#magistrate astarion x reader

[moonselune]

OMG i think my req sent without finishing :(! So sorry! Could we maybe get a writing snippet where elf tav reunites with Astarion after he became a vampire / post-tadpole?

Magistrate Astarion’s assistant tav became an expert in magic, and runs into Astarion (ascended if you wanted) in the lower city after being gone / pronounced dead for those 200 years?

Omg omg omg this is such a good ask tysm !!

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Ascended!Astarion x Reader | My Dearest Assistant

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The Lower City of Baldur’s Gate was a place of shadows, where the past often resurfaced in unexpected ways. The years had not dulled its chaotic energy, but you had grown accustomed to the winding streets and the constant hum of life that filled them. As you walked through the familiar alleys, your thoughts drifted to memories of a time long past—a time when you had served as an assistant to Magistrate Astarion.

Astarion had been a figure of authority and charisma, a man who had commanded both respect and admiration. He was known for his dedication to protecting the citizens of Baldur’s Gate, a beacon of justice in a city rife with corruption (at least that is what you thought of him - there were some unsavoury rumours that he was a harsh and corrupt magistrate but you simply could not see him that way).

You had worked closely with him, learning the intricacies of the legal system under his tutelage, and in time, you had become an expert in your own right. But then, one day, Astarion had disappeared without a trace. Rumors of his death had circulated, but there had never been any confirmation.

It had been two centuries since that day, and though you had moved on, the memory of him had never truly faded. You couldn't face the legal system after his disappearance, the courts had ruled him dead and you knew - just knew, in your heart that they were wrong, so they had lost your faith.

Due to your disciplined nature, once you had a taste of magic you quickly rose the ranks and became a successful mage in Waterdeep. Though tonight, as you made your way through the Lower City, visiting some old friends of yours. You felt a strange sense of nostalgia. The air was thick with the scent of rain, and the cobblestones glistened under the dim light of the streetlamps. You were lost in thought when a voice, rich and familiar, broke through the night.

“Well, if it isn’t my little apprentice. I never imagined we’d cross paths again.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. The voice was unmistakable, but it was impossible. Slowly, you turned around, and there he was—Astarion, standing before you as if he had stepped out of a dream. He was just as you remembered him, though there was an air of something different about him now, something darker and more powerful.

“Astarion?” you whispered, hardly believing your eyes. “But… you were—”

“Gone?” he finished for you, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Yes, I suppose that’s true, in a way. But I’ve returned, and it seems the fates were kind enough to bring us together again.”

You were overjoyed to see him, your initial shock giving way to excitement. You rushed forward, embracing him without hesitation. Astarion’s arms wrapped around you, and for a moment, you felt the warmth of familiarity, the comfort of a bond that had never truly been broken.

“I thought you were dead,” you said, pulling back to look at him. Your face alight with joy. “Everyone thought you were dead.”

“A rumor I allowed to flourish,” Astarion replied smoothly. “It served its purpose.”

You didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on you, or the hunger that flickered behind his smile. To you, he was still the same Astarion you had known all those years ago, the upstanding magistrate who had fought for the people of Baldur’s Gate, no matter what others said. You had no reason to suspect otherwise.

He invited you to his mansion, and you accepted without hesitation, eager to catch up on all the years that had passed. The mansion was grand and opulent, a testament to his success. As you entered, you marveled at the fine decor, the luxurious furnishings, and the sense of history that filled the place. You couldn't help but note he had many loyal servants, all coincidentally having the same red eyes. A strange coincidence you assured yourself, -perhaps they were just family.

Astarion guided you to a room with high ceilings and ornate chandeliers. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, and a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. You sat together, reminiscing about the past, sharing stories of your adventures and your magical studies.

That night you fell in love with your mentor all over again, he had reached the success you always knew he deserved - you weren't exactly clear on the details on how, but you were happy for him all the same. The rest of the night was filled with heavy flowing wine and reminscing.

But as the night wore on, you felt a growing unease. Something about Astarion’s demeanor had changed—he was more intense, more focused on you than you remembered. When you finally decided it was time to leave, you stood up, thanking him for his hospitality.

“I should be going,” you said, making your way to the grand door. You tried the handle but the door wouldn’t budge. You frowned, trying again, but it was locked.

“Astarion?” you called out, turning back to him. “The door… it’s locked.”

He remained seated, watching you with a predatory gaze. “Yes, it is.”

“Why is it locked?” you asked, a note of alarm creeping into your voice, yet you couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. “Astarion, let me out, we've had plenty of wine tonight.”

He rose from his chair, moving towards you with a slow, deliberate grace. “You’ve always been so diligent, so obedient. My perfect little assistant. I’ve missed that about you.”

“What are you talking about, Astarion?” you demanded, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued to try the handle, only stopeed when Astarion pulled your shoulder and pinned you to the door.

“I find myself in need of your services once more,” Astarion continued, his voice low and smooth. “You see, I’ve come into a new… position, and I could use someone like you by my side. Forever.”

“Astarion, this isn’t funny. Let me out.” You told him firmly, yet your vouce wavered, your panic evident. Like an animal realising it was prey. "We can talk about this another time."

But he didn’t listen. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “You were always so good to me, always so eager to please. You always silenced those naysayers, those who wished to see me fall. Always saw me for the best that I was and I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

There was a darkness in his eyes that sent a chill down your spine. You tried to move, to lunge away, but he was too fast, his hand gripping your arm with a strength that belied his appearance.

“Let me go, please Astarion” you whispered, fear creeping into your voice. But Astarion only smiled, his fangs glinting in the firelight.

“I’m going to give you a gift,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “A gift that will ensure you stay by my side, just as you always have.”

And before you could react, he sank his fangs into your neck, the sharp pain making you gasp. The world around you began to blur as he drank deeply, his hold on you unyielding. You tried to resist, but it was futile—his power was overwhelming, and you felt yourself growing weaker with every passing moment. No magic would help you now.

As the darkness closed in around you, you realized the truth: Astarion was always the man they said he was, not the man you wanted him to be. And now he had becomes something entirely more wicked.

As the world faded, the last thing you heard was his voice, a soft, satisfied whisper in your ear. “Welcome home, my darling. You’ll never leave me again.”

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Heheh silly naive little assistant bless them they only wanted the best for astarion ! Hope you guys enjoyed this if you like anymore ascended content check out the dark masterlist below - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

✦. ── Dark BG3 Masterlist ── .✦

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)

✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.

canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.

The taste of intimacy is acrid.

It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.

Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.

"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."

Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.

Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.

He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.

But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.

This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."

You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.

And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.

Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.

And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.

"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."

Shit. Shit.

"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"

"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."

A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.

Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.

"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."

You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.

"For?"

The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."

"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."

Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.

But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.

He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.

Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.

But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.

Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.

"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."

A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.

You must know something better than him.

Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.

The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.

"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."

There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.

You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.

"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"

Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.

You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.

You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.

The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.

But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.

He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.

When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.

His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"

You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.

"I'm quite relieved."

[hoover1st]

Cruel Intentions

Summary: The young magistrate, Astarion, has used his questionable morals to his advantage. Social climbing and building a reputation in Baldur's Gate. When the prize daughter of one of most influential noble families falls into legal trouble, he seizes his opportunity to get more than a payday out of you... Warnings: MDNI 18+, female!reader, magistrate Astarion, pre-spawn Astarion, smut, cunnilingus, oral [F], overstimulation, office setting, porn with plot, Astarion's intentions aren't pure Word Count: 3k AO3

He fishes into his suit jacket, pulling out a spit-shined pocket watch.  Astarion clicks it open, for what seems like the hundredth time today; stealing a glance at his perfectly manicured hand. He looks great. He always does, but especially today. He has to.

Yes, he was born into his nobility, but he’s worked hard for this opportunity. Social climbing and building a reputation for himself. Who doesn’t like a magistrate? Especially one who isn’t opposed to adjusting his opinions, for the right price.

Astarion smooths his front and tucks the pocket watch away, steeling himself as he looks upon the large ornate estate. He deserves this, he’s worked hard. If he plays this right, being in the good graces of one of the most influential families in Baldur's Gate will set him up for a long time. He’ll be an elite, maybe even move on from magistrate to something better and less taxing.

The ornate pathway is lined with sculptures and gorgeous greenery. Who knows how old some of the artwork is? He walks gracefully up the steps to the grand front door. With a deep breath, he knocks. 

After a moment, the door is answered by a poised elvish male, without missing a beat, the male nods and opens the door wider. 

“Right this way Mr. Ancunin.”

Astarion walks in tow, observing the inside of the estate. It’s gorgeous, this house has been in this family for longer than a human could even begin to comprehend. Astarion lets a polite smile grace his lips as he gazes at the various artwork and decorations, one day he will have something similar. The male brings him to an elaborate sitting room, gesturing towards one of the plush love seats. “I’ll let the master know you’ve arrived, help yourself to some refreshment” 

Astarion settles into the loveseat, pouring some water from the crystal decanter. He sits back, crossing a leg and sipping the water. After a moment, he hears the clicking of heels on marble floors. 

He straightens in his seat, seeing you in all your adorable, noble glory. A thought crosses his mind, you might be just what he needs. He stands up and crosses to you, and a charming smile stretches across his face. He bends at the waist and puts a hand on his chest.

“Astarion Ancunin, how may I be of service to you?”

You outstretch your hand, watching the handsome stranger bring it to his mouth for a feather-light kiss. Your gaze rakes across his attire. He looks nice, the elaborate suit, well-tailored and flattering, his hair perfect. Something about his gaze makes eye contact more difficult than usual. You nod slowly and glance away. 

“Hello, Mr. Ancunin. Thank you for taking the time to meet me here today”

His smile turns sly, sensing your discomfort. You both take a seat, across from one another. He relaxes back, his gaze wandering over your form, observing your rigid posture. 

He hums, “So tell me miss, why do you need the assistance of a magistrate like myself?”

He watches as you scrunch your face in thought, sighing. “It’s a bit embarrassing…” 

he cocks a brow, his grin only growing, “Don’t worry miss, I’ve heard it all~”. 

You purse your lips in thought, “Well you see, I was being courted by a nobleman, he became rather pushy, and after my rejection, we disagreed, resulting in… property damages. He has decided to sue, and I would like the case to be… dismissed”

Astarion nods thoughtfully, you’re so cute and embarrassed. He smirks as you finish. “Seems like you came to the right place, miss, give me the case details and I can make this go away. Can’t go having your family name involved in the courts, can we?” 

You smile softly at his agreement, nodding. “Yes, you understand. It’s a bad look. I’ll provide you with the details right away”

You provide Astarion with the information he needs and stand to say curt goodbyes. Albeit relieved, you can’t help but feel small as he gazes at you, his charming smile not meeting his eyes. The wolfish glint apparent. 

You’re thanking him when he speaks up again. “I’ll need you to sign some documents for me, would you mind coming by my office?”

He watches as your eyes widen at his words and he fights back his smirk, you furrow your brows before responding. “I suppose I can do that, how about tomorrow?”

Astarions grins, nodding. “Yes that would be perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow then, here’s the address”. 

With that, you lead him back to the foyer, feeling his gaze burning into you. You can’t help the way your breath shallows, his closeness quickening your heartbeat. He gives you one last charming smile and you watch him go. The devilishly handsome, and sorely smug magistrate walks with such grace and confidence. Each movement is fluid as he follows the stone path back to the road. Once he’s gone you go back inside and put a hand to your chest, something about Astarion made you feel like you’re on fire. You try to clear your head the rest of the day, attempting to put your racing mind to rest, at least until tomorrow.

Astarions mind is also reeling as he walks through the winding streets. His mind filled with thoughts of the beautiful noblewoman. Just working with your family will boost his social standing, but if he could secure the daughter to one of the most influential families, even for a little while, he’d be set. He can’t keep the wolfish grin off of his face as he plans for the meeting with you tomorrow. He knows he’s attractive, and seeing the way you reacted, he thinks if he plays this well, seducing you shouldn’t be too difficult.

You look nice as you step out of the carriage, and walk into the quaint office. Astarion is already standing, waiting for you. He doesn’t look as proper as yesterday, but somehow ‘handsome’ doesn’t seem to sum him up properly. 

You steel yourself as you follow him into his office, hearing the soft click as he shuts the door. You sit across from him, and he starts to lay out paperwork on his desk, explaining what you’re signing and why he needs it. You nod, trying desperately to focus on his legal jargon rather than the way his forearms flex, or the glint in his sharp eyes. Finally, he hands you a heavy fountain pen. As you start to sign where he instructed, he strikes. 

