#bg 3 fluff

[lovelybluebirdie]

Blood whispers

Astarion x gn!Reader 

Summary: On the night you almost killed him, Astarion promised to help you overcome your urges. When they suddenly threaten to overwhelm you again, he needs to take care of you.

Word Count: 2,8k

no warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff

AO3

Travelling across the shadow-cursed lands had provided Astarion some valuable knowledge. Not only had he learned the meanings of the scars on his back, it was also revealed that the scheme behind the tadpole in his brain was far greater than he had initially anticipated.

These discoveries alone should have been enough to keep him adequately occupied, yet there had been another novelty: for the first time in his life he had developed genuine affection for someone. Namely for you, the softhearted adventurer with an undeniable saviour-complex. You had filled his chest with an unfamiliar warmth and therefore led him to great confusion - at least until his constant brooding had left the inevitable conclusion that you meant far more to him than a solely guarantee for his safety.

His plan with you had been calculated to serve his own needs. He needed protection, so he had aimed to lure you into a selfish alliance by gaining your trust and using his charm to get you on his side. 

As it turned out, this simple little plan of his had fallen apart rather quickly: not only had he come to truly care about you, he had also openly admitted these feelings to you. To his surprise, you had shared that you felt the same.

Even though Astarion wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing with you half the time or where all of this was leading - being with you was astonishingly nice. 

From the moment Astarion had told you about his failed plan, you had decided to be with each other without sleeping together. For the past centuries, sex had been merely a tool for him to collect victims for his former master, so it still brought up feelings of loath and disgust. 

With you, he experienced that there was more to intimacy than sex.

At first, the thought of forming a sincere connection had terrified him. What was he to do with you, and how could he be close to you in a real way - in a way that mattered?

But somehow, you made it easy for him. 

You had been considerate not to overwhelm him with your affection. It had been small steps: a single grasp for his hand, some soft kisses in the safety of your blanket or a heartfelt embrace in between all the fights and mischief that paved the way along your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles.

Sometimes you would read to him, his head resting comfortably in your lap, while your fingers formed circles through his curls. He adored the feeling of your body close against his back, leaving the sensation of your warm hands on his chest the last thing he would remember before he would fall into his nightly trance. 

You made him feel safe, and he found himself positively enjoying your time together.

Of course there had also been that other night. 

That night, when the fear over losing you to your darkness had scared Astarion more than any torture his former master could have ever inflicted on him.

You had woken him with a vigorous shake, eyes wide open and sheer panic in your voice. “We don’t have much time,” you would say, almost swallowing your tongue. “I’m going to kill the person I care about most – and it is you.”

Flattery aside, the threat of being murdered by his lover posed a fairly unpleasant way to be brought from his rest, so Astarion was forced to act fast. 

You had spent the night with your wrists tied up while he watched over you, ensuring that you faced no harm. On the next morning you were yourself again, but the whole ordeal had left its mark on both of you.

And that was another thing about you: despite being the kindest person Astarion had ever met, you were also the only one that was cursed to unwillingly bring a great deal of murder and despair into this world. 

Those violent urges would occasionally infest your mind with a strong yearn to kill and destroy. Gruesome thoughts, suddenly engulfing you with malicious intent - their origin unknown to you. When you resisted them, they would usually fade as quickly as they came, leaving you with a throbbing headache.

One might say that those were not exactly the best circumstances for a blossoming relationship, but Astarion was not particularly impressed by such assumptions. In fact, he had learnt that there was a certain comfort in sharing the burden of internal turmoil. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had found himself drawn to you from the moment you had met.

Besides, Astarion was confident that you would find a way to rid yourself from these aggravating compulsions for good. After all, he had promised you on that fateful night - and even if he might exaggerate at times, he had meant every single word.

A light breeze rustled through the trees and brought him back from his thoughts. He sat next to his tent with a book in his hands and relished the last beams the sun would offer that day. The warmth was pleasant on his skin, especially after the long march that was behind him.

You and the rest of your companions had left the shadowlands a few days ago and were now heading towards Baldur’s Gate. After hiking through dense forests and small villages, you had decided it was time to make camp and continue your travels after dawn.

It was unusually quiet today. Perhaps the others were taking some time for themselves as well, he thought. You would probably gather around the fire later this evening, sharing some tales over a bottle of wine or discussing the next steps lying ahead of you. 

Astarion let his gaze wander, back from the other tents to a more secluded spot, where he found you. You were sitting in the grass, holding one arm out in front of you with a loaf of bread beside your feet. A small bird with bright orange feathers was fluttering excitedly around you. It seemed like you were about to toss it some crumbs, and it was impatiently waiting to get its beak full.

Astarion rolled his eyes. Typical. You would probably even share your food with some random animal if it meant starving yourself. 

Then again, it was also kind of adorable, he thought as his lips inevitably turned into a grin.

As he continued to watch you from afar, he realised that something was off about you. You weren't moving at all. 

That was odd. 

Your arm looked too stiff, slightly cramped even, and as he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he could see that your hand was clenched into a fist. It was as if you were forcing yourself to hold the position.

Astarion’s senses immediately sharpened.

He got up with haste, carelessly tossing his book aside and lunged towards you while calling out your name.

This was bad.

Uneasiness spread over his body like a rash, before he could even pinpoint what was going on with you. 

“My love, are you al-” The sentence stuck in his throat as he finally came to see you up close.

Your mouth was twitching, contorting your soft features into a grotesque grimace. You looked nothing like your usual self.

Astarion had seen this expression on you before.

His thoughts started to race, as he prepared himself to force you to the ground if necessary. He had no rope on him to restrain you, but in lack of a better solution his laces would have to do.

In any case, he would not let that thing take control over you.

He reached for your shoulder, bracing himself for the worst - but before he could grab you, your features already started to relax.

You must have snapped out of it. This was you again. 

You let your stiffened arm hang down and opened your fist, spilling the remaining crumbs on the floor. Instead of picking them up, the bird hastily flew away. Even the creature must have sensed that something was off.

Astarion let himself sink next to you in the grass and sighed. The danger had passed, it had not taken you.

“I wanted to feed it, I swear,” you explained between quivering lips. “But - my wretched brain almost made me kill this poor little thing.” Your hands were trembling, a deep misery resonating within your words.

A thick lump formed in Astarion’s throat as he noticed tears started to glisten in your eyes.

“I know, my love,” he said and rested his hand on your shoulder. “But remember, this isn’t you. And you brought the bird no harm.”

You swallowed hard and fixated him with your gaze. 

“Yes, this time. But what if I couldn’t have stopped myself? What if I would have killed it - just like that, without any other reason than my sick thoughts ordering me to?”

“Well, in that case…, “ Astarion replied and tapped his chin, “I assume Gale would have served you some poultry tonight. And I would’ve been glad to depend on blood for a chance, since you’d probably have to fight over that unfortunate little thing. I mean you have to admit, to fill the stomachs of our dear friends you should have aimed for something more substantial to mangle.” 

Astarion was no fool. This wasn’t just about you hypothetically killing that bird. Your urges evidently didn’t spare other living beings as well - including himself. This was serious, and yet he felt the need to cheer you up over some silly remark, as you would often find solace in your shared banter. While it was certainly not his best attempt to brighten the mood, it was an attempt nonetheless.

To his satisfaction, you huffed a quick chuckle that finally caused the tears in your eyes to spill over. 

“You’re pretty macabre, you know that?” you scolded and slightly shook your head.

“Am I now? Darling, I’m hurt,” he exclaimed in exaggerated dismay, before a genuine fondness took over his voice. “But honestly, I’m truly proud of you. I can only imagine the force that overwhelms you in those moments, and yet… You’ve proven more than once that you’re stronger than this.” He let his fingers gently brush over the wetness covering your cheeks. 

The gravity of the situation appeared to reclaim you with pressing weight, wiping off the faint smile at his clumsy attempt. You turned your head away from him.

“Astarion… I understand if you would hate me for this.” It was no more than a mumble coming from you, but enough to take Astarion aback. 

He gave his answer fast, almost instinctive.

“No, I could never hate you.” 

It was true. That he could never, not when there was so much about you to love. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say this out loud to you, not yet at least. 

Instead, a tight knot formed in his chest, as he watched your eyes focusing the space between your feet while you let out a quiet sob.

“My love, look at me.” He spoke softly as he reached out for you. With the utmost tenderness, he cupped your face in his hands and made your eyes meet his. “The other night, when you almost drenched my curls in a veil of the beautiful red of my blood, I made you a promise. You remember, don’t you?”

You nodded with your face still resting between his slender hands, as another quiet sob spilled from your lips. 

“Good. And I mean it still. We will get you through whatever the hells this is. We are in this together.” 

His voice trembled despite the honesty that fueled his words. Astarion had no intention to abandon you, the same way you had sworn to help him with his own demons. But this was not about him, this was about you.

You shifted a little closer and wrapped your arms around him - tentatively, almost hesitant at first, until you drew him into a tight embrace.

Your body was warm and pleasant against his, and he would let you hold him - not only because you needed this, but because he wanted to.

“It's okay my sweet, I’ve got you,” he whispered while he cradled you in his arms and let his lips graze against your temple.

Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt while he breathed words of comfort over the sobs that escaped your throat. 

For now, there was no need for anything else, only him holding you while you cried.

Had he not already sworn to rid you of this affliction, he would tell you over and over again like a broken record, until he made sure that every inch of your body was certain about it.

Eventually you would clear your throat and look up to him. Your face was still wet from your tears, but there was also a glimmer of hope to be found. 

“Thank you. For believing in the good in me, I mean. Despite all of this.” 

“Well, who else would I believe in if not my brave little fool over here?” Astarion said and put a quick kiss to your hair. “Besides, I have no intention of dying again, so ridding yourself from this murderous condition might align with that rather splendidly.”

Your lips curled to a smile, only to be immediately disrupted by a pained groan that left your mouth and made you wince in Astarion’s arms.

“How bad is it?” he asked with concern as he glanced at you.

Another wince. “Honestly? Like my skull was split open with an axe,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “But it’s not the worst I ever had. I’m sure it’ll pass any minute.”

You pushed your fingers to your eyes and stretched your neck upwards, causing Astarion to doubt your words.

He knew that those headaches came with your affliction. Sometimes they would dissolve rather quickly, other times they got so worse that you had to lie down and he would fetch you a cloth drenched in the coldest water he could gather. 

The urgent need to comfort you rose in him again, so he put his hands on your face and slowly pulled you towards him until he could feel your breath on his skin. Then he carefully rested his brow against yours.

That was the best he could think of for now. He closed his eyes and felt your familiar warmth spreading onto him, hoping that he would spend you some soothing coldness.

You remained like this for a moment, the only sound coming from your steady breath. 

Astarion eventually lifted his brow and placed the softest kiss on its former place, right where he assumed your pain was sitting. With his hands, he reached for the back of your neck, giving it a gentle massage.

Your eyes remained closed while you let out a silent moan. You seemed to relax from his touch, the dampness on your skin bathing your handsome features in a light shimmer.

There was this sensation again, something Astarion only had with you. A prickling flutter, spreading from his chest all over his body.

What had you done to him that made him so blissfully light and at the same time would completely sweep him off his feet? Had his heart still pumped blood, Astarion was sure it would beat up to his neck right now. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” His adoration made him almost stumble over his words, but he needed you to hear them. 

Then he kissed the tip of your nose, before his lips would finally find yours. You tasted soft and sweet, making him longing to have more of you. Heat rose to his ears as his tongue gently curled around yours, while your hand stroked through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He couldn’t stop his lips from forming a loving smile over your pleasant warmth, before they met yours again for another tender kiss. There was no tadpole, no Cazador, nor the darkness in you. This moment belonged to you and him alone - and every touch was right.

He finished your kiss with another quick peck to your forehead and cleared his throat. “I do rather like that, you know.” 

“That’s pretty convenient,” you whispered with fondness in your eyes, “because I think that actually helped. My head feels light again.” 

“I'm glad,” Astarion murmured with relief. “Is there anything else you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“For now, all I need is your presence,” you replied before resting your hand on his cheek. “Knowing that you'll stay with me.” 

“Of course, my love,” Astarion assured as he graciously sunk against your palm. “You’re not alone in this, you have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

And it was true. It was a promise, after all.

Masterlist

[lynnlovesthestars]

One and only.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!reader

Genre & warnings: smut and fluff, post act 3, soft Astarion, fingering, slight overstimulation and orgasm denial, unprotected sex, a lil of anxiety? and thinking but lots of love too, blood, biting.. I don't think there's more?

Words: 4.4k (damn i didn't think it was that long oof.

Healing is a slow process, but with you it's a little easier.

Astarion paced back and forth in front of the tent, weighing the words that were floating in his mind, the feeling that pooled in his stomach and shoved off the fear hidden in the back of his mind.

You were different because you cared about him. You reminded him every night before you'd close your eyes and fell asleep in his arms, and you respected him like none ever did. You reassured him whenever he'd ask you if you were still okay to wait for him until he was ready to try again with sex, and he was oh so grateful for it.

It's been around three years since you were free of the tadpole, you'd grown so much together: patching up each other's wounds while learning how to love. You taught him to be intimate without bedding you. You taught him how caresses could be so much more than sex.

He looked around the camp, you called your old companions for another adventure, helping you find a cure for vampirism, and they all eagerly accepted.

Aylin and Isobel were the only ones missing, literally.

You found a nice spot in the underdark, glowing mushrooms of pretty colors decorated all around you, and the circular cave was just perfect enough for the bunch of you.

You were fumbling around the fire, trying to roast a boar leg you got at a small merchant you found on the road.

Gale was trying to interfere with that boar leg cooking process, but you didn't want to hear him, especially after you had to live off his particularly unsavory stew for months, this time you were taking the metaphorical chef hat and feeding everyone with your newfound skills. Three years away from adventure had to be filled one way or another.

The camp was always lively, that's one of the perks of being so many.

Wyll was playing with Boo, while Minsc and Jaheira were playfully fighting over something dumb. Karlach and Halsin were fast asleep next to the fire, snoring loudly between Gale's words.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart were discussing as always and, though everyone was too distracted to hear him, Astarion was still mumbling to himself while pacing.

The dinner was great, you could see it in the eyes of everyone as they bit into the tender meat and shared stories. Minsc was deep into another tale of Boo, Jaheira and him as your eyes wandered to Astarion, which still hasn't had his dinner.

You couldn't see him, until you noticed that the oil lamp in your tent was on, and his shadow was fixing something around the tent. For what you knew he was moving the pillows scattered around, in a way that you'd be more comfortable while he fed.

They all knew at this point that you'd let him feed off you on daily basis, it started back while you were on your way to Baldur's Gate back then, and you took the habit so much that at a certain point you didn't even feel dizzy after he'd been done.

You excused yourself as you made your way to the tent, it was one of those nights where you needed an extra long hug, and a few kisses on the forehead.

When you opened the flap of the tent, he was still fighting with a pillow, trying to fluff it up just how he liked it, but failing. He was glad that he learned how to hide his emotions, shoving the tension down and away.

You kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his before taking the pillow from his grasp.

He followed your movements closely with his eyes, as you put the pillow on the floor.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but to watch you punch the pillow relentlessly, was definitely not on the list. Though after you were done, the pillow was somehow perfect. Was that how his pillow was always extra fluffy?

You gave him a soft smile before you tossed it next to the others, which you noticed were arranged differently, making something closer to a nest, than your usual layout.

You both didn't speak, you were so close that you'd know just by looking at your bodies, or the way your face crunched, and yours clearly said "cuddle".

In a matter of seconds, he pulled you in his arms before scooting closer to the pillows to rest there.

He loved the way you'd make yourself comfortable on his lap, how you wiggled for a moment before finding that nook where your head rested perfectly on his chest, and the way you would hum when you were happy with the position you chose.

He could live off just of that pretty sound that would come out of your lips.

You were so absorbed by the closeness that you didn't notice the barely perceptible hesitation in his touch, as he slowly turned your face to him, making sure you could hold eye contact for a moment.

The eagerness and the pure undevoted love were fighting with the fear, the fear of reliving those nights he tried so hard to forget, but at the end of the day, he needed you. He needed you more than he feared his nightmares, he needed to feel you around him, he needed to let you feel his love, his devotion, all of him.

If there was one person that he wanted to love so deeply, it was you.

So many times he thought of trying to have sex again just to see if he still was disgusted, but only with time he was able to realize that he wasn't disgusted by sex, he was disgusted of being stripped of his chance to back away. And the more he got to know you, the more he grew closer to you, the more he longed for you, in every way. It was no longer the need for release or just the fucking without attachments, he wanted to make love with you. He wanted to hear you moan his name like a chant, he wanted to feel your hands reach were no one was ever allowed to: tracing his back, on the dip of his lower back, around his hips, at the center of his chest, where his heart, your heart, resided.

