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pacentia · 7 months

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Title: Forever

Summary: After BG3 events, Astarion and reader feel ready for a child.

Pairing: established relationship fem!reader x Astarion

Tags: NSFW, rough sex, sweetness, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, bloodsucking, kissing, L-bombs

Word count: 1,704

Note: listen up folks. no idea if vampires thralls can make people pregnant. but in my world they can. Pls enjoy. i haven't finished the game, so this is my own fantasy after bg3 events:)). Drabble/fic/headcanon requests about our darling husband are welcome :))

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and eventually months into years, together with your darling Astarion. After the events of tadpoles, mindflayers and vampire masters, the time had come to settle down and live quietly, close to Baldur's gate city. Close enough for easy supply runs, yet far enough to enjoy the privacy of your very own house. Astarion was quick to realize he'd want no one else in his eternal life but you - and asked you - on one knee - to be his forever.

The wedding was held shortly after, with only a close circle of your friends present. Karlach shed a tear from happiness - knowing you two were destined to be together, while Halsin felt just… Bittersweet. Astarion wed a fine woman, although he was secretly convinced that an Druid like himself: alive, warm, and aging could take better care of your needs.

This was often also the subject of certain discussions that popped up in your marriage as you were reading in the garden, or drinking hot tea beside the hearthfire. Worries that washed over him about the coldness of his touch - or the eventual loss he would have to endure somewhere in the far future, when you would eventually lose the battle against time. You understood where his worries came from, but you were always there to comfort your darling husband. You possessed no interest in anyone's touch but his and you pledged to him that you'd always be present in his undead heart.

Of course, the latter made you interested in if his vampirism could be cured or, if you could transform into one. Yet, both choices were frustratingly impossible. Curing him would just mean ending him, heaven's forbid. Transforming yourself would mean serving another vampire lord, a fate that Astarion would never want you to experience.

Though tonight - nothing of that sort mattered and you found yourself intertwined in one another, the soft duvet covering your bare bodies. Your fingers played with his light-grey curls, while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, ready for bed.

"Say, love," Astarion suddenly spoke up, "I heard you took care of a lost little girl in the city today."

Right. A young Tiefling girl had lost her mother inbetween the packed crowds of the city, and the girl came to you for help. How exactly did Astarion know that?

"Karlach told me of course." The vampire stated as a matter of fact. "She saw you and passed by this noon for tea." You nodded and explained the situation - how you held the little girl's hand right until you found her mother together. The woman thanked you over and over again.

A small silence fell between you two, until the man continued his stream of thoughts, "Karlach then asked me if we'd ever have children and I said that I didn't know what you would think of it and I -" Astarion's gaze avoided yours until he remembered he was probably rambling again, "Sorry love, I just wanted to know if you and I could have that sort of future together?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Astarion as a father. He'd definitely spoil his little ones and love them unconditionally.

"A little one to raise in our house." The pale man smiled, lost in his thoughts. "We already have a spare room that we could decorate for them."

Of course those thoughts had crossed your mind. It would be a new chapter in both of your lives, and you felt ready to take it on together with him. Behind his cheeky and often sarcastic banter, there was a sweet and caring man - only revealed to the closest ones he trusted.

"You know they'll be incredibly mischievous and stubborn, right?" You smirked up at him, to which the vampire quickly retaliated, "Darling, you wound me. Besides, that's why you're there to teach them kindness." Astarion sing-songed, nuzzling into your hair.

No hesitation was present in your words, '"Of course, Astarion. I want this with you." You smiled sweetly, gently guiding his cold digits over your belly, making your vampire husband rub it with such fondness.

Something within him stirred, yet another level of deeper protectiveness that he would soon feel over you. Any other man that would come too close to you, would feel his deadly fangs buried into their jugular. Rip them to shreds. Kill them in cold blood. In fact, it made him involuntarily bare his fangs to you, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You grinned at his primal reaction, and whispered as you caressed his chin, "Dear Sir, you know you can't drink anything from me when you've put your little one in me, right?"

