#I don't want astarion to have to go through that

[kirain]

I know he's not your romance, but can I request a wholesome Astarion fic plz?

Astarion frowned as he and Tav entered the modest boutique. It was small, but clean; organised. It had an almost rustic charm to it, featuring large windows adorned with delicate lace curtains, which were tied back just enough to let the sun shine through. That was appreciated, as Astarion had grown weary of the dark.

He said nothing as his favoured traveling companion scanned the outfits on the walls, cupping her chin as she considered and rejected each one. Carefully curated as they were, she seemed to be looking for something specific. The soft lighting highlighted racks of unique frocks, hand-knitted sweaters, and artisanal jewelry, but she passed them all by.

Why did she bring me to this rundown shack?

Astarion huffed. Has she noticed how tatty my clothes are? No, she's not that perceptive.

His eyes widened as Tav's finger suddenly pointed at some lingerie behind the shopkeeper's counter. His heart sank.

Of course ... she wants to dress me in something risqué. Expose my body. Why am I not surprised? There's nothing more "sexy" than a vampire, after all. He bit the tip of his thumb, feigning indifference. So in the end, she's just like all the others. A horny, selfish—!

"No, no! Not that!" she laughed. "The one beside it."

Astarion flinched, trying to hide his shock as the shopkeeper passed her a plain ashmeadow outfit. It wasn't particularly bright or stylish, but the pattern was subtle, casually elegant, and paired with lightweight trousers, likely designed to ease movement.

"What do you think?" she asked, unfolding the pieces for a better view. "Doesn't it look nice and comfy?"

Astarion hesitated. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised every inch. Overall, the outfit was dull, at least compared to his usual garb, but pleasant in all the ways that mattered. It wouldn't grab attention, but it wasn't hideous. It wouldn't make a spectacle of his body, but it would complement his figure, his hair, his eyes. For one brief moment, he felt grateful, but quickly recoiled in mistrust.

Is this a trick?

He quickly waved at the suggestion, bidding the shopkeeper to take the outfit away, but Tav clung to it, staying his hand.

"Wait, what's wrong with it? You don't like it?"

"I appreciate your confidence in me, darling, but I don't think even I could make that dreary ensemble look good. That's something you'd see a pig farmer wearing." He gave her a seductive grin. "Surely you'd like to see me in something more ... exotic."

Disgusting, but I need her protection. Just fuck me, already. Get it over with. Why the song and dance? Why the charade? Am I not being forward enough? Perhaps I should should try the 'lonely bachelor' angle.That tends to work best on sensitive women like this.

Tav raised a brow, her confusion genuine, but Astarion didn't believe it. He couldn't.

"No, I just think this suits you," she said.

Astarion scoffed, thrown by her sincerity. There was no hint of sarcasm or trickery in her tone. No indication that she was fulfilling some mundane kink by picking such an outfit. But it didn't make sense. He hadn't been particularly kind to her, and he was only good for one thing: sex. Surely that's what she was after.

"Did you not hear what I said?" he snapped. "That's something a pig farmer—"

"What's wrong with being a pig farmer?" she argued. "They work hard, live free, and dress for comfort."

"And I'll have you know, that outfit is not for farming," the shopkeeper added, visibly offended. "I mean, I suppose you could. It's certainly durable, but it's more for ... sophisticated roving."

"There you go," Tav giggled, harmlessly. "Don't you want to be a 'sophisticated rover', Astarion?"

He pulled back defensively, pursing his lips to hide his fangs. They live free? Dress for comfort? As if I ever had such a choice. She has no idea! His fingers curled into a fist.

"Are you ... mocking me? Is that what this is?"

Are you trying to dress your toy?!

The air around him felt charged, a palpable tension that made it difficult to breathe. A deep red flush spread across his neck, creeping up towards his pale face. The anger was sudden, but uncontrollable, and he didn't know why.

Calm down, you fool. This is nothing. You've been through worse. He screamed internally. So then, why does it hurt more than usual? Why is it worse when it's her?! I ... I don't want her to see me this way, but I know she does! Who wouldn't?!

"Mocking you?" Tav asked, breaking the silence.

She tilted her head, the simple act pulling Astarion from is raging stupor. Her eyes were innocent, unassuming. And of course they were—he hadn't yet told her the truth about Cazador. The details. The depravity.

Hold on. Is this ... real?

"What are you saying?" she peeped. "I brought you here because I noticed how worn out your clothes are. Thin with crooked replacement stitches." Astarion's throat tightened, trying not to blush. "I just thought you might like something new."

"I ... see."

"If you don't like the black and white..." She smiled and gestured to the shopkeeper. "We can order something with colour. Do you take commissions? Can my friend here make alterations?"

Friend?

"He can, and we do indeed sew to order. It just might take a while. I'm down a seamstress this month."

Astarion paused, their voices fading. He looked down at the sleeved tunic and accompanying vest that Tav held close to her chest. It was thick, surprisingly well crafted, and more fashionable than he initially dared to admit. For a moment, he felt his unbeating heart flutter. New clothes. A whole outfit, just for him. He'd forgotten what that felt like. What shopping for anything other than a victim for Cazador felt like.

Against his better judgement, he reached out and rubbed the material between his fingers. Twill. Handcrafted. Warm. He felt a tingle as he realised Tav didn't choose that outfit at random. She'd put a lot of thought into it.

