#astarion x female reader

[ancuninfiles]

Art by @bloodoathlilith

I love Gale in the bg omg

(Full version on Twitter)

[pursuitseternal]

“Treat Me:” tender loving aftercare from the Vampire Ascendant in “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x Female Reader | E | 2K

For @starryjuicebox so he can tuck you into bed

Summary: He cradles you after a long session at his pleasure, and now the softness returns. He pampers, soothes, and cares for you, his beloved consort.

CW: soft A!A, mild injury tending, bath snuggles and hair washing, Oral female receiving, comfort, cuddling, and sunbathing.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

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“Such a good darling, an obedient pet…” his voice is a distant purr, your eyes barely opening as he lifts you down. The silken rope slithers from your wrists, the broad expanse of his shoulders catching your weight as you drape down his back. “Come on, my love, time to tend your love bites and other… markings,” he snickers quietly to himself.

You murmur something, too quiet for even your mind to register. The thump of his footfalls sounds muffled through the veil of pleasured sensations… too overstimulated from his intoxicating brand of pain and pleasure on these nights he spends with you in his special room… when he lets that edge of danger within him come out to play. You catch your breath, sensation slowly returning to your arms where he had you suspended. As he cradles you over his shoulder, carrying you up to your rooms, his fingers trace his bite marks that pepper the backs of your thighs and dot across the swell of your ass cheeks. And every inch of you is damp… blood, sweat, and cum, that heady mixture that coats your skin.

Closing your eyes, you let his touch caress, chasing away the fleeting flashes of pain from moments ago. You can smell the instant he brings you into your bathing chamber, the sharpness of his scent, of citrus and rosemary and brandy hits your nose and wakes you up. You raise your head to the dimly lit room, two dozen candles flickering in the purple of darkness makes everything shimmer. A snap of his fingers and a couple spells, Astarion fills the elegant marble bathing tub. He sets you cautiously on your feet first before handing you into the steaming water.

Crimson eyes flicker over your naked body as it sinks beneath the water, that bottle of potion shines a bit in the candlelight as he pours it into your tub. “Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he snickers, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around. A soothing numbness targets your most sore and swollen parts, and you sigh. Your body easing into the water, you barely notice the ripples of Astarion slipping his body beside you. It barely registers, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood… the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washes it clean of sweat and more.

For a starved as you can be for his touch, right now, you have glutted on it, overstimulated and nearly numb to that now-gentle caress.

A far cry from his bruising, marking, claiming touches that pleasured and teased you for hours.

But now, you are his treasure, cradled in the crook of his shoulder, attentive hands washing every offending swipe of grime that discolors your soft skin. The scents of flowers… lavender to relax, roses to pamper… it fills your every breath as your body finally softens and soothes the aches he’s driven into your body to the bone. You begin to hear his velvet purr in your ear, sweet words of praise and gratitude that you did so well tonight, words to affirm his love for you, to soften the literal blows he rained on the fleshy, jiggling curves of your ass.

The pain is intense but brief, and the pleasure is always more than immense… but it’s these moments after that make it all warm and worth it. Little droplets of scented water fall on your cheek as his hand cups your face, his petal-soft lips pressing tenderly against yours.

“Astarion,” you breathe his name, addicted to the way it feels to moan it… after all, it’s been ripped from your lips and screamed and whimpered and sighed countless times night.

“Yes, my treasure?” he croons right into the shell of your ear, a little shimmy of his shoulders, just as he once did during those hazy, nostalgic days in your camp.

You snuggle into his neck, lazily running your tongue over the sensual sinews where his pulse throbs. “Please… I’m feeling oh… so… peckish,” you give a tired laugh, one he matches.

An equally worn out laugh in his throat, he takes his finger, perfectly manicured nail point dragging across his neck to let a trickle of his blood run for you. The scent of it hits your nose in an instant, rich and powerful and complex like the most refined of vintages. You barely lick your lips first before you swipe along the scarlet trail he’s left for you. And then you suck, that thick, heady blood of his so smooth on your tongue and down your throat.

Aches and pains fade away, your belly growing more and more full with every swallow. It hums in your veins and restores your own power to you. Those longer nails rake against your scalp, teasing your wet hair and petting you like the precious little thing you are to him. A contented sigh from your lips, you release from his skin, a listless, pleasured twist of your mouth when you smile at him.

The palm at the back of your head presses your chin to his warm, waiting tongue, and he licks your chin clean. “I do so love to taste you… after you’ve tasted me…” he rasps against your lips, his words flowing into another languorous kiss.

His lips twist against yours… some brilliant idea inside his silver-curled head that he wastes no time acting on. Water sloshes over the side of the tub as he stands, your body already in his arms, your mouth already being consumed by his tongue and lips and teeth. Supernatural, strong, secure… he carries you in his arms to the bedroom to set you down on your wiggly, wobbly legs and dry you off.

The moment you’re dry, you happily crawl into bed, the softness of your sheets cushions you, another layer of balm to your pleasured and battered body. In the muffled distance, you hear him toweling off, the bed frame creaking and the buckling of the mattress follows… the telltale signs he approaches. That warm, sinewy frame of his covers you, slotted between your thighs, and you hiss at the insistent friction.

“Don’t you fret, my dear,” he chuckles, deep and low and wicked in his chest. “Despite the evidence to the contrary…” he grinds his still-hard erection over your mound gently, “you’ve done so well, I have nothing of that sort on my mind, just a little treat for my… treat.”

His voice purrs, his lips kissing and sucking lovingly across your collarbone and then over the pillowy tops of your breasts. He kisses around the angry, red bite marks from before… careful not to tease your nipples hard again. That warm tongue swipes up through the valley of your chest between them, only to have him kissing his way lower… and lower still. Hot breath warms your folds, the only prelude to his fingers and tongue licking into you with perfect precision. He paces his lapping, slow and attentive and thorough. Those same little growls he makes as drinks your blood reverberate through your slickened pussy. Fingers tease inside you, catching and stroking that bundle of nerves hidden in your channel until you hear your own sloppy arousal weeping from around his fingers.

Ravenous, his tongue laps it up. Insistent and strong, he sweeps up every drop of your slick and brings it to swirl around your clit. So tired, your poor brain and dulled senses barely hear the gasps from your own lips, barely controlling the rhythmic buck of your hips to match his fingers and mouth that worship you.

His voice rumbles such pretty words, such saccharine epithets into your folds. “Pretty consort…” followed by the wet suck of his lips, “…little treat…” Growls of his own hunger tickle as he curls that tongue back to your clit, “…mine forever, my love…”.

You feel his hair in your hands, not knowing how or when you fisted it as he eats you, feasting on you… A low sigh from his mouth sends you careening, that warmth and pleasure blooming from your core to swallow any last traces of lancing pain. Limp, breathless, boneless… you feel as if you’re floating in the downy bed beneath you.

You brace yourself for a moment for that fullness and friction of his cock, but it never comes. Only a tender kiss inside your thigh at the joint and the comforting weight of his body to lie beside you. His breathing is relaxed, warm and contented, as he nestles that sharp face and aquiline nose behind your ear and into the mess of your hair. He’s breathing you in… the fragrance of fresh-washed hair, the scent of your skin and fresh arousal. And despite that hardness at your lower back, he just pulls the heavy weight of your comforters over your naked bodies. Arms wrap softly but assuredly around you, one hand holding your arm, the other tucked snugly beneath both your still-drying heads. You feel the slowing thump of his pulse against your back as he pulls you even closer, the rush of his breath in your ear tingles your spine and relaxes you all at once.

Lulled to sleep by the warmth of his skin and the lullaby of his body…

Daylight caresses you, and instantly, as you stir, you know he’s already awake from his trance. The sunlight flooding your room, the curtains blown wide to let the dawn in, those are the dead giveaways. Those are the signals that he has already woken up and taken full advantage of his powers as Ascendant, his favorite—basking in the sun. Not that he would admit it.

He sits against the large window, letting his pale skin soak in the morning sun. Shirtless, just a pair of breeches on his legs, your sunwalking vampire, lets the warmth still thaw the centuries of cold and hurt.

Crimson eyes turn towards you, a knowing grin on his face the instant he hears your breathing change. “Ah, the only thing that sparkles more than the soft light of dawn…” he smirks, that same velvet tone of voice that made you first swoon, “the glint of your own scarlet eyes as you blink the lingering pleasure from your sleep.” You watch his muscles flex as he stretches in that shaft of sunlight from the window. Feline and a tad predacious, he slowly crosses towards you in the bed, a slightly sheepish grin on his full lips, even as his eyes clearly revealed his still lingering desires that had raged in the dark. “I’m… sorry if I was a bit more demanding than usual last night, darling, but you did so well…. My good, sweet consort.”

You give him that look that both provokes and placates, pursing your lips with a hint of a baleful glare from the corner of your eye. He sits beside you, and you keep your distance. Just enough.

“I always know when your negotiations either go horribly wrong or… intoxicating well…” you smirk, rubbing out the lingering soreness in your neck. It aches still, those harder to reach spots down the curve of your shoulder blades the worst from being suspended for so long…

And quickly, his hands replace yours. Those fingers, so strong and deft at picking locks and pleasuring you, knead into the aches and pains you just can’t reach. “So, do you wish to guess if negotiations with the dhampirs in Cormyr went to our advantage?” He purrs, hands still massaging your back as they wander lower. “Be warned, if you guess incorrectly, I'll treat you to more of the same rigorous attentions from last night…”

“And if I guess correctly?” You hum, his hands grasped teasingly around her swells of your ass now.

“Then I’ll treat you to more of the same tender care…”

You cock your brow and smirk, heart pounding for either way, it is always a treat with him.

[carooosa]

Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness

Part 1: Exposure (rewrite)

Word count: 1.5k Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ascended Astarion x AFAB Resist Durge/Reader Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, ear play, violence against an NPC AO3 link: Exposure

Summary: Astarion can exert his control/power as he maintains composure while fucking you, and while he may not be as strict with his council when doing so, the harshness behind his actions is still there. But when you torture him by making him moan in front of everyone who is beneath him? Not only will it show him weak, but it’ll show his weakness.

It’s another boring day as a consort while you sit on your lover’s bare lap, slowly rolling your hips into him. Ever since the ascension, Astarion has refused to let you out of his sight for too long, always wanting to have some part of him touching you. It upset you, at first, having to sit in on all of the dreadful conferences and dull discussions. But as always, Astarion made sure that it was worth your time.

He’s droning on about some inaccuracies in recent reports he’s received and his fingers dig into your hips as the proprietor of the counting-house stumbles out an excuse. You can’t help but giggle when you picture the proprietor trembling as he tries to talk his way out of this mess. You remember his name being quite the joke as well, something like Sparkleboard or Glimmerbrook.

“Rakath Glitterbeard,” Astarion barks at the dwarf before berating him for his inadequacies. He shoots you a mischievous glance, confirming that he too is bored with this meeting, so much so that his mind had wandered into your own.

Of course the poor sod’s name was something ridiculous. If he was going to have a name as awful as that, he should just change it to Goldcoin or something similar. At least then it’d have relevance to his job.

Astarion pinches your hips in an attempt to stifle any laughter that may come out, and you yelp in surprise. You look at your lover and notice the slightest crinkle in the corner of his eyes. The ramblings from Rakath stop, and Astarion’s head snaps towards him. “Have you run out with excuses already, Glitterbeard? Or have you simply come to your senses and decide to own up to your shortcomings?” Astarion says with a growl.

You turn your head as well, excited to see what’s about to unfold. The dwarf readjusts his collar before clearing his throat, and the idiot decides to speak up against your Lord.

With the arrogance of a little kid, he says, “No, Lord Astarion, I just noticed that you seem to be preoccupied and thought I would wait until you regain focus.”

Astarion scoffs and you feel him grab onto your ass with one hand as he stands up and kicks back the chair he was sitting on. With his other hand, he pushes off all the paperwork that lay strewn about the desk. He sets you on the edge of the table before pushing you down so that your back is against the hardwood. He stares directly at that insufferable banker as he begins to thrust into you – hard.

“What was that about losing focus?” Astarion says with a crazed look in his eyes.