He was taken by a frenzy, and rolled his heavy body over yours - his nose buried into your neck, inhaling the delicious smell of your perfect blood. His cock hardened at the thought of drinking from you, his icy tongue lapping over the countless bite marks that he'd decorated your neck with.

"I know, sweet love. Sadly, I'll have to return to …inferior blood." An adorable pout covered his beautiful features - which made your heart flutter.

"You should get to work then, my love." You whispered in his pointy ear, pressing small kisses along his cheekbone, and you wrapped your legs around his strong back. The vampire chuckled at your words, "Oh, darling." He groaned, elated to see you so eager to get bred by him. His hardness teased over your wet and warm folds, making himself slick before he'd slide home. His arms snaked under yours, to completely wrap himself around you protectively, burying his face into your neck. The intoxicating smell of your blood so close to his lips, made him lose control over his pace and bucked his strong core into yours, drenched cock sliding deep in your sex.

"Fuck, Astarion…" You gasped in pleasure, his large cock burying itself deep deep deep within your folds. The vampire watched your features contort into pure bliss, and bit his lips in return - until he was nestled as deep as possible.

"This is what you want, isn't it, my darling?" Astarion whispered, while you clawed at his back - sweet agony from his pressure on your cervix. His way with words was too much to bear. Icy lips found your ear again, dripping with sin, "Completely inside your warm, wet, delicious cunt."

You could only whimper Astarion and nod, your fingers buried in his soft curls, as his hips started to gently, slowly thrust inside you. His cock felt so perfect. Big, firm, as if he was carved just for you.

"Fuck, darling," Your husband growled, losing himself deep inside you, speeding up his pace, shifting his position so that he could hold onto your hips for leverage. His red eyes feasted on your body, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his gaze on. He could hear your heart beating faster. Blood pumping through your veins. Cheeks flushed red. He was salivating for you.

"Please, Astarion…" You cried out in delicious agony, needy for him to grab and fuck you harder. Impregnate you. Show Faerûn that you completely belong to him.

"What is it, my love?" He growled with bared teeth, sounds of wet, sloppy thrusts filling the bedroom.

"Bite me once more." You begged, holding onto his strong shoulders, "Just one last time, please."

Yes. One more time he could have you. His sanguine hunger kicked in, and he couldn't restrain himself anymore, "Oh my, darling…" He moaned In relief, his thrusts never faltering, thanking you over and over again for your gift - until he set his fangs in your neck.

One last time that sharp, ice-cold feeling washed over your senses - unable to move or do anything. Delicious pain mixed with heavenly pleasure, both of your orgasms were nearing. No combination more delicious for your husband - your fresh blood spilling from his lips and your cunt wrapped tightly around him. Pleasure welled up inside of your belly, enduring your vampire's violent kiss - until you reached your peak while he drank from your neck.

His digits dug into the sheets, pupils dilated as he released from your neck in time, overcome with adrenaline and power.

"That's it, my darling…"

His thrusts became harder, faster - his bloody lips finding yours, tongue invading your mouth. You were absolutely spent already, having lost nearly two pints of your blood again - so you held onto him for dear life. The metallic taste of your blood made you nearly gag if he wasn't lapping it up off your lips like a hungered animal.

"Astarion, fuck… Make me fucking pregnant." You cried desperately against his lips, his big cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. And like always, he delivered your plea - and with a deep and primal groan he reached his peak. "Fuck, oh - Fuck - darling!" He growled with bloody fangs, his crimson eyes rolling in the back of his head, jets of his release splattering right against your cervix. Filled up to the brim.

Sated with blood and pleasure, he collapsed on top of you, holding you dearly in the afterglow of your pleasure. Sweaty, bloody bodies pressed against each other. His face buried against the side of your neck, lapping remnants of your blood one last time.

"Can't get enough of it, can't you, sweet?" You grinned.

"Never, my love." He smiled against your flesh as his cold hand gently caressed your lower belly - hoping that his love would nestle itself deep inside of you tonight.

"I love you, Astarion."

"And I love you, my darling. Forever."