“Not interested in any of those noble boys huh? Surely they make some good offers for a lady like you?” You are still at his words, furrowing your brows as you busy yourself with the paperwork. You try to keep your voice steady and polite,

“I’m fortunate that my parents aren’t pressuring me for marriage, and that a political elopement isn’t necessary. I haven’t yet found the company of any of the males to be…” you trail off looking for a proper term, but he cuts you off

 “-Pleasurable?”

 You look up from the documents at his word choice. “Um, I suppose you could say that”

You watch as his grin grows and you hurriedly scribble at the papers. He watches you with unabashed amusement. This is going even better than how he practiced it. 

He hums, “That’s quite unfortunate darling. You’d think a proper male would know how to please a pretty girl like yourself”

You glance back at him offering an awkward smile at his compliment, and you finish signing the paperwork. He grins and stands from his chair, leaning over the desk and examining the documents, his movements lazy. As he scans the papers, he hums to himself, his tone careless, “You probably haven’t been properly pleased by any of those shallow noble boys have you doll?”

His words take you off guard, and you swallow, your breathing swallowing at the implications in his words. Your thoughts are racing, yet you’re struggling to come up with a clever response, really any response.

Astarion’s wolfish grin widens at your gaping mouth and wide eyes. He slowly sets the papers down and moves around the desk. Astarion’s movements are slow and predatory, he leans back against the front of the desk, looking down at you. 

His voice a purr, “So it’s true? You poor doll. If you’d be interested, I might know a way to solve such an issue”.

You stare up at him, suddenly feeling like the office is growing smaller around you. You feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Is he saying what you think he is? After a beat of gaping up at him with those gorgeous wide eyes, you reply, your voice concerningly hoarse and quiet. “What exactly do you mean Astarion?”

Astarion fights against the amusement in his expression, responding coyly “I can help you, darling, these services are different, free of charge. I’m not like those other boring noble boys, give me a chance, and I’ll show you how pleasurable a male presence can be”

He moves in closer, pushing off the desk so that he’s now trapping you into the wooden chair. Leaning in, his face is so close, his eyes narrowed and his smirk widens. 

As you meet his intense gaze, you can’t help the bob in your throat. After a moment of your utter speechlessness he responds, his voice softer. “Aw doll, I didn’t mean to overstep, I was just offering”

He starts to pull away, and something clicks in you as you finally find your voice “Wait no… you didn’t overstep..”

At your protests, he stops and crouches down in front of your chair so he’s now looking up at you. Those gorgeous eyes of his raking across your body before settling back onto your face. “No? Would you like me to help you, darling?”

Your racing mind clouds, seeing him crouched down before you, and without thinking, you’re nodding. At this, he smirks and takes your hands in his, standing back up, and pulling you with him. “I wouldn’t dream of touching a lady without permission. Say it, that you’d like my assistance.”

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, your hands feeling clammy in his, with a gulp you respond quietly. “Okay… please help me Astarion”

At your confirmation he moves his hands up your arms, then slowly down your back until they rest on your waist, his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He gently spins you, walking you backward until you’re leaning against the desk.

His head goes down to your neck, his breath hot, sending shivers down your spine. After a tantalizing moment, he closes the space and lightly kisses your neck, his hands moving down to your thighs, gently picking you up and setting you atop the wooden desk. Astarion smiles as he feels you react to his ministrations.

This is going exactly how he wanted it to. It was so easy, you’re right where he wants you, all he has to do now is make sure he can deliver on his promises of pleasure, and he’ll have you, a valuable ace, right in his back pocket. 

His hands wander, growing more intense, you don’t know what to do with yourself, your hands supporting you on the desk, your breathing shallower, your senses zoned into his fiery touch. 

He starts to move upward, but decides against it; kissing you would be cruel. So he moves down, peppering your neck and collarbone, his hands gripping your hips and thighs.

As he moves downward, murmuring breathy praise into your skin, his hands work to hike your gown upwards. Pushing the heavy fabric until your soft legs are revealed to him. He looks back up at you in confirmation, then grabs your hips, pulling you to the edge of the desk, and forcing you onto your elbows. 

Astarion takes a step back, his gaze eating you alive, he has to admit, this isn’t an undesirable moment for him either. You’re gorgeous, even with the white undershorts still concealing you. He feels his hunger grow as he kneels between your legs, spreading them gently.

He looks up at you with a smirk, all it takes is the slow nod of your head, with those lidded eyes, and his fingers are lacing with the band of your undergarments. 

His pace is painfully slow, but he finally rids you of them, the groan he lets out isn’t an act. The sight of you bare to him… he stares for a moment, feeling the restriction in his slacks. He kisses up your legs, moving them to rest on his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he pulled you closer, his breath fanning against your core.

He closes his eyes in bliss as he breathes you in. After peppering a couple more kisses around your cunt, he moves in closer,  flattening his tongue against your core, licking up to your throbbing bud. You shudder and your thighs tighten instinctively around his head, pulling him closer. Your head falls back, letting out a breathy whine at the contact.

You taste divine, like nothing else he’s ever tasted, and he can’t help the low groan that rips from his throat.

He intended to be slow and tantalizing, hearing you beg for him would grow his ego like logs on a fire, but it doesn’t take long before he gets lost in the sensation of you and it feels like he could be the one begging.

He practically drowns himself in you, drinking you like his favorite wine, feeling intoxicated by the smell and taste.

The room is filled with the breathy whines and groans of the two of you, a tension-fueled duet.

Astarion rubs his legs together as he eats, desperate for any form of friction. His fingers dig into your thighs as they squeeze his head. 

Your senses are in overdrive, your hands clench into tight fists, your heels digging into his back. Feeling his groans vibrate against you, feeling the desperation of his mouth against you, it’s all too much. You can feel that cord deep in you tighten, about to snap.

He doesn’t let up, his movements never slowing. His sharp nose pressing into you. He’s relentless in his assault on you. Astarion loses himself in you. He’s forgotten the plot. His only focus now is on the pleasure he’s deriving. Stealing glances up at your panting, flushed face. The way your chest heaves and legs shake, your whines more beautiful than anything he’s ever heard.

Your reactions only spur him on. He doesn’t care about anything outside of your collective pleasure. He’s fervent, not even caring to hold in his groans.

You’re on the brink, teetering on that edge, at any moment you’re about the snap.

Astarion senses you growing closer, and he can’t take it anymore, moving a hand away from your thigh to palm himself through his pants. 

Astarion is mumbling incoherent praises against you, so lost is the high of you. You feel yourself about to snap and with one last push from Astarion, you feel yourself reeling off the edge.

Astarion laps like a madman, helping you ride out your high. The noises and reactions you’re making do him in, and with a low groaning grunt he spills, his face still buried in between your legs.

You’re reeling as both come down from your highs, your chests still heaving. Astarion slowly stands up, admiring his work. He looks like a fallen angel, his perfect white hair is sweaty and stuck to his forehead. His face is covered in your slick as he grins breathlessly down at you. You feel like you would fall over if it weren’t for your elbows still supporting you.

His eyes are gleaming with satisfaction. He gives your open legs one last glance before gently pulling your dress back down over your legs. Astarion moves closer and gently pulls a strand of hair out of your face, a hand snakes around your waist and he pulls you up and into him.

Your forehead pressed against his chest, a hand rubs lazy circles into your back, the other cupping the back of your head. His voice is soft and amused, “Better Darling?”

Not knowing what to say, you just nod slowly into his chest. He holds you for a long moment, and you finally clear your throat, sitting up, averting your gaze from him. “I believe my carriage is waiting…”

At your words, he helps you off the desk and hands you the long discarded undergarments with a grin, “Of course doll. Once the case is dismissed, I’ll swing by for my payment”

You look up at him, embarrassed as you slip on the shorts. There’s something about the way he says “payment” that makes you think he’s not just talking about gold. With a nod, you swallow and head for the door. He holds it open and watches you leave in a flustered frenzy. His eyes never avert, not until you get into the carriage out in front of the office. 

Once you’re gone, Astarion glances down at himself. A wet spot forming in his nice slacks; an unfortunate reminder of how much he enjoyed himself, maybe even more than you did. He plops down into his plush chair with a huff, a hand running through his hair. 

This might be a bit more complicated than he initially thought…

(Thank you for reading <3, This is the second fic I’ve ever written, if you have any constructive criticism please give it to me! Also, the cover art is mine, and I did watch Cruel Intentions while writing this)

[docilefleur]

ok…..i literally NEVER post on here i just lurk but i am desperate. astarion fic writers pls make a magistrate!astarion fic where him & reader are together (dating, engaged, married however u wanna do it) before he gets attacked & turned by cazador and then him and reader reunite after however long and its just a big sappy mess i am BEGGING

[scrapsovereign]

I wrote a smutty one shot because I wanted to sin outside of the longer fic I’m working on and felt like I needed the practice.

I Think He Knows

Link to story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55385323

Astarion comes home early unexpectedly as a week long case wraps up before lunch.

He is going to scold you for leaving your dirty adventuring gear in a heap downstairs, but is so happy you're home he almost forgets all about it.

Until he sees what you were doing in his dirty clothes in your freshly changed bedsheets…

(POV female Reader x Magistrate Astarion/3k words of straight up filth underneath the cut)

You were so close to your climax, rubbing and thrusting the soft, spongy spot inside of your entrance with your fingers when you heard the jingling sound of the front door opening.

Shit.

“Darling, home from your adventuring so soon?” The voice of your beloved calls out to you, the musical words carried up the stairs by the acoustics of your shared townhome.

How are you home so early? What in the nine hells- how is he home so early? He sounded fairly confident in the sending spell he replied to as you made your way within the final stretch of the road home that jury deliberations were going to take at least until the end of the day.

You can hear him grumble unintelligible words of disapproval at the filthy armor you had peeled off shortly after you arrived home and left on the floor of the foyer.

“Adventuring gear strewn about the floor again? My sweet, we’ve talked about this…”

Your heart pounds from his scolding and you sit up in bed, covering your drenched thighs with the soft, clean linens of the duvet. Hands wet with the slick of your arousal work swiftly to halfway fasten the buttons of his dirty work shirt that you blamed for the cause of your activities after you had arrived home early.

The stairs creak under the weight of his feet as he makes his way up to your shared bedroom.

Running your hands through your hair, you try to smooth out the area that had been frizzled by your rutting, wiping the sweat off your brow.

You can feel a heat wash over you when you flush at the sight of your husband whisking around the corner of the hallway in irritation, black silk robes floating behind him as he sharply turned the corner. He was always gorgeous, but there was something irresistible about him in his magistrate garb- even more so when he would take it off.

An involuntary clench rocks your body forward when you notice he had already begun the process of undressing on his way up the stairs. His flawlessly pressed shirt had been undone a few buttons to the middle of his chest, reading glasses hanging down from a single breast pocket on his waistcoat. You followed the trail down his lithe frame to his fine silver and black leather belt, down the lines of immaculately tailored trousers.

Whatever temper that had flared in him melts away just as quickly as it had arrived. After a very long week of going through the motions without you at his side, the ache in his chest that set in with your absence fills with a warm light at the sight of you in your bed. You are finally home.

The intensity of the look you share while he stands in the doorway makes you suddenly aware of how your nipples felt brushing against the fine linen of his filthy shirt as you breathe…and the throbbing sensation between your legs.

“My brave heroine, have you returned from your travels victorious?” He lilts, sauntering over to you.

“Even if we had found the mountains of gold rumored to exist underneath the City, it wouldn’t compare to the treasure that awaits me when I return.”

You capture his face with your hands when he looms over you, drawing him to stand at the edge of the bed. You shift your hips and move your legs so that the insides of your knees are touching the finely woven and expensive wool of his trousers.

“Clever little thing, using my own honeyed words against me.”

When your lips meet his, it is so perfect, so sweet that it tugs the strings of your heart. You pull away momentarily before slanting your mouths hungrily against each other. A half-lidded, lusty gaze from him and a ragged breath from you snap you both together like two ends of a magnet.

Your tongues glide against each other in concert as you kiss deeply, devouring each other now that you have broken your fast. You catch his tongue in your mouth and suck on it like you would his cock, eliciting an obscene groan that vibrates in the back of his throat.

He reaches up to pinch your nipples through his shirt, disarming you as you squeal and pull away. Dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, he chuckles at the filthy moan it draws out from you.

He pauses, his expression flattening as he sniffs the fingers that clutch his face. Suspicious eyes point downward at your uncovered lap, focusing on the sheen that coats the inside of your thighs in a vertical line. His pointed ears perk up and you sharply inhale as he nips the finger that had been inside of you minutes ago.