Rakath’s face turns bright red as he tries to stammer out a response, but it’s no use, as Astarion has already made up his mind.

“Silence. Pick up those documents and put them back on the table – in their correct order. After that, you will redo all of this week’s reports, as well as the last 4 month’s as well.” Astarion is interrupted by a noise of disapproval, his frustration reaching its highest point today. “I said silence. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how that tongue of yours works, shall I cut it out and show you?”

Rakath drops to the floor and begins frantically gathering the papers, all the while Astarion continues to slam into you with reckless abandon as he addresses the rest of the meeting attendees. 

“Do I need to remind everyone that you’re in the presence of the Vampire Ascendant? I am more powerful than you could possibly comprehend, yet you wager your lowly lives just to make some ridiculous point. I could replace you with the snap of my fingers and no one would even care. I keep you around because I couldn’t be damned to get rid of you – however, give me enough of a reason and I’ll put the dungeon to use.”

You weren’t sure exactly how or when it started, but whenever Astarion would get annoyed or pissed off during a meeting he would yank you closer and begin to fuck you, right there, in front of everyone. Somehow he was able to maintain composure as he catered to your needy whines, asserting his dominance over the room while he dominated you. He always took care of you, and one day, you got the brilliant idea to care for him in return.

You’re once again sat on your lover’s lap with his cock buried deep inside you. His nose is deep in a document, a contract with an architect from Neverwinter, and his shoulders are tensed. You delicately reach your hands behind his shoulders to start massaging the knots. He doesn’t acknowledge you save for a quick twitch in his ears, so you push harder, hoping to alleviate some of the stress the Vampire Lord must feel. Moving up to his neck, you meticulously knead every knot you find, humming a soft melody as each point of tension slowly comes undone. When you finish giving him a massage, one of your hands slightly brushes against his ear, causing a shutter to ripple through Astarion.

You quickly look at his face and notice his lips part, a silent moan leaving them. Interesting, you think to yourself, and you slowly reach out to stroke his ear.

You watch as Astarion gasps, eyes fluttering closed in contentment, the contract falling from his hands. He desperately tries to regain control by focusing on his breath. You caress the helix of his ear and his breathing hitches before a pleased sigh escapes his mouth and he leans into your touch. His hands move to your back to stabilize you as he begins to roll his hips, ever so slightly fucking you.

He looks so beautiful like this, you think to yourself. Astarion’s eyes are hooded when he opens them again, and if your heart was still beating, you’re positive it would’ve skipped a beat.

You can tell from his posture that he’s about to move your hand away, and the mind-link connection you share confirms that. The Vampire Ascendant has an image to upkeep, and he can’t show any vulnerability outside of the bed chambers. He starts to shift in his seat when suddenly, you take his ear lobe in your mouth. He mindlessly bucks his hips forward and grasps the armrests of his chair, splintering the wood. You nibble on the lobe, pressing and flicking your tongue against the soft skin.

He can vaguely see in his peripherals the guests from Neverwinter glance at each other and shift in their seats. One of them clears their throat and Astarion tries again to regain his poise but all he can think about is your lips on his ear. You roll your hips and gingerly reach out to his other ear, pinching and rubbing the tip. A quiet moan starts in the back of Astarion’s throat as you coo at him, telling him that he’s such a good lord, so strong, incredibly smart, your love. All the meeting attendants can do is watch as the Vampire Ascendant comes undone beneath your touch.

Astarion is panting as you whisper sweet nothings in between giving attention to his ears. You bite down on the flesh in your mouth – harsh enough to draw blood – and moan from the sweet ichor that flows into your body. The nobility that would usually cower at the mention of the vampire lord’s name now sit watching, unable to do anything in fear of retaliation. One of the younger nobles, the son of the architect, begins to slowly stroke his fingers against his strained trousers.

Within seconds, Astarion barks an order.

“Stop.”

You pause, concerned that you may have gone too far. Before you can ask if you did something wrong, you’re sat alone on the chair while Astarion is on his feet and holding the young man by his throat. He raises the boy above his head and dangles him above the table, his claws piercing into his flesh. The architect starts to get out of his seat but a nearby guest stops him.

“You fucking degenerate. How dare you please yourself while looking at my consort,” Astarion bellows.

The boy is unable to respond as blood fills his throat, causing him to suffocate. Astarion slowly closes his grip around his neck, watching as the architect’s son struggles to pull his nails out. The boy stops thrashing, the life drained from his eyes as his body goes limp.

Astarion continues to hold the corpse in the air as he addresses his room. “Leave. Now. And if so much as a word of today’s events is whispered outside of this room,” he pauses, throwing the body onto the table where the group congregates, “I will personally hunt each and every one of you.”

A few days later, a rumor silently spreads across Baldur’s Gate. Astarion, the unforgiving and merciless Vampire Ascendant, has a weakness. While many laugh and make jokes about how the powerful tyrant gets turned on with the touch of his ears, a resistance group takes note of his true weakness, and their key to his demise: you.

Part 2 Here

[lynnlovesthestars]

Mess.

Pairing: Astarion x oc. genderfluid tav, he/him pronouns.

Genre and warnings: Smut, fluff, trauma talk, body worship.

words: 2k? more? idk

AN: my therapist told me to post everything i finished so here i am

Astarion tugged Lynn with him, despite hating the disaster that his tent was, he promised he'd open up to him, and that included his personal mess. "I apologize for.. what this is" Astarion blushed ever so slightly. "I understand if you don't-" Lynn stopped him, uncaring for the blood jars forgotten in the corner or the ragged baby blanket he kept on top of his bedroll.

"Astarion, I don't care" Lynn smiled tenderly. "My tent isn't any better" He admitted. He was good at hiding what he didn't want anyone to see, and that included his mess of mementos and the fewest belongings he had. "I don't care as long as I can hold you" Lynn gently squeezed Astarion's hand, tugging him towards the bedroll. It was not particularly big, it barely fit the two as they laid close, looking at each other.

They started slowly, with their foreheads pressed together and their hands intertwined. "May I?" Astarion shyly raised Lynn's hand to his lips, while he earn a nod from the changeling, a soft smile curled on his lips as Astarion kissed each knuckle delicately, as if Lynn was made of porcelain.

Lynn couldn't hold back the blush, as Astarion smiled back at him. "May I?" Lynn asked softly, just inches away from his lips. At Astarion's agreement, Lynn leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Astarion’s temple. Astarion huffed delicately, taken aback. He didn’t expect Lynn to go for his forehead, he was ready to taste his lips, he missed those lips.

It was such a pure moment for the two, their hearts hammering in their chest as they delicately caressed the other, slowly daring to push each other's boundaries and come closer.

They had promised to heal together, to overcome their nightmares, and slowly, they were making it one caress at a time.

“Let me be your mirror again” Lynn gently wrapped his arms around Astarion’s frame, taking him in his embrace, as he noticed the impatience in Astarion’s movements. They ached so much for each other that taking it slow was godsdamned hard.

“Are you going to compliment my ears again?” He rolled his eyes playfully. As much as he wanted to admit the contrary, he had appreciated the way Lynn had complimented those small details, no one ever did, and it felt.. nice.

“I might” He laughed softly. “They look very bitable if you ask me” He leans closer, his breath caressing the tip of his ear, making Astarion shiver under the hot gust.

“Please..” Astarion almost moaned as he curled against Lynn’s chest, as if he tried to hide.

“Please what? Little love” Lynn cooed before kissing his temple.

“Don’t bite my ear, they are sensitive” Astarion quipped softly, glad his cheeks were out of sight, that strangled moan had been enough to reveal.

“I shall not bite them, I promise” The changeling couldn’t help but cradle the man closer, making sure they were both tucked snugly in the bedroll.

“But they are pretty, I don’t know how to explain it” He mumbled as one of his hands gently lifted his chin. “Your eyes though” He hesitated looking for the proper words. There was something about them that made it hard to describe, they were like pools of emotions and Lynn feared Astarion didn’t know how much they reflected.

“What, are they ugly?” Astarion raised an eyebrow both confused and scared Lynn might not like the crimson shade that tinted his iris. He had always been confident, mindless of other’s opinions, yet when it came to Lynn it was different.

“No, absolutely not” He murmured. “They are mesmerizing, and they reveal much more than what you think”

“You think so?”

“Mhmh” Lynn nodded as he caressed his cheek and kissed his forehead again, stealing a little hum of satisfaction from Astarion that was slowly melting in the grasp again. “Sometimes, I could tell when your confidence would falter” He admitted. “Your eyes would tell me if I was talking to you, or to you”

“So obvious uh?” He sighed, not entirely defeated. With Lynn he felt as if those moments where his persona would slip, were not an error, it was natural- between the fear and the growing feelings in his stomach, to the point that now his mask his almost always tucked away when he’s alone with the changeling. He trusted him enough to be his true self, he realized.

“I don’t know, it might be that I stared at them so hard too” He said sarcastically to ease down the mood again. “But to me, they are truly a mirror to your soul” Silence dropped over the two as Lynn gently caressed his cheek, to move to his lips, tracing his lower lip. “Your lips are irresistible” He had to fight the urge to lean in and steal another kiss.

“And your cheeks” He sighed as he admired the way they started taking the almost lovely shade of pink again. “i love when you blush, they take the smallest color and you look so alive”

“Are you implying I look dead the rest of the time?” He joked, this time not hiding the blush but rather flaunt the reddish shade of his cheek.

“No” Lynn couldn't suppress his laugh. “you know what I mean.. cause you feel it too” He closed his eyes, gently brushing the tip of their noses together, followed by Astarion that closed his eyes as well.

“Your neck..” He sighed as he gently cradled Astarion's head, tilting it to the side and exposing his supple neck as if he was the one about to bite. “I wish I could kiss it all day” He left an open mouthed kiss on the exposed skin, and another where his shoulder met his neck. “Your chest doesn’t rise, but it isn’t any less calming” He whispered under his breath, aching to lower himself and kiss his sternum, yet resisting for another moment.

“Your arms” He gently traced the bicep barely accentuated by their position. “You are not that strong, but you hold me so tight sometimes I melt.” He admitted as he brought one of his hands to his mouth. “And your hands” He groaned satisfied just at the look. “They fit so nicely in mine” He kissed the back.

“So cliche” Astarion blushed and giggled as one cute fang was exposed from his lips.

“I might be but they grasp so nicely at my hips, and they cup perfectly my cheek, I might just say they were made for me” He cooed as he kissed each fingertip softly.

“You are going to make me cringe at this rate” Astarion teased with the gentlest smile as he looked away for a moment.

“And yet you are blushing and smiling, If I didn’t know any better..” Lynn trailed off before being stopped by Astarion. “Don’t say it”

“Okay little love, I won’t” Lynn laughed. “But let me just say, right now you are sitting perfectly in my arms, and maybe I don’t want you to ever leave my grasp”

“Lucky for you I don’t want to move from here” Astarion leaned forward to kiss the tip of Lynn’s nose.

They laid like that for what felt eternity, as they grazed and kissed each other skin with fleeting and gentle lips, murmuring sweet nothings as they enjoyed the calm of the night. Lynn didn’t care whether in the morning he was going to regret not resting, but being so close to Astarion, being touched so softly was worth every sleepless second spent kissing. It was almost intoxicating, the grasps and gasps had him high on the feeling.

It was moments later that Lynn shivered. Astarion's finger grazed over his hip instantly having his hands tightened it's grip on Astarion's. "Everything okay, darling?" He asked tenderly as he moved his hand to Lynn's cheek, gently tracing the swell of his cheek.

Lynn nodded as a single tear rand down the peachy skin. "Hips are.. one of my trigger areas, I haven't been touched so softly there ever” He had told Astarion about this past, the four years of confinement and what they made of him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to share the details, where touch would feel like scorching pain and when love would turn to agony.