"I want this one."

"Sorry?" Tav said, glancing up at him.

"This outfit." He tugged at the sleeve, gently. "I want this one."

She smiled. "Are you sure? You didn't seem overly thrilled about it a second ago."

"Tch! Well, I changed my mind," he hissed. "What can I say?" His eyes softened. "It's grown on me. Kind of like your ... annoyingly infectious positivity."

"Alright, alright," she laughed, ignoring his jibe. "Can you ring this up, sir?"

Astarion's back stiffened as she reached for her coin purse. Money, right. That hadn't crossed his mind. As horrible as Cazador was, everything needed was provided. When allowed to sleep on a bed, it was there. When Cazador's guests wanted wine, it was there. Anything needed to rope in victims was given. He hadn't had to buy anything in nearly two hundred years.

"Wait, I—"

"It's no problem," Tav said, sensing his conflict. "I'm happy to do this."

"But..." He frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, don't expect anything back. If that's what you're after, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

"I don't expect anything back, Astarion." She handed the shopkeeper a roll of gold coins, then turned to him with another tender smile. "I'm just glad to help out a friend."

Astarion stood in silence, his brow twitching. A thought occurred to him—two words he hadn't felt the desire to say in two centuries. Two words he'd almost forgotten. He shifted from side to side, looking anywhere but at her, desperate for an escape from the vulnerability pressing down on him.

But I think she truly means it.

"I..."

His mouth opened, then closed again. He cleared his throat, trying to speak, but the silence lingered. He could tell she expected nothing, but for once he wanted to give a part of himself, by choice. Just a few words. The feeling inside him grew, a swell of gratitude he couldn't quite contain. Finally, he sighed and met her eyes with a smile.

"Thank you."

[astarionsbeloved]

house of hope vexed-facial-expression Astarion lockscreen wallpaper

[a2zillustration]

Now we're putting Astarion in Situations™

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[mercymaker]

me having a normal one today

[fangsandfeels]

Going through all the ascended Astarion stories, where Tav either breaks up with him and reconnects years later, bringing the messiest “divorced couple” vibe along, or becomes his spawn and ends up being completely miserable and at the complete mercy of the vampire lord, I got a vision.

(Short outline: spawn!Tav goes to Avernus to avoid being trapped in a relationship, badassery, horrors, and deep existential issues ensue. Full description of the cringe can be found below)

- Tav agrees to be turned into Spawn by Astarion, ignoring the red flags because they really wanted to believe him and didn’t want to leave him alone. However, after they do, they get slapped with way too many red flags in the face (the “as long as you remember who you belong to” phrase during the second encounter with Araj, the command to shut up after mentioning Cazador’s name, the deceptive reasoning behind why he isn’t making them a full vampire), Tav grows very aware of eternity that awaits them after they defeat the Netherbrain. And it terrifies them. They understand that they don't want to find out what being his consort means. They are no longer sure about anything.

- When Karlach starts burning, Tav talks her out of it and jumps on the opportunity to go to Avernus with her  (and Wyll), before Astarion gets to react and use compulsion on them. They aren't sure it would work, but it does. Small mercies.

- Between fighting off Zariel’s hordes and getting used to their new condition, Tav goes through heartbreak, oscillating between being angry with Astarion to missing him to feeling sorry for themselves. It's a cycle of angst and mental gymnastics, interrupted by battles and stirring trouble in the Hells.

- Ultimately, Tav reflects on the choices and actions that led them to this path. And when they find a way to fix Karlach’s heart, making it possible for her to go to Faerun for good, Tav chooses to stay in the Hells. Not even because they aren’t eager to confront Astarion and get controlled by him, but because they feel they belong there. Cazador might have planned the ritual, and Astarion might have completed it, but it was them who helped him do it -- they can be angry at Astarion all they want, they can tell themselves it's no longer him. They can spend years guessing whether he really wanted it, whether he is happy or not right now. Maybe they did fail him. It all doesn’t matter. They are as guilty for condemning these souls to suffering in the Hells. So, the question is: what will they do about that?

- Basically, a story that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with Astarion, and is mostly focused on a vampire spawn Tav, who navigates hellish landscapes, occasionally helping whatever poor souls they can, learning sad stories of victims who got lured into horrible deals, musing on existential questions and wondering how should they take their life when their luck runs out on them, and they get captured by Archdevils.

- While they avoid signing any contracts or any deals and focus on honing their skills and new vampiric abilities, they do seek ways to modify their body, so they could increase their chances for survival (yes, I freaking love Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust, how can you tell?).

- For an extra Divine Comedy (and angsty) flavor, Tav talks to an imaginary Astarion (the one they remember so fondly before his Ascension) -- the habit that started from a random “what the Astarion I knew would have said about this?” thought and kinda became a way to stay sane in this place.

[forcedhesitation]

tonight. I complete the balding gay boyfriend collection. I will right the wrong to which I was made to bear witness to. I've three of four men romanced already. all that remains is kissing that sad little wizard...and moonrise towers is just on the horizon.

[je-suis-problematique]

"I'm not a mouse I'm a wolf" I say while being too anxious to send Raphael a simple text.

– Chris

[frantic-fiction]

Tease 18+

(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav

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

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

Word Count: 3.2k

Mastarlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know what you're doing,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I liked those."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I guess I should wear more dresses."