#astarion x you #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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mooshywrites · 1 month

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Bloodied Stars - Part 5 - Crimson Warning

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

Masterlist

Art commissions

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Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

Word count - 5.8K

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

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“Can you truly look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me?”

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Chapter List

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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 room 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 grow hungry.

Yours always,

Astarion.”

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The next few days seemed to pass in a blur. Astarion would visit in the evenings, accompanying your dinner with a bit of his blood. You tried not to think too much about the pale elf’s gift, though you were slightly mesmerized by the hairpin’s beauty and sentiment. It became your constant companion, tucked into your hair during the day.

The time not with Astarion was spent in only two ways; exploring the building to find Evelyn or sitting in the washroom to stare outside of the window. You didn’t feel as trapped as you did before, but every once in a while, you craved the feeling of the sunlight on your skin.

Oh how you wished there was something interesting for you to sew.

Before you knew it, the days had turned into weeks and you had grown into a comfortable pattern. Astarion had slowly but surely began spending more and more time with you when night fell. Sometimes, it was small talk about the day, but more often, it ended with Astarion’s hands ever so gently holding you. Before you could interrogate him about his feelings, he’d find a way to slip out, leaving you to stew on your own emotions. It seemed that this evening would be no different.

“Curse these cravings,” you grumbled, curling up into your four poster bed.

Astarion usually came to see you by this time of the day, but today he was annoyingly late. You could be patient, but the little hellion you were carrying apparently could not.

As if called by your thoughts, the door creaked open quietly.

“Ready to see me?” Astarion called through the open doorway.

It was hard not to notice how much more polite he’d grown the longer you stayed here. His demeanor had done nothing to help your constantly conflicted feelings, but you supposed it was better than him being a complete and total arse.

“More than ready,” you replied with a small smile, unable to hide your relief at his presence.

He approached you, moving with a quiet grace as he perched himself on the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed across yours lightly, sending a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth.

“I do have to apologize for my lateness, I suppose,” Astarion sighed. “Had a couple urgent matters.”

“Urgent matters?” you prodded nervously.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Evelyn said that any amount of stress can affect the pregnancy,” he assured, still not meeting your eyes.

“Are you sure?” you continued, leaning forward to try to catch his wandering gaze. “Is it something that affects me and the baby?”

“Absolutely not.” Astarion answered firmly, finally looking at you. There was a strange intensity in his gaze, a feeling of something you couldn’t quite place. You held his gaze for a moment, trying to decipher the emotions swirling in those mesmerizing crimson eyes.

“Then I won’t worry about it,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. But as Astarion’s hand covered yours, a shiver ran down your spine.

He leaned towards you, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting,” he whispered, his breath cool against your skin.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, letting yourself be pulled into his aura yet again.

As he pulled away slightly, you were left breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest. Astarion’s eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your insides flutter. You avoided his gaze, trying to push the fog out of your mind.

You couldn’t do this again.

Astarion had fallen into a habit of these kinds of things. Tender kisses to your hands before he left, loving gazes when you spoke about your day, heated lips meeting yours whenever he thought the time right. It always left your head spinning afterwards, but when it finally cleared, you couldn’t help but question his sincerity.

“I can’t resist you any longer,” he murmured. “I need you.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, leaning out of his arms. “As much as I would like to play house, I’m afraid our little Dhampire will eat me from the inside out if I don’t give into the cravings.”

Astarion’s facade of confidence wavered slightly as you pulled away. He quickly masked it with a playful smile, brushing off any concerns. With a deft motion, he reached up and plucked the hairpin from your hair, twirling it between his fingers before pricking his palm without hesitation.

“In that case, I shan’t make you wait any longer,” he quipped.

The crimson bead of blood welled up, shimmering in the dim firelight of the room. Astarion’s gaze never left yours as he offered his hand to you, something he had done every night. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, however, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the inner turmoil he so expertly concealed.

“I never get used to this,” you complained, leaning forward to drink from the pinprick.

The metallic tang of blood filled your senses, intermingling with the heady aroma of Astarion’s cologne. As you drew back, savoring the warmth that spread through you, you caught his gaze firmly fixed on your parted lips.