“Well, well. Couldn’t wait until I returned home? You naughty girl,” he grits out, squeezing your hands that rest on the side of his face. You clench again at his scolding, maneuvering your legs to rest inside of his to hide the rest of the evidence, pressing your knees tightly together.

“Perhaps I wanted to be ready for you when you returned home,” you purr out, surging forward to take his lower lip in between your teeth. Your front teeth clack together as he pulls away from you, straightening up with a dark, throaty chuckle.

“You’re a terrible liar, darling,” he turns away to drape the fine, obsidian silk of his magistrate robes over the same dressing bench you had found his perfumed and discarded shirt. Next, he removes his waistcoat in a similar fashion, placing his reading glasses with care on the bedside table next to you.

“While I am grateful that you never developed the skill for deception, you seem to have forgotten how well I know your particular brand of foolishness,” he takes the cufflinks out of his sleeves and rolls them up, tugging at the ends to ensure they are secured. You bite your lip and lean back on your hands in anticipation of what’s to follow. He has you trained like a pet, needy and eager for his touch.

“It seems a reminder is in order,” Astarion breathes out, running both his hands up your knees, over the tops of your thighs. He grasps the crest of your hips, a perfect handle for him to guide and manipulate your movements.

He revels in seeing you like this, desperate for his touch. You gasp out in surprise when he digs his fingers in, yanking you forward towards him.

“Have you forgotten how we would rip the armor off each other after battle back in our adventuring days? How we could barely make it upstairs at the inn or into our tents after a long day on the road?” He kneels down in front of you while he issues the reminder. You match his eye level as he speaks and lean back on your arms, watching Astarion slowly pry your legs apart.

“After the very last job we completed together you blamed the adrenaline rush that consumed you for your voracious appetite, almost stroking me to completion under the table at the Elfsong,” He kisses a line up your thighs, his lips lingering on you as he moves closer towards your drenched core.

“What can I say? I’m cursed to put my hands on everything. If I remember correctly, your hand was also up my skirt, doing the same thing- hah! That was a good night. My favorite part was when you fucked me in the alley later against the walls of the tavern.”

He pauses at your recollections, his face having reached the apex between your thighs. You crane your head up to see his eyes peeking above the crest of your sex, half-lidded and cloudy with lust.

“Cursed to put your hands on everything, you say?” Astarion rumbles out, gently moving your legs wider as he presses his lips to the corner of the inside of your thighs.

“Could you be a good girl for me and keep your hands to yourself while I pleasure you?”

You felt his warm tongue then, lapping and sucking along your tender flesh. Throwing your head back, you gasp at the sensation, rolling your hips forward. He suddenly withdraws his mouth with a pop, giving you a wicked look before languidly running the flat of his tongue against your slick, soaked outer lips.

Your wandering hands that had begun to card through his silver curls tense and freeze above him while he languidly licks up and down your center, the sensation driving you mad.

You need more.

Grasping the back of his head, you make an attempt to mash your engorged clit against his nose with a sudden upwards thrust of your hips, whining in desperation when you feel the sudden loss of him pull back from you.

“Ah-ah, what did I say, little love?” he tuts, delivering a single, punishing flick of his middle finger to your clit.

The only response he receives is you sobbing out his name, your back arching with the pain and pleasure of his correction. He leans on his elbow on the side of the bed and looks up at you expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

“Delicious as that was, I believe I am still owed a different reply,” he repeats the motion and you throw your head back, keening as you undulate your back against now rumpled bedsheets.

“Hells, Astarion, it’s not like I’m on trial,” you complain breathlessly. He perks up suddenly and rests a hand underneath his chin, the other drawing lazy circles on your hip, a villainous twinkle in his eye as he regards you with bemusement.

Uh oh.

“Now there’s an idea, love,” he drawls out, drumming his fingers on the crest of your hip. The tapping of his fingers unexpectedly feels good…really good. The percussion elicits a small roll upwards from your hips to meet them.

“...There’s an idea indeed. But we can’t have you showing up to your court date still filthy from the road, can we? In the tub you go, up you pop,” he orders, holding his hands out to you.

Once you are sitting on the bed, arms raised above your head, he lets go suddenly. The motion leaves you confused until you feel the barest touch of his fingers tracing up your sides. He collects the edges of his rumpled shirt, raising it above your head. Hastily throwing it aside, his hands return to cup your full and aching breasts. Thumbs draw lazy circles around your pert nipples, you hear him hum in appreciation when they pebble and harden with his touch.

“Can you stand up for me, beautiful?” You sat forward, feeling only a little unsteady on your feet from the orgasm that you were so recently denied as you rise.

Your mouth opens in surprise when Astarion sweeps you up in his arms. He carries you to the tiled bathing room, setting you down in the tub while he activates the enchantments that fill it with rapidly with warm water.

He wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it slowly from his chest. You watch him make quick work of removing his clothing with practiced ease. He enters the waters of the bathing tub with you in a fluid motion, denying your hungry gaze the view of his naked form that it so desperately craves.

He takes a sponge sitting on a built-in ledge on the wall and soaks it in the water, ringing it out. He swipes it sensually up the side of your breasts, slowly down your neck. Maneuvering you to face away from him, you gasp out as he perches your slippery sex upon on his thigh. The sponge goes down below the water and you chase your pleasure rutting along him while he brushes in long strokes up and down your abdomen, to the bottom of your breasts, gently kissing the side of your neck.

You’re an absolute mess. You grasp the edge of the tub, head thrown back against Astarion’s shoulder in ecstasy, breasts bobbing up toward the surface of the water.

“Please, please Astarion…” you gasp out, a pressure building in your core as you rock along the alabaster expanse of his thigh, your legs spreading wider underneath the water.

“Please what, darling? Use your words,” He licks a line from your neck, up to your sensitive ears, nipping and sucking along the cartilage. You cry out softly at the sensation, squirming in his lap.

“I need you inside me…please,”

Astarion presses a kiss to your shoulder and looks around the would be peaceful and quiet bathing room. Lazy rays of the mid-day sunlight stream in through the sheer window treatments that illuminated the tiled and grouted surfaces of the floors and walls. At this time of day, he would be going through cases and preparing notes to bring with him to his next session at the beginning of the next tenday.

Seizing the opportunity his pause brings, you grasp his hand in yours, plunging it down below the water, the destination between your legs.

You hear a knowing chuckle behind you when he slips free of your grasp with an effortless rotation of his wrist. He encircles you with strong arms, nimble fingers pinching both of your nipples tightly. He smiles devilishly as you moan and writhe against him. Now that you’re cleaned up, it’s time to get dirty again.

“Mrs. Ancunin. As it stands, you are being accused of pleasuring yourself while you are filthy on our freshly cleaned sheets. How do you plead?” He practically growls out the last few words, the change in timbre sending a shiver up your spine.

“Ah! Not guilty…”

Astarion bites a sensitive spot on the side of your neck that he knows drives you absolutely insane. He flicks his tongue over your skin, delighting in your sobs of frustration.

“Not guilty your…?” he asks in between swipes of his tongue.

“Your honor” you gasp out, gripping the seat of the tub beneath the water with white knuckles.

“Present your proof to the court.” He nips at the crook of your neck.

“I was…uhm…technically ‘resting’ when you got home. I didn’t know the sheets were freshly changed. And…I almost stood on my own just now without falling down…so if it’s all the same to you-” you lift your hips and angle them so that you are almost successful at impaling yourself on his twitching cock. He catches you at the waist, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Wicked thing. Are you ready for your verdict?” He tuts, lowering you just enough so that your slick and throbbing entrance is barely grazing along the tip of his penis.

“Yes, your honor,” you gasp, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“On the count of pleasuring yourself while you are filthy, I find you guilty.” He whips you around to face him and hungrily claims your lips, still holding you above him. He moans greedily in to your mouth as you try to grind down on him again, he’s not sure how much longer he can resist you. You're so eager, so responsive, and all his.

You break the kiss by successfully dragging your teeth over his lower lip.

“And my sentence, your honor?”

He releases your waist.

“Ride me.”

You both groan out and curse in mutual relief as you plunge down on his length. Your walls are already beginning to tighten around him, pulsating with the lewd sounds that you both make, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathing room. Astarion growls at the sight of your breasts that slap against the surface of the water and the feeling of your walls milking his cock.

He grabs your ass and yanks you forward, positioning you over him that his mouth is on your breast, licking and sucking your sensitive nub. He slams up into you, moving your hips up and down on him, guiding himself deeper. You feel the rumble of his ecstasy bring you closer to your peak as you sob out with pleasure at the change of movement and pace.

“Gods, Astarion I’m so close,” you’re so perfect, so tight around him-

“Then let go, my sweet.”

The spasming of your walls against him send him over the edge with you. His eyes roll to the back of his head, moaning your name in euphoric relief. The profane noises of his release, sensation of his warm seed shooting into you, his cock spasming inside of you brings you to the peak again.

“I can’t stop, Astarion, I can’t…ahhhh!”

A second wave crashes through you. He continues to fuck you through your drawn out orgasm, marveling at how beautiful you are unraveling in his arms. Slowing the pace he kisses you again, savoring the taste of you as your hips gradually slow down and lift off of him.

Giving him a satisfied sigh, you nuzzle your forehead into his neck.

“And they both went to horny jail and lived happily ever after.”

“Technically, it would be prison. Jail is for holding the accused prior to sentencing my love,” You grumble and nip his ear in irritation at the reminder.

Astarion laughs softly, kissing the side of your flushed and sweaty face.

“What do you say we dry off and take this to the other room? I’d like to request a hearing to negotiate an early…release,” you nip and suck your way along the line of his pointed ears, eliciting a new series of debauched noises from his lips.

“You’re insatiable,” he says with a smile, throwing his head back in bliss.

He wraps your legs around his waist, supporting your back with his strong, lean arms as he stands the two of you up. You watch the water drain away with his utterance of the correct enchantments under his breath.

“Early release is only granted for good behavior, prisoner- which you haven’t demonstrated since you arrived home. I hope you’re ready for your punishment.”

[kittenintheden]

magistrate switch bitch fic coming soon. soon.

in the meantime, a snack.

[comatosebunny09]

*gently takes your hand, leading you to a bench.*

Come sit with me, my friend. I’ve something to discuss.

Magistrate!Astarion, on his way to a ruling one morning, gets hung up by a pickpocket who swipes his pocket watch.

He chases down the crafty thief on some parkour-type stuff, jumping over carts, running through markets and chicken coops, etc. It’s uncommon for nobles to engage in such things, so for the first time in a long time, he’s enjoying himself.

Eventually, Astarion catches up with the pickpocket, a triumphant smile on his face as he holds their offending wrist with his watch in their hand. A crowd starts to gather as people begin to realize, Hey! That’s a magistrate! What in the hells is he doing?

Astarion, suddenly self-aware, loses his grip on the thief, and they slip away with a roguish smile, waving his pocket watch in a manner that suggests they’ve won. He doesn’t bother chasing them, shrugging it off as a loss.

Fast-forward to later that afternoon.

Astarion has a date with someone his parents set him up with—honestly, he sees no need in courting anyone. But his parents insist that, as their only son, he must continue the Ancunín bloodline. So he humors them if only to shut them up.

He’s led into some nobleman’s home to meet with his date by the maids. He’s shocked to see a familiar face when he enters through the doors of the parlor. This time, the face isn’t partially shrouded by a hood and grime. And they look a hell of a lot more prim and proper here than they did on the street.

The pair play nice with each other in front of their parents, throwing little jabs at each other under the pretense of flirting. Eventually, the pair of them are left alone to get better acquainted. That’s when Astarion makes his move, darting towards the person he’s to court, snatching up their wrist, a snarl on his face.

“My watch,” he quietly seethes. “Give it back!”

His potential mate, revealed to be Tav, laughs impishly in his face, trying vainly to snatch back their hand. “Like you haven’t the money to buy another, Magistrate.”

“It’s an heirloom! A gift from my grandfather!”

“Ha! You don’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

“And you don’t strike me as a grubby little street urchin who steals for fun! Yet, here we are.”

Cue the pair of them glaring daggers at each other, neither willing to yield to the other.

Slowly, it dawns on them that this is has the makings of a beautiful rivalry friendship.

[honeybeebard]

Missing Files (Astarion x Lilith)

Summary// After sneaking into a young magistrate’s office to find some files that she desperately needs to get rid of, Lilith is forced to play the newly hired secretary when said magistrate catches her red-handed. What could go wrong?