There was no one else he desired like this, the idea of other people, or having other lovers but you, made him retch. He didn't want love unless it came from you, he didn't want sex unless it was you making him feel lightheaded. Of course it took him a lot of time to understand this, and a lot of work around his feelings, and his body, and you never shied away from any of his attempts to push his boundaries.

You helped him reshape the ideas of the smallest things, down to skinship.

Even after hours of brooding on how to ask you, he found himself speechless at the sight of your soft eyes filled with love, and the peaceful smile you gifted him. He was mesmerized.

It took him a second to just recollect, as he took his time ingraining in his mind that look he loved so much.

"My love" He whispered as he cupped your cheek, making you lean into his touch. "I've been thinking a lot" His thumb traced your cheekbone ever so slightly, drawing a delicate humm from you. He had planned a lot to say but as you leaned close, the speech was already out the window. So he just lowered you on the bed, and crashed his lips to yours.

It took you a second to process the unexpected movement, but a second later you were lost within his kiss.

Initially it was rough, the way he gripped on you, like an instinct that he could barely control, full of yearning and need, but slowly, the more you relaxed in his arms, savoring the taste of his kiss, the more he would slow down, like a love poem traced with his whole body.

His hands would graze over your hips, your shoulders, your neck, every bit of exposed skin was being caressed by his slender fingers, holding and molding your body like it was putty.

He rested his forehead against yours as he caught his breath, and allowed you as well. His eyes were closed as he was lost in your sweet scent.

It took him another long moment before being able to control his breath, regain his senses as his head was already spinning away.

"My love, allow me.." He breathed ooutsweetly as he latched his hand around yours, your fingers intertwining in his like an instinct. "Allow me to feel you." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "Allow me to make you mine" The words came out almost as a plea, like a starved man that was in front of a banquet and forced to resist the need. His lips traveled to your neck, resting where he'd usually drink from you.

"I'm already yours" You whimpered as you could feel his teeth graze, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with tenderness, as his eyes were rounder than usual, and his gaze was soft. Though there was a yearning feeling in the bottom, drowned momentarily by the adoration.

So many nights you had to leave the tent to take care of your needs, as you didn't want to burden Astarion with it. You wanted him to be fully there as he helped you release all that pent up tension, not just a shell of him. You craved his love, not his body.

You had to resist the very urge to push your hips against him, even though he was asking you already. You wanted to make sure he was truly okay before making any movement.

He groaned as he tilted your neck, pressing his lips right under your chin, and descending between your clavicle. He wanted to worship every millimeter of you, no skin would have to go unkissed.

"I want to make love to you, my one" He left a bite on your shoulder, no teeth were deep enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to steal a delicious mewl from you.

His words made your heart roar.

You raised your head enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes, now sultry, half closed as his lips still rested on your skin, dropping sweet kisses right where he was.

"Mh, you sure?" You asked as your body basked in the attention he was providing.

"Like I've never been before. I dreamt for so long to have you wrapped around me" He moved again, until your chests were against each other, and your noses were meeting. "I want no one else but you. I want to know what having the love of your life so close, so vulnerable feels like" He placed a quick kiss on your nose. "I just want to get lost in you, to hold you like I've never held anyone" his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to him, like he wanted to merge your bodies. "I want to be one with you" He whispered as he closed his eyes again, inhaling your flowery scent mixed with his.

Your heart was pounding so loudly against your rib cage that you would have sworn he could feel it without leaning in.

You wanted to sound louder, but as your lips opened to say that yes, the sound came in almost a strangle

by all your emotions.

Astarion's eyes glimmered with a light you've never seen before resting there.

He was gentle as he undressed you, every inch that was being revealed to his eyes, was met with his yearning lips, drawing all sorts of pleading sounds from you. Your body was already shaking like a lire string as it was touched, and your lips chanting a melody for him.

His descent was agonizingly slow, but what struck you was how his movements were.

You knew he was well versed in sex, but the way he was caressing, tracing, kissing, biting, was the one of a man that was trying to listen to your reactions, to savor the tiniest sensations, to learn his lover, such a difference from the confident man that fucked you senslessly in a forest three years prior.

It was no longer about repayment for the feed or protection, it was pure undevoted love in each touch.

Just with those miniscule attentions, your heart was swelling for him, and little did you know that he was hitting him as well, all your emotions flowing around you in the small space of the tent.

Your clothes were soon on the other side of the floor and you took your time admiring him in all his beauty: the way his chest was rising, the way his skin was covered in small old marks, so carefully healed that you wouldn't be able to discern them unless you would be trying to remember his every pore.

"Gods i wish you could see yourself through my eyes right now" He sighed. "I've seen you naked so many times, but right now? No goddess could compare next to you" He kissed your navel delicately as his fingers were grazing your thighs.

You could feel your cheeks igniting at the praise. You wished for a moment you still had that tadpole eating your brain, just for a second to show him the true vision. His body was so perfect in front of you, the truly breathtaking view. You could have sworn he would have made such a perfect painting.

Before you could open your mouth though, he was praising you again.

"No words would be enough for me to explain how every curve of your body makes me ache for you, my one" He leaned forward, placing wet kisses from your neck, down to your hips, over and over again until his name was a broken mewl from you lips.

He stopped between your thighs, taking his time to spread you wide open for him. He kissed that spot that caught his mind right away, that perfect dip of your hips, where stretch marks were concentrated.

He hummed as he couldn't help but graze them with his teeth, stealing one moan that made him almost melt.

Then agonizingly slowly he kissed the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses until his nose brushed against your clit. You wanted to beg for him to eat you, but his head turned towards the other tight, repeating the tantalizing trail of kisses until he reached for your dripping cunt.

"You are so ready for me" He kissed right above your clit, teasing you more and more. "But I have to dine first" a finger gently traced the outline of your lips, taking his time before dipping it between your folds, and earning a moan. It was so long since someone touched you, you could feel your whole body clench at the smallest touch.

He kissed your thigh again, sighing at the softness of your skin. You were so wet he just inserted another finger in you and started pumping in your pussy, drawing those perfect moans from you again, music to his pointy ears.

Then as he added another finger, his teeth sank in your plush thigh. All of your senses jolted up, amplifying everything as he started drinking from you.

His slender fingers reached right where he made you cry in pleasure, as you slowly gave in to the lightheadedness.

As he kept feeding, he still worked you like he knew every movement that would make you whimper, drawing always so near to your orgasm before pulling away.

Moments later he finally let go of your thigh, his teeth slipped away from the pricks they had made home in, and licked away the rivlet of blood still spilling from the new wound, causing your body to arch even more under his tongue. You were so close, so desperate to come you'd chant his name like a prayer, just so he'd taste you.

Instead he pulled out his fingers, taking one at a time in his mouth and sucking your slick off of them.

"You are delicious, my love" He moaned as he popped each finger out of his lips.

You were on edge, so tempted to take control and ride his face until you'd come on his lips, but you had to restrain yourself, you wanted him to guide you through it, you wanted him to have full control of his and your body.

His tongue reached for the rivlet of blood on his lips before pulling you in his lap, your thighs wrapped around his hips like they were made just for that. You could feel his erection press against your folds as he pulled you closer.

His lips and yours clashed together in something that was akin to a slow dance, your arms wrapped around his neck, while his held you by your hips.

You could drink the sighs he was letting out, the smile he grew in that intimate moment, the reason why he wanted you in this position.

For months he tried to imagine how he wanted to make love to you, how he'd feel the safest, and his mind always came back at the idea of your chests against each other, your lips so close he could kiss you, but also where he could hear your moans the closest. How he wanted you to rest against him as he whispered how perfect you were for him, he wanted you. All of you. All of your warmth, all of your skin, all of your sights, he wanted to see how he was affetting you, and how you affected him. He wanted to lift your chin, to kiss your neck, he wanted the both of you to find respite in the tight hold.

Seeing you so close to him, so vulnerable just how much he would be, it was how he wanted it to go, cause this for him was like a first time. He wanted to be overwhelmed by you, as you consumed him.

He wanted to feel his home in you. In you and only you.

He took a moment, resting against you, clinging to you like you were going to disappear from his grasp.

"If you want to stop, you just have to say it, my star" You whispered as you rested a hand in his hair, drawing circles on his scalp as he breathed in your scent, that was slowly mixing with the smell of sex.

"No my love, I'm just bathing in you before doing anything else" He admitted, placing a kiss on your neck, where he was resting his head.

"I don't think I could ever exchange this for anything. No power, or castle could compare to the home I made in your heart". His words were warm, caring, just like scorching fire against ice.

"I love you" You murmured as you caressed his cheek, and brought him back to you.

"I love you too, my one" He kissed you slowly as he guided you up. Bringing you to rest your forehead against each other as you slowly sank on his length. A gasp simultaneously filled the tent, so loud it could wake up everyone, but you didn't care. The air was pulled out of your chests, as you clinged on each other.

You both waited a moment before doing any movement, both overwhelmed by the closeness and the pleasure.

You wrapped around him so perfectly, he could barely keep any control over his body, his mind or his lips.

"Mh so perfect for me" He whispered sultry, as he guided you through the slow movement, allowing him to bottom out before having your hips meet his again, stealing another breathy moan.

It was slow, tender, so much that you could feel your eyes become glassy.

Nothing could ever compare to the fire that was spreading around your body as he picked up pace, stealing everything from you. Your air, your whimpers, your heart, over and over again.

He wanted to savor every inch of you, he would allow himself to fill you to the hilt, as he threw his head back.

"M-mine" He lulled as he couldn't resist the urge to go faster, his body loosing control of his movements.

It became all so sloppy, ragged as he grasped at you ass, his nails sinking into your skin as he slapped his hips against yours.

"This is what you do to me" He rasped as he lolled his head back. His hair wild as some curls fell on his face. His mouth agape as he choked praises.

Sweet gasps echoed between the syllables of your name, as he submitted to the pleasure.

He wanted to scream, to let everyone know you were his and no one could ever coax those sounds from him like you did, so effortlessly.

Your fingers twirled naturally around his curls, pulling his head to yours as you deepened the kiss along with your movements, savoring the taste of his lips and sweat as you made him see the stars.

You drank each other's moans with your lips as you completely gave away to the pleasure, as you gave all of you to each other.

You could barely register who was directing, cause your bodies just felt like one. Molten lava simply mixing as it burned hot like the hells.

You were so close, your whole body shaking as you could barely form a proper sentence. "L-love y-you" You muttered though your tongue felt indescribably heavy and light simultaneously.

You were drunk on him, your eyes rolling back as he hit that spot that could make you come undone. He worshiped every inch he could reach with his lips, making sure your body was left with a memory of the night, of his trust, of his love.

"You fill me so well" you praised with the last bit of your sanity, stealing the most precious sound from his lips.

Euphoria washed over Astarion as he was high on the feeling of your pussy clenching uncontrollably around him.

He pumped in you insatiably as you could feel it build up, the familiar knot as your muscles tensed up, feeling the heat rise and your legs shake.

You were not sure what it was, maybe it was the moaned praises, or his touch, or the way his hair bounced as he sank in your, but you felt your body being stripped of all the flesh, pleasure taking it's place as your orgasm washed over you. Your head rested on his shoulder as he was still lost in you, so close to his own release.

You knew that the only sound in the camp was your skin slapping, and the lustful sounds you'd make for each other.

The frenzy turned into a slow-burning passion, his hips rhythmically pounding in you as his lips met again with yours in a matching kiss, your moans mixing in the middle as you could feel it again, your orgasm building so quickly you barely had time to process how sensitive you were.

You let go of his lips to admire how his mouth parted, a series of whimpered moans fell from his lips as you could feel every inch of you being dragged away in the second orgasm at the sole sight.

His hips stuttered once, twice, before the arrogant orgasm sent him to the moon, spilling all his cum in your warmth.

He stayed in you for a few more moments as he processed how elated he felt.

There was no one else in the universe that would make him feel so safe, so loved. He was gentle as he laid with you in his arms, drawing shapeless lines along your velvety skin.

He couldn't hold back the tears that were forming at the edge of his eyes, as he held this night so close to his heart. For him, this was his first time, and it was with you, his other half.

You noticed right away when the first few tears started tracing his skin. You were so afraid of his reaction that this was like a shock to you, in a way.

You prayed the morninglord he wasn't already regretting the intimacy, maybe he didn't feel what you felt: that sense of belonging, the overwhelming love.

You cupped his cheek as you caught a tear with your thumb. "Are you ok, my star?" You whispered as you took away another and another with tenderness that made Astarion even more emotional.

He slowly met your gaze, his eyes so soft and his lips curled in a tender smile as the droplets still descended down his cheeks.

"I'm perfect, my love" He rested his hand on yours, clasping at your fingers and bringing them away from his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" You offered a reassuring look, the one he learned meant that you were a safe space where he could speak his mind unfiltered.

"I dreamt of this nights for months, how I would ask you, and how I'd hope this would carry out" He exhaled for a moment as he toyed with your fingers.

"And none of those dreams could ever get close to this" His smile was getting wider, accentuating those lines you loved so much.

"I don't care for sex, unless it's with you. Unless it's loving you with every inch of me, unless it means undressing ourselves and being exposed in all our vulnerability. Unless it means I get to feel you become part of me" You were absorbed by his words and his eyes, that you didn't notice he let go of your hand to hold you closer.

"You are the other part of me", He let out shakily. "I might even say you are the best part as well." He kissed your forehead tenderly. "You are my one and only" He whispered at last as he dragged the blanket he had left on the side, on your bodies. You murmured something between a love confession and a praise as he lulled you to sleep in his embrace.

You were fast asleep as he finally remembered what he was forgetting.

He summoned a mage hand, trying to be as silent as possible. The ghostly arm reached under one pillow and pulled out the velvety box, before shoving it in Astarion's backpack and dissolving its form.

"Tomorrow" He noted in his mind. "Tomorrow I'll ask you"

[astarionsonly]

too sweet. astarion ancunín. ღ prompt: ,,don’t be so nice to me, it makes me want to be nice back." ➷ synopsis: tending to astarion’s dagger wound and comforting him, softly opens up a side of his you’ve never seen before. <3

: ̗̀➛ as the moonlight filtered through the dense forest canopy, you found yourself tending to astarion's dagger wound with gentle care. his usually sharp features softened in the dim light, a vulnerability peeking through his stoic facade.

“don't be so nice to me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of pain and gratitude, "it makes me want to be nice back."

you couldn't help but smile at his words, realizing that beneath his aloof exterior, astarion held a tender heart. with each soft touch, you felt the tension in him ease, his breaths becoming steadier. as you bandaged his wound, he gazed at you with a mixture of admiration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rustle of leaves. "i’ve never met someone as kind as you.”

your heart swelled with warmth at his words, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. in that moment, the distance between you seemed to vanish, replaced by a feeling of comfort.

as you settled by the fire, astarion's usual sharp wit softened into genuine conversation, something you were touched to witness.

and as the night wore on, you found yourself falling for the enigmatic vampire, drawn to the kindness that lay beneath his mysterious charm.

in the quiet of the forest, under the watchful gaze of the stars, you realized that sometimes, it's the tender moments that reveal the truest parts of ourselves—and in astarion, you had found a heart worth cherishing.

[mooshywrites]

Bloodied Stars - Part 4 - Velvet Hairpins and Plush Pillows

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

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Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 6.3K

Warnings - (Series contains - Angst, “enemies” to lovers, pregnancy, disagreements, slow character growth, smut, typical asshole ascended astarion behavior, cliffhangers, murder, death - This takes place after the events in BG3, the ‘reader’ (you) is not Tav. Just a Baldur’s Gate resident )

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“Yours always.”

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Chapter List

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“What’s his name?” you asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even register them as thoughts.

“Astarion,” the pale man whispered, his voice more tense than before. He slipped past the door and shut it before you could ask anything else, leaving you in the dark dusty room.

You fell back against the bed, too tired to cry any more than you had. You stared at the gold and red stitching on the duvet below you, trying your best to ignore the shade’s dead match to the Vampire’s eyes.

Astarion, you thought, rolling the name around in your head.

Sleep pulled you close faster than you could realize, the chaos of the day already fading. Images of Astarion danced in your mind, his sharp features softening the same way they did when you caught his mask slipping. The way his eyes held a stormy complexity that both intrigued and terrified you.

Before your eyes fluttered shut for the day, your naive heart couldn’t help but remember his all too pretty lie.

“We could be a family.”

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The next morning, you awoke to a soft rustling sound in the room. Slowly opening your eyes, you blinked in surprise to see a small figure hovering at the foot of your bed. It was a pale wiry woman, her features much softer than the spawns you’d seen thus far. Thin wrinkles creased her eyes and her smile lines, making you wonder how someone who looked so happy could be in a place like this. She hummed softly, her melody winding through the air beautifully.

“Good morning, Miss,” she chortled, giving you a warm smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, her comforting aura shining brightly through the dusty room.

In her hands, the spawn held a tray filled with an assortment of breakfast items. There were delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar, fresh fruits arranged in an artistic display. There even sat a cup of fragrant tea in the corner, steam rising in tendrils. The spread looked like something out of a lavish banquet, not a meal found in the home of a vampire.