“You do have a way of making even the mundane seem enchanting,” he mused.

“A very pretty lie,” you shot back, throwing him a small smile.

“Why do you always assume my affection is a lie?” he asked, feigning offense.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Call it a gut feeling. Or perhaps it’s just because I know that you can’t love someone you don’t know anything about,” you shrugged.

“Oh, darling,” he purred. “Who said anything about love? I’m purely speaking of affection and desire.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“So if I were to ask you, say,” Astarion pondered for a moment. “Your favorite fruit. Then would you believe what I say?”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. “Trust is formed on more than favorite foods. Which would be peaches, by the way.”

“For gods’ sake,” he sighed dramatically, leaning back on the plush bed. “What will it take to make you trust me.”

You giggled, leaning over him, propping yourself up on your palms. You gazed at him for a moment, taking in every crease and line on his face.

“You can start by telling the truth,” you whispered, meeting his gaze.

“Anything,” he murmured back softly.

You thought for a moment, wondering what exactly you should ask him. You finally settled on asking something mundane, something that could lighten the air around the two of you. But when you opened your mouth, completely different words spilled out.

“Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly and your breath stilled.

Not at all what you had planned.

“And if I do love you?” he responded quietly. “What would that even mean?”

The vulnerable look in his eye made your heart clench. It was as if he wasn’t really asking you the question, he was trying to find it in himself.

You leaned in closer, your lips hovering just a breath away from his.

“We’ll figure that part out later.”

With a surge of courage, or perhaps even need for avoidance, you closed the distance between your lips and his. Your kiss was gentle at first, hesitant. You could feel the pressure from his touch as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The sensation sent a shiver through you, causing as soft sigh to escape your lips as you leaned further into him.

Astarion’s response was immediate and fervent, his lips molding against yours with a hunger that matched the intensity of your own. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer to him, his touch igniting the fire that had been smoldering for so long. There was a desperation in his embrace, a deep need to hold you close.

When you finally broke apart for air, breathless and dizzy from the kiss, Astarion sat up with you still straddling his lap. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching you.

“I think-“ he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

“For gods sake, stop talking for once,” you chided, leaning in for another kiss.

It was much easier to fall into desire than it was to have an open conversation about your feelings. What if he were to say the things you never wanted to hear? What if he confirmed what you knew deep down?

You were just a means to an end.

You ground your hips down, almost in an effort to short circuit your swirling insecurities. Astarion groaned into the kiss, his hands grasping at your hips tighter. His touch was both possessive and desperate, almost as if he feared you would slip through his embrace at any moment.

As your hands tangled in his hair, his lips left a blazing trail down your neck, igniting a fire just below your stomach. A low growl rumbled in his chest, sending vibrations through you that only stoked the flames higher. His teeth grazed your jaw line, shivers breaking out across your skin. You sighed airily, shifting your hips across Astarion’s growing erection.

His hands moved with a newfound urgency, hungrily undressing you as he continued to kiss down your chest. The feeling of his lips, teeth, and tongue brushing against your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and weak n his grasp. You moaned softly, arching your back to bring yourself closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Astarion’s fingers trailed across the delicate skin of your stomach, tracing the curve of your hips before sliding beneath the hem of your dress. The fabric caught on his skin, but the hunger in his eyes had never left as he tugged the dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. He ran his hands down your arms, tracing the contours of your shoulders and the delicate lines of your collarbone.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your shoulder as his hands continued to explore you. His breath was cool against your skin and you shivered beneath his touch. He reached around you, undoing the clasp of your corset with practiced ease, revealing the delicate lace of your chemise underneath.

The fabric hung limply, only vaguely hiding the swell of your breast. He traced the edge of the lace with his fingers before running them down your chest, teasingly slow with his motions.

Astarion’s hand found the ties of your chemise, and with a swift tug, it fell away from your body, leaving you sitting atop him in nothing but the dim light of the room. He inhaled sharply, taking in the sight of your naked body, the ever so slight swell of your stomach. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in everything about you.