Astarion moved closer, his body flush against Lynn's, his body heat enveloping Astarion tenderly. The elf's hand reached for Lynn's cheek again, catching the rolling tear with his thumb. "I understand" Astarion pressed his forehead against Lynn's, eyes closed, just their breath mixing in the middle as they held each other. He did understand cause for him it was his scars, he had been terrified of having them touched, sometimes just the thought would make him spiral. He had understood how this worked. “Do you want me to stop” He asked. “We can stop at any moment”

“No, don’t” Lynn urged. “I want you closer, I need you closer” He admitted, this time he was the one blushing

Astarion gently grasped at Lynn's hips again, as he pulled him in a slow and tender kiss, gasping for air whenever they had the chance. Their hands could barely keep in one spot as Astarion's kiss would be dragged back in from Lynn's yearning ones. Astarion gently pushed Lynn down on his back, straddling and towering over the other as he navigated his hands under the changeling's shirt, while his erection was impossible to hide.

Astarion wanted to try, he had missed the way Lynn had wrapped around him, the way Lynn would arch his back, or the way his mouth repeated his name like a plea. He has missed how Lynn- big and buff as he was- would beg and melt under Astarion.

Lynn sighed softly as he allowed Astarion to guide him, wrapping his legs around his hips. "Lynn..' Astarion murmured as they were both breathless and aching.

Gently cupping his cheek and tracing his jaw with his lips.. "divine" He rasped before leaving an open mouthed kiss on his neck .

"I-" Lynn gasped, warmth spreading in his stomach and a yearning feeling pooling in his chest. He needed Astarion closer, his hands on his body, his flesh burning with his heat. Astarion knew from the way Lynn desperately clung to him, pleaded for his lips and how he gasped whenever Astarion would remove another layer of Lynn's clothes. "Please.." Lynn said hoarsely, trembling under him, their naked skin fiery as they kissed.

“Are you sure?” Astarion asked as he kissed his forehead tenderly. “We don't have to do anything if you don't want to” Astarion reassured him. It was ironic how he was the one asking, though appreciated.

“Do you want to do this?” Lynn asked back, tangling his hand with Astarion's.

“My love, can you feel this?” Astarion purred as his hips pressed against Lynn’s tight ring, his hard cock stealing a lewd moan from Lynn's lips. “It says it all” He leaned forward, tracing Lynn's neck with kisses, bites and licks, worshipping his flesh agonizingly slow as Lynn's arms wrapped around Astarion.

The elf reached for the grease bottle that was in his pack, and poured abundantly the liquid on his palm.

“I want you to tell me if I need to stop” Astarion whispered as he quickly stroked himself, coating his length in the substance while he looked for Lynn's eyes.

“I promise” Lynn offered him a small, shy smile as Astarion's clean hand linked with Lynn's, both for support and as a reminder that they could hold on to each other. They had practiced a lot, small things to keep each other in the loop, like holding hands, looking for each other's eyes, like pressing their foreheads together to stay closer.

Astarion lowered again, catching his lips tenderly as he lifted Lynn's legs to help him angle, while the changeling's cheeks flushed deeply.

"I love you" Lynn murmured against Astarion's lips as he closed his eyes while Astarion pressed his forehead against Lynn’s. He slowly pushed himself past his rim with a gasp as Lynn fisted the blanket both in pain and ecstasy. “I love you” Astarion whimpered as all his senses awoke.

Lynn was tigh, clenching around him like madness as his cock was already leaking desperately on his stomach.

"So good for me" Astarion cooed instantly having Lynn blushing and moaning under him. "And so breathtaking" He rasped before he leaned to catch his lips in a kiss again and again. Astarion could feel his body cursing with goosebumps, as he took a moment to focus, squeezing Lynn's hand softly. Lynn shied under Astarion's eyes, his cheeks flushing even more and more as Astarion started moving.

Astarion swore he saw the cosmos as he sunk in the warmth, as Lynn became one with him. The changeling's gasps reminded him he was free, that he was not with one of his victims, but rather with him that had done so much for him.

He had fallen for Lynn, and so much had changed. Firstly he had admitted his- awfully played- plan, and Lynn had forgiven him. Lynn had held his hand while walking down the halls of Cazador's palace and bathed him after they were back at the elfsong tavern and Astarion could barely function. Lynn that held him as he wept endlessly after a nightmare. Lynn had defended him from Araj, Lynn had kissed his scars.

He poured it all with his strokes, making sure they held in them the feelings that he held in his heart. And Lynn wasn't doing any less. Lynn, the man he loved so purely and deeply, was taking him and and loving him with every inch of him. They were not just fucking, they were devoting each other despite their struggles.

“Astarion, you f-feel so good” He cried out as Astarion held him in position, stretching him deliciously.

Lynn was not vocal, his whimpers though echoed in Astarion's brain endlessly as he swallowed him inch by inch.

"My Lynn" Astarion moaned as he reached forward and caressed his cheek. "My lovely lovely Lynn" He panted desperately as he made Lynn melt under his thrusts.

Lynn threw his head back as he arched under Astarion's graze, his body cursing with something new, something sweet he couldn't help but chase as Astarion lost himself in him.

"Look at me" Astarion whispered breathlessly as the slow burning passion was eating them alive. Curses, moans, the sweet sweet sound of their hips meeting and their love overtaking them.

Lynn was his and he was Lynn's, devoting their hands, lips, eyes to worshipping the other. They could read it on each other's face, on the way their eyes glistened, or their lips parted and met, or the way their muscles tensed and everything stopped for a moment. It was just them, framed in time: Astarion cradling Lynn to his chest as he stretched him and loved him, while Lynn was gasping, so full, so soft, whispering Astarion's name like a plea. They were one as they twitched, begged, cried for the other, gushed and slowly, tenderly kissed. They didn't realized tears were streaming down their faces until they came back to their senses, though still breathless, their orgasms spilled on Lynn's chest and leaking from his tight hole. Yet all they cared about was drying those tears with the palms of their hands.

“My love, you alright?” Astarion asked worried , while uncaring for his own tears as he reached for Lynn’s cheek.

“Never been better, you?” He replied weakly as he sat up just enough to tug Astarion in his lap and dry his tears softly.

“Darling I'm home” He whispered as he leaned against Lynn's naked chest.

They laid in each other's embrace, spent, still whispering the other's name as they eased down and tangled back together. The tears that were falling held in years of pain, of wounds and blood, they were the tears of two men that had lost hope, yet found respite and home in the other's care. They were the tears of relief, of love, of belonging as Astarion was resting on Lynn's chest trembling and panting.

"I love you"s under their breath were whispered as they kissed away the tears, as they cleaned each other carefully, as they held on to each other, with just a blanket draped on their bodies, as they kissed, as they caressed. "I love you"'s sworn under the protection of the moon, only for the other to hear.

Lynn pulled Astarion against his chest again once they were tucked in the bedroll, along with the thicker blanket which ended up shielding them from the cold. Lynn kissed Astarion's temple as his arms held him close and he gently ran his fingers down his skin. Astarion sighed peacefully as he curled into the embrace, making himself smaller as if hiding

“Are you okay, little love?” Lynn kissed his cheek.

“I wish we could stay like this forever” Astarion sighed, gently resting his palm on Lynn's heart. “Not a worry in sight”

“I promise you” Lynn placed one hand atop Astarion's hand on his chest. “I'll make sure that this will be our future” He murmured.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+

Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb

Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.

CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.” And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 5: Chapter 7: AO3

Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long. 

  He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?

 Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat. 

  He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever. 

  Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled. 

 You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out. 

  It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn. 

 That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <

  The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated. 

 You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you. 

  You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.

  Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers. 

 It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul. 

  And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.

 Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.

  It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you. 

   He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person. 

  He feels border line delirious and he’s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt. 

   You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again. 

  The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near. 

  The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for. 

  He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.

 At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon. 

  He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks. 

  Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business. 

 For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.

  The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.

What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?

 Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought. 

  Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him. 

 Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.

 What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?

 He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt. 

 He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.

 Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.

 His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay. 

  Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.

 Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted. 

   He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen. 

  His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet. 

  Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.

 “Hey! You can’t just cu-“

 Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.

 “You were saying?”

 “Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”

 A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.

“That’s not what I-“

 “NEXT!”

  Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.” 

 He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality. 

  It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here. 

 “Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?” 

  If you were here? You would have busted up laughing. 

“Young man, my ass!” 

  He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye. 

“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.” 

 “Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”

 “I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

  The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.

 Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.

  The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.

 “Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.” 

 Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is. 

 No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart. 

 “Which brother?”

  The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.

 You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death. 

 “His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”

 Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice. 

 Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself. 

  Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.

  The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body. 

 “Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!” 

  A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave. 

  His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.

 Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!” 

 Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books. 

  He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter. 

  Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes. 

  Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster. 

  It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time. 

 He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!

  The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans. 

 The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.

 There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.

 What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half. 

 Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!

 The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.

 Wonderful, just wonderful. 

  Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get. 

  A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him. 

Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster. 

  As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him. 

 Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.  

  A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly. 

  Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics. 

  You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him. 

 “Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?”

  “Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”

 “Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”

  Of course it’s a fucking Lich. 

 “For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.” 

“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.

 Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it. 

 “That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!” 

 It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.

  Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath. 

 You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.

  The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts. 

  Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-

 “NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!” 

   You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you. 

 Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.

 He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.

“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!” 

   Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing. 

  When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.

“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.” 

  And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal. 

  Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process. 

 The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers. 

 “ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”

   He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on. 

   A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.

  He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.

  The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.

 Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.

  The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.

  The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.

  He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t. 

  Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her. 

  He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again. 

  The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea. 

  Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building. 

  The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them. 

 It must have been a horrible 56 hours. 

 Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.

“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”

 The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”

 That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.

 “It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.” 

             *****************************

   It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard. 

  You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days. 

  It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering. 

“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?” 

 You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.

 “He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.

“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”

  Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.

 He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery. 

 But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.

  Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.

 However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.

 Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.

  Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.

 You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while. 

 Anything to make you feel safe again. 

 “I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.

“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“ 

  This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough. 

 Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.

 A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes. 

 “I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.” 

 “What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

 Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.

“It’s not imp-“

“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!” 

 Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.” 

  “Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.” 

  You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable. 

 “I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”

  He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off.  Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards. 

  Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.

“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.

  Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?

 “What?”

  You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.

  Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.” 

 “Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!” 

 Oh thank Gods.

  Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc. 

  You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”

 Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns. 

 You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite. 

“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”

 “Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”

 You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.

“What is it, my Sweet?”

  He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.

“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”

  Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.

 Pull yourself together.

 “I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”

 “Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”

 “But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.” 

  Gods when did he become such a romantic? 

  You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face. 

“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”

“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”

“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”

“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”

  You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations. 

“Fair.” 

   Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors. 

  Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right. 

  This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you. 

  It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined. 

  You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face. 

 Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.

  Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream. 

  Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.

   He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door. 

 He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened. 

(Smut begins)

 He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.

  Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.

 He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!

  The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely. 

  Wild, passionate- unrehearsed. 

  Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop. 

 “You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”

  Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago. 

   He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.  

  His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak. 

  In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.

  Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately. 

  He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst. 

 Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours. 

(Smut ends)

  He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out. 

 Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.

 His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.

 Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for. 

  He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you. 

  Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.

  After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you. 

  One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.

***********************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

[saffron-rays]

Nightmare

HC: even though he doesn’t require sleep, if tav is human, Astarion picks up the habit as a means to spend as much time with them as possible… since humans have one of the shortest life spans of all the races in Faerûn.

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement

Summary: You managed to convince Astarion not to go through with the rite of profane ascension. He remains a vampire spawn, and you now offer your blood from time to time to help with his sanguine hunger until a solution is found.

Even though you had both decided to stay as friends back in Moonrise Towers, lines begin to blur once more as other cravings come to the surface… and things with Astarion are seldom uncomplicated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Rating: Explicit/18+

Setting: Canon compliant. Post-endgame.

Warnings (will be added as the series progresses): Blood drinking. Pining. Biting. Sexual tension. Mentions of past abuse. Explicit smut.

Chapter 1 - Bloodlust

Chapter 2 - In Between

Chapter 3 - Inconvenience

Chapter 4 - Solution

Chapter 5 - Confrontation

Chapter 6 - Broken

Chapter 7 - Tension

Chapter 8 - Revelations

Chapter 9 - The Arrangement

Chapter 10 - A New Way

Chapter 11 - First Light

Chapter 12 - In the Beginning

Chapter 13 - Tempest

Chapter 14 - Trance

Chapter 15 - Acquaintances

Masterlist . AO3 (cross-posted there)

[dancingbirdie]

Back with another bout of plotless smut. Read at your own discretion and take note of the tags. <333

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

We Have All Night

Rating: MATURE

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader x Halsin

Word Count: 800

Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (fem!Reader receiving), praise kink, hand kink, threesome technically?, mentions of alcohol, pure plotless smut

Summary: You'd been wondering for some time what it would be like to have Halsin and Astarion share you.