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

"Horny bastard." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

[riseatlantisss]

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[hypertextdog]

YOU -- mm i want a fat man on me gaystyle but with clothes on

FURRY INCLINATION [Medium: Success] -- Any *animalline traits* to him, two-legs?

SENSATION -- That would do nicely, texturally speaking...

YOU -- not for now, but i'll keep that in mind.

POSTER'S GAMBIT [Easy: Success] -- Yes. YES. It's the perfect emotion. Everyone wants -- even if not that. So generalize, blogsman. Ambiguate. With this, you can finally build your *viral empire.*

BROAD APPEAL [Hard: Success] -- With your crowd: three faves, and a flirtatious re-blog from some fur-fag. Eight if the bitcoinette or the not-lycanthrope touches it...

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- Try again. We're *this* close to another "you have to let 'denny's parking lot at 3am' go."

YOU -- mm i want big men on me gaystyle #gay #mlm #lgbt #asexual

SENSATION [Medium: Success] -- But it's not about "big" -- "big" alone is nothing. Non descript. You crave *plasticity* -- you want to feel him pushing through, between your fingers...

FURRY INCLINATION -- Oh, yes. Sounds *sonft,* two-legs.

SENSATION -- *Really* sonft. If we must say it that way. And so *heavy* on our supine body, too. I almost wonder if we could...

New task: Administer the *auto-hand-job.*

SENSATION -- Yeah.

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- NEVER MIND THEM. Never mind any of that. You're almost there. Keep going, blogsman. *Earn* the U.R.L.

BROAD APPEAL [Hard: Success] -- Thirteen faves, four reblogs. None flirtatious -- none you think.

YOU -- what's missing?

BROAD APPEAL -- What do you think?

YOU [Impossible: Success] -- the *sapphic* factor.

BROAD APPEAL -- Exactly right. I *told* you I'm named this way for a reason...

HIGH SCHOOL G.S.A. -- Do it for Erin. And Michaela. I wonder if they're still...

BROAD INTUITION [Medium: Success] -- They're not.

YOU -- mm i want big men or women on me #lgbt #ambiguously queer

HIGH SCHOOL G.S.A. -- Ah-ah-ah.

BROAD APPEAL -- And about that word "big" ... you know what has to happen.

YOU -- but that's the core of it to me, kind of.

POSTER'S GAMBIT [Easy: Success] -- And to the fur-fag sector.

BROAD APPEAL -- A sector is nothing. We want the *website* in our hands. Even the proponents of Astarion, and the proprietors of "best girls"...

YOU -- Yuck.

BROAD APPEAL -- I know. But they're the only way.

VANITY [Easy: Failure] -- God, we'll be on *Ellen.*

BROAD APPEAL -- Enough of that. She's out.

YOU [Impossible: Success] -- mm i want anything at all #lgbt #ambiguously queer #asexual

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- STOP THERE. YOU'VE FOUND IT, BLOGSMAN. QUICKLY -- BEFORE WE BOTH FORGET -- TYPE IT UP AND POST.

BROAD APPEAL -- The known numbers don't go high enough. You've found a ticket out of here -- out of *Massachusetts.*

SHIVERS -- IN 2027, A METEOR THE SIZE OF A KLEAN KANTEEN WILL LAND IN THE CENTER OF ROXBURY AND LEVEL BOSTON WITH ITS ZETTA-JOULES OF IMPACT ENERGY. TOO SMALL AND TOO QUICK FOR EVEN M.I.T.'S OBSERVATORY-BOYS TO DETECT.

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- More important things than that are happening -- and sooner, too. Type it up, blogsman. This is the easy part...

YOU -- You type: "mm i want anything at all #lgbt #ambiguously queer #asexual."

SENSATION [Hard: Success] -- Stop. Go back. It's dishonest.

BROAD APPEAL -- This was never about you -- you were only ever the basis on which *this* could be constructed. If that...

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- Post it, blogsman. Make the world relate to you.

YOU -- You hit: "post."

YOU -- The progress bar reaches -- reaches -- completes. A green light indicates success.

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- YES. YES... Oh, I suppose we should have waited for *optimum posting hours.* It doesn't matter now. It's done -- and the onslaught faves will begin rolling in catastrophically in three... two...

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- In three... two...

Thought gained: Any day now...

POSTER'S GAMBIT -- Don't worry, blogsman. Just keep checking your phone -- the *wi-fi* here is *bunk,* anyway.

VANITY -- And once it does -- Ellen.

[tragedybunny]

My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader

Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.

“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.

There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.

Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.

“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.

“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.

“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.

“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”

The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.

Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.

With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."

It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.

The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.

"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.

“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.

An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.

“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.

Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.

That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”

A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.

“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”

He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Astarion…”

He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”

Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.

“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”

“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”

With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”

[deer-with-a-stick]

Me, going through the romance options: Lae'zel is hot, I'll try it out. Ooh, Karlach has a great personality I love her. Shadowheart's got some issues but she's grown on me. Wyll is interesting because I feel like I don't see characters like him that often. Astarion's got plenty of angst, I like it. I'm curious as to how Halsin's bear form would work...ugh how do I choose.

Gale, eating my boots and infodumping about his cat: Do you have a good place where I can die so that I won't murder innocents I'd appreciate it

Me: I want that one

[fangswbenefits]

Reading Session

Summary: Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process. 