Oh how you hated when he looked at you this way, as if you were really being loved.

His hands moved once more, this time gently cupping your breast, his thumbs brushing across your nipples as he dragged them down your chest. A low grumble of approval rumbled in his chest as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your skin. His teeth grazed across your pebbled nipples in a slow, deliberate motion, making your legs weak with the idea of him biting the sensitive skin. You cried out softly, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.

The light from the flickering fireplace cast an intricate dance of shadows across his face as he leaned further down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they roamed. His tongue flicked out to taste the salty beads of sweat on your skin, your chest shivering under his exploration.

With one hand, he massaged your breast gently, a feather-light touch that had you aching for more friction. The other hand traced delicate circles down your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers dipped into the curve of your hips, dragging lightly against the silky skin before continuing on to the base of your spine. Each touch was an offering, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Your breath hitched as his lips closed over your erect nipple, sucking it gently. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate blend of pain and pleasure that had you arching beneath him. The room seemed to grow dimmer, as if all the light was being drawn towards the two of you, your bodies moving in the shadows like a dark and sinful dance.

He pulled away slowly, leaving your nipple moist and swollen. Your eyes locked with his, searching for the depths of his soul in the darkness. There was something wild and untamed in his gaze, a hunger that mirrored your own.

With a low growl, Astarion’s arms tightened around you, pulling you down further onto him. You could feel him through his tunic, the rigid length of him against your stomach as he flipped you onto your back, leaving you sprawled across the bed. Now it was your turn to drink him in, to feast your eyes on the strong lines of his body, the chiseled features of his face. He smiled wickedly, glowing with a newfound radiance.

“Mine,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire.

As you gazed into his eyes, you could see a storm brewing, a deep-seated passion that threatened to consume both of you whole. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a flush rose on your skin.

Slowly, Astarion began to move. Slowly, oh so slowly, Astarion raised himself up, his eyes never leaving yours. He undid the laces of his tunic, each tiny movement a deliberate, seductive dance. His muscles glistened with sweat, and you could see the sinewy strength of them rippling beneath his skin.

As he pulled the tunic off over his head, you were treated to quite the show. His broad shoulders, his lean chest tapered into a defined waist, his skin creamy white. Every curve and contour was perfect.

Then he was kneeling again, looking down at you with a look of hunger in his eyes. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest and you could feel the dew beginning to gather between your legs. Your breathing became shallow and rapid, and you could barely control yourself.

His hands began to explore your body yet again, tracing the lines of your curves, the softness of your skin. He kissed your stomach, his movements increasing in intensity until his lips met your navel. With a whimper, you arched your back, inviting him to continue.

His tongue danced over your skin, tracing the curves of your hips, the indentations of your waist. You felt as if you were melting into the bed and the sensation of his touch was enough to make you cry out in pleasure.

He looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re so easy to come undone, my pet,” he teased.

You blushed, your eyes locked on his, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed.

“And you, Astarion, are such a tease,” you retorted, trying to regain some of your dignity.

He chuckled, landing a chaste kiss on your hip. “But you’re the one asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you muttered, your voice catching in your throat, “but you owe me for the hell you put me through.”

His eyes darkened, the hunger in them burning even hotter. “Is that so?” he asked, his tone challenging.

You nodded, your resolve strengthening. “Yes,” you whispered, locking your gaze with his. “You do.”

“You want me to make up for all of that…” he paused, nipping at your hip affectionately. “hell?”

“You’ll never be able to make up for all of the torment you’ve put me through,” you scoffed, trying to keep up the pretense. “But I’ll give you one chance anyways.”

“One chance it is, pet.” Astarion’s eyes sparkled at the challenge, his lips brushing dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “Only if I can take my time, that is.”

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to slowly spread you open with his fingers. The coolness of the air on your heated flesh contrasted with the coolness of his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his fingers delved deeper, gently probing the tight folds of your core. The scent of your arousal filled the air, a heady mixture of musk and sweetness that seemed to intoxicate him by the way he inhaled deeply.