“Where did you get all of this?” you questioned shyly, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Well I made it,” the woman replied with a grin, setting the tray down next to you.

“You cooked all of this?” you asked incredulously.

The woman chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement at your disbelief. “Yes, indeed, I did,” she confirmed, her voice carrying a gentle lilt. “Cooking is one of the few joys I still hold onto from my human days. Though the skill goes to waste most of the time in this house.”

“It really is lovely,” you whispered, sitting up and giving the tray another once over.

The spawn accepted the compliment graciously, her smile growing wider as she gave you a slight nod. Warmth bloomed in your chest, your heart clinging to someone so kind in a place so compassionless. The spawn before you seemed so different than the others, almost sounding maternal as she explained the different dishes.

As you both made small talk, you couldn’t help but be more and more drawn to her infectious energy and kind demeanor. The way she spoke about cooking with a mix of nostalgia intrigued you, making you want to know more about her past.

To know that despite vampiric nature, someone could still have some humanity.

After a while, you finally gathered the courage to ask for her name. She paused for a moment, as if contemplating whether to share that part of herself with you. Then, with a soft smile, she whispered, “Evelyn. My name is Evelyn.”

The name rolled off her tongue like a melody, fitting her perfectly. You repeated it back to her, savoring the chance to connect with someone though you were trapped here.

With a graceful gesture, the woman handed you the cup of tea, the rich aroma enveloping you like a warm embrace. It smelled of deep herbs and spices, faintly sweet after a while. You took a small sip, worried you’d look like a starved animal if you ate at the speed your growling stomach demanded.

The woman let out another melodic laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Go on, Miss,” she urged, her small hand gesturing towards the feast before you. “Don’t be shy. I’ll still be here to keep you company while you eat to your heart’s content.”

You tentatively picked up a delicate looking pastry, its flaky crust glistening in the warm candlelight. As you took a bite, the taste exploded in your mouth. A perfect blend of buttery sweetness that made you all but forget about the ache in your stomach. But as you swallowed, a sharp pang shot through you, and you immediately felt queasy.

Evelyn noticed the sudden change in your souring expression and reached out to your arm, concern etching lines on her forehead.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asked softly, the genuine worry evident in her voice. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but the discomfort gnawing at your insides made it difficult.

“I- I think I just need a moment,” you managed to say, setting down the half-eaten pastry with a trembling hand. The woman’s eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to pat your hand gently.

“It’s alright, my dear. Don’t force yourself to eat it,” she assured, exuding care. “Perhaps it’s too rich for your current condition.”

You felt a surge of guilt at her words, knowing how much effort she must have poured into preparing the breakfast before you. How you had hoped with all your heart that someone in this house would be kind, yet here you were, too weak to accept the gesture. The woman seemed to sense your inner turmoil and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Do not fret, Miss. I understand pregnancy can bring about peculiar cravings and aversions. Especially with a dhampire child,” she said with a comforting smile. “Let me bring you something lighter that will nourish both you and the little one.”

“Dhampire?” You squeezed her hand back, hoping she wouldn’t leave just yet. As painful as it was to admit, you felt so much safer, so much more cared for with the woman here.

“Dhampire,” she repeated with a nod. “A child conceived of a vampire and non-vampire. I can’t tell you much more than that, the Master should explain all of that to you.”

“I don’t want to see him,” you said quickly, trying to keep the panic out of your tone. The hurt of the day before was still raw in your chest, you weren’t sure if you could face the man without devolving into a storm of tears.

Whether that was the hormones or the being kidnapped part, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh, miss,” the woman sighed, giving you a pitying stare. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, her expression softening as she gazed at you with a mix of sympathy and understanding. With a gentle touch, Evelyn reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, her touch cool and comforting.

“I can see that the Master’s actions have left a mark on you,” she murmured softly, her voice carrying an underlying current of familiarity. “I won’t tell you what the right thing to do is. But you can’t avoid him forever.”

“I know,” you whispered, feeling a sense of resignation settling in your chest. Despite your dread at the thought of facing him, you knew Evelyn was right. You couldn’t close yourself off from him, especially not in his own home.

“I’ll put together something lighter for you to eat, my dear. Someone will bring it to your room shortly.” Evelyn cooed, her thumb rubbing circles on your hand.

“Can’t I go with you?”

Evelyn’s eyes softened with a mixture of sadness and longing, seeming to want the chance of more time with you. There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke, her voice gentle yet firm.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, dear. The Master has given strict orders that you are to remain in your room until he decides otherwise,” she explained, her delicate features betraying a hint of worry.

You felt a surge of frustration suddenly, your condition hurtling you into a new emotion. If you were going to be imprisoned here, the least the arrogant “Master” could do is let you into a hallway.

As Evelyn rose from her seat, her movements graceful and purposeful, she leaned in closer to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Be patient, my dear. If anyone can get through to him, it’s you,” she whispered. “He’s already been out of sorts since the first night you were behind these walls.”

With that, she glided out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the remnants of the uneaten pastry.

You watched Evelyn disappear through the partially opened door, the soft click signaling your solitude once more. Her words lingered in the air, your feelings growing conflicted. The dusty room suddenly felt oppressive, the weight of your confinement bearing down on your shoulders.

With a determined sigh, you rose from your bed and set about tidying up the neglected room. The dust motes danced in the magical light, making you wonder how you made it all of this time without being reduced to a puddle of sneezes. The soft glowing light from the room made you wonder, realization dawning on you that this room was much brighter than the hallway you were carried through.

With vampire’s having near perfect night vision, did this mean that someone had purposefully lightened the room for you?

You shook off the idea. The last logical thing would be to think that your kidnapper cared about you at all.

You rummaged through the bookcase, stumbling across an old rag. With meticulous care, you began to scrub away the inch thick layer of dust, each swipe revealing more of the delicate wood beneath it.

As you cleaned, a sense of purpose began to ease your anxieties. The rhythmic swish of the rag against the wooden surface was strangely soothing, almost hypnotic. Each stroke revealed the intricate carvings on the bookcase, depicting scenes of knights in battle and dragons breathing fire. The craftsmanship was remarkable, each detail painstakingly etched into the wood with precision.

Lost in the beauty of the carvings, you almost failed to notice the faint creaking sound coming from the corner of the room. It wasn’t until you heard a soft click that snapped you out of your trance. Glancing over, you saw a previously unnoticed door slightly ajar, sunlight streaming in from the other side.

Curiosity piqued, you cautiously made your way towards the door, your footsteps silent on the dusty floor. Pushing it open further, you were greeted by a washroom that seemed to belong in a palace rather than a forgotten room.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked towards the stained glass windows. Why on earth would there be a source of sunlight in the home of a Vampire? Even if being ascended meant you could walk in the sun, you knew for a fact that the spawns couldn’t.

Who was this room meant for?

You stepped further inside, gazing around the room. The walls were adorned with shimmering mosaics that glinted in the light of the colored glass, casting a rainbow of reflections across the marble floor. The air was scented with the sweet fragrance of dried lavender and jasmine, the tiles beneath your feet cool and smooth.

A large claw foot bathtub sat in the center of the room, its gleaming surface inviting you to sink into its depths and wash away the grime of captivity. Dusty towels were stacked neatly on a golden rack, perfectly placed next to the row of dishes filled with bars of soap.

Overwhelmed by the sudden luxury surrounding you and the mystery of its existence, you felt yourself growing tense. You quickly stepped back, shutting the door to the washroom gently behind you.

As you turned around, you were startled by your bedroom door swinging open. Your eyes tried to adjust to the dimmer light of the room, focusing in on the figure. Your eyes widened at the sight of Amastacia standing there with a tray in her hands.

Amastacia’s presence sent a surge of anger coursing through you, memories of her betrayal flooding your mind. You could feel the heat rising within you, the urge to confront her clawing at your insides like a beast hungry for vengeance. But you held yourself back, your jaw clenched tight as you glared at her from across the room.

Amastacia’s eyes met yours, a flicker of annoyance passing through them before she composed herself into an icy mask of indifference. With a nonchalant grace, she sauntered towards you, the tray in her hand rattling slightly with the plate of bread upon it.

“Breakfast?” Amastacia offered, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

You recoiled at the sound of her voice, the memories of her honeyed lies still fresh in your mind.

“I don’t want anything from you,” you spat out, your tone laced with barely contained fury.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Amastacia’s lips, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, darling, no need to be so hostile. After all, you need all the food you can get since you’re eating for two,” she said, settling the tray down with a clank.

You eyed the bread warily, knowing better than to trust anything that came from her hands. You could hear the thinly veiled aggression in her words, the challenge she was presenting.

“Surely, you don’t expect me to eat something when the last meal we had you drugged,” you gritted.

“Surely you don’t expect me to care,” she bit back, all fake pleasantries disintegrated. “I’m not going out of my way to make you eat, even if you are Master’s latest pet.”

Your blood boiled at the mention of being called Astarion’s “pet”, the audacity of Amastacia’s words cutting deeper than any blade.

Speaking of blades, the moment you came in possession of something sharp, you were driving it through this harlot’s chest.

Beneath the anger you felt lay a flicker of something else, a strange sense of possessiveness that tugged at your heart. As much as you despised Astarion at the moment, part of you longed to be more important to him than just some means to an heir.

With a forced calmness, you pushed aside the bread, refusing to let her see how much her words truly stung.

“I am not anyone’s pet,” you said through your teeth, your fist clenched at your sides.

Amastacia’s laughter rang through the room, sharp and mocking.

“Oh, sweetling, you are far too naive if you think he thinks otherwise. You’re nothing more than a momentary nuisance,” she taunted, her eyes gleaming with malice.

A surge of defiance surged through you, igniting a fire within. You stood taller, meeting her gaze head on with a hardened glare.

“Maybe he doesn’t, but you’re no better. Nothing but another one of Astarion’s slaves,” you retorted, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

The air crackled with tension, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy between the two of you. As Amastacia’s smile faltered ever so slightly, you knew you found the chink in her armor.

Astarion.

Amastacia’s broken smile quickly transformed into a sneer, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. The mention of Astarion’s name had hit a nerve, and you could sense the shift in her demeanor as she struggled to regain control of the situation.

But you refused to back down, emboldened by the realization that you held power over her at this moment.

“You think you know him so well, don’t you?” Amastacia’s voice was laced with venom as she took a step closer, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “But you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the intensity in her gaze, but you stood your ground, unwavering in your defiance.

“I may not know everything about him, but I know enough to see through your facade,” you shot back, your tone challenging.

Amastacia crumbled before your eyes, revealing a glimpse of the seething rage and possessiveness that lay beneath. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that sent fear through your veins.

“You know nothing,” she hissed, her voice barely more than a whisper but filled with a deadly promise.

In that moment, the room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the air heavy with tension thick enough to suffocate. You could feel the weight of her fury pressing down on you, starkly contrasting the affectionate gaze she started this whole series of unfortunate events with.

“Maybe not,” you conceded, trying to swallow back the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “but I know unrequited love when I see it.”

Amastacia’s eyes widened at your words, a mixture of shock and fury crossing her features. The room seemed to vibrate with her suppressed emotions, the air crackling with the intensity of her anger. In a sudden movement, she lunged towards you, her hands clawing at the air as if trying to grasp hold of something intangible. You barely had time to react before she was upon you, her nails digging into your skin as she snarled incoherently.

Pain flared through your body, sharp and biting as Amastacia was overcome with a primal rage that seemed to consume her from within. It was as if a beast had been unleashed, all semblance of control slipping away in the heat of the moment.

You fought back as best you could, adrenaline fueling your movements as you tried to push her away. But her strength was surprising, her grip unyielding as she continued to claw and snarl, her face contorted with a savagery that chilled you to the core.

Just when it seemed like Amastacia’s onslaught would never end, the door burst open with a resounding crash. Astarion stood in the threshold, his crimson eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that matched the flames of Amastacia’s fury. His presence was like a tempest, commanding attention and respect as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.

Without a word, Astarion moved swiftly towards you, his movements fluid and graceful like a predator closing in on its prey. In one swift motion, he ripped Amastacia off of you, his strength overpowering hers effortlessly. She snarled and hissed, struggling against his hold, but he held her firmly in place with an iron grip.

“Enough,” Astarion barked, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. The force of his command seemed to quell the storm of emotions swirling around you, bringing a moment of calm amidst the chaos.

Amastacia glared at Astarion for a split second of undisguised hatred, her chest heaving with anger. Astarion’s glare deepened, leaving no room for argument.

“Leave,” he spit, his tone deadly.

For a moment, it seemed as though Amastacia would defy him, her aggression sparking like embers in her eyes. Yet then, with a venomous glare in your direction, she wrenched herself free from Astarion’s grasp and stormed out of the room, her rage echoing in the emptiness left behind.

As the door swung shut behind her, a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant echoes of Amastacia’s footsteps fading into the night. Astarion turned to face you, his expression growing more exasperated than angry.

“What did you do to make her so upset?” Astarion sighed, his frustration palpable as he looked upon the aftermath of your scuffle. His gaze fell upon you, accusatory and questioning at the same time.

In response to Astarion’s question, you felt a surge of indignation rise within you. He quite literally had to pick her up like a rabid animal and he’s assuming you were the one in the wrong?

“I did absolutely nothing,” you seethed. “Maybe you should be more careful with who you ‘employ’ from now on.”

Astarion regarded you with a mixture of surprise and skepticism, his eyes probing yours for any sign of deceit. After a moment of tense silence, he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his silvery hair, seemingly lost in thought.

“I admit, I may have underestimated her propensity towards violence,” he relented.

“Underestimated?” you laughed dryly, holding out the deep claw marks on your arms. “She would have killed me! Might I remind you that if I die, your precious heir dies too?”

Astarion’s expression darkened at the reminder of the stakes involved, his features hardening with resolve. With a curt nod, he took your arm in his hand, looking over the scratches. You winced at the stinging pain, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. His cold fingers traced the lines of blood, his expression becoming softer with each passing moment.

As he observed, you found yourself drawn to his presence once again, the way his fingers soothed the pain sending goosebumps across your skin. You tried to ignore the way your heartbeat began to flutter, the undeniable pull you felt towards the pale elf ramping up again.

Astarion’s gaze lifted from your arms to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

“Forgive me,” Astarion murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Moving faster than you could realize, he brought your arms to his lips, licking a long stripe along the fresh cut. His eyes never left yours, the sensation of his tongue grazing your skin sent heat through your chest. A mixture of fear and an unsettling thrill coursed through you as you looked on.

As he finished cleaning the wounds, you could feel the tension between you heating in the air. Astarion’s gaze held a hunger that you weren’t quite ready to unpack, afraid of what his gentle touches meant. With a sudden intensity, he leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours.

“You should never have been put in danger. I won’t allow such things again,” he whispered.

His promise hung in the air, low and sure. You were caught in a trance, unable to tear your gaze away from his hypnotic eyes. In that moment, you knew your life had become completely intertwined with the vampire, bound by an unspoken connection that defied logic.

“Now come,” Astarion said simply, straightening and dropping your arm. Gone was the intensity of his gaze, your mind reeling to catch up with his mood changes.

Did the pregnancy hormones seep into the air and affect him as well?

“We need to go see our in-house healer. Evelyn informs me that you haven’t been able to eat.“

You followed Astarion out of the room numbly, still trying to catch up from the intimate moment you had just shared. The tension lingered between you, a potent mix of fear, desire, and uncertainty swirling in the air. As you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips against your skin, the memory burning hot in your mind.

When you reached what must have been the healer’s chambers, Evelyn was already there. Your smile grew wide at the sight of her, the stress of the day already seeming to melt away.

“You must know how to do everything, Evelyn,” you laughed, looking around at her healer’s office.

The space seemed to be a sanctuary within the cold stone walls of the mansion. Soft, flickering candles cast a warm glow, illuminating shelves lined with jars of herbs and vials of potions. The air was thick with the earthy scent of dried thyme, instantly calming your racing heart.

Evelyn cast a weary glance at Astarion before looking at you. Her eyes immediately flitted to the deep scratches on your arm, her breath gasping sharply.

“Oh, sweetling, whatever happened?” she cried, rushing over to look over your injury. She glared at Astarion, no fear in her eyes. “Did you do this to her? I swear to every god I can name, if you did,” she threatened.

Your jaw dropped in surprise, completely shocked with how brazenly the older spawn was speaking to the pale elf.

Astarion only chuckled softly at Evelyn’s stinging words, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Now, now, dear Evelyn, there’s no need for such hostility. I assure you, I had nothing to do with her little mishap. Ask her yourself.” He waved his hand dismissively, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Nothing, hm? You should take better care of her,” the woman narrowed her eyes skeptically at him before turning her attention back to you. With gentle hands, she began tending to your wound, applying a salve that soothed the pain instantly.

“Might I remind the Master, she is growing your child,” she continued, chiding Astarion as if he were a babe.