(After finding this art piece by @BloodOathLilith on twitter, I immediately became obsessed and had to write a fic based on her Tav and Astarion. This is before he was turned, obviously, and will contain a filthy amount of smut with some plot at the top. I hope you guys enjoy it, and PLEASE GO FOLLOW HER ON TWITTER AND OTHER SOCIALS. SHE IS AMAZING OKAY, BYE)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+ only, Degradation, Choking, Pet Names

“Where the fuck is it?” She mumbles to herself, combing through the files on top and inside the desk. The office was full of clutter and chaos, making it even more difficult as she desperately searched for her name on anything. Time was ticking, and if she didn’t find it soon, she would find herself in the jails below before dawn tomorrow.

The outfit she had stolen from one of the shops was itchy on her skin as she pulled at the collar of the dress, a growl rumbling in her chest as she swore and chucked the nearby pile of papers into the wall. It was helpless. She could barely make out any of these words, so how in the hells was she going to find her name?

As she turned to find some grease and a match, her last ditch attempt to burn any evidence of herself along with the rest of the office, a lone paper by the lamp caught her eye. Lilith’s eyes widened as she snatched it, her lips forming into a grin as she made out the letters of her name. 

“Fucking knew it.” She smirked, kissing the paper and making her way to the door until she saw the knob turn slowly. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

That was the only thing running through her mind as she searched for an escape, her fists curling as she saw the window to be too small and the dresser to be too full to hide in. She hurriedly shoved the paper behind her back as the door fully opened, revealing a handsome man dressed in some of the finest silk she had ever seen. 

He glances around the office, eyebrows raised as he takes in the damage she has done before his eyes land on her. The color took her breath away, a cerulean blue that reminded her of summer skies that she trained under as a child. He stood tall, confident, though she knew they were almost the same height. 

“And you are?” The man asked, his tone light as he cocked his head slightly. She bit down on her lip, focusing back on the problem and not how unbelievably attractive he was for a godsdamn magistrate. 

“I, um,” She frowns, looking down at her dress as if it held the answer. “I was just in here because-”

“Let me guess,” He sighs, crossing his arms as Lilith prepares to be revealed. “The courts decided to send me a new secretary without warning me. Again. And just let you into my office?”

Lilith swallowed, trying to decipher if he was serious or if he was tricking her, before nodding slowly. “...Yes?”

The man rolled his eyes and walked past her, their shoulders brushing, which sent her mind buzzing as she followed him with her gaze. He glanced at his desk, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, before looking at her once more. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? An invitation?” His tone was sharp as he waved at the stack of paperwork. “Get to work. These need to be organized.”

She hesitated, gripping her documents still held behind her tightly as she said, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how you want me to organize these. I think I shall go fetch you another secretary, someone more suited for-”

“Nonsense, don’t go bother someone else for a job that an idiot could do. Just do it.” He grumbled, sitting in the plush chair as he began to scribble on the parchment in front of him. Lilith, not wanting to risk anything, sat down on the small chair beside the desk and gingerly lifted the file at the top.

It mentioned something about Baldurs Gate, Nine Fingers, and some other words that she could not pronounce. She tried to sound them out in her head, her eyebrows furrowed before the paper was snatched out of her hand suddenly. 

“Did I say read them?” He said, glowering. “No. I said file. As in file them away. Gods, are you always this dense?”

“I am not dense!” She protested, glaring as she stood up abruptly. “Maybe you are since you can’t seem to keep a thing organized in here. No wonder you need help.”

Lilith immediately regretted the words the second they came out, her heart lurching as the man stood up and placed both of his palms on the table with a dangerous glint in his eyes. 

“Do you know who I am?” He asked mockingly, raising a brow. “I am Astarion Ancunin, the youngest and brightest magistrate Baldurs Gate has seen in years. I could have you thrown in the cells like that.” He snapped his fingers, his smile deadly. “I’ve had people thrown in for much less, my dear.”

She felt sweat forming on her forehead as she shook her head in apology, backing up to the door. “My mistake, Astarion, I-”

“That’s Mr. Ancunin to you, love.” He cooed, stalking around the desk. “Such bad manners for a woman dressed so lovely. It makes me wonder if you are who you say you are.” The doorknob was within her grasp, but before she could twist it, he had her pinned against the door, his arms caging her in as he sneakily stole her file from behind her. Lilith’s eyes widened as she reached for it, gasping when his hand wrapped around her throat and shoved her back. 

“Ah, so this is why the snake was in the garden.” Astarion hummed, red lips turning up into a smirk. “Looking to avoid punishment for a whole list of crimes…tsk, tsk. What are we going to do with you?”

“Let me go peacefully so that my dagger doesn’t end up buried in your throat?” She says sweetly, her eyes dark as he throws his head back and laughs. 

“What happened to the sweet, innocent secretary standing here moments ago? Or do you give up that quickly?” He taunts, tightening his grasp as she struggles against him. “I have your life in my hands, darling. I think you ought to tread carefully lest you draw even more attention to yourself than petty theft charges.”

Lilith snarled, baring her teeth as she tried and failed to snatch the paper once more. “Let me go, or I swear by the blade, I’ll stain this entire room with your blood.”

Before she could lunge again, Astarion deftly flipped her around so that her front was now pressed against the oak of the door, his body leaning into hers as his breath ghosted over her ear, “Temper, temper, little one, I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

She couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine from his touch and his scent, rosemary and bergamot wine, filling her nose until her vision felt fuzzy. His hands were now roaming her waist, his touch hot despite the layers separating them, but just as her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments, she realized too late what he was doing. 

Astarion stealthily stole her only weapon, dodging her angry fist with ease as he took a step back and twirled it between his fingers. Lilith, without hesitation, ran towards him to tackle him, only to trip over her own skirts and fall to the floor.

Until the snarky, white-haired magistrate caught her, of course. 

“Sloppy.” He stated with disdain, his face inches from hers as she glared up at him. “I’m prepared to offer you a deal. A quid pro quo, if you will.”

“A quid what?” She scrunches her nose, looking at him strangely as he rolls his eyes again and pulls her up to his height with ease.

“Quid pro quo, darling. Tit for tat.” He explains, eyes glancing down to her lips before back up to her face. “I detest thieves and liars, always ready to lock them away to better our society, but there is something about you…”

She flinches instictevley as the back of his knuckles brush against her cheek, testing the waters. Lilith’s lips parted for him as he turned his hand over so his thumb could capture her bottom lip, teasing the soft flesh as the air around them became electric.

“Do we have a deal, little thief?” Astarion murmured, his grip on her tightening. She watched him, weighing her options though she already knew what she was going to do as the heat of her cunt seemed to turn into an inferno. 

“Yes,” She agreed, her tone breathless. “Please.”

Astarion’s lip curled into a smirk at how pliant she had become. He let her go, watching as she fell to her knees before him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She looked up at him, hands on his thighs, and a slight nod was all she needed to free him from his breeches. 

Lilith’s mouth watered as she saw the outline of his cock through his boxers, her hands greedily pulling them down so she could get to work. He was long with a little girth, his tip red and leaking as she took him all the way down her throat. She couldn’t stop the pride swelling up when he cursed and fisted his hands in her hair, obviously caught off guard.

“Fuck, darling,” He groaned, nails digging into her scalp as she set a slow, sensual pace. “You’re good at this.”

The praise made her preen inside as she ran her tongue from the bottom up on the underside of his cock, flicking it at the tip and causing him to shudder and thrust forward. She choked but only for a moment, relaxing her body so that she could take him. 

She didn’t know how this situation had ended up like this, especially after the threats from both of them, but she wasn’t about to refuse such a gift. Especially when it came with her freedom and a hot elf’s cock in her mouth. 

“Mmmph!” Lilith moaned, the vibrations making Astarion gasp and pull at her hair again. The pain was mixing intoxicatingly with her pleasure, one of her hands hastily shuffling her skirts so she could sink two fingers into herself. 

“That’s right, little thief, touch yourself for me.” Astarion snarled, biting his lip when she raised her eyes to watch him. He could already feel his balls tightening with the urge to cum just from that sinful gaze. “Fuck yourself on your fingers, wishing it was my cock ruining that pretty pussy.”

His words made her pull off his cock for a second and whine loudly, curling her fingers as she chased her own high. Astarion, however, wasn’t having any of that as he wound her hair in his fist and yanked it back painfully. “Ah, ah, this is for me, darling. Remember your place.”

He grabbed his cock and rubbed it across her cheek, smearing the mixture of her saliva and his precum across her alabaster skin before shoving it roughly back into her mouth. Lilith didn’t care, though, her brain hazy as he fucked her mouth. 

She continued to watch him as he ruined her, her eyes teary and bleary as his movements started to grow sloppy. He growled above her, lips pulled back in a primal snarl as he waited until he was almost to the edge to pull out. 

Astarion didn’t give her time to react as he yanked her up and shoved her back to face the door, lifting her skirts and pushing aside her underwear in one fluid motion before he lined himself up with her dripping hole.

“I want to hear your cries, little thief, as I fuck you like you deserve.” He grunted into her ear, biting the tip of her pointed ear as he pushed himself all the way in with one thrust. The sensation of being stuffed full and his teeth grazing her ear made her see stars, her mouth hanging open as her nails dug into the wood door.

“Fuuuck…” She moaned, panting as he wasted no time in fucking her hard and rough. He was hitting spots inside of her she didn’t even realize she had, the feel of him dragging through her walls making her toes curl. “Feels so good, Astarion.” 

He tensed for a moment at the use of his name before relaxing again, moving one of his hands to cup her face and turn it to the side so he could see how desperate she was. 

“Look at how well you take your punishment, how wet your cunt is for a stranger's cock.” His tone was teasing, but she could hear how breathless he was as well, his other hand drifting to her clit. “You love this, don’t you…Lilith?”

“Fuck yes!” She cried out, her back arching as he rubbed small, fast circles on her clit. “Please, shit, please go faster.”

“Greedy little thief,” Astarion growled into her ear, pinching her clit between his fingers as he fucked her as if his life depended on it. The sound of his balls slapping against her wet sex echoed across his office as he felt that familiar tightening in his abdomen. “Do you want me to cum inside you, darling? Leave you dripping a trail all the way back home?”

“Gods, yes!” Lilith pleaded, her face red and eyes desperate as she watched him. “Fill me up, fuck me, I don’t care, just don’t stop!”

“I have no plans to, darling.” He chuckled, rubbing her clit once more until he could feel her start to flutter around his cock. It only took a few more circles until she was crying out his name, her eyes rolling back in earth-shattering euphoria. Astarion was right behind her, his hands falling to seize her hips as he thrust one, two more times before stilling as he coated her walls. 

“That was…” He panted, looking up at the ceiling. “Amazing.”

Lilith could only nod, her legs shaky as he gingerly pulled out and fixed her outfit. She rested against the door for a moment, collecting herself from the best orgasm she had ever had, unbeknowing that Astarion was doing the exact same thing.

When she finally turned around, she was surprised to see how fast he had fixed his outfit and hair. Almost no evidence that he had just fucked her brains out thirty seconds ago. Well, except for the slight flush to his face. 

He licked his lips and picked up her forgotten file from the floor, tearing it in two and handing it to her with a smirk. “A deal is a deal, darling. You are free to go.”

“Well, um,” She hesitated, crumpling the paper in her hands before looking back at him. “Thank you. For…this. And that.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” Astarion purred, turning to walk back to his desk while she walked to the door. As she opened it, she heard him call her name, making her turn to look at him. 

“If you ever find yourself needing another file lost, do come by again. I’m sure I’ll be seeing your name again soon.” He grinned, sending her a wink and waving to her as she blushed and rushed out of the room.

Lilith walked down the hall and to the stairs, biting the inside of her cheek as she felt his cum leaking down her thigh. She would definitely be coming back. 

[daughter-lilith]

BG3 Male Companions x Fem!Reader

And Then There Were Four...

Explicit ❕❗❕❗18+

Summary: You're the Queen of a great nation in Faerûn. You have no problem ruling alone, but lately, you've found your desires aching for a partner, a husband, a king. Once word spread of a famed competition to win your affection, hundreds of thousands answered the call. And finally, at last, the final four remain: Halsin, Wyll, Gale, & Astarion.

The end of the challenge is here, and with the help of your ladies, only one shall win your hand. And you cannot wait to get started...

Word Count: 11.2k

CW: consent | oral | p in v sex | anal | multiple orgasms | polite? gangbang | F/MMMM | raw sex | passionate sex | kinky | words of praise | creampie | double penetration | stretching | brief after care | mostly F/M activities but some light F/F & M/M

Idk where this idea came from, but I hope you have fun!😘 ao3 if you prefer.