His thumbs brushed against your clit, the light touch sending waves of pleasure radiating outward, causing you to shift your hips in response. Astarion watched, a predatory smile spreading across his face as he took in your reactions.

“Please,” you whined, unabashedly grinding your hips against his fingers.

With a smirk, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of your core. You moaned softly, your hips bucking against his tongue as he began to work his magic.

His fingers continued to tease and torment, stroking and probing, while his tongue delved deeper, caressing your most sensitive spots. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and desperation that left you utterly breathless.

“Please,” you begged, your voice strained. “Please, don’t stop.”

Astarion chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your sensitive cunt.

“I’m not going to stop, pet. I’m just getting started.”

True to his words, he continued his wicked dance, driving you higher and higher towards the edge. You clawed at the cover beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric.

Your entire body felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. You arched against him again, desperate and needy. He met your gaze, his lips still latched to your core, his eyes burning with desire.

He shifted his fingers, thrusting into you suddenly. With a final curl of his middle finger, he hit your sweet spot, causing a burst of pleasure to shoot through you like lightning. Your entire body convulsed, your breath caught in your throat. You cried out in ecstasy, the sound mingling with Astarion’s low growl as he continued to pleasure you.

His tongue didn’t stop, and neither did his fingers. The sensation was completely overwhelming, and you felt as if you were floating, soaring through the heavens. your body shook uncontrollably, every muscle tense and strained. It felt like you were on the brink of something incredible.

And then the wall finally broke. A tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming your senses, your mind, your entire being. You screamed his name, your body trembling violently, the intensity of the orgasm leaving you breathless and weak.

Astarion continued his movements, carrying you through your high. You lay there, panting, the fragility of your body and mind all too exposed.

Finally, Astarion pulled away, his pupils blown wide. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Are you satisfied, my pet?” he asked, his voice all too confident in an answer you hadn’t even given yet.

“I suppose so,” you quipped, your voice still hoarse from your intense release.

Astarion only chuckled, crawling up to lay beside you, his arms pulling you into a soft embrace. You let your eyes flutter shut, comfortably resting in the pale elf’s arms. The more your breathing evened out, your heartbeat becoming softer, you couldn’t help but flit back to the conversation you’d been having before Astarion’s tongue interrupted.

“What would it mean?” you wondered aloud.

Astarion shifted, turning his gaze to you. His hand came up to brush the hair from your face softly, his touch gentle.

“What would ‘what’ mean, pet?” he prodded.

You bit your tongue for a moment before pressing a small kiss to his jaw. He groaned slightly, his hips shifting forward.

Bold of him to act as if you were the desperate one with the way he ground his length against your hips.

You smiled as you continued your trail of kissing, pulling back only when you had landed a kiss in the crook of his neck.

“What would it mean,” you started again, avoiding his gaze. “If you did love me?”

The room was silent for a moment, filled with recognizable tension that hung thick in the air. Astarion looked into your eyes, his own holding a mess of emotions. His struggle was evident as his face flickered between confusion, concern, and longing.

“What would it mean?” he repeated, his voice soft. You felt a pang of sadness, as if the words you spoke had somehow managed to break the affection that had been so delicately woven between you.

You couldn’t see that expression any more, see the conflicted look in his eyes any longer, so you turned away. Instead, you stared at the intricately carved wooden panels of the bed’s headboard.

“Forget I asked,” you stammered. “My logic hasn’t quite come back yet,” you tried to laugh, the sound empty and foreign.

The soft sound of his ragged breath escaped his lips, and you could feel him shift uncomfortably beside you. You knew then he was grappling with his own feelings, ones you weren’t sure would end in your favor.

“What are you doing?” you murmured, feeling him shift further.

Ignoring your question, he gently disentangled himself from your grasp. His eyes avoided yours as he stood up and began to put his clothes back on. The air was heavy with his silence, your muscles growing tense.

You wanted to reach out and grasp his hand, to pull him back into your embrace and offer whatever reassurance you could, but the distance between you felt insurmountable. The weight of his silence settled in your chest, leaving you with a hollow feeling of unease.