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Innuendo. Edging. PiV. Creampie. After care. Precum.

Word count: 3.5k

Author's note: Yes. The book exists in BG3. Thank you to @hmdeath for helping me find it 🩷

You flipped through the last pages of chapter four of ‘The Quarta Sune: A Guide to Sexuality, Eroticism, and Emotional Fulfilment’, your eyes widening slightly from all the intricate and rather impressive positions illustrated with some notes on how to maximise pleasure for both parties involved.

Needless to say, it had your heart racing as the faintest of throbs settled between your thighs. You bit your lip, pressing your legs together as the thought of putting some of these pointers in practice gradually took over.

You flipped back to chapter three, taking mental notes and humming softly as you rolled onto your stomach, placing the heavy book on your pillow.

‘If one is to indulge in the ‘Waterdeep Caress’, it is mandatory that the one on top sets the pace, looking into their lover's eyes.’

It seemed simple enough.

‘...one arm should be wrapped around their neck as the other is set on their chest, caressing a nipple with gentle fingers…’

You nodded attentively.

The images drawn across the pages had your undivided attention to the point you didn't even notice you were no longer alone in your room until a swift hand snatched the book from your grip.

You were about to voice out a protest, but ended up deciding against it once you realised who the perpetrator was.

Astarion.

Of course.

He looked as amused as ever, inspecting the cover before his gaze travelled down the page you had been so focused on.

“Reading ‘The Quarta Sune’?” he tutted with a knowing smile. “My, my… feeling naughty, are we?”

You were on your feet in an instant with both hands reaching out in a pointless attempt at retrieving the book.

“Give it back!”

He held it aloft, effortlessly keeping you at bay. “I don't think keeping secrets from me is very nice, is it?”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as you let out a groan of frustration. “Please. Just… give it back.”

“I am merely wondering why you'd need to resort to this in the first place, darling,” he asked, feigning hurt. “I'm an open book in these matters – you need only ask.”

And that was precisely why you had bought a copy from Nansi Gretta at The Blushing Mermaid. 

Astarion was a very considerate lover, and you found yourself wanting to surprise him, too. To have a few tricks up your sleeve that he couldn't see coming his way.

But now you just felt disappointed as your plan vanished into thin air.

He was still holding your gaze, now with a hint of delight.

“This is not fair…” you eventually said, flopping onto the bed with a prolonged whine.

“Now, now, darling,” Astarion began, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat down on the edge, caressing the nape of your neck. “Far be it from me to interrupt your studies.”

You groaned against the bedsheets, feeling the urge to throw a tantrum from having had your hopes crushed.

“Go on,” he said, shifting closer. “Tell me why you were so enthralled by it.”

Oh, he was goading you.

Of course he was.

He excelled at riling you up and smearing it in your face.

So you chose silence, scowling deeply.

His hand moved to your back, toying with the clasps of your nightdress.

“Pouting? Really?” he said with a click of his tongue.

But his taunt was only met with more silence.

He then began to tug gently, undoing each clasp with an expertise that only his level of dexterity could provide.

A chill ran down your freshly exposed skin, fingers pushing the fabric apart in their wake and travelling down your back.

That persistent throb in between your legs from before threatened to quicken as you caved under his touch.

You flinched away from his grasp, throwing him an irritated glance.

He held the book in his other hand, and extended his arm to you. “Feisty today, sweetheart? Here, have your book.”

With a pout, you promptly retrieved it.

Astarion chuckled, his eyes dropping to your chest. “Do carry on being a tease – I am rather enjoying the view myself.”

You followed his gaze, suddenly made aware that the sudden motion had caused your nightdress to come apart and roll down your arms, exposing your breasts.

“Shit,” you hissed, dropping the book and fumbling with fabric to regain your modesty.

But the damage was done and you were left all flustered under his unwavering gaze.

“Will you tell me why you were reading this book?” he insisted, offering a coy smile. “Was it a fit of depravity that overcame you?”

“No!” you said, the impending feeling of defeat looming over you. “I just… I wanted to see if I could find something – anything – to surprise you with.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Surprise me? How come?”

Your face was swallowed in heat as your eyes darted to the book. “Well, you've probably read it, haven't you?”

“I haven't, but I reckon it's a pile of utter rubbish.”

What?

“But… I got it at The Blushing Mermaid.”

An understanding smile curled his lips. “All the more reason. See, darling,” he said, bringing his knuckles to caress your arm, “you don't learn these tricks from books.”

A frown settled on your face. “But…”

His hand found yours and he rubbed each finger with the pad of his thumb. “Experience is still the best teacher.”

“You're no fun,” you said, sticking your tongue out before rolling over on your stomach and snapping the book open to continue your reading.

For a moment, you chanted victory inwardly as not another teasing remark was heard from him.

But Astarion wasn't easily silenced.

Not for long, anyway.

You tried to focus on erotic drawings in front of you, ignoring how the bed shifted slightly under you.

And then each of his legs was on either side of your thighs, caging you under him.

“Very well, then,” he said, hiking the hem of your nightdress up until it was resting at the small of your back, exposing your backside to him. “If you're so adamant about this, who am I to deny you?”

You glanced over your shoulder and were met with the most devious grin ever.

What was he up to?