“Ah, the final four at last.” The sound of your sultry, regal voice drifted down the many steps from your throne, echoing sweetly off the high ceilings of the throne room’s walls. Your mouth slid into a half smile, eyes sweeping across the focused gazes of the men who stared forward, waiting to be granted permission to gaze upon you directly.

On each side of the room, large, golden pillars separated the massive windows adorned with sparkling jewels and glittering magic. The day’s light peered through one side of the windows, casting a warm golden glow across the room. Dozens of knights stood on guard at the foot of the throne, the aisle leading up to it, and a few at each of your sides. To your immediate right, a flowery aroma wafted around you as Shadowheart, your Hand, leaned down, whispering near your ear.

“Nearing the end already it seems. Such fun this has been.” Her breath smelled like rich wine, and you just barely caught sight of her silver hair slipping over her shoulders.

With a closed grin, you simply nodded and kept your attention focused on your waiting suitors. At the end of the steps, Minthara, one of the prestigious members of your honor guard glanced over her shoulder; her vibrant, crimson eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

You nodded once, feeling the fine jewels on your ears dangling softly. Settling into the comfort of your throne, your heart rate picked up in anticipation as you watched.

After Minthara returned a subtle nod, she turned to face the four men, putting her arms behind her back as she stepped forward and began to speak.

“Two tendays ago, the court sent out a message across Faerûn, ordered by our Queen. She has opened her heart to finding a satisfactory husband. A partner. A valiant equal. Thousands answered the call, including you…” She sauntered towards the start of the line, to the first waiting gentleman, and leisurely made her way down the lineup. “Halsin Silverbough, The Archdruid… Wyll Ravenguard, The Grand Duke… Gale Dekarios, The Archmage… Astarion Ancunín, The Vampire Magistrate.”

You watched Minthara analyzing them, tilting her head from time to time, and could only imagine the scrutinizing gaze she pierced into them. Then she returned to her starting place, the light reflecting over the red and silver jewels adorning her sides. Each of the men stood still, hands folded at their back, chests slowly rising and falling.

A soft sigh flowed from your lips as you crossed one leg over the other, eyes sweeping past them. They were all so different, all hailing from different regions and lifestyles. The vampire’s eyes reminded you of Minthara’s, but they were brighter, and you craved to see how they looked up close, with the light shining down on them.

The Duke was most intriguing. You had heard of a man once human then half turned into a tiefling. But you didn’t expect that very man to ever be standing before you, pursuing you, with horns adorned in fine jewels and one red eye that could tell so many stories.

The Archdruid’s appearance enchanted you, never had you laid eyes on such an elf before. You heard whispers from time to time, and the gossip had never been more correct. And so far, he seemed as strong in mind as he was in body.

And the Archmage was brimming with fascinating power. Even now, as he stood, silent and at the ready, you could almost feel the magic dancing just beneath his fingertips, ready to please you.

The sound of Minthara’s voice stirred you from your thoughts, and you reverted your attention to the task. Her voice filled the massive chamber, echoing down the room.

“You were among the many who answered the call. You traveled far, out of your own free will, and you have freely given your consent to earn the affection of our queen. You have succeeded in the challenges thus far. You have performed your personal artistry for the Queen. You have fought your challengers for the queen. You have bled for the queen. And now, you will do one last task for the queen…”

When she finished speaking, she took two steps to the side, allowing Lae’zel, the captain of your guard, to step forward.

Lae'zel coolly carried her great silver sword diagonally across her front, her hands gripping the hilt. She rolled her arms back, lean muscle flexing lightly.

“But before we proceed further,” she began, “like all times before, we will remind you that you may walk away before we begin. You are free to march out of those doors, leave the palace, and on orders of the queen, no harm will come to you for your early departure. So, for the last time, if you remain here for the final challenge, you will do whatever your queen asks of your mind and your body. You will oblige. You will obey. You will fulfill. And should you be chosen, you may take your place by our Majesty’s side. Or…you may leave. Do you accept?”

You leaned forward a little, heart thundering. Oh please accept. You would honor your orders and ensure no harm came to them if they chose to leave, but you eagerly hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. And as though the gods themselves felt your desires, in unison, the men bowed their heads. “I accept.”

An almost shuddering breath flowed from your lips, the excitement threatening to be too much to bear, but you quickly calmed yourself. You were a Queen after all, and one of such status should display some decorum.

Lae’zel and Minthara each walked off to the side, opposite of each other to give you a full, uninterrupted view of the final four.

“You may gaze upon me,” you said, the regality of your tone filling the chamber.

The four men roved their eyes up at you, lifting their chins slightly. A readiness reflected deeply in their eyes, a silent desire to follow your every command, to earn the highest favor. You hummed slowly, the sultry sound smooth and calming.

Taking a deep breath, you curved your lips into a tender smile. “My final four, it brings me great pleasure to see you make it this far. You have impressed me with your magic, your strength, and your words, but there is one more assessment you must partake in first. One more test of compatibility before committing myself to you... One of you will be my chosen, but the remaining three will leave here with memories that will live on until your last breath.”

As you closed your speech, the men hung on your every word, their gazes never leaving you. When you next spoke, your commands were for the selected guards, handmaidens, and servants waiting for their instructions. “Prepare them for the final challenge. Bring them to me when they are ready.”

After a few bows and a chorus of ‘yes, my queen’ and ‘Your Majesty’, the men were rounded up and led towards a side door that left the throne room.

As they exited, you felt yourself shiver in anticipation, your mind visualizing all sorts of wonderful, delectable images. Oh how quickly this challenge was coming to an end. And by the end of the night, you’d have your king. But first…

To your left, Karlach, your personal guard spoke up, her energy lively. “Ready to head to your chambers?”

You glanced up at her, a knowing smile on your face. “I am.” Then you rose, and the entire room stood at attention.

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊

The cool breeze caressed your cheeks as you stood on your balcony, one hand on the stone railing. Golden hour had approached as you took an admiring glance over the marvelous, thriving acropolis of your palace. You took another sip of your dark wine, the rich taste with a hint of sweetness warming your throat. Another gentle breeze tickled your skin, fluttering right through the thin fabric of your robe.

You closed your eyes, inhaling a deep breath of the fresh air. You had prepared for this day, mentally and physically, eagerly watching the challengers' numbers dwindle as you got closer to it. And now, at last…

A single knock from behind had you turning towards the sound.

“My Queen,” Karlach said. “Minthara says they’re ready for you.”

Your lips curved into a lustrous smirk. Taking one last sip of your wine, you set the golden goblet on the table and slipped past Karlach, sauntering back into your large room.

Bare feet touched marble floors as you moved across the lavish room. Tall, floor-to-ceiling curtains from the balcony lazily fluttered inward on the breeze, brushing past stone pillars. The smell of various incense and lavender touched your nose as you strolled towards the large bed at the center, the back against the wall. White, sheer curtains hung half-folded along the sides of the bed, dripping over lush black and purple sheets.

Off to the side of the room, you shared glances with Shadowheart and Lae’zel, sending them a quick nod.

You reached the end of your bed, then walked up the three steps leading to it and turned around. On the far end of the room, tall, double doors remained shut. And at their side, Karlach stood, tall and at the ready.

Slowly, you rolled your neck around before sighing contentedly. The fluttering in your stomach began, your heart hastened and your skin prickled.

Taking a seat at the end of your bed, one leg resting atop the other, you idly played with your long nails. And before you spoke, your lips curved into a desirous smile. “Send them in.”

Immediately, Karlach turned and pulled one of the large doors open. It groaned lightly as it moved, and you could see Minthara ushering the final four inside before she retreated, closing the door behind her.

You inhaled a deep breath, fighting the urge to bite your lips as you took them in. Stripped to nothing but their underwear, they each strolled in with sure steps, chins high, and with eyes only for you.

Shadowheart guided them on where to stand, while Karlach remained guarding the door. Once the men were aligned, side by side, some dozen or so feet away from you, you once again graced them with your voice.

“Ah, how lovely to see you again, my final four.”

You paused, taking a moment to rove your gaze over their bodies: every line, dip, and curve. Your gaze was shameless, smiling as you swept your eyes over their underwear and the teasing bulge tucked just beneath. You wondered for a moment, just how thick those bulges could become – but you were getting ahead of yourself, there was plenty of time this evening…

“Archdruid Halsin,” you sang, meeting the imposing elf’s eyes. “Take a step forth.”

Halsin did as he was told, taking a single step out of the line, slightly rolling his shoulders as he came to a stop. What a sight he was, his large frame such an anomaly, but one that you more than appreciated. A crimson tattoo swirled in lazy patterns down the right side of his face. You could see it slithering down his neck, and halfway down his right arm. Very thick arms complemented by thick thighs, and bulging veins made this large elf. Dark hair streaked across his chest and abdomen, also touching his arms and thighs. A pleasant sight.

“I’ve heard many tales, rumors, and the like about you,” you began, keeping your gaze locked onto the attentive druid. “One in particular that baffles me, is your apparent drive to roam freely, that your…nature never settles. So tell me, Archdruid, why did you answer the call? Why do you seek my hand?”

The Archdruid cleared his throat, and when he spoke, the deep timbre of his voice rolled throughout the chamber. “That was my life, my queen, for a time at least. But I have lived a long time, and my nature has called for me to plant its roots. It longs for the kind of connection it cannot find while roaming.” He paused for a moment, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips, confident. “And now nature has led me to you. You are all I want, my queen, and should your path also lead you to me, well, my dedication to you will know no limits. The Oakfather himself could not break it.” His irises flickered gold as he finished, and you couldn’t help the light chuckle of both pleasure and flattering amusement that hummed from your throat.

You glanced at Lae’zel, giving her a graceful wave and terse nod. In response, she stepped towards Halsin and silently guided him back in line. He bowed slowly before retaking his place.

You looked towards Wyll. “Come, Grand Duke,” you said, and the partial human, partial tiefling stepped forward, confidence oozing down his shoulders as the sunlight reflected over the gems and jewels decorating his curved horns.

The golden light also blanketed part of his warm, deep brown skin, accentuating all the ridges, scars, and lines of lean muscle. It bathed him in the most beautiful glow. Part of you wondered what he looked like before the change, but you loved the wide curve of his horns and the unique dips in his skin due to the ridges. You were sure this form was meant to be a curse, and yet your eyes took great pleasure in what stood before you.

“Wyll, you are no stranger to courtly duties and status. I am sure you have had many suitors yourselves, many hoping to be noticed by you. To take your place at my side would mean to move on from Baldur’s Gate, a city you grew up in and fought so hard for. Are you truly prepared to leave it all behind, to pass on your title?”

With no hesitation, the Grand Duke nodded his head twice. “I am. The Gate has been my home for as long as I can remember, and I have done much for that city. But now my heart answers to a greater calling; to find my home in something far superior, a home that is at your side. I know our achievements will reach far beyond the Gate. I know our bond will thrive, standing the test of time.”

You grinned, swaying your legs lightly. “Mmm, we shall see if it will…Wyll.”

He belted into a soft laugh, grinning. “And I happen to know my way around the ballroom, should you ever wish to twirl beneath the chandeliers.”

With a light but welcoming laugh, you signaled Lae’zel once again. As Wyll returned to his place, you met eyes with the famed wizard.

“Gale of Waterdeep, a master wizard.” You curved your index finger, curling it towards you, and the Archmage came forth.

A dark marking, like an orb or a fireball falling from the sky, traced from the top of his left collarbone to the top of his chest. It looked faded, washing into his smooth skin. Like the Archdruid, faint strands of hair decorated his chest. You made a soft hum in surprise, roving your eyes down his torso. His abdomen was surprisingly taut for a non-warrior, and when you met his gaze, there was a smirk dipped into his cheek at your wandering eyes.

You tapped your nails along your knee. “You were once involved with Mystra, on a more… intimate level, correct?”

Gale nodded once. “Correct, my queen.”

“Hmm, then I can only imagine why you seek my affection – my heart. Surely after embracing the arms of a goddess, one cannot outmatch that, no?”

The smirk in his mouth smoothed out, and the confident glint in his eyes became serious. “I worked under Mystra, then I shared her bed, her heart, but never as her equal but as a plaything she took interest in. After our parting, my only goal was to turn my heart back to its first love: magic.” He glanced away for a mere second, before looking at you again, eyes softening. “But my heart was missing something, the chance for true love, deserved love. You are my queen, but as your husband, you will be my goddess.”

A warm flush spread across your skin at his words, and your eyes narrowed in appreciation. Another signal at the captain of your honor guard, and Gale reclaimed his place in line. Then last, but so far from least, you finally eyed the vampire.

“The Vampire Magistrate, let us speak,” you softly commanded.