He stood there, fully dressed now, his face a mask of conflict and determination. You watched, feeling as if you were peering in on someone else’s thoughts, a world you didn’t belong in.

Slowly, he met your gaze once more, his eyes glazing over with resolve. “It would mean nothing,” he answered, his voice sure.

You looked on numbly as he turned and left the room, your heart dropping to your feet. As the door clicked shut behind him, you felt a profound sense of sadness and confusion.

You thought you had been making progress with him. Slowly growing closer in the little moments you had shared.

So much for that.

“Where did we go wrong?” you muttered to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could dissolve into a puddle of self pity, you heard a gentle knock on your door. You wiped away an errant tear, took a deep, shuddering breath.

“One moment,” you called out.

You expected it to be Evelyn, she often visited to check up with you. Part of you wondered whether she was just worried that you spent too much time alone. Even so, you’d never turn away the company.

You shuffled into a nightgown, throwing the day’s clothes in a pile on the opposite side of the room. You walked to the door, opening it gently. It wasn’t Evelyn behind the door, however. It was the spawn who had carried you into this room when you had first been locked away.

“I’m sorry if this is a bad time,” he offered awkwardly.

“You’re the one who put me in here the first time,” you responded dryly.

“Ah yes,” he chuckled nervously. “Faelar is my name. And I am sorry about that mess. I couldn’t have said ‘no’, even if I had wanted to.”

You sized up the spawn, taking in his appearance. He resembled Astarion in the way all of the spawn did, with his pale skin and white hair. But Faelar seemed softer, less threatening in every way. He was probably a foot taller than your pale elf and yet still came across as unassuming.

“And did you want to?” you questioned. “Want to say ‘no’, that is?”

Faelar flinched slightly, then paused as if to find his words. You studied him more in the silence, wondering to yourself what he had looked like before he had turned into a spawn. His eyes were a bit lighter, even edging on pink instead of crimson. His hair was long and sleek, braided back out of his face.

“I did want to say no,” he responded quietly. “I’ve been wanting to come and apologize, but after seeing the Master storm out the way he did…” Faelar grimaced slightly. “I thought I’d check on you.”

“So he really is that upset,” you whispered, turning away from the spawn. You didn’t want him to see how much Astarion’s actions affected you. No matter how trivial it was.

You sat back on the bed, allowing the exhaustion to slouch your shoulders.

Faelar let out a small awkward sigh, seeming to not know how to respond. You inwardly cringed at how pathetic you must seem to him in this moment.

“Perhaps I can lift your mood,” he suggested, moving closer to you.

“What could you possibly do?” you asked, suspicion tinging your tone.

“I could show you the stars. The roof has quite the view,” he offered.

“I don’t think Astarion would allow that.”

“Then I suppose it will have to be our secret,” Faelar challenged.

Your eyes shot up to his, catching a sly smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but giggle, thankful for the sliver of levity in this whole mess. You thought for a moment, weighing the outcome of sneaking away, even if for a bit.

“Lead the way,” you said finally, blowing out a shaky breath. You stood up slowly, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you. Faelar offered you his arm and you took it gratefully.

As you walked, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. The darkness of the night enveloped you both, casting shadowy shapes around you. Faelar led you to the highest point of the tower, where the opening ceiling broke into a sweeping view of the sky.

As you gazed up into the inky blackness, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder. You never took the time to appreciate the beauty of the world. Between work and being thrown into Astarion’s complicated mess of a world, there was never time.

But here, the stars shone brightly, twinkling like tiny pieces of a vast endless puzzle. Faelar pointed out the constellations, explaining the different stories behind each one. You listened intently, happy to talk about the simpler things in life.

You marveled at the intricate patterns of the stars, each one a story waiting to be told. Your eyes widened with Faelar’s words, taking in the many tales of star-crossed lovers and mythical creatures.

You devolved into a fit of laughter at the one about the clumsy bear who knocked over a pot of stew, and the wise old owl who showed him the way to cook a perfect meal. How that related to a grouping of stars, you couldn’t tell. Faelar’s cheeks flushed slightly at your amusement, he couldn’t seem to help smiling back at you.