*****

You could have easily blamed the events that ensued on the bottles of Blingdenstone Blush you all had passed around camp that evening. But if you were honest with yourself, the position you found yourself in was one you had been fantasizing about for some time. 

“That’s it, darling,” Astarion coaxed as his fingers slipped gently through your hair, teasing and massaging your scalp. Your head was pillowed in his lap, pupils blown wide with lust as you peered up at him. He smiled down at you, a wicked, hedonistic sort of grin.

“You so desperately want to hold still for him, don’t you?”

You whined your assent, trying your best to keep your hips from bucking – an impossible task considering the relentless way Halsin’s tongue was licking and circling that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs. 

“Such a good girl. You’re doing so well” Astarion cooed, while Halsin groaned in agreement. The vibrations it created against your skin felt like electricity surging through your limbs. 

Your mind was a disjointed haze of lust and alcohol. Totally uninhibited, you keened loudly as the druid suddenly gripped the softness of your thighs and plunged his tongue inside you.

“Shh, shh, shh” Astarion hushed, moving a hand to cover your mouth. “We don’t want the rest of the camp to hear our fun, do we?”

You groaned and shook your head slightly. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to join in?” you rasped, your lips moving against his slender fingers.

He gave a mischievous little chuckle. “I’m certain. I’m having a wonderful time just watching,” Astarion returned. 

“The night is still young,” Halsin persuaded, pausing his feasting on you to meet Astarion’s eyes. The absence of his mouth left you wanting, aching for contact once more. “If you change your mind, there’s plenty of fun to be had.” 

“A tempting offer, indeed,” Astarion smirked. “Let’s see where the evening takes us, shall we?”

You moaned against his hand as Halsin dipped his head to begin circling your clit with his tongue once more. You fisted his gorgeous auburn locks in your hands, eliciting a groan from his mouth that felt absolutely delicious against your hypersensitive skin. 

“Our sweet pup has an oh-so-difficult time keeping quiet, doesn’t she?” Astarion crooned, tracing his fingers against the seam of your lips. “You’re trying so hard, darling, I know you are.”

His silken, sinful voice felt almost as euphoric as the deplorable things Halsin was doing between your legs. In a bout of unbridled lust, you opened your mouth to capture Astarion’s index and middle fingers in your mouth. 

You sucked down on them, circled them with your tongue, as you imagined having his hard length sheathed down your throat. Your bawdy move drew a sharp breath from the vampire, followed by a quiet groan. 

You paused your ministrations, lifting a hand to pull his fingers from your mouth before asking, “Is this okay? Is it too much?” 

Astarion chuckled darkly, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. 

“You wicked thing,” he purred. “Yes, it’s okay. And it has the added benefit of keeping you quiet.”

You were beyond laughs and jokes. Hearing his consent, you drew his fingers back down to your mouth and resumed your sucking. You moaned your approval as Astarion pistoned his fingers deeper into your mouth at the same time Halsin inserted two fingers inside you. 

You knew you wouldn’t last long. Not with the way the druid was fucking you with his fingers at the same time his tongue was circling your clit. Not with the way Astarion was trailing one hand delicately across your exposed skin while you worshiped the fingers of his other hand with your tongue and lips. 

Every nerve within you was alight and thrumming with barely-restrained energy. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your body preparing for the sweetest freefall that would soon ensue. Your heels dug into Halsin’s muscled back as you tensed, one hand still clenching his hair while the other held desperately onto Astarion’s thigh. 

“Yes, darling, yes,” Astarion kept coaxing as your body drew more and more taut. A bowstring desperate to be released. 

“Let yourself come, you know you want to,” he added in a soft whisper. 

It was too much. 

Those words, and a final flick of Halsin’s tongue, had you shattering into a thousand pieces. Your cries were barely restrained by the fingers still occupying your mouth. You were lost in pleasure, awash in the tingling aftermath of your release. 

Chest heaving, mind reeling, you could barely find words. 

“That… that was…” you wheezed, before letting loose a giggle. “Everything I’d imagined it would be.”

“You’d thought about this before?” Halsin grinned, wiping his mouth clean against his forearm before leaning down to plant a reverent kiss against your lips. You could taste yourself on him. It gave you more satisfaction than perhaps it should have. 

“My, my. What other sort of depraved carnal pleasures are bouncing around in that head of yours, I wonder?” Astarion added, helping you sit up so that you were lounging between the two of them. 

You shared a conspiratorial grin with both elves. “We have all night, if you’d like me to show you.”

[angelltheninth]

Astarion Getting Aroused by Your Blood

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, kissing, blood sucking, neck bites, creampie, rough sex, semi-public sex, feral!Astarion

A/N: Not immune to sexy blood suckers.

It was happening before your relationship was official too but he was more subtle about it at that point

The last thing he wanted to do was to make you think he was a pervert

Well he was but even he knows that there is a time and place

It would make him seem a little odd, you bleeding and him with a boner, so he would always run off into the forest to take care of himself

Your blood almost made him lose his mind with lust, just the sight of a single drop made his mouth water and his cock harden

The first taste of your blood, the first bite that you allowed him made him cream his pants, an incident you won't ever let him forget

His pupils dilate when you cut your thumb and move it in and out of his mouth, rubbing the blood all over his tongue, making his hips hump air, his cock begging to feel something around it

Multiple times in the day he will ask to kiss you, and then he will bite you as well, joking how he's oh so tired from the fight, he needs just a little boost

That little boost will give him more then just energy for the day

You haven't been caught fucking in a shady alleyway yet but the amount of times he will get horny from the taste of your blood is enough to drain you, his fangs aren't even needed

When he's thrusting in and out of your pussy and he sees you offering your neck to him he takes the opportunity, coming as soon as your sweet, metallic taste hits his tongue

His mouth may be full of your blood by your pussy is full of his cum

[littlejuicebox]

You'll stay still, won't you, little love?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex

Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀

-----

You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.

When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction. 

Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give. 

For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.

“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.

“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.” 

He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this. 

“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.

You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.

“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers. 

“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight. 

“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.

“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent. 

“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.

“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.

Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”

You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.” 

“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”

You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.

“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”

Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”

“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.

“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.

He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.

His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself. 

In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.

“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.

“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.

Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.

You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth. 

You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.

“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.

You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.

His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.

“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.

You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.” 

And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.

Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.

Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.

“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.

“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.

As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.

He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.

Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.

“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.

“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”

“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.” 

He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.

[brain-rot-central]

Possession

A/N: This is pure filth. I'm so sorry.

Word count: 2.8k

Rating: Explicit. Please read the warnings!

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x FemaleHuman!Tav (the reader is Tav)

Warnings: 18+, fingering, cum play, cunnilingus, PiV sex, religion kink, praise kink, breeding kink, corruption kink, possessiveness, slight bdsm?, slight DD/lg (if you squint enough), cock drunk, pussy drunk

Summary: Astarion hasn't had anything in so long, not even himself.

Until you.

Astarion sighs above you with a great heave of his chest, his head dropping low enough to rest his forehead against yours.

You unhook your legs from around the small of his back as aftershocks of your orgasm rock through you. Your legs come to rest on either side of your vampiric lover, his cock still buried within the warmth of your sex. With every rhythmic contraction of your walls around his length, you feel it twitch from within. The head of his cock is nestled at the base of your cervix, and you let out a pleasured mewl knowing he's dribbling the last of his spend directly into your ripened womb with each pulse of his shaft.

Gently, Astarion pulls his length free from your warm nest. You whimper at the sudden loss of feeling full, and his seed begins to seep from entrance. It trickles down your folds and pools under you, causing you to shiver as the night air cools it quickly against your heated skin.

“Tch, such a waste,” Astarion says with a click of his tongue. He's looking down at the apex of your thighs to survey his handiwork, disappointed seeing all of his effort lay in vain.

The blush on your cheeks was finally subsiding when a new wave of warmth rushes to your face again as his eyes study your cunt. Astarion runs a finger up your swollen sex, catching some of his spend and bringing it back up to your entrance. He pushes his finger into your thoroughly stretched hole, languidly pumping the digit in and out.

“We simply cannot have that,” Astarion comments. He removes his digit from your cunt and begins to slither down your torso, littering your sternum in chaste kisses as he goes. “In fact,” he states with a silken tone, “one cannot accept such poor conditions.”

Your nipples harden to stiff peaks as his tongue dips into the valley of your navel. Your legs bend at the knees almost instinctively as Astarion’s lips kiss the curls atop your mound. 

Every memory cell in your body responds to Astarion autonomically, as if his touch has been seared into each of your nerve endings. It is intoxicating, and you can never get enough.

This man has dragged you into the depths of the Hells themselves. You've fallen out of favor with the Morninglord and have been shunned by your entire clergy as a consequence of succumbing to Astarion's advances.

It started as a simple favor; a quaint exchange. His continued vigor and vitality, all for the small price of occasional sips of your blood. You were hesitant at first, but you inevitably agreed.

You had no idea it would lead to you being on all fours in the cellar of an abandoned ruin, Astarion mercilessly pounding into you from behind as he grips your hair for leverage. You forfeited your honor to him, and your maidenhood, all too enthusiastically.

And you would do it all over again, for as long as he would allow it.

“We certainly need to rectify this unfortunate predicament,” he says. He kisses the soft skin of your inner left thigh, and you squirm at the stark temperature contrast of his cool lips against your heated skin.

A whimper escapes you as you feel the tip of his nose rub against your clit. Astarion licks a wet stripe up your center and you spread your legs wider, grinding your pelvis down onto the wet muscle.

His hands come up to wrap around your thighs as he suckles on your swollen nub, languidly stroking it with his tongue. You grip the sheets of the bed below you and pull as a strangled moan rips from your throat.

“A-Astarion,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper, “g-gods, please, it's so d-dirty…” Your voice trails off into a moan as he drags his tongue up your taint, collecting the remnants of his spend in a small well.

“F-fuck-!” you yell as his tongue pushes past your entrance, fucking himself back into your hole. Astarion hums into your cunt as he drives his tongue deeper into you, moving his head in just the right way for the tip of his nose to rub deliciously against your clit.

“The Gods are dead, my darling. There is only us,” he speaks into you. The vibration of his voice travels up into your pelvis and spreads across your abdomen, causing an obscene contraction of your walls around his tongue.

Your hands fly up onto his head and grip fistfuls of silver locks, bracing your feet on the bed as you grind yourself over his face. You cast your eyes down between your thighs to inspect the scene below, your breath coming in short gasps.

Smoldering red eyes meet yours, Astarion's eyelashes fluttering as he continues to hum into your sex. He meets your gaze once again and your heart begins to beat wildly inside of your chest.

This man was beautiful, so godsdamned beautiful.

And he was yours.

All yours.

Suddenly, he pulls himself away from your center and you whine in protest. You exchange glances and you see the corner of his mouth pulling upward into a crooked smile. Astarion pulls himself up and over your body again, bracing himself on his elbows on either side of your torso.

You moan softly as you feel his reawakened lust now resting against you, thick and heavy between your folds. The thought of using the small of his back as leverage to glide yourself against the weighted appendage crosses your mind, and you throw your head back with an exasperated sigh.

His hips twitch in response to your wanton display of pleasure and he groans, driving his hardened length through the slick heat of your swollen sex. He glides himself back and forth, smearing your arousal with slow rolls of his hips. 

Once again, body almost possessed, your legs come up to wrap themselves around the small of his back, and you wrap your arms around his neck. The pre-cum leaking from his tip provides additional lubrication, and you mewl as the head of his cock teases your clit with each canting of his hips. He continues this torturous routine as he drops his face mere millimeters away from yours.

“I want you to taste us, my love,” Astarion coos as he pulls at your bottom lip with blunted teeth. “I want you to savor how well we complement one another.” 