With an almost sultry saunter, Astarion ambled forward just as the gentle breeze brushed through his bright, silver hair, shaking a few curls. His pale skin seemed even paler with the light illuminating the side of his body. Completely hairless, it came as no surprise that his physique was fitting of an elf-turned-vampire, lean and tight, sculpted in all the right ways. Vibrant, red eyes gazed at you, and your breath nearly hitched at the tantalizing sight.

“Astarion,” you began, tilting your head slightly. “The vampire who is neither spawn nor ascendant, and yet basks in the glory of the sun. When I was told a vampire would be seeking my hand, I almost didn’t believe it. Is it just my heart you seek, or is it what my heart pumps throughout this body, every second, every moment?”

He let out a rhythmic chuckle, giving you a peek of the fangs within, sharp and pure white. “Well, my dear mesmerizing queen,” a charming finesse dripped from his tongue. “While I have no doubt what flows within your body is…quite delectable, I have admired you for quite some time. Your grace, your wisdom, your ability to lead and unite the realms, it is fascinating. Most admirable. And there is no other person I would trust, nor want, to warm this chilled heart.”

Quite unexpecting words from the charming vampire, but your smile was hard to conceal. With a wave, you had him ushered back in the line with the other three.

Taking a deep breath, you rose to your feet, the silk of your robe moving with you. “Your words touch me, and I am more than pleased that you succeeded your competitors. But before I allow one of you to forever have me, the four of you must first share… Consider it a gift for making it so far.”

You reached for the strap around your waist and pulled it, unraveling it with ease. Bringing your hands to the middle of your robe, you pulled it apart, letting the slippery silk fall to your feet. Completely naked before them, you arched your back to accentuate your chest, already feeling your nipples becoming taut.

The men remained silent as they watched you, save for the quiet gasps and shudders of breath.

Halsin’s eyes flashed a brief light of gold, his mighty stance shifting. Wyll’s gaze seemed to struggle to stay on your eyes, his parted lips and thickening bulge betraying him. The tiniest sparks of electric blue fluttered at Gale’s fingertips, and he clenched his fists, tracing you with his eyes. The red in Astarion’s eyes seemed darker, pooling with brazen lust. You caught him giving a brief lick to one fang.

Pleased, you sat down on the soft bed, resting your feet on the step just below. “My final four, I adore the pretty words that leave your tongue, but now you must show me just how skilled that tongue is by itself.” Slowly, you leaned back on one elbow, spreading your legs apart, gracing them with a view of your most intimate place. “But no fingers here.” You tapped your nails lightly down your moist center.

“Archdruid, you may come to me.” Your voice was breathy, sensual, as you locked eyes with the large elf.

Behind him, you noticed Lae’zel and Shadowheart pulling the other men off to the side but keeping them in the room.

Large, slow yet purposeful strides closed in on you as Halsin made his way to you. He stopped at the bottom of the two steps, towering over you. Your heart quickened at the sight, how large and imposing he was this close, hazel eyes glistening with desire; a dim gold that threatened to burn again. He wasn’t touching you, but you could already feel the warmth that exuded from the old druid, aching to wrap you into it. Then, he lowered onto his knees, eyes on you the entire time, and tentatively reached to touch your thigh.

Halsin leaned near the side of your thigh, and you could feel his warm breath brushing against you. He moved closer, then paused, eyeing you in a silent question.

“Go on, Archdruid,” you whispered, encouraging.

He grinned, a few fine lines dipping into his cheeks. “As you wish, my queen.”

Large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you even wider. It was such a simple touch and yet the warmth, the strength, already had you biting your lips. A warm mouth kissed your inner thigh lightly, testing and learning. A shiver rushed down your back as warm breath brushed past the area you ached most, and another soft kiss pressed into your thigh. A long, satisfying hum flowed from your lips as a large, flat tongue pressed against your waiting vulva, starting from the space between your two holes, and languidly sliding up to your waiting clit. His entire tongue covered you, immediately coating you with his warm saliva.

A deep, pleasurable groan rumbled from the druid’s throat, reverberating up your body. Keeping his hands firmly on your thighs, his tongue wasted no time dipping between the tender folds of your labia, before the point of his tongue poked and pressed over your now swollen clit. A soft moan sang from your lips at the throbbing sensation, and Halsin responded by sucking purposefully, exploring the different pitches and sounds he could pull from you. You gasped as the tip of his tongue suddenly dipped inside you, worming its way as far as it could go.

“Mmm.” Your moans were a rising chorus now, bouncing off the gold and alabaster-painted walls. One hand reached for Halsin, slipping through the soft tresses of his hair where you dug your nails in.

Another groan, almost growl vibrated against you, and he gripped your thighs harder, exploring you deeper, drinking all of you he could. Toes curling, your lips were left parted, sighing unabashedly at the tingling sensations firing through you while the Archdruid continued to tongue-fuck you. Higher and higher were your pitches, until a flood of the most familiar, most pleasurable sensations washed down your core, spraying the druid who happily welcomed your fountain. Panting heavily, you trembled slightly as Halsin lapped you up, leisurely cleaning you with his tongue the way a cat would.

With the bottom of your foot, you gently but intentionally nudged his back. Halsin looked up at you, and your breath caught at the shining, golden eyes caught in a web of lust, staring up at you. It was a most alluring sight, stoking new fires within you.

It reminded you that you weren’t finished yet, for the day was long. With an aroused breath, you tried your best not to speak too shakily. “Thank you, Archdruid.”

Almost reluctantly, Halsin rose to his full height, his lips glistening as he stared down and bowed at you. Stealing a glance at his underwear, a wet stain had collected against a large, stiff shape. You smiled, tilting your head to the side as a signal to join the others.

“Bring me the Duke,” you instructed.

A light shuffle of feet sounded before you noticed Shadowheart politely guiding the Grand Duke to the bottom of your bed. She glanced at you from behind him, bowing lightly with a knowing smile.

Wyll’s horns seemed even larger from this short distance, and you couldn’t help but wander your eyes down his chest, steadily rising and falling as old scars were illuminated by the light. Your gaze unabashedly dropped to the hard mound hidden beneath red underwear.

Swaying your knee slightly, you readjusted your weight on your elbows. “The Archdruid cleansed me before your arrival, but can you sully me up again, Grand Duke?”

Wyll smirked, his one, almost glowing red eye holding your gaze. Then, he dipped into a formal bow like he was offering you a dance. “It would be my utmost pleasure.” Rising, he took one step up, then another before gracefully lowering down on one knee. The bracelets and jewels adorning his horns jangled a little, sparkling in the golden light filling half the room.

As he lowered towards you, you’re able to better see the ridges and scars along each side of his neck, and you can’t help but reach out, gently running a hand down the lines. Wyll closed his eyes at your touch, his mouth partly open. His scarring was rough against your fingers, something of an incredible story behind those markings. Pulling away, you leaned back on your elbow.

Wyll peered at you just as you nodded towards your moist flesh. “You may feast, Grand Duke.”

Wyll dipped his head towards your navel first. Warm lips kissed your soft skin, gentle and polite. Your skin prickled behind his touch, and pleasurable flutters filled your belly. A soft sigh radiated from your lips as you closed your eyes and settled into this sense of calm and gentleness, wondering if his tongue would be just as gentle.

It was not.

Once his lips closed over your clit, the pressure from his tongue and inside of his mouth was immediate. Your eyes shot open at the sudden sensation, the Grand Duke giving you no time to lull into the gradually rising pleasure. Instantly, your toes clamped as he tasted you ruthlessly, hungrily, like you were the first source of nourishment he had in days. Wyll’s head tilted side to side, sloppily tasting and sucking your already so tender flesh. His hands gripped the sheets next to your thighs, and you could tell he so desperately wanted to add his fingers to feel you, dip inside you, but you were more than pleased that he abided by your one rule.

Your loud whimper echoed across the chambers as his tongue continued to absolutely suck you swollen. You reached forward, grabbing both of his horns, and pushed his face deeper onto your flesh, so wet and dripping, slathering yourself over him. Wyll groaned quietly, never giving your clit a moment’s reprieve. Before long, a familiar feeling buzzed down your navel, making your legs tremble as you were brought to another peak.

Catching your breath, you released your grip on his horns as Wyll’s tenacious tongue finally relaxed against you. Like the Archdruid before him, he quietly ran his tongue over you, catching your fluids. You took him by one horn again and gently nudged him back. “Much appreciated, Grand Duke.”

With a lazy wave from you, Lae’zel came forward this time, guiding Wyll to his feet. He bowed deeply, then returned to his place.

Before your next contender, you rotated your neck and then inhaled deeply, calming your heart. With a whisper, you spoke a short incantation and pressed two fingers over your lower abdomen. A cool sensation spread through you instantly, reawakening your senses as it sped up the resolution phase. Already, your once swollen clit calmed, and your heart did not pace as fast. But this stage, to your hope, wouldn’t last for long.

“The Wizard, please,” you said, feeling recharged.

It took no time to watch silver hair pass by the sheer curtains on the side of your bed, emerging into view alongside the famed Archmage. Shadowheart waved lightly, leaving you with the wizard. As he sauntered over you, a very knowing smirk seemed permanently curved into his face. For a man who once laid with a goddess, you could practically touch the confidence oozing from the powerful wizard.

You spread your legs wider, drawing his eyes towards your slick center. “Tell me, Archmage, will you worship me?”

Gale roved his eyes back to yours, the desire and determination in his eyes ever present. “There’s nothing that would give me greater pleasure.”

The wizard kept his gaze on you, sauntering forward before sinking to his knees. He dipped forward, the day’s light shining over his dark brown tresses with faint hints of silver swirling into his mane. A soft hand slid under your knee, lifting your leg to rest over his shoulder. The rate of your heart began to pick up again and you could already feel your feet twitching to curl at the promised sensations to come.

Gale hovered towards your waiting sex, looking up at you. “If I may for a moment…”

You quirked your brow as you watched him keenly. He closed his eyes and a stream of subtle whispers flowed from his lips. Blue-white mist wafted from his mouth in a beautiful cloud. He exhaled and a sudden gasp escaped your throat. A cool, near-icy sensation spread over you, and you nearly lost the footing of your other leg resting on the top step. Gale chuckled lightly, picking up your other leg to rest on his shoulder as well. You threw your head back as his mouth kissed your chilled lips, but it was strangely pleasant, electric even as his icy tongue slithered between your lips. His head moved back and forth, tongue lathering you sweetly.

You bit your lips, panting at the dozens of sensations bubbling through you. And when he dipped his tongue inside, you yelped, the contrast of his cool tongue and your hot walls overwhelming. His tongue swirled inside of you before tracing up and in between your labia, leaving all sorts of tingles and prickles over your wet flesh as your clit throbbed in his mouth. You gazed up at the high ceilings, fingers clenching as you approached the top of an icy mountain. Belly tightening, toes curling, a shattering moan escaped your lungs. The coolness of Gale’s tongue shifted into a soothing warmth. He swiped tender, lazy licks over your sensitive, wet lips before sealing his work with a kiss.

“My queen,” Gale smiled, cheek and chin glistening with your juices.

Like clockwork, Lae’zel came behind him. “Chk,” she sounded, waiting for him to rise. He gently lowered your legs off him before standing.

Coming down, you focused on leveling your breathing before speaking. “Many thanks, Archmage.”

With a respectful bow, he was escorted off to the side.

You locked eyes with vibrant, crimson gems and curled your finger towards you in a silent calling. With smooth finesse, light footsteps almost glided across the floor as the vampire made his way to the steps leading to your bed. Your heart leaped as his glimmering; red eyes drank you in. You had never been intimate with a vampire before, and your body couldn’t quell its excitement. The day’s light shined over his pale skin, piquing your curiosity as to how he managed to walk in the daylight. Perhaps a spell, maybe something to do with the silver ring he wore. But such questions were less important at present.

You noticed his chest wasn’t moving as you looked down at him with a desirous mien wrapped in a box of pure confidence. Dripping, you slid your finger down between your folds then leisurely back up again, feeling how moist you were, your body’s warmth fully returned. “Will you show me your teeth, vampire?”

Astarion’s smile dipped further into his cheek, and he quickly teased you with a show of his fang as his tongue flicked over it. “With pleasure,” he near-whispered, never dropping his gaze.

But instead of moving towards you, he remained still as a statue, eyes still locked on you as you waited. You quirked a brow, wondering what ruminated in this vampire’s mind as he left you waiting. But before you could settle into confusion, before you could call him to you – a cold rush of air whipped over you, stealing your breath. With supernatural speed, Astarion blinked toward you, stopping over your belly. You gasped as he winked at you, grinning with a flash of his fangs.