His hands settled on each cheek, groping the rounded and taut flesh underneath.

Oh…

He alternated between soft and firm squeezes for a long while, and you had already lost any semblance of concentration.

You felt him pat one cheek twice before his cool lips were suddenly at your ear, drawing a shiver from you.

“Astarion… what are you doing?”

You felt a soft kiss being pressed to your neck. “You're obviously eager to learn a few tricks from this book,” he whispered, as his hands travelled down your sides before gripping your waist rather firmly. “So teach me, darling.”

Inevitably, your eyes widened at his proposition and you immediately propped yourself on your elbows, turning your head to meet his eyes.

The new angle gave him the perfect opportunity to steal a kiss from you.

It was fleeting and clearly not his main focus, so he pulled from your lips.

“You are going to read to me your favourite passages.”

“What?”

“I am sure you've managed to find something interesting by now,” he carried on, pecking the tip of your nose. “And I don't mind being proven wrong about this book.”

It would have been easier to dismiss his request if his hardening cock wasn't so firmly pressed against the swell of your backside.

“I can just tell you…” you said, swallowing hard.

He simply chuckled. “You said I was no fun, so I am making sure this is fun.”

You gazed down at the open book in front of you, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue.

“And, darling?” he called from behind you. “If you stop, I stop.”

And suddenly, the sound of fabric being ripped filled the room.

Your underwear had been effortlessly torn apart, granting him exclusive access to your now soaked core.

You shuddered under him, tilting your head to meet his crimson eyes. “What do you mean?”

“If you stop reading, I stop fucking you.”

The crudeness in his words was enough to draw a gasp from you, and mainly because you knew he meant what he said.

Astarion wasn't one to hand out empty warnings.

It soon dawned on you that he had caught a glimpse of the page you were currently gripping, providing him with enough material to use as leverage against you.

Fuck.

“Isn't this the one you want to try out?” he cooed, pressing his erection against your backside once more. “It seems like we are already halfway through.”

Instinct guided the next few rolls of your hips, yearning for more friction, not at all interested in wasting time reading anything from this book, when the subject of your desires was all you wanted to focus on.

But Astarion disagreed.

In fact, it was the loud tapping of his fingers next to the explicit diagrams of the ‘Prone Delight’ position that snapped you out of your lust-filled haze.

“Read it out loud.”

You groaned, frustration evident in your voice. “But you can see it…”

He pressed his strained cock harder into you and you yelped from the sudden pressure.

“Read. It.”

Somehow, you found the will to fix your gaze back on the now crinkled page, fingers quivering as you skipped the first steps of the visual guide, darting your eyes down until you found what to read out loud next.

The urge to arch your back nearly overtook you as you read through the instructions.

You cleared your throat. “‘As soon as your partner is flat on their stomach, proceed to place a firm pillow under their hips to elevate them to place them at an ideal angle.”

Astarion quickly darted to his side, launching forward to grip a pillow on the far end of the bed.

You glanced to your side as soon as you heard the sound of laces being unfastened, freeing his cock with a hiss of pure relief.

He pumped it twice as if urging it to harden even more.

“Why did you stop?”

You jolted from how harsh he sounded, but his tone had an immediate effect on your clit, causing it to pulse more intensely than before.

The bed dipped and creaked under his knees as shifted before patting the side of your waist. “Up.”

You immediately complied, raising your hips high enough for him to place the pillow under them, effectively causing you to gasp.

Astarion smacked your backside softly, urging you, and you felt a gush of wetness spill down your folds as you clenched again.

“‘The legs must be pressed tightly together to further increase the tightness’,” you said, but your voice faltered as soon as his firm hands were suddenly on your thighs, ensuring you followed the instructions, which caused your swollen clit to be squeezed in between your soaked folds. “Gods…”

He pulled away at once. “You stop, I stop, darling.”

You immediately clenched hard around nothing, your body yearning for his cock.

“Please…” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than to tear the page apart and spread your legs to invite him in.

Tough luck.

Astarion was in no mood to cooperate with your request.

“You wanted to surprise me, didn't you?” he cooed, lovingly stroking your plump cheek before giving it a squeeze. “Then go ahead and show me how you can keep your pretty head focused whilst taking my cock.”

Another clench.

A more violent one this time.

Followed by a groan of frustration as you desperately clawed at the book, knowing you'd have to carry on.

“‘The other partner must straddle their legs from behind and…’” your voice cracked when he positioned himself atop your thighs, his cock already nudging at your entrance. “... and…” Astarion stilled right away and you groaned. “... and slowly initiate the act of p-penetration’.”

He seemed satisfied enough with your performance as proceeded to drag his tip along your folds, coating it in your wetness.

“Like so?” he then asked as he slowly began to stretch you open, earning a sob from you from how thick he was. 

“Yes…” 

His thighs caged yours, preventing you from parting your legs as he struggled to bottom out.

“Gods… why do you have to be so tight,” he hissed in frustration, probably realising this position wasn't all that favourable. “Keep reading.”

You wanted to protest, but you just couldn't speak as you tried to take all of him in spite of your tightness.

And before you could feel full with his cock, Astarion withdrew from you in one swift motion, causing you to almost cry out.

“No! No…no…” you sobbed, feeling your walls squeeze as if that would magically bring him back inside. “Astarion… please…”

He had the nerve to chuckle. “Trust  me. I want nothing more than to sink all the way in, but we had a deal. Now, read.”