You watched the exchange between Evelyn and Astarion with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. It was clear that despite his confident mask, Astarion held a healthy respect for the old spawn in front of you. As Evelyn continued to scold him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude that there was someone in this building who seemed brave enough to talk to Astarion like he wasn’t a god.

The pale elf leaned casually against a nearby table, his eyes never leaving you with an odd sense of concern. The tension that had filled your life earlier had seemed to dissipate, replaced now with comfortable small talk.

“You wound me with your accusations,” Astarion teased, a playful glint in his eye. “I would never harm our little one… or its vessel,” he added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back, despite the obvious disrespect in his tease. It was so interesting to see the man act this way. It was as if he had been replaced by an entirely different person, a doppelgänger that wasn’t so needlessly dark and depraved.

Perhaps Evelyn just had this effect on everyone.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at Astarion’s dramatics but couldn’t hide the spark of affection in her gaze. She turned back to you, finishing up the treatment on your arm with practiced ease.

“You’ll be as right as rain in no time, my dear,” she reassured you, patting your hand gently. “But do take it easy. For your sake and the baby’s.”

“Of course,” you nodded gratefully.

“Speaking of,” the woman directed her attention at Astarion, “I believe I know why she is having trouble keeping food down.”

“Oh?” Astarion prodded, his face growing serious. Based on his reaction, you wondered if it was something they had talked about before. You felt your chest flutter at the thought of the two of them being concerned about something so mundane.

“I believe that when an Ascended Vampire conceives a baby, the pregnant person has to consume vampire blood for the baby to grow,” Evelyn began, her voice lacking a sense of humor. She paced between the two of you, throwing her hands up as she spoke.

“It’s an exceedingly rare occurrence, mind you,” she continued, her brow furrowed in concentration. “But I was able to find it documented in a few books I’ve studied. The blood of an Ascended carries with it a unique quality that is essential for sustaining life. For parent and child.”

A hush fell over the room as her words lingered in the air like rotting meat. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach upturn at the gravity of her revelation.

“I have to drink his blood?“ you asked quietly, feeling positively ill.

Astarion threw you a glance, seeming all too aware of your discomfort in the situation. “For the baby,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering. You could see the concern in his eyes, his feelings seeming genuine for once.

Evelyn nodded solemnly, her expression grave. “I understand this is probably too much to ask of you,” she said, her tone gentle. “But it is the only way to ensure the child’s survival. And your own.”

As she made her way towards the door, Evelyn paused, turning back to look at you both. “I have to go about my rounds now,” she said, her voice tinged with pity. “I will leave the two of you to discuss this further.”

Alone in the dimly lit room, the reality of the situation sank in. The thought of consuming blood, fresh blood, turned your stomach. The image of it swirling your mind like a dark, viscous liquid.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion offered quietly, taking a few steps towards you. “I realize that the last few days have probably been a lot for you to handle. Even without adding this on top of it all.”

Astarion reached out a hand, his fingers hovering just inches from your arm as if unsure of whether or not it would be welcomed. His words held a weight to them, a sincerity that caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth in the cool room, the shadows dancing around you both.

“Drinking blood… It’s not something I ever imagined myself doing,” you admitted softly. The very idea seemed monstrous, unnatural. Yet, there was an undeniable pull in Astarion’s eyes, a depth of understanding that made you question your own reservations.

“I think I would be more worried if you had,” the pale elf chuckled.

He let out a soft sigh, his gaze meeting yours with a matching uncertainty. “I never imagined I would be in this position either,’ he confessed. “But it must be done. I won’t risk your-… I won’t risk the baby.”

“I don’t even have fangs,” you replied numbly, ignoring the pause in his sentence.

Astarion broke out in a grin, unable to stifle a laugh. “It’s a slight impediment, I suppose,” he teased, the tension in the room easing just a bit. “I am more than willing to lend you mine.”

He held his hand to his mouth, biting into the skin softly. You couldn't help a nervous giggle, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. You felt a strange mix of revulsion and gratitude as you watched Astarion pierce his hand.

He must have sensed your mixed emotions, his eyes soft as he raised his bleeding hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, the fear of actually drinking his blood still coursing through your veins. You looked up into his eyes, trying to borrow some of his ever present confidence.

You took a deep breath and slowly reached out to touch the trickle of blood that had formed on his skin. His fingers trembled slightly, exposing his own apprehension in the situation. He gently wrapped his other hand around yours to steady it, his touch sending a warm surge of reassurance.

You would have to unpack his newest affectionate demeanor when you weren’t face to face with his blood.

As you hesitantly brought your lips to his hand, Astarion’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see a flash of desire. The moment felt vulnerable, the vampire offering a part of himself to you.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to trust him, just this once, taking a small sip of the blood from his hand.

The flavor zinged across your tongue like electricity, completely different from the metallic and putrid taste you expected. Instead, it was smooth and rich, like the finest wine you had ever tasted. It flowers through your veins, alighting your nerves and filling you with a sense of power and strength. It was exhilarating and vaguely reminded you of how it felt to have the pale elf’s aphrodisiac bite.

Astarion watched you intently, his lips parted ever so slightly and his eyes filled with satisfaction. You pulled away, savoring the taste on your lips and the warmth that spread through your veins. You couldn’t help but look into Astarion’s eyes, seeing the matching spark reflected in them.

For a moment, you forgot how dangerous the man in front of you was, or how volatile the situation you found yourself in. All you could focus on was the growing intensity in the air around you, Astarion’s eyes flitting to your lips.

You exhaled a shaky breath, a small tentative smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you,” you murmured softly.

Astarion nodded, his eyes still locked with yours. His hand held yours close, leaning in ever so slightly. You could see the flecks of gold amongst the ruby sea of his irises yet again, your breath catching in your throat.

Astarion’s gaze heated for a moment as he shifted forward, his breath mingling with yours. The tension between you pulsed like a living thing, wrapping around you in a heady embrace. His touch was feather light on your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he brushed his lips against yours.

The kiss was hungry, bordering on desperation. You realized you felt exactly the same, your feelings raw and exposed once your resolve had been peeled back.

You wanted him. Wanted him so badly.

Craved him like it was the air that you breathed. It may be irrational, perhaps even foolish. But you had been chasing the high you felt your first night with him despite the wall firmly placed between you.

But just as quickly as the passion ignited between you, Astarion pulled away abruptly, the fire in his eyes dimming to a cool mask of indifference. His jaw clenched, betraying the turmoil within him as he turned away, his back now to you.

You watched him in silence, feeling the weight of his absence hanging heavy in the air. It was as if there was a chasm between the two of you, wider and deeper than any physical distance could ever measure. Astarion stood motionless, his shoulders tense with an invisible burden that seemed to crush him from within.

The vulnerability you glimpsed in him just moments earlier now made your heart ache with a longing you couldn’t quite name. You reached out tentatively, your fingers hovering over his arm before hesitating. Would he push you away or pull you closer?

You pulled your arm back silently.

“Feel free to roam outside of your room from now on. Just don’t leave the grounds. I’ll find you in the evenings to feed.” Astarion broke the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Right, thank you,” you replied, uneasily matching his demeanor.

As Astarion left the room, you were left standing there, the echo of his presence still lingering like a ghost in the empty space between you. His departure felt like the closing of a door, separating you from a world where anything seemed possible.

Returning to your own chamber, you sank onto the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of him.

Were you falling in love with him?

The question echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of doubt and fear that surrounded your heart.

You traced patterns on the coverlet with trembling fingers, lost in a maze of uncertainty and hopes. Astarion was a puzzle you couldn’t solve, a riddle wrapped in enigma and shrouded in darkness. And yet, there was a hint of something in his eyes, a longing that drew you into his embrace time and time again.

The night stretched on before you like an endless tapestry, woven with threads of longing and desire. Torn between wanting him close and fearing that the whole affectionate thing was an act, you wrestled with your own emotions in the quiet solitude of your room.

You were drawn back to the washroom, craving the view of the outside world. The moon cast a silvery glow through the glass, painting everything in shades of grey and blue. As you sat, staring at the stars, you wondered if there was even a place for anything more than duty and necessity in Astarion’s life.

If there was a place for you.

Sleep finally claimed you, pulling you into a dark embrace on the cold tile floor. Even while deep in slumber, you couldn’t help but feel that you didn’t mean anything to the pale elf at all.

When you awoke to the sunlight filtering in, washing over you like a warm blanket, you immediately regretted falling asleep on the hard ground. Your mood was sour as you trudged back into the bedroom, your eyes catching on a plain paper resting on the small bedside table.

You picked it up curiously, flipping it over to see the writing. Tied to the edge was a small hairpin. The silver piece was adorned with delicate ivory carvings of intertwining vines, their leaves and flowers forming intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer as they caught the light.

It was absolutely magnificent.

As you examined the hairpin more closely, you found that the tip had been sharpened to a fine point, one that would easily draw blood with the slightest wrong movement. You felt your chest flutter, your eyes flitting back at the note attached to the gift.

All of your doubts melted away as you read the crimson cursive writing, the words giving away more than your pale elf could ever say.

“For my fangless vampire so that she’ll never again grow hungry.

Yours always,

Astarion.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Next chapter

Comment here if you would like to be tagged in chapter updates

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Tagged - @dinoace2 , @tiedyedghoulette , @n3cros1sbunny , @bloodlust-1 , @bookishpenguino , @asterordinary , @generalstephkenobi , @under-the-crescent-moon ,

[littlejuicebox]

Midnight Chimes 2 / Three years

Background: I plan for this to be a series based off the premise/epilogue from my piece "Midnight Chimes." I’ve changed the character from GN to F because… well, I’m F and I have an easier time writing from that angle. Additionally, I gave Tav a different name... I wanted to give her an identity of her own, I suppose. As a disclaimer, she is a Great Old One Warlock, and I am learning about this class as I go, so it may not exactly follow lore.

Summary: You and Astarion have met before, though you think it meant more to you than it did to him. You are an apothecary shop owner that has recently gained some mysterious Warlock powers; Astarion is, in your eyes, a rake that you wouldn’t trust as far as you can throw him. You two run into one another again after the nautiloid crash.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader Warlock.

Word Count: 1,292

-----

He’s got a blade to your neck.

A blade. To your neck.

The bastard doesn’t recognize you at all, does he?

“And you! Keep your distance. No need for this to get messy.” The pale elf warns your companion, Gale, an amiable wizard you’d pulled out of a strange portal not more than a half hour ago.

“Couldn’t agree more. But if you use that knife, I will incinerate you.” Gale responds, surprisingly calm for the situation at hand. Perhaps there’s more to the wizard than meets the eye; if you weren’t stuck with your jugular millimeters from a sharp dagger, you would’ve laughed.

Astarion is distracted by your companion, countering his warning with some asinine threat of his own.

Yes, you unfortunately know the elf's name. He’d frequented your parents’ tavern for years when you worked there as a server in your twenties, and then you two had a pleasant conversation in that same tavern – what was it, three? – three years back. He’d meandered in after being banned for years, while you were on Midwinter holiday visiting your family.

You’d thought it had been a meet-cute, but the rake never did write to your apothecary shop address, in the end. He’d had you fooled, for a moment, but your initial impressions had been correct. It was probably nothing to him. You ultimately figured Astarion had been a rake through and through, and you hadn’t been an easy lay, so he’d dismissed you and decimated your pride in the process.

Bastard.

You supposed the chance encounter had meant more to you than it had him, though you wouldn’t dare to admit you waited for a letter for far too long. Months of checking the post with a glimmer of hope in your lonely heart… how pitiful, honestly.

You feel your patron laugh in amusement… if the celestial being can laugh, or perhaps that’s just the way they translate it to you. They must think this run-in is entertaining… for all you know, they orchestrated it. Hadn’t they been the reason you felt pushed to leave your apothecary shop in the hands of your assistant and travel to Baldur’s Gate, intending to visit your parents on a whim? 

You’d never done an impromptu trip to Baldur's Gate in the all the years you’d been gone. But then you bought that blasted ring with the strange cosmic stone at the antique shop, slipped it on your pinky, and suddenly your mind was not your own. Deep in the recesses of your psyche, something else lurked. Something ancient and unfathomable… you didn’t even know if the thing had a name. And every once in a while, it would compel you to perform an action with nearly obsessive thoughts and visions.

Nothing would stop the psychic barrage apart from acting in the being's interest, not even removing the ring because... well, you couldn't. It was stuck on your pinky. And you weren’t about to maim yourself by chopping off your own finger.

Then, almost unbelievably, you had been kidnapped, infected with a parasite and placed in the path of the insufferable rake, yet again. And now this arrogant elf has a blade pressed to your “darling” neck.

The beautiful bastard even has the gall to wear a knock off of the cologne sample that had been attached to your business card all those years ago. Bergamot, rosemary… and is that brandy?

You had to admit it was a close duplication, but not quite as good as yours. You laugh at the ludicrousness of it all, and the elf’s attention jerks back to you. You must be crazy to be laughing in the face of such a threat… but perhaps you are crazy, after all.

“Don’t recognize me, Astarion? Can’t say I’m surprised.” 

Astarion’s eyes narrow at you. You can see him trying to place your face, scanning it for something familiar, even though the dagger is still pressed flush against your jugular.

“You may not remember me, but I remember you,” You start, and the celestial being in your mind chuckles again, flashing a memory from three years back, when you’d said the exact same thing to this elf in your parents’ tavern. Gods, were you cursed to remember him for all eternity while the rake forgot you after every run in?

“My name is Demi. Demitria?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The cold sharpness of the dagger against your neck is starting to make you nervous.

“We met at my parents’ tavern in Baldur's Gate? The Drunken Dragon?”

Astarion is still staring at you suspiciously, tightly gripping the dagger as he searches his memories for any sign of you. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. Gods damn this elf! He didn’t remember you one bit and you’d thought of him more than you’d ever admit to anyone.

Suddenly a sharp sensation ripples through your mind, connecting you to the pale elf’s. At first you think this is a strange trick from your patron, but then you realize it’s something caused by the parasite. You feel its sickening wriggles behind your skull.

It’s the same memory flashing through two perspectives; the night you two met. You see Astarion enter and feel your wary judgment of him, he sees you in a corner booth and you pick up on something predatory about his nature – damn rake – as he sits next to you. You are annoyed by him; he is entertained and intrigued by you.

The conversation ensues and both of you are thoroughly enjoying yourselves, until the bell tower chimes and then – fear, gut-wrenching, all-consuming fear in Astarion’s mind. You two say your goodbyes and then he’s bursting out the door, down the alley, running, panicking, searching for something, someone–

“Agh what the hells!” The silver-haired rake shouts, dropping his dagger and clutching his head in his hands. 

You take the opportunity to roll away and stand up on your own two feet. You get a sense that your patron is protecting you from some of the parasite’s abilities, since you aren’t wriggling in pain on the ground like Astarion… it seems they don’t like another alien entity vying for control of your mind. Gale is swiftly by your side, hands filling with colorful waves of magical energy; you snatch the dagger from the earth. 

When the vision is over, Astarion is blinking up at you. He glosses over your face one more time and then you see it… recognition. The man quickly scrambles to his feet, now unarmed, and splays his hands wide in a signal of truce.

“My sincerest apologies, Demetria. I’m not good with faces; I meet a lot of people, darling, and well, many of you humans look quite similar. I trust we can put this entire misunderstanding behind us?” The silver-haired elf murmurs, flashing you his signature, alluring smile. It must work on nearly everyone.

The gall. The absolute fucking gall.

You want to say no, to laugh in his face; part of you considers stabbing him, just for kicks. But then there is your patron, once again, compelling you to say yes. You have the inexplicable feeling that if you don’t, something terrible will happen to your parents. Why does the entity always make you feel like something will happen to them if you don’t follow these ridiculous urges? What would happen if you didn’t? Are you willing to risk it?

Your jaw locks up as you try to fight back the words, you look to Gale hoping the wizard will say no on your behalf.

“I will leave the matter of this decision to you, Demetria. You were the one with the blade to your neck.” The human man responds with a kindly, relaxed air. How unbothered can one person be, in the face of a parasite and a stab-happy rogue?

Damn the geniality of this wizard. 

“Fine,” You manage to choke out, and you feel the cosmic entity’s hold on your psyche relax. You spin the blade in your hand and return it to its owner, pressing the hilt into his outstretched palm. “But anymore of your bullshit, Astarion, and both Gale and I will blast you into the hells.” 

Astarion grins, all vulpine and pomp, before wrapping his hand around the dagger. He gives the weapon a few spins between his fingers before sheathing the blade on his thigh, “Cross my heart, I’ll behave myself. Seems we have a mutual interest of returning to Baldur’s Gate, and we will need all the allies we can get, after all.” 

“Yes… seems that way.” You agree reluctantly, before sighing and turning to continue your journey along the beach. You and Gale had been scrounging up supplies before you two were rudely interrupted by the rake. 