He skirts his tongue across your lips, seeking entrance. You open your mouth to accept him, and you immediately groan in pleasure at the taste spreading over your tongue.

Bittersweet yet mellow, with a distinct note that hits the back of your throat. Your whole body convulses, your back arching off the bed, chest pushing into his. It was debauched and utterly sinful; it was absolutely divine.

“Do you taste it, my darling?” Astarion asks as he pulls his mouth away from yours. His head dips to the nape of your neck and you shiver as he kisses your tender skin. “Can you taste how well we complete one another?” 

Your hands travel up the back of his head and you tilt your neck off to the side, allowing Astarion better access to the column of your neck. His tongue worries the two small scars beginning to develop over your jugular vein, his favorite place to feed on you, and you grip fistfuls of his hair.

“Do you know what else I taste, pet?” His mouth closes over the ghosts of your scars and your body convulses, wanton moans spilling from your lips as he nibbles the soft flesh.

“W-hat, else?” you breathe out, words separated by huffs.

“Your arousal.” He licks a stripe up the side of your neck, mouth close now to your ear. “Your excitement.” He nips at your earlobe, pulling gently. His voice drops into a low growl and he speaks into your ear, “Your fertility.”

Your whole body arches off the bed, your breasts pushing into his chest, and you writhe under him. A bolt of lighting shoots across your pelvis as the walls of your cunt clench around the memory of your first time. 

You think back to your coupling in the cellar, you on all fours as he slams into you repeatedly from behind. There was no other sound in that cellar aside from the wet squelching of your sex as he drove his length into you repeatedly.

You recall how thoroughly full you felt, how thoroughly mated. Your body willfully opening to him, beckoning him to claim you further. His hands on your hips held you steady as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You'd never cum harder in your life, your walls milking every last drop of his release.

Your clergy be damned; you knew there and then that you wanted Astarion on a carnal level. You want your womb to be desecrated by the sowing of his undead children.

“You want this, don't you?” he moans into your ear, accentuating his words with a drawn out thrust between your legs. Astarion braces his weight on one arm, snaking one hand up and over the delicate column of your throat.

You moan and lift your chin up just as his fingers wrap around your throat. “Tell me how much you want this, little love,” he says to you.

“Do you still want me?” is the silent question wrapped within his words.

Your hands release their hold on his hair and come to grasp the one on your neck. “A-Astarion,” you breathe, voice hoarse as his palm pushes against the center of your throat. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you continue grinding your hips against his length, the head of his cock teasing your soaked entrance.

“What do you want me to do, Tavaria?” Astarion huffs out, voice desperate as he tries to resist the urge to sink himself into your warm, inviting center.

“I want… Gods…”

“What, do you want, Tavaria?” His voice is stern and demanding as he growls into your ear. “Tell me, now.”

Do you still want this, all of this? Us? …All of me?

Your head is swimming. You can think of nothing else but depraved, carnal lust.

“Fuck me, please, Astarion…” You open your eyes, hooded in lust, and meet his gaze. His mouth is slightly agape as he sucks in ragged breaths, his pupils blown wide. “Please, Astarion,” you beg.

The hand on your neck now rises to clasp your chin, holding your head steadfast. “Again,” he growls out, “say it again.” He grinds his hips further against yours.

You moan loudly into the night air, hoping no one from the nearby town hears. “Mark me, Astarion,” you manage to breathe out. “Fill my womb until the entire world can see what you've done to me.” You bring the hand holding your chin up to your mouth, placing soft kisses on the tips of his fingers. “Please,” you whine.

Astarion peels himself away from you in an instant, sitting up on his knees. “Turn over,” he growls out through gritted teeth.

It takes a second for the words to register in your brain, but your body inevitably moves as he commands. You turn yourself over on the forest floor, supporting yourself on your hands and knees. His palms sink into the plush flesh of your hips and he pulls you back toward him, his cock brushing up against the cleft of your ass.

You look over your shoulder to see him spit into his palm, working it over his length with urgent strokes. Suddenly the head of his cock nudges against your entrances and he sinks himself in. Your arousal provides enough support for him to fully sheath himself within you, and he hisses as his tip pushes against the end of your cervix.

Your arms give way and you lean forward onto your elbows, head dropping between your arms as your hips move of their own accord back and forth over his length. Your cunt throbs with each pass of his cock against your walls, and you sigh as it rubs against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“Gods, you are so fucking warm,” he growls from behind you. Astarion reaches forward and grips a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back up. His other hand is sunken into your hip in a vice grip, holding you in place as he continues careening you both toward completion. You know you'll have a bruise come tomorrow, but you didn't care. You want him to mark you, to claim you.

You desperately push yourself back up onto the palms your hands, your muscles struggling to support your weight as your pleasure builds. Your whole body is shaking as you continue to meet his thrusts with your hips. Astarion adjusts his angle ever so slightly behind you, the head of his cock now pushing directly into the spot that turns your vision hot white.

“A-Astarion,” you mumble as saliva pools in your mouth, “d-don’t stop-!” You feel your thighs quaking, your cunt fluttering wildly over his length as you draw closer and closer to the edge.

Astarion catches onto your rapidly approaching crescendo and increases the pace. The clearing is filled with nothing but the wet sound of your arousal and skin slapping against skin. He lifts his chin up toward the sky and his mouth hangs open as he moans incoherently into the night air, hips never faltering in their assault.

“My sweet girl,” he says to you, voice thoroughly and completely wrecked, “you always feel so good around my cock.”

You feel yourself clench around him in response to his praise, pleasured mewls escaping your lips. His hand releases its grip on your hair, coming to rest on your hip as his fingertips sink into the supple skin beneath them. He's spearing himself directly into your cunt, directly into that spongy spot inside you, and your arms falter once again. At this point, you're not going to last much longer.

You cross your arms in front of you, resting your head on your forearms. Your brain has ceased all logical thought as he fucks into you mercilessly from behind. You mumble a mantra of “please, yes, please, oh, there, keep going,” from under him. 

One particular thrust has you seeing stars explode behind your vision and you spill over the edge into oblivion. You think you scream, the pleasure ripping through you so intensely that it obscures your other senses, but they're muffled by your face buried in your forearms.

His hips still as your walls contract around him. He sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth, uneven pants escaping his mouth. He begins to move behind you again, his hips stuttering in short bursts into your wet heat. “I'm going… I'm going to…” he pants from behind you, chest heaving.

You manage to raise your head enough to look briefly over your shoulder. He looks thoroughly debauched; damp strands of silver hair are plastered to his face and beads of sweat drip from the tip of his nose.

He is devastatingly handsome.

“Do it,” you reassure him, softly. “It's okay.”

Astarion’s mouth drops open, a raw, guttural growl rupturing from his throat. His bottom fangs glint in the moonlight and his eyes roll back into his skull as hips finally cease. The grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you further into him, and then you feel it.

Thick ropes of heat coat the inside of your cunt and you moan, feeling some of it slip out between the place where you're joined and drip down onto the forest floor below.

With a drawn-out sigh, he slumps against your back, the added weight causing you both to collapse onto the soft earth below. You feel him mouthing softly against your back, leaving absent-minded kisses across your skin as his brain performs yet another hard reset, the second one of the evening.

Astarion’s senses finally return and he pulls himself free, rolling off of you and onto his back. You reposition yourself onto your side and slot yourself against him. His arm comes down over your shoulder, and you tuck your head against his chest. You feel Astarion kiss the top of your head, and you sigh in contentment at the warm gesture.

Neither of you speak another word, thoroughly spent. As your eyes fall closed, you nestle your cheek against his chest and hear the slow thud of his heart as it lulls you to sleep.

Within his arms, you are safe. 

You are loved.

You are home.

[lovelybluebirdie]

Something to care for

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion seeks comfort when he is terrified of losing you to his former master.

Word Count: 2,1k

hurt/comfort, angst and fluff

[ AO3 ]

Fleeting glances across the tavern, jovial laughter followed by a touch to his arm, and Astarion has exactly what he needs. Your trust builds fast over his charming words, so you agree to accompany him to the mansion without doubting his intentions. 

Astarion dissociates, follows his usual routine as he has done for over hundreds of years by now, while you remain blissfully unaware that you are already caught in his trap.

The scene feels painfully familiar, and yet it doesn't at all.

Uneasiness spreads over him. 

No, this doesn't seem right. 

Why are you here?

The next moment you lie on his old master’s bed, your eyes closed and shallow breaths emitting your lungs. A dark silhouette is bending over you, its mouth glued to your neck. 

Cazador.

Panic creeps down Astarion's spine.

No, this isn't right at all.

His thoughts start to race. He needs to free you from this monster's claws - now.

Cazador looks up as his lips form a hideous grin, blood running from his chin and spluttering on your motionless body.

“A very pleasant bouquet you have brought to me, boy. But you know of that already, do you not?”

Astarion freezes.

The malice in his voice shatters his ribs with the blow of an axe.

He wants to scream, to get you away from here, but his body doesn’t respond. 

Suddenly the whole scene shifts and Astarion finds himself with his fangs buried deep inside your neck, warm liquid pouring in his mouth while your hand rests loosely on his nape. 

An unbearable dread rises in him.

He desperately tries to tear himself away, to stop feeding on you, but an invisible force holds him down, leaving it impossible to let go. 

He must be going mad.

“You sought out to drink from thinking creatures, did you not? Go on then, lavish yourself on her blood! Bleed her dry.”

Cazador’s command unleashes like a fist to his skull.

Astarion knows that he is enjoying this, and it makes him sick. 

He concentrates back on you, frantically looking for a way to get you out of this. 

“It's alright, Astarion…” you whisper. “I know this isn’t… you.” You seem on the verge of fainting, the hand that rested in his hair slipping, your pulse weakening.

The fondness in your words almost breaks him.

He wishes to plead, to offer himself - to give Cazador everything he demands, if only he would allow you to leave unharmed, but he can’t speak.

Instead, he feels Cazador’s violent grip push him down, ramming his teeth deeper in your neck.

Astarion’s eyes wet and his body trembles while he’s obliged to swallow more of your blood. The thick liquid spills over his lips onto your neck, drips to your hair and paints the collar of your blouse.

Astarion knows that he’s hurting you, killing you, yet he has no control over his own doing. He can't stop, even if his whole body longs for nothing more than to release you.

His senses start to dull, colourful dots exploding before his eyes, while he’s unable to form a single coherent thought anymore, entirely helpless to this monstrosity he inflicts on you.

“What’s the matter, boy?” his former master taunts with a malignant chuckle and positions himself so that Astarion has to look at him. “Isn’t this what you craved? To be free of me, to do as you please?"

His laugh evolves to a gruesome crescendo, echoing through the dreary halls that Astarion once called his home - mocking him, a punishment for his disobedience.  

Astarion summons his remaining strength to banish Cazador from his mind and fixates back on you. 

He must save you, now, otherwise you will -

*

Astarion's lungs are on fire. His fangs ache, and his chest is bursting.

He grasps his throat and chokes as he remembers the taste of your blood in his mouth. 

Gods, what has he done to you?

He takes a moment to perceive his surroundings.

This is not Cazador’s mansion, he realises, but your shared tent in the camp you made near Rivington.

The essence of his nightmare returns with agony: his fangs piercing your neck, Cazador’s order to bleed you dry, while you were completely defenceless against his torment. The image is almost too much to bear.

With haste, he begins to fumble the woollen fabric of his bedroll in search of your warm body. He has to ensure that you are alive - that he didn’t hurt you.

Then his hand finds your wrist and he stops in his motion. He pushes the fright that shrouds him aside and feels for your pulse, careful not to wake you. There it is - a constant throb at his fingertips. 

Despite the evidence that the violent scene was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, he can’t bring himself to fully accept that there wasn’t an actual threat - that you are safe. Yet he has no desire to worry you with his musings, so he starts to slowly pull his hand away, before he notices that it’s already too late. You sit up beside him, rubbing sleep from your tired eyes. 

You look so adorable that his chest grows tight. 

“Astarion? Are you alright?” Your brow furrows when your gaze meets his, concern lingers in your voice.