This was pure torture.

He was too good at making you crave him.

And you were too weak to resist him.

With newfound strength, you managed to move to the next step, sniffling. “‘A gentle pace should be initiated first, before setting for a more forceful one, with long and deep thrusts’...”

Just as expected, he was sliding back inside you once again, rewarding your perseverance.

“‘If there is any sign of discomfort, it is advised to halt at once’,” you managed to say in between throaty moans.

Astarion bottomed out before you could initiate the next sentence, letting out a delicious groan of pleasure. 

You needed more.

You needed him to roll those sweet hips of his.

“‘It is advised to alternate the pace according to…’” A sobby moan left your throat as he slid all the way out before plunging back inside and setting a relentless pace. “... ‘...according to the partner's body language and vocal cues…’” You paused again as creamy lewd sounds filled your ears. It was getting harder and harder to keep your vision straight as he fucked you so good.

But, as soon as you failed to deliver an unwavering diction, Astarion stilled inside you, causing you to instinctively clench around his cock, silently urging him to move again.

“What's the matter, darling?” he mocked, caressing your backside with both hands, fingers digging into your flesh. “You wanted to teach me, so do it.”

There was nothing in this godsdamned book you could use to teach him.

And he knew it.

Astarion knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew what made it tick and what had you beg for more.

But still, you endured, as your lust for him overcame everything else.

“‘This position has been described as one that allows the partner on top to get as deep as possible whilst experiencing unprecedented tightness.’” 

You weren't sure how you managed to say all of it in one go, but it was enough to have him slam into you harder than before.

It was almost embarrassing how easily soaked you got from being told what to do, but you didn’t care anymore.

And it seemed that Astarion was too lost in his own pleasure to notice you had stopped, so you allowed yourself to enjoy each thrust and groan you squeezed out of him.

He always sounded so pretty buried inside you.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he rammed hard.

As expected, his pace never faltered, but you wanted to give him more incentive and flipped the page, ready to commence your diction.

“‘The suggested position after–”

But before you could continue, Astarion snatched the book in front of you and sent it flying across the room with a growl.

“Enough of that idiotic book,” he snarled, lifting your hips. “On your hands and knees.”

He kicked the pillow from under you, without sliding out.

Your muscles were slightly numb from the previous position and it took you a moment to adjust yourself.

Once he was sure you were ready for more, he pressed a hand down your back, causing you to arch for him.

“You're too soaked for this to last much longer,” he said, sliding all the way inside, his balls hitting your swollen clit. “You don't need a book to have me come undone for you, sweetheart.”

You shuddered.

It was almost criminal how good this man was with his words and body alike.

Your mouth dropped open as soon as he began to speed up once more, wet and creamy sounds being heard in between the snap of his hips against yours.

The familiar coil in your lower abdomen signalled how close you already were with each slap of his balls against your clit. Judging by his grunts and less spaced out hisses, you could tell your own climax would trigger his.

But you needed more.

You needed the sight that would have you topple over the edge.

So, you looked down along your body, almost whimpering from the view: a single thick strand of precum mixed with your own wetness was dangling from your swollen clit, swaying with each thrust.

Gods…

You took a deep breath, embracing the wave of pleasure that was about to hit you as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

It came all at once and your arms quivered under you until you had no choice but to fall forward on the side of your face as your climax violently tore through your entire body, initiating a sequence of contractions that further had you tightening around his cock.

It was almost blinding and your mind blanked at once a string of moans spilled from deep without you, breath taken away from your lungs.

Astarion cursed loudly and you knew then, even through your haze of pleasure, that he had reached his peak.

Each contraction aided him in spilling himself deep inside you, your body craving his seed.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from your clit and how swollen it was, parting your folds. Then, you shot a brief glance at his handsome face, wanting to witness it contorting in pleasure and relief as he rode out his own climax.

As you came down from your high, you began to see the first drops of thick cum dribbling down his balls as he began to pull out. 

By the time he was fully out, a gush of cum leaked out, coating your folds and dripping from your clit.

It never ceased to amaze you how hard he always came… the amount of cum was obscene to say the least. 

He nearly lost his balance and you saw his cock completely covered in cum as he growled through clenched teeth, his fangs fully visible.

Somehow, your knees hadn't quivered and you remained in the same position for a while, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Eventually, you found your voice again. “You… shouldn't have thrown it away… it has some post-encounter care suggestions…”

Astarion was on his knees, his cock still hard and thick as his half-hooded eyes met yours. “Lay down.”

Was he not done ordering you around?

You chuckled weakly, but did as you were told.

He slid from the bed at once and you admired his backside as he sauntered across the room, taking a towel in his hand before returning to your side.

“On your back, darling,” he said, voice soft and caring as he placed a kiss on your flushed cheek. “Allow me to properly take care of you.”

You offered him a smile, eager for what was to come.

“You know, that was mean of you…” you said in between shallow breaths.

Astarion pressed a kiss to your forehead, parting your legs. “But was it fun?”

You chuckled, feeling your muscles sore. “No.”

He feigned hurt as he dabbed the soft towel along your folds, earning a jolt from you when it reached your oversensitive clit. 

“Do not lie.”

A thick layer of his cum slowly dribbled from you, which he promptly wiped clean.