Fate is a cruel, cruel mistress. And you’re beginning to believe your patron might be even crueler. 

[astarionfixation]

Am I Fu**ing Insane!?! MASTERPOST

Chapter 1: *Would it really matter if it was a bite or a kiss?* R: Mature

Chapter 2: +As if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over+ R: Mature

Chapter 3: *is she fu**ing…?!?!?* R: Very Explicit

Chapter 4: *F*ck Eternity if Immortality Looks Like Me* R: Explicit CW Blood, Gore

Chapter 5: *Who said it's no fun to play with your food?* R: Explicit CW Vague Mention of Sex Work / Trafficking

Chapter 6: "It won’t hurt but a moment, darling" R: Explicit CW PTSD, Disassociation, Panic Attacks, Blood

Chapter 7: *I have all the time in the world, darling* R: Explicit CW Vague Mention of past Trauma

Chapter 8: "Show me, and I’ll follow you" R: Mature CW: mentions of parental abuse, childhood abuse, forced prostitution, implied rape

Chapter 9: “Would you like my tongue first, or my fingers, darling?” R: EXPLICIT for Sex, Fingering, Cunnilingus CW: Vague mentions of past sexual abuse, PTSD

Chapter 10: *There's no need to hold back anymore* R: EXPLICIT for Sex, Fellatio, PIV CW: vague mentions of past sexual trauma, PTSD flashbacks

Chapter 11: +I am not a glass doll+ R:EXPLICIT ROUGH SEX (intercourse PIV)

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

Status: Ongoing

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/137677126

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

Teaser:

Astarion swallows again, involuntarily, his lips slightly parted mimicking hers and his mouth now watering the closer he gets to her. As the tip of his nose brushes lightly against her lobe a deep moan escapes her lips, carrying his name again to his ears.

“Astarion”

Her deceptively warm fingers have somewhat found a way to sneak up on him as they now tickle the back of his neck, almost as if she was inviting his mouth down to her and *Would it really matter if it was a bite or a kiss?*

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Gortash: Stop doing that.

Tav: Stop doing what?

Gortash: Saying things that make me want to kiss the hells out of you.

[215-luv]

There was never a time where you felt neglected in the presence of Suna Rintaro. Eversince you started dating, it was always his priority to make sure you’re showered with love and comfort. He wanted to give you the world, he wanted to let you know you deserve more than what you have on your hands.

And everyday, not a single second passing by, he lets you know that by the way he handles you with so much fondness and love.

The fire sets ablaze across the living room. The warmth radiating from it withers away the coldness of the night. The wind blew across the starry night skies. And the moon shone bright as it watches over the world.

Your hands remain cold, though, they were wrapped over a pair of much larger ones. Your body rests against the chest of your boyfriend—who made sure you were draped in warmth as a blanket was over your bodies. The two of you were basked upon comfort, sitting on the floor right infront of the fireplace.

You couldn't help but stare at the fire glistening right before your eyes. The waves of which it moves over at the end its' tips made you feel at ease, lulling you further into interest as you continue to blink at the sight.

"Are you okay?" Suna asks from behind you, releasing a hand from yours as he tucks a strand of your hair over your ear.

"Mhm." You hummed silently, feeling your lids slightly dropping down as sleep was starting to dominate your body system. Suna couldn't help but chuckle at your state.

"Tired?" He murmurs, resting a hand on the back of your neck as he kisses the crown of your head.

You were yet to respond as his arms were already tucked under your knees, while the other on your back, carrying you bridal style. His hold on you was gentle, easy, and caring—as if he's handling something fragile on his arms. He carries you to your shared bedroom with care, making sure to steady his actions so he doesn't accidentally hit you in some places. His footsteps were slow and steady, not giving a single fuck if five minutes had passed and you remained in his arms. It was quite a while, but Suna did not care. He handled you perfectly.

He pushes the door open with his foot, leading to the soft mattress as he gently and carefully places you down, guiding you in a much comfortable position while he drapes the fluffy blanket over to your figure. He tucks your chin with the cloth, smiling in content when he's met with the view of your sleepy eyes.

"Pretty girl." He grins, slightly bending down to land a soft kiss on your forehead. "Sleep tight, princess. I'll clean up the living room first, okay?"

You nodded in understanding, feeling a little drowsy as you could no longer control the way your eyes lids were forcing its' way down to shut close. You softly murmured under your breath. "Be quick please."

Suna chuckles. "I will, don't worry. Just lay there pretty and sleep, alright?"

"M'kay."

"Good girl."

[enalis]

Astarion x M!Tav

" Amidst the shadow cursed lands, Tav struggles with unpleasant memories the place brings up for him. One late evening at camp, Astarion is trying to distract him from it the only way he knows - but as it seems to happen, when it comes to Tav - his simple plan falls apart, once again. "

Set before the party makes it to Moonrise Towers.

[alpaca-clouds]

My December Challenges Masterlist

Alright, tomorrow the last month of the year begins and with it there come a lot of fanfiction writing challenges. This is going to be my masterpost, in the hope that I will manage to update this every day and not forget about it halfway through.

I am very hungry right now - so I am going to write for three challenges. My own Fluffcember Challenge with 31 stories for a variety fandoms, @amonthofwhump's Winter Whumperland Chalenge with 12 Stories focusing on Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 and @justporo's BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge with 12 stories focusing each on different characters from BG3.

Fluffcember will update daily (unless I am somehow prevented from updating). Winter Whumperland between the 1st and 23rd on the uneven days, BG3 Holidays between the 2nd and the 24th on the even days.

I obviously will also post about the stories when they update.

Masterlist under the cut!

Day 01

Fluffcember: Stardust Children Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow | Mina & Soma | 1100 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Shadow Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion-centric | Astarion/m!Tav | 2300 Words

Day 02

Fluffcember: An Unperfect Gift Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves | Ed & Kira & Holga | 1000 Words

BG Winter Holiday Challenge: The Best View In The City Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/m!Tav | 2000 Words

Day 03

Fluffcember: Buona Notte SK8 THE INFINITY | Reki/Langa | 500 Words Winter Whumperland: His Punishment Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion-centric | 2000 Words

Day 04

Fluffcember: Russian Winters Yuuri!! On Ice | Victor/Yuuri | 1100 Words BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge: Memories of Childhood Baldur's Gate 3 | Karlach/Shadowheart/Wyll | 1000 Words

Day 05

Fluffcember: The Meaning of Family Castlevania: Nocturne | Richter & Maria & Tera | 1500 Words Winter Whumperland: His Past Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion & Original Female Charater | 2000 Words

Day 06

Fluffcember: Winter Days Baldur's Gate 3 | Halsin & Scratch | 1200 Words BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge: Reflections in the Moonlight Baldur's Gate 3 | Aylin/Isobel | 1100 Words

Day 07

Fluffcember: Caffeine Addiction Digimon Tamers | Yamaki/Reika | 1000 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Guilt Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/Original Female Character | 2100 Words

Day 08

Fluffcember: A First Time For Everything Castlevania | Trevor & Adopted Kids | 1300 Words

BG Winter Holiday Challenge: Children's Laughter Baldur's Gate 3 | Halsin & Tiefling Orphans | 1000 Words

Day 09

Fluffcember: On Thin Ice Baldur's Gate 3 | Karlach/Shadowheart/Wyll | 1100 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Responsibility Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/m!Tav | 2100 Words

Day 10

Fluffcember: Like Family Ojamajo Doremi | Majo Rika & Doremi | 1600 Words

BG Winter Holiday Challenge: Cheesy Noodles Baldur's Gate 3 | Tav & Enver Gortash | 3200 Words

Day 11

Fluffcember: Cold Nights Blue Eye Samurai | Ringo & Taigen | 1000 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Ghosts Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/m!Tav | 2000 Words

Day 12

Fluffcember: Sweet Treats Castlevania | Hector & Striga | 1600 Words

BG Winter Holiday Challenge: Midwinter Princess Baldur's Gate 3 | Karlach/Wyll | 1100 Words

Day 13

Fluffcember: A Promise of Change Castlevania: Nocturne | Olrox/Dead Lover | 1000 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Wounds Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/m!Tav | 2200 Words

Day 14

Fluffcember: The Scent of the Forest Arcane | Jayce/Viktor | 1100 Words

BG Winter Holiday Challenge: Sparkling Wine and Honeyed Berries Baldur's Gate 3 | Karlach/Shadowheart | 1200 Words

Day 15

Fluffcember: Home Again Baldur's Gate 3 | Alfira/Lakrissa | 1200 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Fault Baldur's Gate 3 | Cazador/Astarion | CW: Noncon | 2500 Words

Day 16

Fluffcember: The Meaning of Christmas Stray Gods: The Roleplaying Musical | Grace/Persephone | 1100 Words

BG Winter Holiday Challenge: Simril Nights Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/m!Tav | Tav & OCs | ~4000 Words

Day 17

Fluffcember: Child's Play Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion & Tiefling Orphans | 2100 Words

Winter Whumperland: His Leash Baldur's Gate 3 | Incubi/Astarion | CW: Noncon | 4000 Words

Day 18

Fluffcember | BG3 Winter Holidays

Day 19

Fluffcember | Winter Whumperland

Day 20

Fluffcember | BG3 Winter Holidays

Day 21

Fluffcember | Winter Whumperland

Day 22

Fluffcember | BG3 Winter Holidays

Day 23

Fluffcember | Winter Whumperland

Day 24

Fluffcember | BG3 Winter Holidays

Day 25

Fluffcember

Day 26

Fluffcember

Day 27

Fluffcember

Day 28

Fluffcember

Day 29

Fluffcember

Day 30

Fluffcember

Day 31

Fluffcember

[lovelybluebirdie]

Offering rides

Astarion x Reader

Summary: You're not feeling well while hiking through the Mountain Pass, so Astarion provides unexpected help.

AO3

The sun was shining and a mild breeze blew on this crisp morning, as you and your companions made your way through the steep hills of the Mountain Pass. You were heading towards the Githyanki Creche Lae’zel had insisted on visiting first after you had left the grove a few days ago.

Shadowheart, Gale, Lae’zel and the rest of your crew were leading on in the distance, while you and Astarion had fallen back behind. It was unusual that you were the last to follow, since you were mostly leading the group on your journey, but today you weren’t feeling quite well.

You suppressed a silent moan as you felt another cramp lashing through your lower abdomen. The timing couldn’t have been any worse this month, you thought and pushed your hand on the source of the hurting. You would need to change your cloth soon.

“Are you in pain?” Astarion turned around while you continued to walk at a slow pace following the others. He furrowed his brow. “Hold on… you’re bleeding.”

His assumption hit you by surprise.

“How can you tell?”

“Well, I can smell it,” he explained in the most natural manner.

Of course he could. You sighed.

“Do you need a healing potion?” Astarion was already reaching for his pouch.

“Well, it’s not that kind of bleeding, if you must know. I’m fine, really. Let’s focus on this tremendous hike in front of us.”

“Oh – I see,” he replied and turned to face the mountain road again.

You continued your walk in silence for a few more metres, before he came to an abrupt stop, making you almost bump right into him.

“What’s the matter?” you asked a little startled, as another period cramp hit your lower belly, turning your face into a grimace. They were especially ruthless this cycle.

Astarion clicked his tongue before he spoke and avoided looking at you directly. Instead, he offered you his back, signalling you to hold onto his shoulders.

“Hop on then.”

The sight made you giggle.

“Wait – are you serious?”

You two had been particularly close since the party you had thrown at your camp after saving the Tieflings, but this was… something new. He had been the last of your companions you would have guessed to offer you a piggyback ride.

“Urgh, do I really need to repeat myself? We need you strong today, so get on now.” He dramatically rolled his eyes, which turned the smile on your lips even bigger.

“Just so we’re clear, you’re offering to carry me to the top of these mountains?”

“I suppose I do. Are you coming then?”

The hike itself had been exhausting already, carrying the weight of another person would surely add to his discomfort. And still… He seemed sincere.

“I didn’t take you for the altruistic sort.” You chuckled as you made a step forward, readying yourself to climb on his back.

“Good, because I am not. As I said, we need you to be at your best when we enter a place full of bloodthirsty Githyanki. So, on you go.”

With a smooth hop, you landed on his back and crossed your hands on his chest. He lifted your legs with his arms and grunted.

“Well, at least you’re not that heavy.”

You smiled again as you let your head rest against his, inhaling his familiar scent.

The feeling of his cold body against yours brought a faint shiver to your belly. Being this close to him wasn’t unusual these days, but his touch still had an undeniable effect on you.

“It’s quite comfy, I must say” you snickered, before your voice stopped as another cramp violently hit you.

“You alright?” You couldn’t tell for sure, but Astarion sounded a little worried.

“I am. The cramps just get quite annoying sometimes.” You exhaled deeply and sunk your chin on his shoulder.

“Well then… Try to rest. I hope you’re feeling better soon. Since we’re about to face those Githyanki, I mean.” Astarion quickly shifted back to his sassy mood.

You walked in silence for a while. Being carried by him felt indeed rather nice, and having not to hike the hills yourself helped with the pain. You sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Astarion. This is unexpectedly kind.”

You could feel his soft curls caressing your cheekbone, as he turned his face again to speak to you.

“Well, I- '' Before Astarion could complete his sentence, you were interrupted by Shadowheart, who was walking now only a few metres in front of you. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she spotted you on Astarion’s back.

“Astarion, I thought you said you weren’t offering any rides?” She sounded amused. 

“Well, it seems to depend on the circumstances. And the person I’m carrying, I suppose.” Astarion responded in his usual cheeky tone, the last part of his sentences only so loud for you to hear.

You lifted your hand to wave at Shadowheart and turned to Astarion. “Careful, or the others might get the wrong idea about you, being this nice for a change,” you whispered in his ear.

“Oh, I sense you prefer to walk the rest?” You could literally hear his eyes roll again as he spoke.

“Well, on second thought… I think I’m good, thank you,” you replied jokingly and let your head rest back on his shoulder, wrapping your hands around him a little tighter and enjoying the feeling of him close to you.

Masterlist

[lynnlovesthestars]

Lesson one

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader. Genre: fluff. Warning: Mention of Cazador- and that itself it's a warning. Insecurities. Synopsis: Astarion needs a reminder that you don't want anything back. WC: 1.2k AN: You can thank my delulu brain at night for this one, i simply dreamt of it a few weeks ago, n just found the guts to post it. Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird / Masterpost / Kofi / Patreon

His lips lingered on your neck, hovering over the punctures as his hands still cradled you to him.

He let out a pleased hum before he kissed the mark, quickly stealing the stray droplets of blood with his lips.

You noticed right away how his body stiffened once he had laid you down. His hand cupped your cheek as you were quickly pulled to his lips. Despite his clear discomfort he pushed himself on top of you, his hips pressing against yours as you gently pushed him away.

“Astarion, stop” You murmured as he stared at you, his eyes full of confusion and something you couldn't quite grasp, but lacking the usual light they kept. His hands were holding the hem of his blouse, ready to be tossed away. He was doing it again.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked with furrowed brows, as he let go of the cloth.

“Yes, what are you doing?” You asked softly as you sat up, gently moving him with you until he was on his knees next to you.

“I'm clearly repaying you for your kindness” He smiled coy as he crawled few steps closer, one of his fangs peaking our from his lips while his dark eyes tried so hard to paint a different picture from his body. The confidence of his movements was shadowed by the uncertainty pooled in the crimson of his eyes.

You placed a hand on his cheek, softly grazing over his peachy skin. “Astarion, this is not a transaction” You shook your head as you admonished him kindly, your hand lingering on his cheek, focusing on the tense lines of his face, that begged to be eased.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confusion written all over his face, either for your physical response or your logic. Regardless it was foreign to him, everything was a give and take and he had just been given sustenance, it was logical he had to repay you.

“You don't need to repay me for anything” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek. “I'm doing it because I want to do it” You explained, not missing on his confusion.

He hesitated, it was too good to be true. There was something he HAD to give back, either with his blood or his body. Cazador had demanded always something. “I don't believe you, everyone always wants something back.” He crosses his arms and sat back. “No one is kind for free” In a way his harshness was like a slap to you, implying you wanted something back was by far unlike you, but then you remembered. You remembered what it when through and you understood if only briefly and theoretically.

“I never wanted anything back, Astarion.” You explained as he evaluated your words, you just gave him time to let them sink in, all the times he had bedded you, they were not because he had to do it, or because you expected him to fuck you as a payment, but because you wanted to.

“So what am I supposed to do, just get up and leave?” He raised an eyebrow skeptic, despite understanding he still was not completely sold on the idea of taking without giving up something.

“If that's what you want yes” It was astonishing to him how you didn’t hesitate, as if this was the norm, even though Astarion knew. He knew how the world spun and if there was something about it that he grasped effortlessly, was that nothing was free and no one was so selfless. Yet he wanted to believe you, even if just for a second.

