waiting for the signal to come and rescue you from your entrapment. In a way, he himself had become trapped, a chaperon condemned to serve you until your whims ebbed and flowed away from him and his outside world that he knew so well. It wasn’t this in itself that frightened him, though—it was the fact that when he thought of the next time he’d have to be your escort, subject to your will, he smiled. This realization of his devotion to you made the subconscious depths of his mind aware of one important thing: you weren’t just any princess, you were his princess.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

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devnmon · 4 months ago

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astarion plays with your hair

picture by @qtval | find their original post here!

summary: just a little blurb i wrote forever ago about astarion playing with reader's hair that i cleaned up and wanted to post. something comforting <3

wc: 436

It had been a particularly rough day.

Being the leader in your group of companions was stressful enough, but it was evident by the way everyone dragged themselves back to camp how much of a a toll it had taken on all of you. As if the sheer amount of blood drenched in your clothes wasn't testament enough to how exhausted you all were.

Astarion walked close by your side until the two of you arrived at the tent you shared, peeking his eyes over to check in when he could. The vampire become your rock, the one you leaned on, confided in, trusted with everything including having your back whenever needed. A massive amount of love and adoration that followed was just the cherry on top.

To have someone that devoted to supporting you filled your heart with a new kind of strength made this heavy journey you were on much lighter. But any physical capabilities you had drained long ago after the last battle of the day. He knew you were weak, you knew you were weak, and yet he kept you pushing all the way back to camp.

"Just a little while longer, love. Then we can sleep the night away until morning. No one's asking any more of you until then."

His words were enough to shamelessly support you without fail. A hand on your back every step of the way. You could have cried from exhaustion, the way your body felt drawn to the ground with each next step.

It was the warmth of the campfire and meal you shared that gave you a bit of respite. But exhaustion still lingered, pulling your eyelids down with each crack and pop of the singed wood.

Though the beckoning words of your vampire companion pulled you up from your position on the ground near the fire.

Come on, darling. Time to rest.

His tongue curling around each word calmed you, one hand around your waist and the other helping you to sit down. Always watching, tentative, cautious and careful with his movements. Changing to your camp clothes was the last debilitating part of your day, having snuggled up with your companion not a moment after.

Your head lay on his chest, welcoming the fingers that raked through your hair. It was a motion that always relaxed you, touch gracing the strands of your hair ever so gently. Astarion's nimble fingers wrapped your locks around his hands, one of the many ways he signals that he feels safe around you.

There you both lay, eyelids heavying as his soft touches lull you to sleep.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fluff #astarion comfort #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fluff #ryes ff #devnmon writes #dividers by kodaswrld

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devnmon · 19 days ago

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𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗.

eddie x reader x volt

warnings: fingering, fucking, sex while standing up, volt cums in his pants (teehee), cumming inside

summary: eddie and volt want to make sure you know how much they appreciate you helping them make up.

wc: 827

How the fuck did you get here?

Something about the boys arguing all day, you were sure…

Now you were pressed up against the wall in the back room of the club. After watching both Eddie and Volt quite literally kiss and make up, and then get each other off.

Four hands explored your body, Eddie with one down your pants, the other gripping your waist. Pushed up against Volt’s chest, your arms above your head with his large hands around your wrists.

It was completely overwhelming, having the two men stalk towards you moments before with lust blown eyes. To surround you with smirks on their faces, low voices sounding out in the warm room.

“Live wire, we’re just so grateful you gave us that push to make up. Let us return the favor, hm?” Volt had spoken to you, but your mind was hazy from how Eddie stared you down.

Within a moment, both pairs of hands were traveling the expanses of your body, cheeks growing hot.

Eddie had not only taken the liberty of lifting your shirt up to get a glorious look at your chest, but once his hand traveled between your legs, he’d found just how much watching the two boys kiss turned you on.

“You liked watching me and Volt, didn’t you? That’s so dirty. I fuckin’ love it.”

Now his hand pleasured you the way no one else’s did, tenderly and slow to drink in every single one of your noises. Volt was already getting hard again at your back.

“E-Eddie…” you moaned as his fingers curled inside your warmth. It was clear he was having so much fun watching you fall apart because of them.

“Tell me how good it feels, to have such a dashing man get you off. Go on, don’t be shy, live wire.” Volt murmured in your ear, stroking the skin on your wrists with his thumbs.

“It feels s-so good, Volt.”

“I couldn’t imagine anything different. Eddie’s always been so good with his hands.” His teeth and lips dragged against your ear.

“Mm— mhm…”

Volt’s hands then switched up, holding both your wrists with one set of skilled fingers to palm at your chest. The soft flesh pooled over in his grip, nipples gardening with his electrifying touches. Lightly shocking your skin here and there as he did was one of Volt’s favorite tricks to disperse over your skin.

It was enough stimulation to shut your brain off, but that was exactly what they wanted. To overwhelm your entire body as a way of thanking you.

You begged again for the dark haired man, taking your pleads to heart and indulging you with his cock. It took no time for him to grow hard again, the little sounds you made spurring him and Volt on again.

His pants and yours were pulled down in no time, Volt now letting your wrists go to let you pull Eddie in close when his cock was freed. The white haired man adjusted his hands to hold your waist while the other neared you, one hand wrapped around himself and the other tipping your chin up to kiss him feverishly. Eddie’s tongue down your throat made it so much more difficult to moan when he slid inside you.

When your knees faltered, which they did immediately, Volt’s strong arms were there to hold you up for Eddie to thrust into you freely.

The groan he let out when his thrusts picked up was oh so heavenly. All you wanted was for your boys to feel good and now that they had made up, they were doing their part to make sure you did as well.

Whimpers of their names slipped from your lips, all the while their hands were inching you closer to release. Eddie’s hips angled differently and pressed against your sweet spot with his next thrust.

Volt was enjoying the show, the shakes of your body creating friction on his clothed cock, sending his head falling back in pleasure.

Soon enough you were begging Eddie to go faster, speeding you towards your release faster than ever. It didn’t take long for his hips to begin stuttering as he reached down to stimulate your sensitive spot and coax you closer with him not far behind.

“E-eddie… Volt… I’m gonna…”

“That’s it, live wire… cum with me. With us…” Eddie’s gruff, low voice was enough.

His warmth spread inside you, feeling his length twitch inside you as you were sent over the edge and clenched around him sporadically.

Your body collapsed onto Volt’s, his pants becoming warm with release as well. The three of you stood, catching your breath and feeling the boys’ lips press soft kisses into your skin.

“Now, what do you say we all get some rest?” Eddie proposed.

“Yes, that’d be delightful.” Volt answered.

One of them scooped you up in their arms, carrying you to their bedroom and stroking your hair until you fell asleep.

#eddie date everything #volt date everything #eddie x volt x reader #date everything smut #date everything fanfiction #devnmon writes #ryes ff

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devnmon · 5 months ago

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solace in succor

spawn astarion x reader

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

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

wc: 3.5k

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

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

My cycle… you thought. Has to be.

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

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

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

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

“Darling, are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perverted vampire.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another kiss pressed to your skin.

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

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

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

“Astarion…”

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

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

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

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

“Better, my love?”

“Hmmh… still hurts a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That feel good, hm?”

His low purr in your ear only makes matters worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C-Can I… oh, gods. Please can I—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hah… mmh—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why must you torture me so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#ryes ff #devnmon writes #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #bg3 fanfic #bg3 smut #dividers by enchanthings #not my pics shoutout pinterest

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