You returned an amusing smile as he descended toward your center. A shiver coursed through you as the tip of his fangs grazed your now plump, tender flesh, careful not to pierce skin. Like the Archmage, the vampire’s breath was cold, but in a way that felt more natural, like a relieving dip in the river on a hot summer’s day.

A rhythmic, rumbling purr vibrated up his throat, immediately overwhelming you as you let your head fall back. A sudden sigh left your mouth as his cold hands grasped your thighs, keeping your legs wide apart. His tongue was cold but not icy, slithering over your folds like a snake winding down a tree. And when he closed his mouth over your clit, a shiver charged down your legs, your fingers gripping the lush sheets. Between the electric point of his fangs and the purring noises the vampire made, a torrent of sensations was already firing through you, heart racing in your chest.

The volume of your quiet moans elevated as Astarion feasted below you – as much as a vampire could without a drop of blood. His expert tongue was calling for your orgasm, pulling it through your body at devastating speeds. Another flick of his tongue on your clit and you were erupting once again, your entire body trembling from yet another climax reached. Panting, you looked back down to find him grinning at you. His tongue ran a long swipe over his lips, purposefully flashing his fangs at you in the process.

You smiled in silent appreciation as your breathing slowly began to level. You nodded your head and Astarion gave your swollen labia one last kiss before rising. By now, he knew the routine and rolled his shoulders back before returning to his place in line.

With all the men lined back up, side by side, you remained in bed completely lust-filled, and skin flushed. You throbbed in all the best ways, your wetness still lightly dripping out of you. Instead of repeating the former incantation, you decided to revel in the belly of this high, allowing it to calm on its own. As graceful as possible, you dragged yourself further back on the large bed, made easier by the velvety silk cover, and rested at the center. You turned to lean on your left side, pulling the sheer drapes back.

“My girls,” you called, looking at Lae’zel and Shadowheart, “will you do me the honors, and tell me how they taste? Tell me how they feel in your hands. Bring them just to the edge.”

“Of course, my queen,” Lae’zel answered.

“I would love to.” Shadowheart bit her lip, and you could easily imagine the excitement in her heart, the blood rushing to her core in arousal.

Then your gaze passed over each of the men. “And you, lovely gentlemen, don’t touch, just stand and experience.” A simple order, but one that would be watched closely, by both you and your personal tiefling guard who still stood by the doors.

The two women walked before the men and carefully yet deliberately dragged their underwear down, freeing them immediately. You bit your lips as you watched each cock spring forth, various shades and sizes and angles. Whether it stood high and erect like the vampire’s, or hung thick and heavy like the Archdruid’s, your core tingled, saliva gathering in your mouth. But for now, patience.

Once the men were fully naked and bare, your ladies strolled to each end of the line with Shadowheart stopping in front of Halsin, and Lae’zel before Astarion. In perfect sync, they sank to their knees and your heart drummed in anticipation as you observed eagerly. You found yourself biting your lips as their tongues licked languidly up Halsin and Astarion’s cocks, feeling a rush of heat to your already so tender center. While their mouths began to work, one of their hands stroked the length of Wyll and Gale’s shafts.

Astarion’s hands were twitching and Halsin’s jaw looked clenched before he let his head fall backwards. Shadowheart seemed to be struggling with the Archdruid’s cock at first, and the sight made you sigh in pleasure. She only needed to taste, not try to take it all in, but you were feeling generous and allowed her to proceed.

As they fell into a steady motion, you watched the men's eyes closing in bliss, faces pooling in pleasure as the two women found a steady motion. Eventually, they alternated; mouths and hands on new cocks, tasting and testing. You were absolutely exhilarated by the sight, feeling hot as you watched their abdomens tighten and flex, knowing they so desperately wanted something to grip, to hold, but could only clench their fists.

The men were a moaning, whimpering mess. Various tone levels overlapped and echoed against the walls. From the deep, near-growling Archdruid; to the softer sighs of the Wizard, a throaty groan from the Duke, and hissing sighs from the Vampire. Sweat dripped down their skin, shimmering in the warm glow of the golden light outside that began to dip but still shined into the room.

Despite the needy sounds of pleasure, they never touched the two ladies who still licked, sucked, and fondled them. Each time you sensed one of them getting close, your ladies would pull away and leave them promptly until the very last one was denied their orgasm. And this pleased you greatly.

Shadowheart rose to her feet, strolling over to you with a happy smile, while Lae’zel’s lips were glistening from her saliva, face flushed. The women shared a look with each other first, some quiet recognition passing between them. Once they reached the side of your bed, they lowered their voices, just out of earshot.

Lae’zel spoke first. “Forgive us, my queen, but this may prove more difficult than we anticipated.”

“They each have their unique taste,” Shadowheart added, “and truthfully… I enjoyed all of it.”

The githyanki licked her lips, her yellow eyes brightening. “And their musk is most divine. I still smell it, can taste it on my lips. Even now I grow moist within.”

A shiver rushed through you at her words, and you tapped your fingers along your bare hip, pondering.

“What do you suggest, my queen?” asked Shadowheart.

You looked past them, glancing at the four men who stood patiently, cocks stiff and waiting. You knew there was a chance it would come to this, in fact, you hoped. And here it was… “Hmm, I suppose my body may be in need of your healing after this is all done,” you stated, eyeing Shadowheart who nodded knowingly. “And do we have enough sponges?”

Lae’zel nodded once. “We do. I checked earlier, just in case.”

A light chuckle left your lips, and you rose into a side-sitting position. “Then it shall be done. But first, a sample.” Your gaze bounced between both of their lips and they wasted no time climbing on the bed, crawling towards you.

Lae’zel found your lips first, her tongue sliding into your mouth almost immediately. Her mouth was warm, wet, lips as plump as you remember as your tongue danced with hers. But she wasn’t too greedy, pulling away to allow Shadowheart access to your mouth, which she happily obliged. You smirked in amusement as a soft moan flowed from her mouth, one she seemingly couldn’t resist. Her warm tongue slithered over and under yours, and not a moment later, you felt a new tongue worming its way in.

The three of you shared a wet, tongue-dancing, open-mouthed kiss – swapping saliva and biting lips. Various tastes of sweat and skin collected on your tongue, all strangely unique, mingling with the taste of the two women. Your heart thundered, stomach fluttering, and there was a temptation to run your fingers through their hair and have them shed the comfortable, delicate garments they wore. But as you opened your eyes, you caught a glance at the final four who stood some paces away, silent, watching intently. With a smile, you hummed in delight as you pulled away.

“Thank you, my dears.” You eyed them both sweetly. They smiled, bowing lightly before gracefully ambling off the bed.

“We shall be close,” said Lae’zel, before making her way to the waiting gentleman.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, your body rippled with excitement. Your stomach quivered and you were oh too aware of the beat of your heart. Leaning on your arm, your eyes swam over the patient men who seemed ready to hang onto your every word.

“My final four,” the passionate, resplendent tone of your voice flowed through the chamber, “seek your pleasure with me as if I was already your wife. Guide me to many peaks, and seek your own.”

You ran a nail along your bottom lip as you took in their expressions, before trailing your gaze down their excited cocks. You could’ve sworn you noticed Gale’s twitch just a tad and it made you chuckle, flattered. With a delectable hum, you called two forth. “Wyll, Gale, come to me.”

Lae’zel extended her arm in your direction, leading the pair towards you. As they made their way, you cast a glance at the other two and could’ve sworn you noticed a hint of dejection dragging across the vampire’s face, while the Archdruid appeared stoic, but you saw right through his eyes.

Wyll and Gale approached your bedside, their erections bouncing with each step.

Shadowheart’s voice filled the grand room. “You may touch her, kiss her, taste her, bite her…”

Lae’zel tacked on. “…Fill her, then fill her again, and again…”

The Archmage and the Grand Duke almost looked nervous as they came to your bed, like they knew they were nearing the end. But now was not the time to have them waning under pressure.

You slowly traced your gaze over their naked bodies, biting your lips as you watched them practically throbbing for you. But after they climbed the two steps to your bed, neither of them moved, waiting for your direction. Your stomach fluttered. It filled you with such bliss to still see them so obedient for you, such wonderful traits. So it was only right to give them one more command.

“Don’t be shy. Take the lead now, and don’t make me wait too long…”

Your words seemed to ignite a fire behind their eyes, and you caught a faint flash of blue sparks dancing across Gale’s fingers. The men shared a glance with one another, then nodded, some personal understanding. You watched Wyll stroll to the other side of the bed, then looked at Gale one last time before the two of them crawled up and onto the plush mattress and silky sheets.

You closed your eyes and exhaled a breath of pleasure as their lips touched each side of your neck. Gale licked his way up to your ear while Wyll trailed his tongue down your neck before sucking lightly. One calloused hand began massaging your breast, kneading gently, while another smoother palm caressed the other one. Shivers trickled down your neck, surging down your back from the dual sensations. You were still dripping, still so moist from having them taste you earlier. Still so wet from watching your ladies taste their veiny cocks.

You were so ready for them, so ready to feel what else they could do for you. If they could once again shatter you with more explosions of pleasure. And as if they were detecting your thoughts, your world shifted and your eyes flung open as four hands took hold of your waist and hips, lifting you momentarily to give Gale room to slide beneath you. Wyll shot you a smirk and winked before flipping you over on your knees. Gale had laid himself flat on his back, his head propped on a few pillows while your face hovered over him; your ass up for Wyll to gaze and admire.

Gale lifted his head, capturing your lips. You met him readily, kissing him slowly, learning and exploring. His tongue seemed to shift from cold to warm, the contrasting sensations making you moan and sigh into his mouth. You reveled in the light scratch of his beard against your chin as your heads tilted from one side to the other. A tremor ran up your back at the feeling of a warm tongue licking your other lips as Wyll lathered between your wet folds. The Duke’s tongue dragged from the top of your tailbone, all the way down to your tender clit as you moaned heavily into Gale’s mouth.

When Gale pulled back, you felt his hand sliding down your sides, the tip of his cock tapping against your folds. “My dearest queen. My future goddess, are you ready?” he muttered softly. He took one hand away from your waist and brought it under your chin, swiping a thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes warm with lust.

“Yes,” you whispered, and his mouth curved into a devious smirk.

Wyll gave the cheeks of your ass two soft kisses. And with the guidance of his hands on you, the two of them positioned your soaked entrance just over Gale’s tip, sinking you onto him. You sucked in a breath as the Archmage penetrated you, slipping so well through your soaked walls, opening you so nicely.

When you were fully sat onto him, a ripple of pleasure rushed over you, but you were given no time to revel in it for Gale was lifting you again as Wyll guided your hips back down. In perfect unison, like they had practiced this before, they moved your lower body up and down on the wizard’s cock in long, rhythmic motions.

Below you, Gale moaned deeply, whispering about how amazing you felt. “So warm.” He managed to breathe, his lips parted and eyes drunk with lust. Your moans rang through the room, unabashed, drowning in the feel of the Archmage rubbing against your tight walls, over and over again. You needn’t move at all, for they made sure to guide you, to set the pace and the depth. But your arms were starting to tremble, so you fell on your elbows, resting over Gale’s chest, pressing your breasts against him.

Gale folded his legs, digging the heel of his feet onto the bed. A loud moan erupted from your mouth as he pushed harder into you, all the while telling you how beautiful and incredible you were. You felt a presence hovering over your back and warm drops of fluid trickling over your cheeks, followed by something long sliding between. Wyll’s groans mingled with your moans as he rubbed himself between your ass, and you shuddered at the peculiar feeling. Were those ridges lining up and down his shaft?

The Duke lowered towards you, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “May I?” he asked, suggestively poking the head of his cock over your second hole as Gale continued moving in and out of you.

Your blood burned at the suggestion, and you moaned out a needy ‘yes’.

“But first,” you started to say, your words cut short as the wizard throbbed inside of you. “Sh—Shadow—” you breathed, trying to call for her.

Not a moment later, a gentle voice appeared near the right side of your bed. “Way ahead of you, my queen,” you heard Shadowheart say. You could hear her mutter a spell before clasping her hands together. “For you and the Grand Duke,” she said.

Instantly, a cool sensation dribbled between your cheeks, thick and oozing. You felt Wyll lift his cock from you, imagining him lathering himself with magical lubricant. Then he returned to you, something soft and moist rubbing over your tight hole.

“Just breathe, Your Grace,” Wyll encouraged quietly, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You let out a breathy chuckle, flattered by his gentleness as he nibbled on your ear, sending a tremor down your back, and making you sigh in delight. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the curve of his horns and the glint of the jewelry that adorned them. You longed to grab onto those horns, but the anticipation made your forearms feel weak, and from this angle with how they caged you, it would be difficult, but not impossible.