“I-” He hesitated. He swore that if he still was alive, his chest would be thumping like crazy in that moment. “Want to give you something back” He lowered his eyes with a sigh. “I don't have much to offer besides sex though” He explained, a wave of nausea hitting him harshly. The mere thought was gagging him as he couldn't help but revive one of the countless nights he was forced to bed someone to survive. How he was devaluated to a simple piece of meat, and yet you saw him as much more than just his cock.

“One: you are much more than sex” You raised one finger up, admonishingly. “Two: if you truly want to do something, then come and lay next to me” Your voice softened, just like your body as you offered a soft smile and patted the softness of your bedroll eagerly.

“What?” It was Astarion only reply.

“Come and lay with me, here, under the duvet, in my arms” You spelled out almost purring like a cat at the idea of cuddles. True that Astarion had cold skin, but it wasn't any less enjoyable, and that seemed like enough of a repayment for you.

“You are kidding right? You want to cuddle” He chuckled holding his stomach, half in disbelief as the previous uncertainty dissolved to give space at the new emotion.

“Yes” You nodded. “I want to hold you and care for you” You scooted to the side and opened your arms for him.

“How's that my way of reciprocating the favour?” He raised an eyebrow, how could something so mere even compare to giving up your blood to feed a vampire.

“You are allowing me to love you” You said simply, urging him to join you with a hand gesture.

“Love?” He asked taken aback.

“The point is” You ignored his question casually. “I’m not giving you blood for sex, I'm doing it cause I know you need it” You gestured for him to come closer again. “and I don't want anything back” You closed your eyes and breathed out. “as a matter of fact, if you don't wanna cuddle you just have to say it and you can leave”

“No, no” He sat up, rejecting the idea of leaving, deep down he enjoyed your company even though most of the times it seemed as if he had to put a mask on, but you knew why it was like that, didn’t you? “Don't get me wrong, I'm confused, but I don't even know how to do it.. what it feels like” He admitted as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Then come here”. You simply said as you lifted the blanket to your legs and invited him in the warmth. “And let me show you, small spoon or big spoon?” You asked casually as he climbed next to you, unsure how to position himself as you draped him with the blanket as well.

“Why does it even matter? I usually prefer using a bigger spoon if I have to pick, though I’m a vampire, why would it matter how I eat soup?” He rolled his eyes as he tried his best to ignore the blush that surfaced on his cheeks once you wrapped your arms around him and dragged him to lay. You couldn’t help the giggle at his sudden naivety as you guided his head on your chest as if to invite him to wrap closer with you.

“This is..” Astarion thought for a moment as he allowed you to handle him while your warmth enveloped him. ‘..nice” He hums as he snuggled closer and closed his eyes.

“I’m glad” You murmured before placing a kiss to his temple and tangling your legs together, he didn’t resist to it, he simply molded with you as you rested together.

The weight of the day slowly sunk on the two of you, and lulled by the cicadas, you were asleep before you could say anything else.

[iblocevgum]

ੈ✩ ☀️ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[paganwitchisis]

Unawanted Advances

Rated: E (Explicit)

Word Count: 4,763

Pairing AFAB Female Tav X Spawn! Astarion

Warning - non-consensual groping, groping, smut, a quarter of this piece is smut, murder of an npc, PiV smut, female oral sex, Breeding kink (no kids).

Summary-Set after Cazador was defeated in Act 3. Astarion was in the party walking the streets of Baldur’s Gate when he was groped and propositioned by a stranger. This leads to expected reactions from himself and the group. What becomes of him and the situation? Read and find out! There is smut towards the end. AFAB female Tav x Spawn! Astarion. Tav is not specified for race but is a fighter, so you can imagine your Tav in the place.

AO3 link is Here

RATED 18 PLUS!

Story:

It was supposed to be an easy day, but Tav had decided as they ventured the city that they would fight a hag who was suspected of being behind the disappearance of a little girl. Astarion knew as soon as Tav heard a child was in danger, she would spring to action. Since his confession and declaration of love just a tenday ago, he had been in the party consistently so he knew he would be dragged with. Of course, Astarion secretly agreed with Tav on the importance of the mission. Since his renewal and the events at the graveyard, the couple couldn’t get enough of each other. Their escapades were a bane to their companions and friends, so when a room opened up near by to the companion room, they all agreed Astarion and Tav would get it. Of course, Astarion didn’t mind since the room was large, had a tub, and afforded them privacy.

The battle with the hag was difficult, to say the least, but Astarion and Tav worked wonderfully as a team like they always did. Tav was used to her vampire lover being in her party, as well as Karlach, however their fourth party member was always changing. Depending on who they needed at the time, it could be Wyll, Jaheira or even Shadowheart, but today it was Gale. Tav knew she would need an offensive magic user, so Gale was the obvious pick. The battle took longer than they anticipated as they took out the mushrooms around the room keeping the hag alive. This spent Gale’s spell slots, while Karlach was taking the hag’s blows and distracting her. Tav and Astarion worked on destroying the mushrooms, and Karlach got hit pretty good and was knocked off her feet. Tav and Astarion had only just finished when this happened and their full out assault took place. Thankfully, Tav and Astarion were spared from getting hurt, although they were tired by the time the hag was defeated. Karlach had a broken rib, but Tav had a regular potion of healing she gave to the red tiefling. It didn’t heal much, but it was enough for the rib to mend itself. Gale clung to his staff like a cane and the group finished the mission by mid day. As they meandered through the city to return to camp, covered in blood and completely exhausted, Tav next to Astarion, Gale and Karlach bringing up the rear, 

The group made their way through the park-like area where they fought cultists previously and were actively engaging in conversation.

“...What I am trying to say is Netherese should be shared, taught and accepted as…” Gale mused but was swiftly cut off by the pale elf.

“As if the bomb in your chest wasn’t dangerous enough. Let’s just let others have access to that kind of power…” Astarion commented dryly.

“I’ll have you know…” Gale began to reply when Tav interrupted them both. Tav turned to them both as they drew near the gates and replied.

“Boys. I get it, it is hot and we’re exhausted from the fight, but let’s not bicker, please.”

As they exited the gate, Astarion noted a scantly clad woman making their way towards them. Assuming she would pass by, Astarion moved to the side so he was closer to Tav. He didn’t think anything of her clothing choice as it was a hot day, but as she drew near, Astarion had a bad feeling.

He should probably start listening to his body, because he soon found he was right.

“Hey, handsome.” The woman addressed Astarion as she brought her hand to the crux of his legs and grabbed him possessively in his most private of places. “Why not ditch the broad, and see what else I can do with my hands…or other body parts.”

A cold sweat and chill surged through the elf, as he felt like he was reliving his two hundred years of torment. The subtle glances, the forced intimacy and the little discard for him as a person came back to him. He felt the need to run, to fight, to do something. If he had a heart beat, surely it would be beating loud enough a human could hear it, just like if he could throw up, he would.

Astarion was going through a whirlwind of different feelings and emotions as his mind was trapped in the past. It was like he felt every unwanted touch, every kiss and so much more. Astarion began to shake slightly, but before anything more could occur, Tav had grabbed the woman’s wrist, and summoning all her strength, Tav used her other hand to pommel strike the woman in the head.

“He said NO!”

He did? When did he say no?

Astarion was able to think again, albeit he was not okay once her hand was removed. Frozen in place, Astarion watched as Tav barked out orders to Karlach to help her put the woman in the empty house next to them, and for them both to keep watch and not enter. Astarion noticed the house in question was the house with the blue door that Dribbles was found in not long ago. Finally feeling he could move, Astarion felt he had to get off the streets, but they were still far from the Elfsong. Going on his own with the amount of enemies they had would be a fairly bad idea, so Astarion followed Tav inside the house, closing the door behind him.

“Fucking bitch.” Tav cursed as she made her way to the unconscious woman on the floor. Tav knelt down, and ran her arms over the woman’s so she could not fight back before turning her head to expose her throat.

“What…?” Astarion began to say, although it was obvious what Tav was trying to do. Tav was going to let him feed on her.

“The choice is yours, Star, it always is. You have the right to say yes or no whenever you wish, but know that she may have done this to others. She isn't some damn innocent we need to protect. She just sexually assaulted you and kept touching you after you said no. If you want me to ignore her, I will. Otherwise, I am all for you getting your fill. Like you would with bandits.”

Dumbstruck, Astarion had to ask.

“Wait….you’re the most lawful good like person I know. Hells, if a rabbit was in a burning house, you’d jump in to save it, but this you’re okay with?”

“What can I say? You influence me sometimes. Plus, there is nothing good about her. No good person randomly gropes and propositions someone like that.”

Astarion looked at the woman who began to stir to consciousness again. With a groan, she tried to move her arms and found she couldn’t. She was being held down by something strong, it would appear, so imagine her surprise when she looked to the side and saw the woman she made fun of earlier.

The woman looked in front of her and saw the same man she encouraged for a night of fun and began to speak out to the two.

“You’re doing what this bitch wants you to do, I get it. Get her off me and I won’t breathe a word. You still get your fun and you can escape this monster!”

“Monster?” Astarion began to laugh. He wasn’t sure why she was pleading for his help, when from what he gathered, he had somehow told her no already. Of course Astarion didn’t remember doing it, but he also wasn’t in the best state of mind.

“He is doing only what he wants to do, you fucker.” Tav was using very colorful language, something Astarion rarely heard from her mouth outside of intimacy.

“Really? He is just like me. A whore. You think I couldn’t tell? You probably do the same thing I do, fuck em, steal from them and move on to the next mark. I’m guessing you own him since it is too early for most of our profession to work yet” The woman threw out one vile misunderstanding after the next and professed them to be true. Tav was seething as she tightened her hold and yanked the woman’s head to the side.

“He is no whore, you cunt! He is…” Tav spoke but stopped when she felt his gentle touch grace her shoulder. Astarion smiled and then he finally spoke directly to the woman.

“You keep insulting the woman I love, call me a whore and think you’re going to get away with it?” Astarion laughed once more and shook his head. “She taught me I am not a whore. She taught me I can say no and helped me move on from the past, but you? I think I’ll make one of your comments correct. There is a monster in here.”

Tav was going to protest, that he was not a monster but Astarion held his finger up to ask her to wait.

“As she likes to tell me, I am no monster, but right now? I feel like being one.” and with that, Astarion opened his mouth, showed his fangs and before the woman could scream, Astarion sank his teeth into her neck. Tav had clamped a hand over the woman’s mouth in case she cried for help as her lover fed from her. Astarion took everything that was offered and scoffed when Tav released the body of the woman who collapsed lifelessly on the floor.

“I….I need to get out of here.”

“Of course. Here, though.” Tav said and offered him a rag from her pack. It was then that Astarion saw how much blood was still on his mouth.

“Thanks. I guess I am a bit wasteful with blood that isn't your own. Hells, her blood may as well been rat blood judging by the taste” Astarion gave a grimace at the thought, remembering the taste of the blood on his lips as he cleaned himself up to walk the streets once more. Astarion was doing his best to calm himself, but he felt wrong, dirty even. He just knew he needed to go back to the Elfsong.

He felt he needed a bath.

Tav led him back to the Elfsong and told the others to give them some time as Astarion bee-lined for their shared room. Astarion started himself a bath and had stripped his shirt when Tav walked in and placed a bottle of red wine on his side of the bed’s nightstand. Tav was going to give him some privacy and leave when Astarion called out.

“Wait…don’t leave.”

Tav stopped what she was doing and re-locked the door before she turned herself to face him.

“Is everything okay? I was going to let you bathe in peace…I mean, after today, and all…”

“No. Don’t go. I…I honestly want you here. I feel vulnerable, and I know you won't let anything happen“ Astarion mentioned before adding on. “I mean…if you want to help, that is. I…that bitch has me flustered.” Astarion brought one of his hands up to the back of his head and scratched at his scalp nervously.

“If you would have me here or prefer me present, I’ll always stay by your side, Star.” Tav stepped forward and took Astarion’s hand into her own so he would stop plucking at his scalp. “I’ll let you get a bath, I’ll fold our laundry not far away if that is fine. If you want anything else, just let me know.”

Astarion brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles as he acknowledged her comment with a shake of the head. Tav set up on the bed and began to fold both her and his clothing. After about ten minutes, Tav was folding the last piece of clothing when she heard a muffled whimper from the tub. Glancing to her lover, she noticed he was vigorously scrubbing himself. Tav got up and off the bed, and as she approached the tub, she noted how red and raw his skin looked, especially to his genitals, as he continued to roughly handle himself. Astarion looked upset, so Tav tenderly placed her hands over his and took the soap and rough sponge from him.

“You’re hurting yourself, honey.”

“I….I feel tainted. I feel like I need to get her touch off me. I’m…I’m just….” Astarion dropped his head further so he would look down at soapy water before Tav used two fingers to tilt his head up towards her.

“She will never touch you again. You’re safe and here with me. Just me.  Why don’t we get you out of there and get you a glass of wine?” Tav asked lovingly, but Astarion shook his head no.

“I didn’t wash my hair.”

“Is it okay if I wash your hair for you? I promise not to make weird hairstyles again” Tav said partly because she was worried he would hurt himself further, and partly because she was hoping her joke would crack a smile, which it did, even if it was a small one.

“Please.”

Astarion shifted forward so he could dunk his head under the water briefly. When he came back up, Astarion felt Tav’s fingers thread through his hair and it made him flinch a moment. He felt her retract her hands when Astarion reached out to stop her from pulling away.

“Please, don’t. I can’t stand that someone else touched me without my consent, but it would bother me more to push you away from touching me when you wished. You’re the only person I will share my body with and I find your touch comforting.”  Astarion explained to Tav who reached forward once again.

“Can I continue touching your scalp?”

“Darling, you don’t have to ask. I appreciate you did so, but I want nothing to change between us because of her…” Tav smiled lovingly to Astarion’s wish and she began to message his scalp with shampoo. Tav grinned when Astarion moaned under her ministrations. It didn’t take long for her to help him with washing his hair and managing his curls.

Tav took to draining the tub as Astarion slid his underwear on. The summer heat made adding anything else sweltering even with cooling magic in the establishment. Tav removed her clothing, her armor long since been removed previous to washing Astarion’s hair. Tav sauntered to the bed in her underwear only, her breasts exposed since Astarion requested that nothing change between the two. Tav didn’t miss how Astarion’s eye’s tracked her movement as she went to her side of the bed. Tav was going to search for a glass in her pack when Astarion uncorked the bottle and drank from it directly. Astarion offered the bottle to Tav who took a swig in kind before returning it to Astarion.

Astarion corked the wine and although he would have wished to drink more, he felt being drunk on top of his current emotional state would be a bad idea.

Kissing her forehead, the two laid down to get some rest. What transpired over the day left Tav without an appetite but she still forced herself to eat a provisioning staple from her pack while folding the laundry earlier that day. It wasn’t much, but it was substance. Astarion went to pull Tav against his chest when she smiled and spun her finger to tell him to turn around. Astarion turned and faced the other way only to feel Tav’s arms encircle him. It made him feel safe, loved and listened to. He felt like he was home.

Astarion wasn’t sure when he fell into his trance, but he remembered the nightmare vividly. He was being preyed upon and Cazador’s haunting voice echoed beyond his grave. He was chanting out sayings he told him in the past. You are nothing! You’re worthless and will never amount to anything! You are mine. You will never leave me, I am inside of you. The last one especially bothered him,  because aside from the obvious context it could mean, it also bothered him because Astarion was concerned just how much of Cazador would be tied to his soul. He remembered telling Tav before killing the vile man that a part of him would always be part of Astarion but Astarion had always wondered how much. During the nightmare, the overlay of comments weren't just enough. Instead there were brief flashes of faces he took to bed, positions he was forced to endure and the damn putrid rat he gave up more often than not in favor of flaying.

Astarion wasn’t aware he was screaming nor woken Tav up until he saw her beautiful face and heard her voice gently begging him to wake up. He felt the warmth of her as she held him, his consciousness coming back to him as he noticed the tears down his face. Astarion reached his hands around her waist and held her tight, sobbing into her breast as his head was cushioned on it. He didn’t care, it was her. He was safe with her, they loved each other, and gods, did he need something to ground him out.

Her. He needed her.

Astarion shimmied north before he kissed and licked his favorite pulse point just below her ear.

“May I?”

He didn’t need to hear an answer when Tav positioned her neck in just the way he preferred so he could suckle from her vein. After one last kiss, Astarion tenderly sank his teeth into her sensitive flesh. His hearing caught the muffled moan and he grinned as he partook of her life essence. Astarion began to drink and moaned at the taste of her. No one would have blood as sweet as her, nor taste like a fine vintage of wine like the woman in his arms. Astarion stopped shortly after he began, knowing how precious the blood was and whom it kept alive. Astarion licked the wounds and sealed them before kissing the bruised flesh once more.