Astarion opens his mouth, only to press it shut again as he feels hot tears forming in his eyes. He swallows hard. He wants to reassure you that it’s nothing, to tell you that you should go back to sleep, but the ferocity he committed in his nightmare robs him of any speech. 

You give him an understanding expression and lift your blanket. “Do you want to come over here?”

He nods and shifts towards you.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. Astarion sinks his head onto your chest and listens carefully to your heartbeat - to make sure you are truly unscathed. That he didn't kill you, didn't bleed you dry - that he has not become like Cazador.

The pulsing sound flows in a soothing rhythm. 

He closes his eyes and inhales your familiar scent. The weight that is crushing his lungs slowly begins to dissolve. 

You are so warm, he thinks, so comforting, always so affectionate.

“It’s alright,” you breathe and rest your lips at his temple. “He can’t hurt you now.”

There is no need to ask how you know what haunts him, you simply do, and Astarion buries his face deeper in your chest, grasps the fabric of your tunic and lets out a deep sigh. A few silent tears he has tried to hold back spill from his eyes, dampening your clothes.

Your hands draw circles on the small of his back, up to his shoulder blades, until they move to his hair and tenderly stroke along his ears. 

He concentrates on your touch. You are here, with him, unharmed - he didn’t hurt you.

A calmness enfolds and for the first time since he woke he allows himself to relax. 

Astarion suddenly wonders if he ever had something like a home, a real home, somewhere he felt safe - not Cazador’s mansion, the place from his nightmare, where he endured nothing but torture and cruelty.

Something he could choose for himself - willingly. Not something he was forced to, but something he wanted.

For centuries he was used to the pain he suffered under Cazador’s rule, but you've proven how different his life can be. Through the time he spends with you, he's learned that he is valued as a person. You make him feel seen - show him compassion and patience, despite him missing the words at times. 

You give him honest, loving affection, without any vile intent or in expectation of getting something in return. 

You are the only one who is like that. Who genuinely cares for him, who loves him. No one was ever kind to him, only you. No one has a heart like that.

Maybe a home isn’t a place, he thinks, but a person. 

He feels your fingers twisting gently around his curls, while he listens to the sound of your beating heart, and wishes to never let go of you. 

But there is still Cazador and the Rite of Profane Ascension to overcome, and his mansion is barely a tenday away from now. 

Astarion wants to shove the thought aside, but knows he can’t. Not when there is so much at stake - when you give him so much to care for. 

He envisions the ancient ritual Cazador has planned. 

If he was to complete the rite himself, would he become even more powerful than his old master? Would this newfound power offer you protection - keep both of you safe? 

But what if you came to harm once you entered his residence? Hells, what if it would be his fault?

The fear of losing you clings its relentless hooks back to his core.

Astarion sinks deeper into your arms and sighs.

No. He cannot lose you - not to the Absolute, not to Cazador or any other madness you have to encounter along your way.

His shoulders tense, leading you to squeeze them fondly.

“He won’t win, Astarion,'' you vow with the determination that Astarion knows too well by now. “We will beat him.”

At first he wants to scold you, point out how naive you were to think it would be an easy task to confront his past tormentor, but instead he pauses to consider. 

He remembers the foes you've come across on your journey. There have been gruesome, vigorous creatures among them, and yet you were able to vanquish them in the end.

Have you gathered enough strength to destroy a powerful enemy like Cazador, though?

For a second, Cazador’s liveless body appears in front of Astarion’s inner eye. 

Maybe, there was a real chance…

After all, to ensure that both of you will be safe - truly safe - Cazador must be ended, one way or another. 

“Is that so?” Astarion clears his throat and frowns. “Well, when you sound so resolute I find myself actually imagining us succeeding.”

Your features soften as you lean forward and put a kiss to his brow.

“I know we will,” you reply confidently. “Besides, for some reason I was declared the leader of our little group, so I'd suggest you better put some trust in my word.”

“I’m afraid being the leader of this group full of weirdos is hardly something to be proud of, love,” Astarion murmurs against your neck.

“That’s rich, coming from the weirdest of the bunch,” you tease as you tousle through his curls. “You’re a rogue who’s terrified of clowns - shall I go on?” 

Astarion snorts at your remark. “I'm not terrified of them!” he protests with a pout. “It's just.. They make me uneasy, alright? And they're not original - or funny. Honestly, I’d rather witness a goblin mating ritual than any of those wretched clown shows again.”

He removes your hand from his hair to intertwine your fingers with his. Then he recalls the image of the clown you visited at the circus the other day and his face turns into a grimace.

“Keep telling yourself that, but I know for a fact that you were absolutely petrified the moment you saw Dribbles.”

“That wasn’t even a regular clown - that beast was also a shapeshifter!” Astarion exclaims in feigned bewilderment.

You raise an eyebrow and wait for a moment, leaving Astarion curious, until you pin him down to tickle him all over.

“Stop it, you cheeky thing!” Astarion presses between his laughs while he tries to shelter his most sensitive parts from your ruthless fingers.

When he eventually manages to roll on top of you and grab your wrists, you look at him lovingly and catch your breath. He feels the remaining knots in his chest come loose.

Then your face turns serious again. “I promise you, we will beat him.”

“Stubborn as ever,” Astarion states and clicks his tongue, before his lips curl up to a genuine smile. “But perhaps I’ll remind you of that promise when the time comes.”

“By all means, I hope you do,” you assure and return his smile, your thumb softly brushing his cheek. 

You have a rare talent to relieve the tension, he notices. To make him feel light - to make him laugh even, a real, honest laugh, despite the horrors that linger on his mind of late. 

Astarion kisses the tip of your nose and lifts from your chest, resting his body against your back and draws you in a close embrace. Then he buries his face in your hair and presses a kiss to your neck, relishing your pleasant warmth. 

A sudden fire rises inside him.

The thought of facing Cazador remains scary, terrifying even, but somehow with you, he senses there is a viable chance to defeat him at last.

You give him something to care for, and he will do everything in his might to protect you - both of you, his home.

He won’t lose you, and he won’t lose this.

Masterlist

[lovrspell]

Reflection

Pairing: Astarion x Afab!Reader (no gender specific pronouns used, only anatomy)

Summary: Astarion can't see his own reflection as he fucks you, but he can still see yours.

Warnings: 18+. Katoptronophilia. Body worship. Fingering. Hair pulling. Sprinkled some dry humping in there. PiV. Creampie. Astarion has an oral fixation. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Word count: 3,3k.

Masterlist.

(Screenshot ↷ by @cheekylittlepupp, I cropped it a bit)

Astarion has accepted the fact that he'll never truly know his own appearance. Denied the privilege to see himself through his own eyes, he must rely solely on others' description to gather an image of himself.

Something which makes him feel particularly vain is hearing your own portrayal of him. You make him feel so beautiful, basically flawless.

You would tell him that he has hypnotizing ruby eyes, you would tell him about the way his white strands curl around his pointy ears or about the sensual curve of his upper lip — and he'll love it all.

In your bedroom, there is a mirror right next to your shared bed, against the wall. He likes to watch you through it when you get ready for the day or, which he prefers most, when you get ready for the night. Your pre-bed routine is sacrosanct and he somewhat finds it relaxing, too. He has learned the smallest of your habits in depth.

On the other hand, during your most intimate moments, he likes to turn his head to admire the shapes of your body, or, when he takes you from behind and holds his hand in the locks of your hair, making you sink your head into the soft mattress, he notices how your cheek slumps against it; how you drool, how your face contorts in pleasure...

On all the times it has happened, it has always been the breaking point for him. That view is all he needs to come undone. Perhaps that's why he doesn't do it too often.

So it usually ends at a quick glance, nothing more.

Usually.

He had different plans in mind tonight, it seems.

It's one of those nights where having sex was inevitable. It occurs when you feel that simply being close is not enough anymore; when you feel the compelling desire to mold into a shared existence and become one.

It's not that difficult to do something that makes the other shiver with the familiar thrill of arousal. By now you are used to it: you immerse yourselves in intimacy, in each other, ending up in a realm with no name, that is simply all yours. In moments of passion, you lose all sense of surroundings: be it on the bed, on a table, against a wall — on the floor, even. Nothing matters anymore, just the two of you.

“Come here,” he whispers against your lips, finally detaching from them after yet another intense kiss. He grabs your hips and pushes you onto his lap, his back resting against the headboard of the bed.

You follow the motion as your lips come to latch on his throat, where you plant wet kisses. Your arms reach around his back to wrap around him, bodies nestled perfectly like a lock and a key.

As you do so, you feel him doing something you absolutely adore: he lets himself go.

It's always a wonderful feeling: his muscles softening under your touch as he lets himself be touched, loved, explored; you touch him as if you are rediscovering him every single time. Moments like these remind you of how much he trusts you.

His head tilts to the side and he groans, arms snaking around your form and coming to a stop once they reach your rear, of which he grabs an handful.

He gives it a few gentle slaps, something he does to encourage you to come closer.

You oblige, scooting closer with your hips, making your sexes brush against one another above the fabric of your clothes.

His sex bumps into yours as he buckles his hips up gently one, two, three times. Enough for you to feel his cock slowly getting harder and harder under your spell.

The gentle movements earn a languid whine out of you, and you pull back from his neck only to meet his gaze.

Astarion leans in, parting his lips as his front teeth gently catch your cheek in an affectionate nibble, ensuring his canines don't intrude in it.

He adores those soft spots of yours. Perfect for his teeth to sink into.

You grin, giggling softly as you press yourself down against his hardening member; he feels the damp heat coming from your sex, even through your pants. Not surprising after your intense make out session that had been going on for at least thirty minutes.

A slow drag of your hips along his length is enough to make his nose scrunch up as he suppresses a hiss. You big tease.

His cock twitches for you.

But he's not going to let you know just how needy he is yet.

He moves his hands to your hips, bringing his lips to your ear and mumbling a gentle command: “Lie down, darling.”

You hum in understanding, but pull back from him reluctantly. The friction between your sexes had just started to feel nice.

You adjust on the mattress and as he scoots closer to you, your hands immediately reach for him again.

As he's at your side, his hands go for the hem of your trousers. His thumbs slip past the fabric so he can get ahold of your panties too, and slowly, he starts to pull them down.

Your breath is uneven already.

“Part your legs for me, yes?” he whispers, smiling wryly at you. He's awfully aware of how much these alluring commands can turn you on.

“Gods, Astarion...” you whine, biting the inside of your cheek.

He knows what that's about.

“Oh, come on. Don't be coy. You can't possibly be any wetter than what I've made you on other occasions.”

You roll your eyes, watching him as he slips those clothes past your ankles and finally, your feet.

Tossing them aside, his gaze returns to you and he gives you a knowing smile.

“Let me see it.”

You spread your thighs slowly, making space for him in between them — a space he immediately occupies. He looks down at your exposed sex, raises his eyebrow and hums.

“Could've been a lot worse.”

He takes such pride in knowing he can make you wet with so little. He'll brag about it. Tease you as if you can't make him hard as brick without even touching him.

“Oh, please. Don't start.” you reply, scowling.

“You know you love it.”

You're grateful he didn't notice the clench down there.

It is true, after all, that deep down you love it when you're left bare and exposed for him in all your glory — and sticky wetness.

Before you can muster up something to say, you feel a pair of cold fingers brush over your clit.

You gasp softly, as Astarion starts to trace delicate circular motions, swelling up that particularly sensitive spot. The pace is slow, but he puts a noticeable amount of pressure on it — enough to make your legs twitch slightly every time he touches it from a specific angle.

“How does it feel?” he purrs, persistently keeping his eyes on yours. “Feels good?”

All you can manage is a nod. Now, come on, you could've certainly saw his response coming,

“Use your voice, dear.”

You swallow, then mumble “It feels good.”

With his free hand he caresses your inner thigh, before slowly trailing it towards the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, until your breasts are left exposed.

The view is certainly pleasing to him — you could swear that you saw his ears perk up a little.

He sighs deeply, leaning down to plaster kisses all over your breasts. His lips find your nipple and he nibbles gently, sucking on it a bit. When he pulls back from it, a string of saliva still connects him with its hardened surface. You writhe in pleasure, wrapping both arms loosely around his head.