“So tell me more about Astarion,” you said, finally bringing up the topic that had been lurking in the background. “You know him well, don’t you?”

Faelar nodded solemnly, giving you a sad smile. “Indeed, I do. He can be quite the mystery sometimes, but life has not been kind to him.”

Faelar hesitated for a moment, as if choosing his words very carefully. He lowered his gaze, his eyes lost in the hazy darkness of the night sky. “You know, he was abandoned by someone he deeply loved,” he murmured.

You shifted slightly, trying to take in his words.

“He hasn’t spoken about it since it happened,” Faelar continued, his voice tinged with sympathy, “But it’s clear by the way he is with you that he isn’t past it.”

“Oh,” you responded, not able to find any other words.

You stayed quiet for the moment, digesting the information as you stared up at the stars. You wondered what Astarion had been through, what kind of person had left him behind. Did he see their face every time he looked at you?

“That must have been difficult,” you wondered aloud.

“Yes,” Faelar sighed. “But he isn’t the first to lose something important to him. Nor is he the last.”

You looked towards Faelar, sensing something deeper in his words. His expression was a stone mask, his gaze focused on something far away.

“Like you?” you asked softly.

Faelar hesitated for a moment, then the corner of his mouth turned upward in a small, sad smile. “Yes,” he said finally. “Like me.”

Sensing his discomfort, you tried to change the subject. “Is that why he’s always so guarded? I mean he says one thing but then his actions say another,” you questioned.

“Perhaps,” Faelar replied, his voice soft and distant. “But that’s not to say he’s incapable of love. He simply needs time to heal, to find the strength to be vulnerable again.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you nodded. “Even if it does complicate things even further.”

Faelar nodded, giving another sigh. As you continued to sit in silence, the vast expanse of the night sky stretched out above you, you felt a little less alone.

You glanced over at Faelar once more, and though he still looked as if he were a million miles away, you could see the emotion in his eyes. You reached out and took his hand, trying your best to give him a comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice growing thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing me up here.”

Faelar gave you a grateful grin, squeezing your hand gently. “You aren’t alone here you know. We may be only spawn, but any of us are here if you need company. Well, maybe any of us but Amastacia,” he chuckled.

You giggled in agreement, feeling a small warmth bloom in your chest.

The wind began to pick up, its whisper rustling wisps of your hair around you. You felt your eyes begin to grow tired, your body falling into sleepiness now that you weren’t as stressed as before.

Faelar’s gaze met yours with a knowing look and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“We should head back,” he suggested, standing up and brushing himself off.

You stood up as well, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. You gave one last look towards the stars, thankful for this moment of peace.

You followed Faelar back down the steps, making your way back to your room. Neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t oppressive. It didn’t take long before you were back before your door, the spawn stopping before he opened it.

“You know,” he started, slightly nervous. “If you’re still feeling a bit isolated, you’re welcome to have dinner with the other spawns and I. We meet every night.”

“Oh I don’t want to intrude,” you smiled shyly. You weren’t quite ready to admit how desperate you were for more company.

“It wouldn’t be an intrusion at all. I’ll come get you tomorrow?” Faelar smiled.

“Tomorrow then,” you relented, smiling gratefully.

With that, he opened the door and paused for a moment. Just as quick, he seemed to shake off the feeling, opening the door wider. You walked in the room, turning and giving him one last smile. He nodded curtly before turning and leaving your room. You watched him go for a moment, then quietly closed the door.

As you made your way to the bed, sleep tugging you ever closer, your eyes snagged on an envelope atop your bedside table.

You rolled your eyes. Did Astarion really think that every situation could be fixed with a sappy note and a hairpin?

But as you flipped open the envelope and pulled out the paper within, your blood ran cold.

In bright red letters, scrawled angrily and in a haste was an obvious threat.

‘Even carrying his heir won’t protect you from your inevitable death.’

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

To be continued - Saturday, April 6th - 8 p.m. CST

Comment here to be tagged in chapter updates

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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