It was then that he smelled it. Her arousal was strong, and after having ingested her blood, Astarion was hard and wanting. Only problem was, he was in pain from his bath earlier and his attempt to rid himself of the taint from the other woman. His cock throbbed in pain as it was engorged with Tav’s crimson life. Flinching, Astarion pulled away to pull his underwear down and off. It was then that Tav saw the problem. He looked to be in pain, so Tav hopped off the bed and retrieved some Balsam ointment and a potion of healing.

As Astarion drank the potion of healing, Tav liberally applied to the ointment to his aching cock. Although it hurt, the cooling gel and her hand motions felt good to his mast. Astarion couldn’t help the drop of natural lubrication on the tip of his length. Astarion saw Tav hungerly look at his manhood, but she made no motion to act on it. Astarion was frustrated. A night or two again, this wouldn’t have happened. They were attuned to one another. They knew each other's bodies and souls, so why now was she hesitant?

“Can this ointment be used internally?” Astarion asked innocently, although what was swimming in his brain was anything but innocent.

“I believe so. Why?” Tav asked while Astarion gently guided her head to his mast where she licked the liquid eagerly, earning a moan from the vampire before she pulled back confused.

“Because I need you, and I’m tired of my life being ruled by others. I said I am going to live my life the way I want to and I meant it. Fuck everyone else who thinks they can take my autonomy away. I only need you. You make me safe, wanted, but not sexually…well…most times,” Astarion said with a smirk. “But, most of all, I am loved by you and I love you as well. Now, I want to feast on your succulent cunt and make love to you like no other man can.“ Astarion pulled her head tenderly to his face and kissed her fervently and with passion. Astarion easily slipped his tongue inside her mouth and they danced the familiar song that only they knew. Astarion began to pull at her underwear, asking to slip them off. Tav  responded by moving her arms to shimmy the material down her legs and she flung the black underwear off to the side. Both were bare to each other at last as Astarion fondled Tav’s breasts. Tav gave a sigh of relief to his actions and laid her head back on the bed. Astarion had a masterful tongue and fingers, something that was used on Tav often, but was it right to be making love to him when he was still compromised?

Astarion picked up on her worry, the tadpoles broadcasting directly to him as her concerns were on the surface level.

“I want to share my body with you. Only you.” Astarion muttered against her flesh as he took her nipple into his mouth.

“Hells, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull out.” Astarion murmured as he switched to the other nipple.

Tav moaned at the feel of her lover. “Then don’t. Come in me.”

Astarion groaned as his cock grew harder and more rigid. He wasn’t aware that he could get harder but his lover never failed to illicit such reactions from him.

“But…Gale just told us about Dhampirs last week when we….well….pissed them off with our activities. What if you…” Astarion worriedly said.

“I have teas if we decide not to chance having your child but know that if you decide this is what you want, then I am onboard as well.”

“I…It’s embarrassing.” Astarion admitted as he finally kissed his way down to her delicious peach. Astarion began giving small licks to her slit before he used his two fingers to spread her labia apart. “I don’t know about wanting a child, but the thought of you swollen with our progeny, the thought of…for lack of a better term….breeding you. It makes me need you.”

Tav merely smiled and brushed her hands through his soft curls. “I’ll take the teas since we need to think this through but for the time being, imagine you wanted to do that. Breed me and enjoy.”

Astarion smiled and thought to himself a moment. ‘how did I find her?’ before he claimed her lips again.

“Then I’ll breed you. You’re mine.” Astarion growled as he dropped his head between the legs he sat between and took a long lick up the slit with the flat of his tongue. Tav moaned and murmured “I’m yours,” above him as he spread her labia with his fingers and dove in as if his head always belonged there. To Astarion, he loved giving oral to his lover. She tasted almost as good as her blood and after having laid with a thousand souls, saying he was addicted to her taste and that she was the best tasting woman he ever laid with was saying something. To Astarion, he felt he belonged there, nestled between her thighs, as the woman he loved began getting louder the more he suckled and tenderly cared for her bundle of nerves. Astarion would occasionally dip his tongue deep inside her to taste her essence, and it was so delectable that he wrapped his arms around her hips and held her to him. When he delved into her innermost area, his nose would hit her clit, and as engorged as it was, she was panting, gasping and whining above him. Astarion began to include his finger, easily sliding two inside her and grinning at how wet she was. Two became three fingers as he gently stretched her and hit that rough patch just inches inside her, the spot that had her seeing stars.

He knew she was close.  

Astarion moved up to her clitoris and went as fast and loving as he could with the tip and flat of his tongue. He pumped his finger inside her, making sure to hit the erogenous areas every pass through. It took mere moments for her world to shatter, the inside of her spasming and contracting with the throb of her clit. Astarion helped her ride it out as he slowed but never stopped until Tav began begging for his hard-on.

“Please, Star, please give me your cock! Make love to me! Fill me!”

“Oh, I plan to, darling. I’m going to coat that pretty cunt of yours. I want to fill you, make you round with my seed.” Astarion knew in the back of his mind that Tav would take teas and so she would not get pregnant, but that didn’t stop him from fantasizing. He would imagine those teas didn’t exist and imagine he was trying to impregnate his lover. Did they need more stability and a few other decisions before thinking of kids? Yeah, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the fantasy.

“Please, fill me with your child!”

Astarion smirked as he stroked himself a few times before he lined himself up with her entrance.

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you.” Astarion huskily said before he took her lips to his own and thrust his length deep inside her. He bottomed out in one thrust since she was so wet and ready for him. Astarion groaned into a growl as he felt those tight, warm walls surround him. This was home to him. Being buried inside of her was home.

“Only you. Only you can share my body. Gods, I love you, darling.”  Astarion almost whimpered against her lips as he set a brutal pace. Astarion knew he wouldn’t last inside of her and began to find his rhythm as he rolled his hips against her own.

“You feel so good.”

“I’m going to make you feel even better.” Astarion encouraged. He took Tav’s right leg and held it by the crook of her knee, holding it up as he slammed into her at an angle. This hit an erogenous zone that made her throw her head back in ecstasy. The only sound, save for panting, moaning and gasping, were the sounds of skin slapping and wet noises. Astarion knew he was nearing his end as he felt the familiar coil low in his belly but he needed Tav to finish too. Astarion took the hand not holding her leg up and began to rub her clit in fast paced circles. Tav began to almost scream in pleasure, and Astarion was sure their friends heard them by now. He didn’t care.

“You’re so good to me.” Astarion grunted in an attempt to hold in a moan.

He felt home, he felt safe, and as soon as Tav hit her precipice, clamping around his engorged cock and spasming against him, it pulled him down with her. Astarion slammed into her to the hilt as thick ropes of his sperm coated her insides just like he promised. There was so much of it that it began to seep out the sides and dribble down the edges where his cock met her entrance. Astarion kissed her again but this time it was slow and sensual. Astarion drank her in and kissed her with everything his heart had to offer.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Astarion replied as he pulled out and began to help her clean up. “Thank you.”

Tav placed her hand on his face so that he would look at her for her next sentence.

“I love you, and you’ll never have to go back to how things were. Nothing will take me away from you, and I’ll make sure you stay free. You’re safe.”

Astarion kissed her briefly again and held her for a moment. He was safe, nestled in the arms of the only one he truly called his family.

[distractedrighter]

aggressively playing thru act 2 so I can finish the game because I need to write a fluff sequel to 'not a lover'

[astarionfixation]

Chapter 6: "It won’t hurt but a moment, darling"

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: Mature for mentions of sex and blood

CW mentions of sexual assault, sex trafficking, panic attacks

Word count count: 6.5k yep, I was away for a week but at least I come bearing gifts words

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/138874459

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

The scene at the inn looks extremely familiar and he's sure some corners of it resemble quite accurately the night before. Except his delusional hopes to find a solution to his current parasite predicament have all but dissolved, yet maybe shape shifted towards an unlikely alliance with her. Small, insignificant human that she is, yet each and every one of his companions seems to have a fascination with her.

And indeed, he catches her eye from across the room, as their accidental mutual friends are buzzing around her, certainly grateful to have their health and strength back without apparent consequences from the night before. And he is sure it's just gratefulness but from the way he sees the wizard getting closer and familiar to her, hand on her shoulder that drops to her hip, certainly with the excuse of the crowd around her, surely he lowers his head and gets his filthy mouth way too close to her ear to make her hear whatever he thinks will impress her.

He finds his teeth gritting and he swears it's just because 

*No one gets to tamper with my food!*

In that instant it is almost too convenient that this lovely, smiling barmaid seems intent to care only for whatever he is going to ask, forgetting every other shouting creature that demands her attention for another pint of anything.

“How may I serve you, my lord”

And he has to bite his tongue not to laugh at the epithet, despite how convenient his looks have been in gaining him access to every place -and person- he has ever set his eyes upon.

“Well sweet thing” he begins with his mellifluous tone set to persuade fairies to give up their own light for him. A long, delicate finger reaches for a strand of her straw like hair and wraps around it, inviting her closer so he can whisper to her.

“I would be so, very very grateful if you could get me two glasses of the most precious drink you offer in this fine establishment”

His movements are studied and rehearsed and his brain might as well focus on the corner of his eye, searchin for Her and considering options to send back to Waterdeep different pieces of the mage in different boxes if his excuse for a flirt does not promptly focus on someone, anyone else but Her. He's not jealous, of course not, *of him?!??* And he knows, from her lips, from her mind how all of herself is pulled to him.

*It was my name on her lips last night! My name on her darn little book! Not any wizard from Waterdeep or otherwise!*

He's brought back by the clinking sound of two goblets that are definitely more elegant and rich looking than anything anyone else is holding in the tavern, and he knows once again how far his simple charm can get him. The girl is smiling at him, full of hope, pulling herself closer from behind the bar so that her bosom is almost obscenely exposed in front of him. And he would be lying if he didn't admit to the flattery it always was to see people stumble upon their own feet in an effort to please him, to be chosen by him for the night, blissfully unaware of how that meant their luck had turned on them forever.

A dark flash threatens to take away his attention from the scene and he knows it's much better not to linger on memories. In one of his exaggerated movements he finds the hand of the girl to bring to his lips, his eyes fixed on her cornflower ones. He plants a long, wet kiss that holds so many promises, none of which he will keep, and he lingers a moment longer so she can have her fill of his attention. As he slowly pulls away his index finger goes to tuck a strand of her hair just behind her ear, brushing lightly on her skin and he can tell already: a word and he would have her, she probably wouldn't even make it upstairs. He holds her gaze and her trembling lips just barely audible let him know that

“Not to worry my lord, it's on the house”

*Of course it is, why do you think we were playing this game, darling?*

His hand swiftly abandons her hair to grasp at the glasses, his work done. As he turns around to find in which ways he will have to skin the mage, he realises his lips are way too close to her ear, but her eyes are fixed on… himself. And they are somewhat even darker than usual? The look on her face he would have called imperturbable yesterday reveals something akin to disturbance today.

*Maybe I will actually have to skin the wizard tonight if he's the reason of her bother*

His head moves slightly towards the stairs to give her a sign and immediately he sees her wriggle out of her company and towards the path that leads to the upper floor. 

*Still such an obedient little thing*

And he is only too happy to follow.

—-------

“What was that? What did you tell her? Did you give away your secret so easily just hoping she would let you drink from her?!?!”

He's genuinely confused, it takes him a moment to realise she must be referring to the barmaid that he already barely remembers. What did she have the impression was happening? Doesn't she know how he speaks and addresses everyone? How his charm is the one thing he has to keep in control of every exchange? 

*Or is she actually Jealous?*

And as he closes the door of her room behind him, the glasses resting now on a surface, he begins to slowly circle -stalk- her just as he just did that afternoon at the glade, his eyes and smile focused completely on her agitated self, the soft traits of her face trying their best to look upset, yet all he can think is just…

*How adorable…*

But this time she's following his movements and turns around to look at him, her back now to the door, and the corner of his lip might be pulling ever so slightly as he considers the possibility of this ruse being just that, that familiarly naughty side of his brain already envisioning her throwing herself at him as they both fall on the bed and

*I might actually let her ride*

“If this is your way of offering yourself instead my dear, I thought we were already clear on the matter. But don't let me stop your plans of persuasion. In fact…”

He takes a step closer and his hand knows already where to find that sweet, pulsating spot just behind her ear, the idea of tearing at the skin and finally finding her sweetness without the need to imagine any longer makes him swallow emptily in anticipation, and his fingers are almost tingling due to the warmth of her skin being so close now and his muscles tense ready to pull her in, fangs almost bared when… she takes a step back?

*What is she playing at? We both know she wants this, she wants me…*

“Come now darling, there's really no need to play coy, at this point it would be only be a waste of time considering what we already shared”

The honey in his words betrays a slight irritation at the distance she put between them, his tone every bit the charming one he has rehearsed thousands of times and has never once failed him.

And thankfully! Thankfully, going through the pages of that little insignificant book allowed him to fill the gaps in ways he truly had no idea.

But now he knows, he has seen it in her eyes, transfixed on him despite the blood, or perhaps exactly because of it.

“But if it pleases your wounded pride you can tell me all about your protestations from your sweetly plump lips while I relieve you of every. single. piece. of clothing. that stands between my mouth and your lovely skin. Because that's what you want, isn't it?” 

He knows how to punctuate and accentuate every word to paint an image.

And not that the mere idea isn’t inviting, he feels his own reaction both in his stomach and his crotch. The notion that, for once, he would actually enjoy taking something -He- wanted, -He- needed, for -himself- and not for anyone’s command or amusement, is almost reason enough to make this the version of the story he committed to.

“Don’t tell me that is not exactly what you envisioned whilst you…. How was it?”

And consequences be damned! Let this be a good use of that little vexing book, to cut any avenue she might think of going up to escape her own desire for him. 

“ ‘Lay yourself down with my Voice pouring honey in your ears?’ No need to imagine my dear, in fact let me show you…”

*I will not be denied, and I won't let you deny yourself either sweet thing*

This is as good a version as any if it will get him access to her blood, maybe even her body because surely…

“I can't believe the privilege that has been afforded to you to still behave like a child and have people find it charming!”

He is so used to leading the game that this interruption comes too abruptly to leave her unscathed by his anger at seeing his plans crushed. 

And if throwing her own words at her didn't make her confess her own desire for him,  there is certainly more to use and hurt her from what he can remember of the little insignificant book. Something they share even. His voice comes out as sweet as the choice of words is cruel

“Oh you want to talk about childhood, do you? Do you want to go over how incredibly wise and mature you were “for your age”, darling? How that clever little mind of yours justified every kind of attention you were at the receiving end of because you were just… too enticing” 

He inhales to punctuate the next words 

“and how flattering that felt for you.”

He went too far. He knows it before he spits out the last word. He can see her jaw clenching and the deep inhale she takes, seemingly vexed whilst really, her heartbeat is telling a different story about the exquisite way his words were just the extension of his dagger at times.

Quick scenarios flash in his mind's eye, 

*Is she going to cry? Is she going to storm out? Can she have anything in her arsenal to hit me back with?*

and to that his body stiffens like a spring ready to jump and react, as if any words she next throws at him could physically hit him

*Because isn't it just what I've done to her?*

It was right, it was fair, and he stood up straight with a hint of pride on his face because no stepping down now could mend her from the hurt his words just inflicted on her. He knew exactly what it had touched, he remembered every single *fucking* word he had committed to memory that night he first had his hands on her book. On her mind. He will not admit he even considered the idea they could have bonded over their shared trauma…

“Get out”

*No. No no no! This is all wrong! Where's the attack? Where are the words I can sneak around and throw back at her?! I need to build her up to crush her down! No!*

The fear of losing her anxiety-inducing presence fills his thoughts with venom, and if whatever this was has to come crashing down now, she can be sure she'll get as much damage as the loss of her brings to him.

“Well fine then, I'm sure it won't take me long to find someone kind enough to share their bed and blood with me tonight, in fact you're right, I might just go looking for that lovely barmaid again, she was so eager to please. Believe me darling, I won't be left out in the cold”

Her eyes narrow.

“You're delusional, as if you're the gods gift to every pretty girl who would open her arms and legs to you”

And that's it, that right there is the space between words that he knows will hurt just right, a cold sharp hit from the throat to that spot just above her heart that decides where her lovely colour and warmth will spread next. His crimson eyes narrow and he moves closer to her and when he's just about to move past her and grab the door handle he whispers with his head just slightly bent, so that his breath can hit her skin as much as his words will her heart

“Well… looking at you darling… I thought it was fairly obvious: she doesn't have to be pretty”.

He can feel how her body tensed up. How a strained sound gets trapped in her throat and a sharp inhale through gritted teeth have her swallow. The light of the candles is strangely reflected slightly more intensely by the corner of her eyes and that is how he knows the blow has hit just right and a strange satisfaction takes over in his chest, making him walk just a bit taller, just a bit prouder because all those decades using his body to get what his master demanded turned him into the perfect offering to anyone's desires and the least of his problems will indeed be to find someone, anyone, ready to take him in, if only he's available to give them anything and everything they might want that his body can provide. It doesn't even matter, he won't even have to think, his body has been marked and bent sinuously so many times his mind doesn't have to be there to give anyone anything they might want. Tonight won't be anything more or less special than that and the price for a warm place to sleep *maybe warm blood to drink* is something that comes as second nature to him.