He rests the side of his face on your soft tit, his sensitive ear right where your heart sings a rhythmic armony. He listens carefully as it beats against his ear, closing his eyes. That's life flowing inside you. Your body hot and and lively and vigurous with passion is something he'll never tire to admire, feel or taste.

He can hear the noise the blood coursing through your veins makes, your heart pounding faster and harder as the pleasures builds.

In the meantime, his fingers trace your swollen clit for one last time before his fingers slide down to trace your folds expertly. When they reach the entrance to your sex, he traces a few circles around it.

“So wet,” he comments, sliding a pair of fingers inside.

They follow an agonizingly slow in-and-out rhythm. You squirm, moving your hips in the direction of his hand — it's not enough.

He feels his pants going quite tight as he works his fingers inside you, caressing your sweet spot in deep strokes.

“More,” you whine, squeezing his waist with your thighs.

He doesn't answer, but he does move his thumb to circle your clit gently.

He has to bite back a groan when your walls hug his fingers tightly and a pool of warm wetness drenches them.

You writhe underneath him and his cock responds to that unexpected motion with a twitch.

He pushes his hips down the mattress and ruts against it, since his cock is too far away from any part of your body that he could possibly hump.

He turns his head from one side to the other and as he newly nestles against your chest, adjusting comfortably.

Then he sees it.

Your reflection.

In the mirror, your arms wrapped around his head look like they're floating.

Back arched, lips parted, thighs squirming, eyes shut rightly...

You look sublime.

It's not the first time he's greeted by such view, but even so he can't refrain himself from commenting on it. You're stunning when you have any part of him inside you and you need to know that.

“Look,” he mumbles, but you don't hear him.

Lifting his head from your chest, he smoothly raises his free hand to grab your chin, turning your head toward the mirror. The abrupt motion interrupts your pleasure momentarily; his cheek presses against yours as you both face the mirror.

“Look at that,” he repeats, his fingers curling into your sweet spot deeply enough to earn a high pitched moan out of you.

Knuckles deep, his fingers now fuck you at a rather frantic pace.

“Gods, you're beautiful...” he mumbles, his eyes fixed on that image before him.

You don't even have time to process what he's saying that he's basically already grinding his hips against your inner thigh. He skillfully maintains a coordinated rhythm with his fingers even while he's pleasuring himself.

But this dance doesn't last long.

He has to be inside you.

You're about to approach the edge of an orgasm when he pulls away from you.

“Up,” he gestures with an hand, patting your thigh impatiently with the other. As you do so, taking your time, he's already unbuttoning his pants. Only when he lowers his underwear enough to let his cock spring free he does exhale a quiet sigh of relief. He pumps it a bit, glancing up at you as he does.

He's not surprised to catch you staring, lips parted to form an ‘o’ shape.

“Up, honey. On your hands and knees. And face that mirror.”

Oh.

“...The mirror?” you echo, raising your brows and searching his gaze again.

“Did I stutter?” he retorts, raising his brows in a familiar fashion, playfully mocking you. “Go ahead.”

You take a few moments to process that order but you eventually oblige, placing yourself on all fours in front of said mirror.

Astarion scoots behind you, hands coming up to the small of your back to press on it, making you arch. He hears your sigh as his hardened cock presses against your ass. His lips curve in a knowing smile when one of his hands cups your rear and squeezes gently. He drags his cock along it again, grunting.

You whine, looking back at him from behind your shoulder. “Stop teasing.”

“Patient is the key,” he murmurs, leaning onto you and planting a tiny kiss on your shoulder before his chin comes to rest on it. He observes your reflection with feline attention.

“Look up.” he orders, and so you do. You meet your own eyes, feeling a certain embarrassment; you've always found it kind of creepy how, whenever you cross a reflective surface and you're in his company, he's simply not there.

“Do I have to?”

“I'm not going to let that go unseen,” his hips press into you and he uses an hand to help himself part your damp folds with the tip of his cock. “you look so pretty when I fuck you senseless.”

You grunt as your lips part in delight, eyes fluttering closed. He fills you with his whole length, slowly, and you're already at his mercy as he begins thrusting at a lazy rhythm. Astarion's lips press on your ear and he hushes you when you whine, “I've not even started yet,” he mumbles, reaching an hand up to grasp your hair so to hold your head up. Yet again, you're forced to meet your own reflection.

“That's the problem.” you answer, earning a chuckle out of him.

“Trust me, darling, if I had let my instincts win I would have been ravaging you by now. But waiting makes the experience better, doesn't it?”

Every word whispered brings sweet shivers down your spine. His lips move down the nape of your neck as he makes sure you feel every single inch of him as he pushes in and out. The pace picks up gradually and his eyes never leave the immacolate vision ahead of you.

You look in absolute bliss, lip twitching up whenever he speeds up a bit. It's impressive how you seem to forget about the rest of the world in a flash whenever he takes you.

Astarion starts to get impatient with himself. His cock is straining and all he wants is to get straight to the point and fuck you into oblivion until you're a sobbing, stuttering, trembling mess. But he insists on fighting against that urge; he always plays this ‘edging’ game with himself. It makes it all the better, somehow.

“You there?” he asks after a few seconds, given the fact that you've gotten silent and dropped the whining. He lifts off your back and straightens his own. His hand leaves your hair, trusting you to keep you head up on your own.

“Hm,” you hum in response. It seems you've gotten quite fond of the slow, gentle rhythm.

He has to fix that.

Can't have you falling asleep now, can he?

His hands find the soft curve of your hips and he gives them a strong squeeze that only lasts for a second, like a warning. It seems to stir you up a bit.

He angles his hips in a way that ensures that each movement he makes meets your deepest spot. He switches to a rapid pace so suddenly that it almost makes you lose your balance and slip your hands past the edge of the bed.

Fortunately, Astarion is there for you.

He grabs you by the hair not so gently, pulling you up. Your back arches naturally as a yelp escapes you.

He grins, letting out quick puffs of breath with every thrust. One of his hands finds your throat and his fingers curl around it, while the other rests on your ass for good measure. He tilts his head back, loosing himself in the warmth of your wet walls.

But he quickly raises his head back up towards the mirror. Your breasts, partially covered by the shirt you didn't bother to take off, bounce with every thrust. And as if that sight isn't enough to make his dick twitch inside you, he catches a glimpse of you rubbing your clit as he's fucking you.

This view somehow encourages him to give you more. So much more.

Until you can't handle it.

He uses the hand around your throat to pull you against his chest: an hoarse moan rumbles in your chest and fills the room as the movement chokes you a bit, but you don't mind.

His hand leaves your neck and find the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to expose your breasts further. His other arm snakes around your stomach and your head tilts back, resting against his shoulder.

Astarion doesn't miss the opportunity to plant kisses all over your neck, nibbling here and there and leaving a few scratches with his sharp fangs. He doesn't make too much of an effort to find the point in which your pulse pounds, pressing his parted lips on it and sucking.

When he makes sure he has left an hickey, lips find your earlobe and he bring it in between his lips, suckling it gently. “Such elegance in your every movement,” he sighs, voice low and alluring. “impressive.”

You whimper in response, and as he tilts his to the side, he catches your hand trembling in the reflection.

Your brain fogs up and you reach that moment in your ecstasy in which you go limp, letting yourself go completely. Your stomach slowly twists in a knot as your orgasm approaches.

“Let me do it for you,” he whispers, gently pushing your hand away, replacing it with his own. His fingers circle your clit in quick movements that match the pace of his thrusts, which, however, gets messier and sloppier as he approaches the sweet edge as well.

He groans as his free hand gropes you all over, squeezing and pulling on the softest spots of your body he knows by heart by now. You manage to open your eyes and see clearly for a couple of seconds and, well, you're surprised to notice that the view ahead of you does turn you on some more.

There's just... Something in the way you know that it's Astarion reducing you to such a mess and and most of all, it's to be witnessing it in real time what earns a clench of your walls around his member.

The way your sex responds to that vision can't go unnoticed when Astarion is balls deep inside it.

He smirks, biting the shell of your ear as he rams inside you, chasing both yours and his orgasm. Your moans sound breathless as your clit swells with arousal under the tips of his fingers, aching for a release. You raise an hand up to grasp his hair, desperate for something to hold onto. You tilt your head so that you can meet his lips for a messy kiss, which Astarion reciprocates.

However, he breaks away with a growl when you start panting into his mouth. He watches the climax happen on your face, then your body: you tremble, losing control over your hips that chase those fingers on your clit and his cock. Both your shaking hands find his hips and you grip them tightly, dipping your nails in his flesh.

Your clit swells and your walls clench deliciously around his member, squeezing him in.

He stares, eyes wide and basically glowing.

His pace doesn't falter, not even for a second, although he pulls his hand back from your clit in order to focus on his cock straining inside you.

He whimpers desperately, getting impatient to come, which results in sloppier thrusts. His name leaves your lips in a sobby moan; you lose balance, letting yourself sink into the mattress.

He sounds so good. You grip the sheets tightly and he leans down, lips against the nape of your neck.

“Just a little more, a little bit more... I know you can handle it,” he mumbles breathlessly, feeling his cock twitch and balls tightening.

He looks up to meet the blessed view of you, squirming and spent as you cry into the mattress, muttering phrases of ecstasy he doesn't quite catch; he finds it adorable how you kind of... Lose your ability to speak properly when you're drunk on his cock.

His hips falter and he groans, sinking his fingers into your flesh and pushing you down against him. He feels his knees abandon him for a second or two as he spills his semen inside your aching cunt. The thought of pulling out didn't even cross him, not when you clench around him so tantalizingly.

He grunts, mumbling your name a few times as the last thrusts guide him over the wave of his ecstasy.

Next, he collapses on top of you.

You lower your ass under his weight, grunting. It takes a few moments, but he eventually lazily pulls out of you, unable to contain a small, content grin at the sight of his cum spilling out of your puffy sex.

He lays on his back beside you, making the mattress bounce gently with his weight as he settles. You turn your head to him, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He's following your every movement with his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, hand raising to caress your face.

You snuggle against the cool palm of his hand, giving up on trying to keep your eyes open. You give a slight nod, then ask: “Are you?”

“Do I not look like it?” he replies, smiling lovingly, fangs peeking at the corners of his mouth.

A comfortable silence falls between you two, but you're the one to break it:

“I might be into this whole mirror thing, y'know.”

He grins, narrowing his gaze. “Oh, love. I always knew you were a bit of an exhibitionist.”

“...It was your idea, I shall remind you.”

“And you went along with it.”

“I did.”

You yawn, leaning in to rest your head against his unmoving chest. He wraps you up into his arms and you do the same, lifting your head up to print small kisses all over his face.

You both lay there for a while, not bothering to get cleaned up right away: it has been like this ever since you've grown more comfortable around each other. You take it easy, savoring the aftermath of passion and the softness that comes with it, between giggles and stolen kisses.

[nerdburritos]

I'm starving, darling

summary: you and Astarion decide to play a little game of hide and seek.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: 18+ (MDNI) tags/warnings: blood drinking, explicit sexual content, porn with plot, predator/prey, smut, bodily fluids word count: 2.5k read on ao3: I'm starving, darling

a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!

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"I'm home, my treasure." You slowly rose from sleep as these sweet words were whispered into your ear. You had no idea what time it was or when excatly he came home from one of his important meetings he now had on his schedule nearly ever other say since slowly taking over Baldurs Gate.

It started quietly, in the shadows. Getting invited to important political events wasn't hard now, you were the heroes of Baldurs Gate after all, the rest was fairly easy. Astarion slowly slipped into politics, barely noticeable at first - advising here and there, helping out and funding the restoration of the city. Now he sat in the High Council of Baldur's Gate, slowly filling the remaining seats with his people - his personal puppets, dancing just how he liked. No one noticed how influential he actually had become at first, until it was too late. He had slipped into every important part of Baldur's Gate - politics, finance, jurisdiction.

He was no merciless leader but people respected and feared him and that's all Astarion has ever wanted. The Ascended Vampire, a creature of night being able to walk in the blazing sun, enter homes uninvited and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh - most people didn't even dare to question him, it'd be foolish anyways.