“It was mildly entertaining,” you groaned as he kept on pressing adoring kisses along your cheek. “I'm surprised you were able to hold back.”

“Oh, darling… I didn't.”

And for the next few minutes, you enjoyed the comfort that came with the silence of being next to the person you adored the most.

Astarion was a dedicated lover.

He would have you come undone for him, but he would ensure the after care was just as rewarding.

As such, he would clean you up and offer you water and even a bath. And if you couldn't walk? He would simply carry you.

But you never wanted it to be a one-sided courtesy.

He deserved to be taken care of just as much and you would often be the first to pat his cock clean with a soft piece of cloth. 

Sometimes, you would aid each other simultaneously in between tired kisses and hugs, finding bliss in the trust that held you together. 

Masterlist

[vixstarria]

Missionary with the lights off

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

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader

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

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

Approx. 1,800 words

AO3

You woke up in Astarion's tent.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right there,” you breathed.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.  

One heartbeat... Two... Three... 

Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you felt complete.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That can be arranged,” you purred. 

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

“We could always die today,” you shrugged. 

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

Bonus scene: 

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

“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.” 

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

“We need you, Astarion!” 

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

“Save us, Astarion!” 

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~ 

Mark me as yours - fic re the following day

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

AO3

[lendeah]

Three times you get cuddly Astarion and one you do not.

“Don’t look at me like that. With the sweet little ‘disappointed I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it. I can’t be what you want to see in me.”

Based on this comment!

[ao3 link]

The first time it happened, you had been sleeping together for a few weeks. It seemed like there was an unspoken rule that you would leave soon after sex, giving him his space. You could sense his reluctance to be vulnerable and intimate, so you respected that boundary and didn't push him. But on this particular night, as you lay tangled in each other's limbs, there was a subtle hesitation from him. It was like a whisper of doubt, lingering in the air between you.

"Everything alright, Astarion?" you asked.

He seemed to get startled at this, as if caught off guard by your question.

"Wha- oh! Of course, darling. Everything is perfect."

You nodded, even though couldn't help but feel skeptical about his words. Maybe he needed space again.

"I guess I'll be going then," you said with a heavy heart, slowly rising to your feet.

You got dressed and began to make your way towards the door. Astarion followed closely behind you, his hands twitching nervously.

"Wait." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, seeing a hint of vulnerability in his usually cocky expression.

"I...I don't want you to go just yet." He admitted, looking down at his feet.

You could see the internal struggle within him, and your heart ached a bit for him. You walked back towards him and slowly reached for his hand, not wanting to startle him.

"What do you want, then?" you asked, softly.

He looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a raw emotion in his crimson eyes, and it felt like looking into his soul.

"I...I want you to stay the night. If that's what you want, of course." He said, hesitantly.

You could sense the vulnerability in his voice, and you knew that this was a big step for him. Astarion was not one to open up easily, and you were honored that he was willing to share himself with you.

"Okay." You replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Astarion wordlessly guided you back to his bedroll. This was new territory for both of you, but it felt just right. Hesitantly, he climbed into bed beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist. You couldn't help but smile at his nervousness; he was always so confident when it came to flirting and seduction, yet it was cuddling that seemed to make him flustered.

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the cold softness of his body against yours. It was a comforting feeling, being this close to him. He hesitantly reached out his hand, his fingers trembling as he gently combed through your hair. As you both lay in silence, Astarion's movements became more confident and soothing, his fingers carefully untangling any knots or snarls. You could sense the tension in him slowly dissipating as he allowed himself to open up and connect with you in this intimate way. It was a moment filled with vulnerability and trust, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

"Thank you for trusting me," you murmured.

Astarion stayed silent for a few seconds, before responding. "Thank you for staying."

Another significant moment was when he finally confessed his feelings for you. You had both agreed to take a break from physical intimacy, which you were completely fine with. However, you weren't sure if this also meant giving up your now nightly cuddling sessions together.

Your answer came when that night, as Astarion appeared at the door of your tent, pacing back and forth. You chuckled under your breath as you approached him.

"Do you require my services, Astarion?"

Astarion's eyes fixated on you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "My dear! I've only come here to see you." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "But perhaps we could have a more... intimate discussion?"

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. You thought you had left matters clear that same evening.

"Of course," you replied, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter your tent. Once inside, Astarion settled onto your bedroll while you sat beside him. He looked at you with a mixture of nerves and determination in his eyes.

"I wanted to discuss what we talked about earlier," he began cautiously.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. He cleared his throat.

"I... ehm. I know we agreed we wouldn't be intimate, but I was merely wondering if we could keep up..."

"Our nightly cuddle?" You filled in the gap for him.

"Err... yes," he grimaced awkwardly. "That."

You smiled warmly at him, finding his bashfulness rather endearing. "I'm glad you brought it up, Astarion, because I would kind of miss it if we didn't."

Relief shone in his eyes as he gazed at you with genuine gratitude, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"That's...I mean, it's only natural that you would miss it," he responded. "After all, how often do you get the opportunity to cuddle with someone like me?"

You rolled your eyes at his cocky remark, but couldn't hide the small smile on your face.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Finally, you broke the silence again.

"I think it's time for me to call it a night," you gave him a pointed look. "Care to join me?"