He's out of the door and his feet guide him automatically towards the stairs, his mind trying to focus on the faces of any of the patrons of the inn whose sight might have already lingered a moment too long on him because that's how he knows, how he has always known that his job will be easier, his elegant form already paving the way towards a comfortable place to spend the night in as soon as he gives them what they want, and they all want the same thing anyway. His head shakes as if his mind better not dig further at that thought, and as he takes the first step down he finds his body slouching down instead, coming to sit on the step as his head bends down between his own knees, his long delicate fingers shaking as they pull at the back of his neck so that his head falls just lower and lower.

And among the flashes his mind offers of all the times he had to offer his body as the matter of an exchange for his own survival, a corner of his brain screams at the door now closed behind him and 

*how could she let me go out in the cold again??!?*. 

His shoulders shrug as he tries to make himself smaller. Maybe spending the night on the stairs is just as acceptable, easier, safer for everyone and safer for him, and how deep his mind must have kept him, attempting to avoid memories of useful seduction techniques coming back to him, to not hear her steps, if not her heartbeat, until the warmth of her hand is once again scorching his neck and he flinches too suddenly for his unaffected facade to remain unbroken.

He tries to turn around, his arms still protecting his face, wrapped around his knees and just his crimson eyes and dark circles peek through, looking at her in a way that might seem unthreatening enough that now her arms have gone circling around his shoulders… and it all suddenly feels warmer and there’s also something… weird, something he can't quite pinpoint, but something that feels like there’s no requirement for each and every one of his senses and instincts to be ready to react.

She breathes loudly, louder than even her need for air requires, and the noise alone should be annoying but after a few breaths he realises his own body is following her rhythm even without the need for it, but the slow, measured breaths are bringing an unexpected calm that washes over his tensed muscles, his jaw unclenches and the grip of his own arms around his knees, so tight he didn't realise it made him tremble, is now getting flushed.

*Because if she has her arms around me I don't need to hold on anymore*

The thought is fleeting and he will deny thinking that, but in the next exhale his body finally relaxes into her warm embrace. She hasn't said anything, done anything but holding him and guiding his breath with her own, and while a slight fear crosses his mind -because if she is to hit him with any word now, he would certainly dissolve- he’s also so tired of the charade by this point he can’t hold onto his persona anymore. It comes as a whisper that a part of him still feels betrayed by sharing, because it is the truth and how will that not be ammunition for her to use at a later time?

But his breath is not his own now, following in unison with hers and so the words escape his pale bloodless lips anyway

“I'm sorry, I couldn't do it, I'm sorry”

She leaves the silence holding space in the air for what feels like an eternity after his shameful confession, but he can suddenly feel her arms pulling him tighter to her. Crouching next to him, his head finds a way to nestle in the crook of her neck where he instinctively inhales deeply and the scent of mulled wine and flowers fills his entire being once again, and besides bringing back a hunger pang down in the depth of his stomach, there is now something almost soothing about what's become so familiar and intrinsically associated with her. He must be so stupid to allow himself to feel what seemingly resembles safety, if nothing else because he never knew what that actually meant, but he's so tired. Tired in a way no rest or trance can bring him peace and so even if her warmth is a lie he's making his peace with it, he'll pay the price in time, but for now he can just slightly rub the tip of his nose on that pulsating spot just behind her ear, her scent emanating from it as a sweet siren song for the beast his fangs belong to, but not without an unexpected and reassuring comfort to some other side of himself, something he hasn't felt stirring in such a long time that he had no reason to believe was still there.

The silence, filled only by their breaths, has become so familiar he might be convinced the stairs could be a welcome spot to spend the night if she keeps holding him like this, but that's when his own train of thought is interrupted by her low whisper 

“Come on, come back, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry too”

And at that he shouldn't feel the warmth radiate from every spot their bodies are in contact with each other down to the centre of his stomach, but it does and it's as unfamiliar as it is pleasant. His body follows hers as her arms still circle him and help him to his feet, his head still following her scent, by convenience that also means his eyes don't have to raise from the floor to meet hers and that makes going back to her room easier.

She helps him to sit at the edge of the bed and that's when her arms retract their support and the loss of warmth feels incredibly wrong. With furrowed brows his eyes look for her to understand what he's done wrong to lose her embrace but they find hers as they seem to be just roaming across his shoulders to the leather atop his shirt. His shoulders move almost of their own volition and the leather is quickly discarded on the floor. She suddenly crouches down on the floor and the movement catches him by surprise, not sure what he should brace himself for until he realises her hands are reaching for his boots.

She might have sensed his discomfort because her next movement is announced by her voice before it happens

“I'm just going to help you out of these so you can lay down and rest if you want, is that alright?”

And he finds himself nodding before the end of that sentence makes it to his ears, the finesse with which her fingers are pulling and undoing his old boots is not something that aligns with a thing that has been broken and torn down too many times to repair and yet the careful way her hands find the way to undo them make it seem like she's dealing with something of invaluable worth.

He's slightly transfixed looking at her movements that only when her eyes meet his again, only then he realises she's done, and with a bit of uncertainty she's back up on her feet.

“Rest here, I will be on the chair and we can talk more tomorrow if you want”

But his hand goes immediately to grab her wrist because the idea of losing that safe feeling her warmth gives him now just isn't something he's ready to do without. He pulls wordlessly until she's sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and that's when he scoots back until his back hits the headboard and then his arm extends towards her in a silent invitation.

He can't read her expression but within seconds he doesn't need to because she's removing her own boots and 

*surely she didn't mean to crawl across the bed to reach me in any way other than functional* 

but another part of his brain seems to stir now at the sight of her on all fours moving slowly *languidly* towards him, until she's taken the invite and nestles her body between his extended arm and chest, her own arm now circling at the back of his neck.

“Is this…? I can't… nothing needs to happen, we can just rest, I am here for you”

And that sounds way too much like a challenge for his body not to stir, pulling her closer so that his nose can finally trace her hairline down to her ear again. Until the memory of her words make him shiver

+He holds a grace in the tiny bone of his wrists that clerics cannot give on freedays+

And it's both consoling and disappointing that the moment he can lose himself in her scent again, feeling her body so close to his, the words she chose to describe him come back to his mind, blessed with the curse of an impossible detailed memory that in this occasion lets him know, beyond what she could say out loud, all the ways in which her body, but most importantly her mind, have been devotedly dreaming of him, in a way that lets him know for the first time in his whole life and undeath, that someone other than himself cares about his existence, not only his survival.

*Maybe just as long as I can grant her immortality too, but still, she needs me now as I need her*

He nods as his head is nestled between her jaw and her shoulder, certainly agreeing but also to spur another whiff of that delicious scent only her skin, hair, sweat and blood could conjure, and that's when another side of him replies in a low, trembling tone coming from his chest

“I promise I won't go too far… but please…”

And with that plea his lips part slightly, his teeth now brushing against that pulsating spot with a rhythm that's been hypnotising him since the beginning of this game. His lips closing upon it in something it would surely resemble a kiss and at that moment, with a wonderful whimper escaping her lips, her head turns just enough so that she can look at him with the corner of her deep, dark eyes, her lips barely parted with a slightly faster breath coming and going through them and now he's almost overwhelmed because it was easier to focus just on that one little spot that meant finally knowing what bliss it could be to feed his deep seated hunger, and yet now the same wonder takes hold when envisioning her lips giving way to his, how easily they would part to give him access, how soft would her body truly be, pliable to his every need and desire, truly begging to be his and sate any and every hunger of his, because he knows, she said it in so many words, all circling in his mind and 

+I will skip, stumble and fall, he’s the blinded fool and I’m content to stand by

I’ll be the conspicuously deranged lover of the air he walks past+

And he has a right at that to concede to the delusion that she might actually be infatuated with him for no other reason than his existence. For a moment he will believe whatever she saw in him was before she could realise anything about his immortality. For a moment he decides to believe her words, committed to paper in that little precious book that was never meant for anyone else's eyes, and that she is head over heels for him just because he's a worthy creature, just like every one of his conquest wanted to believe they were special to him, whilst he hardly remembered their name the morning after.

“it's alright, you can feed” 

the words bring him back and carry a rush to his head filled with a million visions of her body, soft, supple and compliant, all the ways his hands and lips could roam those curves that gave him vertigo at the mere thought of, every way he could make her moan and coax pleasure out of her until she could feel as desperate for him and he did her now, every image fights for dominance and 

*does it really matter where I start as long as I can explore each and every inch of her that’s covered in skin?* 

his lips trembling, tracing closer to her and he’s finally about to taste the gates of her breath when her words hit him again

“but we can’t kiss”

His teeth have to clench because he will not lose his mind over this mere mortal toying with his needs! His eyes tighten to mere slits and his fingers are gripping so tightly to her shirt that surely in a moment the tearing sound will be echoing through the room. She has been playing him all along! She’s just doing this to mortify him and she doesn’t understand what she’s done to him! As his hands release the grip on her clothes he finds his nose trailing back to her neck, now tracing her collarbone with his hungry lips and

*If it’s a challenge you want, a challenge you’ll get love*

He nods so that his soft curls are now certainly tickling her jaw and neck, and he can tell from the way the breath has now escaped her lips that his plan is already working. His fingers roam to find the hem of her shirt and disappear beneath that, finding the stark contrast of the warmth of the skin on her sides, slowly tracing with his tips and nails to her bellybutton. Another sharp breath through her lips and she swallows emptily, and he can feel that just under his lips as they are tracing at her neck still.

“Astarion, did you hear me? You can’t…”

“I’ll do you one better darling, I promise I won’t touch any part of your body, for any reason other than feeding”

*two can play at this game*

He feels her swallowing again against his mouth and now he knows he can gently move his entire body to fit against hers. A leg between hers so that she can surely feel the response of his body, but even with half his chest pressed against hers, his fingers keep roaming her sides, down to her hips and disappearing again under the shirt, halting and changing their course just a moment before they are to brush against the soft underside of her breasts.

He can almost trace the curve and he can tell from her heartbeat that, despite her words, he’s not the only one who's hungry for the other

*but you wanted to play and gods I can make this a torturing little game for you too, my sweet*

An audible gasp escapes her lips now that his lips have locked onto a spot for a moment longer, and she might be expecting his fangs now, yet her body does not stiffen in anticipation for the pain, and that is all the more encouragement for him lo leave a soft, long, obscenely sounding kiss just where her neck meets her shoulder. The sudden jolt that travels her entire body confirming what he already knows 

*your body is aching for me*

and so his lips keep leaving a soft and wet trail of kisses everywhere on her skin, coming down her shoulder and arms and back to her collarbone, while his fingers trace her sides still, and in a moment, when her back arches to meet his lips, he swiftly goes to pull her shirt down past her shoulder leaving her left side exposed, her breasts almost visible but her nipple still covered by the strained collar of the shirt.

*I need to taste you, I need to have you*

At that sight his body betrays him, as another unnecessary mouthful of nothing gets swallowed and he feels his cock twitch pressed against her hips, heaving at the rhythm of her breath. Part of him knows he needs to get this over and done quickly or he won't be able to keep his promise, but at the same time he loves to coax out that side of her that spent all that time thinking 

*dreaming of me* 

The part of her that is now, surely kept prisoner by whatever silly, self imposed rule she decided to lock herself behind. 

*let’s see how long for* 

When his hand reaches up, under her shirt, his nails start to trace the skin just around her breast and a deep moan erupts from her lips carrying his name in a way he never before loved as much

“Astarion!”

The corner of his lips pull just enough, because no matter what she said, he can feel she wants him in more ways than one, and as his nail dig just a hint too much in that delicate area just on the valley between her breasts, she exhales sharply and now he finds her breath to breathe her in, his face so close to hers that nothing is in focus, the tip of his nose grazing hers and he is now making an effort to keep enough distance between their lips yet she is likely unaware of how her mouth is reaching out to his.

*your rules, my love*

His lips trace back to her cheek and down to her ear to whisper as his nails trace her skin from the centre of her chest to that soft area south of her collarbone but still not close enough to her nipple

“Your blood just reaches out to me and blooms every time my nails press and trace just… like… that”

And the way her body arches at his words brings that soft, supple spot just atop of her breast too close to his lips to refuse now. He finds himself surprised at the idea that the first time he’s tasting her is not to give in to the delicious tempting bit behind her ear, but his mouth is now watering beyond anything he has ever experienced, his lips just sucking at that speckle of skin just south of her collarbone, where he can feel the rhythm of her heart so loudly that the distraction is almost enough to ignore that her nipple is inexorably poking through the shirt, just against his chin

“It won’t hurt but a moment darling” 

and then two runaway words follow with 

“forgive me” 

barely breathed out.

Both words escaped his lips like traitors that were not meant for her ears, but that's quickly out of his mind when finally his fangs can break the thin resistance that the soft skin of her breasts was valiantly putting up. 

The warm liquid hitting his tongue sets off an explosion in his mind, makes him realise he has never learnt enough words to describe the absolute perfection that the taste of thinking creatures could bring to his lips, it would take a poet rather than a thief like himself to describe the complexity and richness of the thick liquid that caresses his insides, from his mouth and down his throat where finally the thirst is quenched, and when it fills his stomach every single part of his body feels… relief… every muscle fills with renewed vigour he didn’t know his body could posses, and suddenly he feels his own cheeks, his own fingertips still digging in her softness, getting closer to her warmth, and the flavour is so inebriating that no part of him seems to remember anything that ever happened before her blood traversed his own veins and so feeling his own hips thrust against hers feels just like the most natural consequence of that bliss that's permeating every single part of his body. The softness of her body, even with fabric still separating their legs, makes him aware of the stark contrast with his own, his hip bones as much as his own hardness relishing in the pressure his body needs now, needs to feel as if she could be all around every single part of him. The train of thoughts is becoming so warm and fuzzy while his mouth is still indulging in a mouthful of the ambrosia spilling from her veins when a low whimper from her mouth makes him realise she's gone limp in his arms.

*shit!*

A shred of lucidity comes back to him and he forces himself to end the first moment of true perfection he has experienced in all of his existence. He plants a kiss on the punctures on her breast, gently closing them, and his hand reaches to cup her cheek, her head lulling to the side with slightly parted lips from which her breath comes in faint irregular gasps.

She is magnificent, the most beautiful creature his senses have ever witnessed, her life essence coursing through his veins maybe makes him more compliant to her and only her but suddenly he wishes he could pour every loving word and sign of affection he ever had to master to give it proper significance. Her flavour is more intoxicating than anything her bouquet tried to announce about her. There surely is no life nor undeath to ever be considered if it has to be without the smooth, velvety liquid that traverses her entire being, and now his as well. He should tell her, he wants to and words are about to betray him again when *thankfully* he manages to keep them all in, while only relinquishing a soft

“Thank you” 

and his arms go to circle her torso so he can gather her to his chest, one hand caressing obsessively at her soft curls, holding her, wishing for his body to engulf any reaction that still comes from the trembling limbs. He will repeat to himself that this hypnotic hold she has on him is only due to the fact that her blood is new and fresh to his system, unable to recognise they are two distinct beings. He almost jumps when her hand sneaks on him tracing lightly at his jaw, she feels colder than usual and something akin to panic flashes behind his eyes for less than heartbeat, but then her eyelids slowly reveal her dark eyes once again, fixed on his, and a flash of her pink tongue wets her lips before she can gift him again the sound of her voice.

“you should have told me”

And the slight smirk on her face now makes him realise she’s spent but not in any danger. In fact, the rosiness of her cheeks, the breath still laboured despite her lowered heartbeat suggest something entirely different. Suddenly his nostrils are caressed by the soft tanginess of pomegranate that he now knows to be the herald of her arousal. For a moment he searches his own memories of the night he died and lived forever but he knows better than to linger there. A hint of pride takes root in his awareness as the soft, almost imperceptible jolts still travelling the length of her body tell him all he needs to know about what just happened: Pain and pleasure mixed and merged until the latter won over her.

“And ruin the surprise, my darling?” 

He will deny in every way that 

*really? I did not know...*

That she was truly his first and nothing could have prepared him for the way she felt. Nor the way he did.

Her eyelids seem heavy as her lips pull into a smile at that, her breathing becoming more regular and he can hear her heartbeat pulsating again enough to sing for him. 

He realises he has no idea how to care for a human after a vampiric bite.

Along with the warmth her blood brought to his entire being, there's an unexplained feeling though, just at the mouth of his stomach, that he can’t quite name, as if her sweet reaction is just in preparation for a punishment, now that he has officially broken another rule imposed by Cazador.

*Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures*

He finds his face contorted in a grimace just for a split second at that thought, and while the instinct comes to hold her tighter to his chest, something else urges him deeply through a physical need to get as far away from her now sleeping body as possible.