You opened your eyes slightly, seeing Astarion towering over you on the bed, caging you in with his strong arms, the soft black, satin blankets clinging to your frame. He was still wearing his outfit from his earlier meeting - a black doublet with gold embroidery and matching slacks, gods how you loved that outfit on him.

"Good meeting?" you asked while slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Astarion immediately buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone.

"Mh-hm." he mumbled, still buried in your neck while he placed his hands on your waist, pulling yor body closer to him. "Such fools, all of them." Your gentle giggles were quickly interrupted by a moan as Astarion started to lick from your collarbone up to your ear, where he gently nibbled on your earlobe with his sharp fangs, making you shiver in anticipation - he was eager.

"How about some dessert?" Astarion whispered into your ear, making his way down your neck again, nibbling and kissing… he wanted to feed, obviously. You smirked, quite in the mood for riling him up a little.

"No." You simply said, grabbing his head and pulling him away from your neck. The look upon his face said it all - red eyes wide open in surprise, a mix of "what?" and "how dare you?" written all over his face.

"Oh, my love, your forget yourself. You're in no position to deny me. I know you want it, darling." Astarion whispered again in that deep, rumbling voice of his. You quicky jumped out of bed before he had a chance to pounce on you, making your way on the other side of the room, giggling like a little girl. Astarion smirked.

"Hmm, so you want to play a game, little love? Very well, I'll indulge you." He slowly unfastened the cufflinks on his doublet, sending you seductive looks - by the Nine Hells, this man was a vision. "So, how about this: you run and hide and I'll try to find and catch you. I'll give you a head start of 5 minutes, only within the palace, no gardens." He ran a hand trough his fluffy white curls and you nodded. "And when I catch you, you'll be all mine, like it's supposed to be." Astarions red eyes bore right into yours and you nodded. All his.

"Very well then, run off, my love. I'll see you soon." You immediately took off, running down the hall, figuring out where to hide. You knew the palace inside out but so did Astarion. You had to switch your hiding places after a certain time, that much was clear, you had to win! Astarion was a sore loser, so seeing the absolute disbelief on his face would be priceless. You suddenly heard the door of your shared bedroom shut in the distance, has it already been five minutes or was he cheating already?

You quickly hid in the old storage closet, it was fairly empty with the expetion of some old boxes and a few brooms, a bad hiding spot but it had to suffice for now. Astarion slowly made his way down the corridor, whisteling a gentle tune, already sure of his victory and thinking about all the delectable things he might do to you later. He continued to stroll down the corridor with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks until he suddenly heard gentle movements from the laudry chamber next to him and smirked. How convenient. Sure it must be his little treasure inside, he ripped open the doors and stared right into the face of a shocked maid.

"Lord Ancunìn! How can I be of service?" she stuttered, right in the middle of folding the bedsheets, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

"Have you seen my consort, maid?" He snapped, already on edge. This was most embarrassing.

"I-i think Lady Ancunìn went further into the west wing, my Lord." Astarion slammed the door shut and made his way towards the west wing while you quietly removed yourself from the storage closet and headed into the opposite direction, quite sure of your victory but your inner celebration came to a quick halt as fast steps approached you. It was him but how? How did he know?

You quickly ran down the corridor and into Astarion's private study, the footsteps getting closer and closer. You were pretty sure that he used his vampiric powers to find you - that cheating bastard, he just couldn't bare to lose this silly, little game. The study didn't offer any good hiding spots either but you had no way out, Astarion was propably right behind you, you'd be running straight into his arms and you'd never hear the end of it. You slilently tucked yourself into a corner of the room, casting invisibilty just in time as the door swung open and Astarion stepped in, looking quite confused as the room appeared empty. He slowly shut the door, locking it - he knew you were still here.

"You can come out now, little love. There is nowhere to go." He chuckled, walking across the room and settling himself on the edge of his desk, leaning slightly back, waiting patiently - he knew the invisbility spell you propably casted was going to wear off soon. He proceeded to teasingly unbutton his doublet, eyes glancing across the room. By the gods, you wanted him but you were not ready to give up just yet, you still had about thirty seconds of invisibility left.

You quietly snuck to the door and teleported yourself out of the room - Astarion immediately noticed and ran after you, the doublet now open and his bare chest on full display. He saw you run across the corridor right in front of him as your invisibility slowly faded and let out a dark chuckle, he was enjoing this hunt massively. While your stamina was not bad, you were terribly aware that you could never outrun a Vampire, let alone an ascended one, Astarion was letting you get away with it, he was playing with you. You sprinted around the corner and came face to face with a wall, shit. You forgot that you closed off the entire wing that led down to the ritual chamber, only Astarion was able to enter and said Vampire was now right behind you, slowly getting closer and closer with a predatory smile.

"There you are, my little treat." You pressed your back against the wall, giving him a shy look, hoping you might get away with it. "Now, don't be coy." This was obviously not working, he seemed to be immunue to your charm so you had to beat him at his own game, that was your only hope now so you let him approach, playing the part of the poor, weak consort who just lost their silliy little game, his own damsel in the distress who needed a big, strong Vampire Lord to save her day. Astarion's protectiveness and his need to play your big, strong consort was a major turn-on for both of you. He loved to show off how powerful he was in comparison to you, knowing he could easily overpower but keep you safe anytime.

"Aww, don't pout." Astarion teased. "Don't you dare to give me an attitude now, my pet." He pressed you further into the wall, sure of his victory. You gave him a coy smile, placing your arms around his neck and Astarion was sure you were about to give in but you suddenly slipped down, crawling through his spreaded legs, freeing yourself and running away, laughing.

"Cheeky little pup." Astarion chuckled. "You want to play dirty? Fine, 'cause I love it dirty." He used his powers to teleport himself right in front of you, managing to elict a shocked gasp out of you.

"Cheater!" you yelled, ready to push him away but he immediatly grabbed your hands, pulling you into his naked chest.

"You're quite the insolent little pup today, my treasure." Astarion pushed you into the nearest wall, securing your arms above your head with one hand while the other made his way down your body, immediately cupping the sensitive spot between your legs - you let out a loud gasp. "My my, is this getting you all excited, my pet?" He leaned closer, whispering in your ear now. "Is this getting you all wet?" Astarion pushed his thigh between your legs, settling you down while still pressing you against the wall, making you whimper with need. He grabbed your hips and began moving them up and down his thigh, creating a dangerous friction between your legs and you let the most pathetic moan escape our mouth, Astarion laughed.

"Look at you, precious thing, you do want this." He gently nuzzled your neck, teasing the column of your throat with gentle kisses and the occasional suck while you continued to grind on his thigh, working yourself up more and more. Your sweet moans were nearly enough for him, he quickly freed himself from his slacks, giving his already hard cock a few gentle strokes while he continued to lick that delicious throat of yours. Your breath started to quicken, you were close and Astarion removed his thigh and pushed your dress up to your hips.

"By the Nine Hells…" he breathed as he saw your black thong, all lace, his absolute weakness. He deftly pushed the flimsy material to the side and ran a gentle finger through your folds, gathering some wetness before settling on your bundle of nerves, cicling it slowly.

"Oh Astarion…I'm gonna…" He immediately removed his fingers, one hand cupping your breast instead, gently teasing your hard nipple with firm, circling strokes of his thumb while the other one grabbed the base of your throat, applying gentle pressure, not enough to completly cut off your air supply but just enough to be noticeable.

"Oh no, my love, not yet." The hand teasing your breast moved downwards, grabbing his hard cock once more and slowly guiding himself closer to your aching pussy. He gently coated himself in your juices, letting the head run through your slit, teasing you and making you whine in anticipation before pushing just the tip inside of you. It took all of his strength not to take you hard and fast right now but he intended to drag this out, make you suffer.

"Astarion…fuck…." you whimpered, trying to move your hips closer to his, to slide him all the way inside but he kept you pressed against the wall.

"Tsk, tsk, good girls ask before they take what they want. You are my good girl, aren't you, precious?" he teased, gently cicling your clit with his thumb, biting his lower lip with his fangs on full diplay. You nodded vigorously. "Then tell me."

"Please…please, Astarion…"

"Please what, my love?"

"You've won! Please fuck me!"

"Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" He smirked arrogantly, placing gentle kisses on your neck again before finally sheathing his fangs into your throat and pushing his cock inside of you. Astarion moaned gently around your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he took generous gulps of your blood while pushing in and out of you at a tantalizing slow speed.

"That's a good girl." He felt your pussy flutter around him - gosh, the praise was really doing it for you and your blood began to taste even sweeter - your impending climax so close he could practically taste it.

"Fuck, you're being so good for me, my pet." Astarion took one more gulp before freeing his now blood-stained fangs from your neck, licking across the puncture marks to clean them. He now stared right into your eyes with his beautiful red ones, continuing his sweet, sweet praise while he slowly pushed in and out of you.

"You like that, don't you? The way my cock feels inside of you, like you were made for me." All you could do was moan and cling closer to him. "Fucking. Perfect." He slid out and pushed back in hard with every word, he was slowly losing control, getting closer and closer.

"Yes, my love, that's it." Astarion praised as he felt your pussy getting tighter. "Come for me." You saw stars as he started to tease your clit oh so gently once again and shattered around him. You felt yourself gushing, coating his cock with your release and blushed but Astarion seemed to quite enjoy it.

"Oh my pet, you've made such a mess for me, fuck…" His thrust were getting harder, sloppier, his breathing quickened. You placed your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer while resting your forehead on his, gently moaning.

"Please come inside me." You begged breathless, knowing this might send him over the edge. Saying that Astarion had a breeding kink might be far-feteched, he wasn't fond of children, he didn't even particularly like them, not to mention that a Vampire can't sire children, not even an ascended one but the thought of your pussy dripping with his release was enough. You pushed yur hips against his, helping him along and placed one of your hands on his defined chest, gently teasing his nipple.

"Oh fuck, little love, I'm gonna come…" Astarion's moan was the most beautiful thing on earth, you thought, you loved how vocal he was during sex, never above mentioning how good he felt or letting the occasional dirty talk slip in. Sex with Astarion was far from boring or vanilla. "Fuck." he nearly whimpered as he spilled inside you, his sloppy thrusts coming to a halt, his chest now pressed right on yours. You felt his hot breath on our neck as he buried is head into your shoulder, slowly coming down from his height.

You slipped your hands in his soft, white hair, slowly massaging his scalp and playing with his curls, feeling quite content and relaxed.

"Bath, my love?" he mumbled into your shoulder, already grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you down the corridor.

[yawnderu]

>Forever in love with the fact that Astarion canonically watches you sleep.

There's nothing but pure fondness in his eyes, his cheek resting on his cold palm as he takes his sweet time to examine your features. To admire the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, the way your face twitches every once in a while, likely from a dream you're having— and the way a small smile sets on your lips, perhaps even dreaming of him.

In a world where he knew nothing but torture and pure agony, you were nothing but his holy light. His saviour, his angel— the one reason he now believes in love, rather than pretending and seeing people as means to an end. Perhaps falling in love with a sacrificial lamb wasn't the smartest thing, yet he could swear his cold, dead heart felt the slightest hint of warmth whenever he was reminded of the chance you gave him.

“Hello, darling.” His tone is even and sweet the moment you stir awake, not bothering to hide the raw admiration taking over his red eyes. With the same love his gaze holds, you take your time to admire the man that Astarion is— the way his sharp fangs show whenever he speaks, the creases around his mouth and nose, the crow's feet, and the barely visible beauty marks all over his skin.

Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, spreading its warmth all over his usually cold skin, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone with a tenderness he's not used to. Despite a part of him almost begging him to pull away, he stays still, allowing you to caress his pale skin, soaking in the affection you're giving him— the life he dreamed of, something that seemed so unattainable in the past is now his reality.

His own hand comes up to cup your cheek as well, watching you lean into his touch with no hesitation or fear, a raw display of trust that'll warm his heart for every single century to come. He leans closer, his lips lightly grazing yours until you close your eyes, a silent promise of love ringing in the air the moment his lips finally make full contact with yours, kissing you with a gentleness so unlike someone his kind, reserved only for you.