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise at your invitation, but he quickly composed himself and grinned wickedly. "I would be honored to share a bedroll with you, my dear."

As you settled down into your bedroll, you patted the spot next to you, inviting Astarion to join. He eagerly complied, curling up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His touch was both gentle and possessive, making you feel loved and protected. He nuzzled his nose against your hair before placing a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. It felt like a promise, and brought a sense of peace as you drifted off to sleep in his embrace.

The third remarkable time happened just before reaching Baldur's Gate, when Astarion was gravely injured in a brutal fight. Your heart raced as you tended to his wounds, frantically trying to heal him as the blood pooled beneath him. As night fell, you collapsed onto the ground next to him, gently pushing away sweaty strands of hair from his clammy forehead.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you before settling down next to him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his head in your chest. Your fingers traced soothing patterns through his soft ivory curls as he drifted off into a meditative state. After a while, you felt his usually tense muscles relax over your body. He was asleep, or at least in a state of deep meditation. You continued to stroke his hair gently, not wanting to wake him. In this moment, he looked completely peaceful – a stark contrast to the dashing rogue always ready with a witty retort.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed at him with concern.

He looked up at you, a weak smile on his lips. "I owe it all to your care."

As you lay there in the quiet darkness, an unfamiliar sentiment rose within your chest, filling it to the brim. You weren't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Astarion had become more than just a companion or a lover. He was your partner in every sense of the word – someone who understood and accepted you for who you were. And even though none of you could still put a name to whatever you shared, you knew for certain that this bond was something precious, something to be cherished. You realized in that moment, it was love.

A couple of days later, he met his sibling at a pub in Rivington and you had a disagreement that left a bitter feeling in your mouth. That evening, you waited for him in your sleeping bag, as was customary. But as the minutes ticked by, it seemed like he wasn't going to show up. You began to wonder if he wanted you to seek him out instead; so, you got out of your bedroll and crossed the short distance between your tents.

"I am in love with you," you murmured into the silence. The admission took your breath away as you shivered slightly under Astarion's touch, your heart pounding against his ear. Would he feel the difference in your heartbeat? Could he sense the shift in your feelings?

"Astarion?" you asked upon entering.

He was sitting on his cushions, staring blankly at the wall. At the sound of your voice, he turned to look at you with a distant expression, and you immediately knew something was wrong.

"Are you still mad at me from this morning's fight?" you asked, sitting down next to him.

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "No, it's not that," he replied.

You frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What is it then? You know you can tell me," you said softly.

Astarion hesitated, his inner turmoil evident in the clench of his jaw. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "I can't...not tonight. I need to be alone," he rasped out before turning away, unable to meet your gaze.

Your heart dropped at his words, the worry and concern evident in your expression. You knew that Astarion wasn't one to push you away, at least not without a valid reason.

You didn't want to leave him like this but knew that he needed this space right now, so you gave him a small smile and silently went back to your tent.

BONUS

The next day, you tried to focus on other things, helping the group with their tasks and keeping your mind occupied. But as night fell and you lay in your bedroll, you couldn't shake off the worry that gnawed at your insides. What if this was about your confession? What if you had overstepped ahead of time and he couldn't reciprocate?

You turned over restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you got up to go to Astarion's tent and at least get some answers. But just as you were about to open it, the flap of your own tent was pulled back and Astarion stepped inside, a conflicted look on his face. Before you could even utter a word, he spoke first.

"Forgive me for my odd behavior last night," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "I've been trying to figure out everything."

You sat down in your bedroll again, giving him your full attention as he took a seat next to you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what was coming. He let out a sigh and leaned his head against your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" you asked gently, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.

"I just...I've been thinking about what you said that night," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What did I say?" you asked, not wanting to assume anything.

He took a deep breath before answering. "That you are in love with me."

Your heart skipped a beat at those words.

"Did...did I misunderstand?" Astarion asked hesitantly, looking up at you with uncertainty in his eyes.

"No," you replied firmly, cupping his face in your hands. "I meant every word I said that night. I'm in love with you, Astarion."

He seemed to take a moment to absorb the weight of your words, his eyes blinking slowly as he searched your face. A myriad of expressions flickered across his features — surprise, fear, and finally... sadness.

"I... I am sorry, but I can't fully reciprocate right now, with everything going on," he confessed, his voice strained with an unfamiliar vulnerability. His admission made your heart clench, but before any words could escape your mouth, he continued.

"I've never been in love before. I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like, what it's supposed to be. But I know I have this...this feeling that keeps me close to you, that keeps my thoughts wandering back to you no matter where I am or what I am doing..." he paused, turning to look at you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest, "and I hope that is enough for now."

A wave of relief washed over you at his confession and all the worry you have been carrying seemed to disappear all at once. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, a warmth spreading through your chest.

Astarion returned the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, just holding each other tightly. It was a mix of emotions, knowing that Astarion was not yet able to return your feelings in full, but at the same time, you felt grateful and content knowing you had each other.

"Thank you for telling me," you whispered against his hair, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "I will wait for you, all you need."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and you couldn't help but mirror it. Astarion leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle small kiss. It was soft and sweet, sending a warmth spreading through your body.

You both curled up in the bedroll, Astarion enveloping you with his arms in a protective embrace. And at that moment, you were certain - if the vampire still had a heart, it would be beating for you alone right now.