Wyll sank a finger inside your anus first, and you hummed against Gale, already so sensitive as Wyll’s finger explored you, tested you. Once pleased, he released his finger and leaned away from your neck. Then, you felt a new pressure against your anus, something larger, pressing into the waiting hole. A louder moan dripped from your lips at the incredibly new sensation. A feeling you hadn’t felt in quite some time. And you breathed deeply as fresh sparks of familiar pain ran through you as the half-tiefling stretched your sphincter while you tried to relax the muscle.

“Gods,” you breathed, trying to moan again but it was swallowed by the wizard’s sudden kiss.

Wyll’s hand firmly cupped the sides of your ass as he pushed deeper and deeper. “That’s it, you have it,” he droned behind you, making you moan at the praise.

You felt so incredibly full, both of your holes stuffed to the brim as Wyll began a slow and steady rhythm, letting you get used to him before his pace increased. The ridges of his shaft felt incredible, making your hands claw into the wizard’s chest as he moaned beneath you.

Soon, Wyll moved in perfect sync with Gale’s cock, thrusting and dragging out of you at the same time before sinking back in. Your heart thundered as you leaked endlessly, your wetness continuing to drench your walls, your arousal never waning, only climbing. You could feel them practically rubbing against each other from inside you, and before long, you were a screaming, whimpering mess as they used your holes to their hearts' content. As they pleased you in a way you gave command to while still taking pleasure for themselves.

Soon, their movements fell out of sync and you closed your eyes, drowning in the heightened sensations. Gale muttered something you could hardly hear, but you gasped at the feeling of his suddenly cold cock ramming through your walls. You would’ve lifted yourself for reprieve if you could, but Wyll had part of his weight on you, making a home deep within your ass.

“Remember to fill her.” You heard someone say, Lae’zel maybe, you weren’t sure.

You managed to lift yourself just enough from Gale’s chest and reached one arm behind you, finding a curved horn that you wasted no time gripping. A wave of pleasure came soaring in from the high tides, coming closer and closer as your song reached a higher pitch. It came until it crashed into you, shattering your entire body with its ecstasy. A heavy grunt filled your ear as Wyll’s movements stuttered inside your ass while Gale twitched within you. Warm, thick fluid filled both of your holes, and you sighed as they simultaneously withdrew, allowing some of them to seep out onto the covers or over Gale’s thighs.

Heavy breathing and panting surrounded the three of you. You felt so dazed, so open and tender.

Wyll shuffled back, and you used that moment to turn over, unceremoniously sliding off Gale in the process. Laying flat on your back, feeling their seed drip from you, your body buzzed, still burning for more. This time Wyll dipped down to kiss you, sweetly, passionately. You felt someone’s fingers swirl light patterns around your clit as the two men slowly guided you through this high.

Through the haze, you heard Shadowheart call for someone, instructing them. “Our queen’s nipples are looking rather lonely, maybe you can help with that.”

Through hooded eyes, you noticed the sheer curtains on your left side moving, and a large figure standing at the foot of your bed, looking down at you, eyes dark with a desperate want. Broad shoulders rolled slightly, and large pecs expanded from a deep breath. The sight invigorated you, stoking the fire that still burned. Your gaze traveled down the Archdruid’s heavily muscled frame, landing at his thick, leaking cock that barely hid the large sac hanging behind it. You were so entranced by the view that you gasped at the sudden flick of a tongue over your nipple, accompanied by a cold presence.

Bright, silver-white hair filled your vision as a long tongue swirled around your areola before teeth clamped onto your nipple. You hissed, flesh tingling, as the vampire gently bit down on your breast, tracing his fangs along your warm skin. You couldn’t help but reach forward and slip your fingers between his curls. Even his hair felt cold but soft as silk, his scalp smooth as you gripped gently.

Gale came to kiss you this time, and your eyes fluttered closed as you gave in to the passionate dance of his tongue. Occupied by the kiss, you felt the bed shift slightly as a blanket of warmth emanated from your left, like the sun itself had laid next to you. And the only thing that kept you from burning was the icy vampire who cooled your body, giving you a beautiful balance. The perfect temperature. You broke the kiss with the wizard just as tantalizing warmth took your other breast into their mouth. You looked down at the Archdruid who was already staring at you, one large hand resting over your belly. In the distraction, Gale slipped away from the side of your shoulder, giving the vampire more room to drag his tongue up along your collarbone.

“You taste divine,” Astarion murmured near your ear before pressing a kiss to your pulse point. The temptation to sink his fangs must’ve been so great while his dagger-like teeth grazed you, making you shiver.

“And you smell incredible,” the deep, husky voice of Halsin graced your ears next. His nose was up by the back of your ear now, and he inhaled deeply, purring a deep groan afterward that rumbled down your side.

You moaned in sweet bliss as they kissed and licked your hot skin, letting them feel and explore you.

“Shall we clean her for them?” The sound of the Duke hovered over your soft whines and sighs.

“It would be the polite thing to do,” Gale’s voice followed. And soon, your toes curled as a warm tongue started lapping up your vulva.

Flicking your gaze down at the new activity, you called onto your voice that felt so far, so lost in ecstasy. “Nn- no, at the…same time,” you ordered, hoping your command would reach them.

You heard Wyll chuckling, but in a way that sounded like he couldn’t wait to please you. Gale glanced up at you, lifting his face from your swollen cunt with a growing smirk. A moment later, two tongues were lapping at you, swirling over each other as they licked up and down your vulva and down to your anus. They licked you cleanly, drinking in your combined fluids with zero hesitation.

A large hand came around your neck, drawing your attention towards waiting lips. You let the Archdruid pull you into him, sealing his lips with yours. It was lightly scarred, and the feeling made you moan, wanting to bite and tug at his lip. But it was his groans that were sending you into oblivion, so deep and pleasurable in your ears, vibrating down your body.

“I would love a taste,” hummed the vampire, kissing your cheek. The Archdruid obliged, leaving your lips with a quick suck before a cool hand took your chin, guiding you towards them.

You whined as Astarion grazed his fangs over your lips, biting softly. His cold tongue slithered inside your eager mouth, falling into a hasty dance with your tongue. You shivered in pure delight as his cool breath mingled with yours, breathing it down your throat as Halsin continued to brush kisses down your neck, settling on your shoulder. You moaned lowly in Astarion’s mouth as a firm, tantalizing pressure pressed into your shoulder. The Archdruid growled as he bit down on you, not enough to bleed, but enough to leave a beautiful mark as his large hand massaged your supple breast.

“My dear queen,” the vampire murmured against your lips. You hummed in response, blinking your eyes open to meet his crimson, mischievous gaze. “I shall have you now, yes?”

You nodded quietly, desperately. You tried to reach for his lips again, but he drew back, chuckling lightly. Below you, a sudden suck made you squeal, your clit so raw by now. And for the second time tonight, the room spun, and you were promptly gripped, lifted, and placed right where they wanted you, where they craved you. This time the vampire was on his back, and your back was resting against his front. Unlike the wizard who gave you a brief warning, the vampire lifted you slightly and shoved his cold cock into your heat.

You bit your lips, trying and failing to stifle your endless moans, feeling so overwhelmed by the speed at which the vampire thrust into you. His arms linked around yours, locking you against his body. Your breast bounced as Astarion stroked into you which only seemed to draw in Gale and Wyll who couldn’t help but take your nipples in their mouth.

A gasp fell from your mouth as a thick finger slithered into your anus, followed by a warm mouth closing over your clit. Through a haze, you watched the broad shoulders of the Archdruid, sweaty and flexed, as his head moved up and down. Halsin dragged his tongue through your folds, swirling on the outside of your entrance as Astarion’s shaft continued to grind into you. The vampire was hissing in your ear, his icy breath making you tremble. You closed your eyes, seeing a formation of stars as you succumbed to the overwhelming surges of pleasure, your toes clenched so tight and your stomach fluttering, skin flush. A thick shot of fluid spilled into you as Astarion’s grip tightened around your arms and his cold breath coasted over your cheek. You chased his orgasm with your own, body trembling in his arms as Halsin still sucked and tasted you.

Finally, Astarion withdrew from you, and you whimpered at the feeling of sudden emptiness. He didn’t relieve the lock on your arms, but he did lessen the tension as you caught your breath, closing your eyes while the men fondled and caressed your body.

“You took me so well, my queen,” Astarion purred, his tone making you shiver. “And you felt heavenly.”

The sunlight felt warm on your skin, still peering through the large windows but continuing to make way for the moon, yet it was still just high enough to reach your chamber. Your body felt intoxicated, all sorts of sensations firing throughout your nerves. Then a shadow moved over you, but you were too drunk with the afterglow of lust to open your eyes.

“Will you honor me with this gift, my queen?” a voice asked you, so deep and warm, but you could hear the thick desire in their throat. “Just one more time, my heart to be.”

You lazily opened your eyes, peering at the towering figure before you. “Mm, yes,” you said, finding your legs opening to their own volition, still having just enough left in you.

Still constricted by the vampire, you wanted to reach upward, to place the palm of your hand against the thick chest of the Archdruid, squeezing the muscle. You knew he felt so incredibly warm, heart likely thundering behind that strong chest, and you bit your lips as you watched him position himself between your legs.

Gale and Astarion were busy kissing and licking along your earlobe, while Wyll tenderly kissed his way up your chest. He planted a kiss on your chin, smiling at you briefly before meeting his soft, full lips with yours. You closed your eyes, falling into the sweet kiss as you mentally prepared for the familiar sensation.

But your eyes shot open, and you whimpered into Wyll’s mouth. It was anything but familiar. Your holes had been so used already, so tender and raw. And yet, as the Archdruid entered you, a new sting of pain rippled through you, your walls being stretched anew.

You turned your head to look down at where you and Halsin met, watching his thick cock slowly disappear in you. “Mmm… fuck,” the curse fell from your lips as he expanded your walls inch by inch. It wasn’t like you didn’t know his girth was thick, but perhaps you were too lost in a daze to think about such things.

Or perhaps you assumed that you had plenty of prep from all the previous cocks and fingers thrusting in and out of you.

Your toes clenched as the Archdruid continued to sink. With Astarion still securing your arms, and Halsin’s grip on your thighs tight, you couldn’t wiggle away even if you wanted to. And you so, so badly wanted to stay, to sigh and gasp through the stretch.

“Ohh, my queen,” Halsin groaned deeply above you, focusing so intently on your leaking cunt.

Glancing at him, you shuddered as his irises started to glow again, a fierce gold charged with a primal desire. You hissed a little as he sunk deeper, almost reaching his limit and yours, and your stomach tightened, toes still clenched.

Shadowheart’s tender voice caught your ears. “Relax, my queen. Open for the Archdruid. Allow pleasure to carry you to its peak once more.”

Encouraged by your words, you exhaled and let your abdomen rest.

“Does he stretch you well, my queen?” Astarion whispered in your ear. You whimpered in response.

Finally reaching the base, Halsin held still for a moment and stared down at you, like he couldn’t believe the wondrous sight below him. But the moment of reprieve was short as he began to move, and you let your head fall back on Astarion’s left shoulder.

The vampire immediately came to the right side of your neck, leaving you love bites and more encouraging words. Your breathing increased as Halsin set a steady pace, the pain slipping away to endless bouts of pleasure around his thick cock.

The aroma of sex was hot and heavy in the air. Various noises of lust and pleasure were the chorus of sounds in the massive chamber. You’re almost sure everyone throughout the palace could hear you. Perhaps all throughout the city could hear the pleasurable cries of their queen being brought to the brink again and again.

Halsin was huge leaning over both you and Astarion, but he was careful not to rest his whole weight on you. His heat enveloped you, his torso sweating, irises glowing, as a stream of groans and growls erupted from his throat. You felt so full again as his cock hit the areas that made you whimper.

Gale found a chance to lick your clit again, while Wyll came around to leave love marks on the other side of your neck and shoulder after he was done marking your arms and thighs. Astarion was fondling your nipples while he kissed the back of your neck, his cock resting between your ass cheeks.

The Archdruid increased his pace by now, and your pleasurable cries only elevated in volume. He fucked you so well. They all fucked you so well, and yet so different.

Halsin leaned down to kiss you, sloppily, deeply. You could hardly keep up with his mouth as his thrusts reverberated through your body. His movements started to grow erratic, and you moaned loudly into his mouth, feeling a familiar shudder quaking its way down your stomach, over your throbbing core in another burst of ecstasy. Halsin left your lips and tossed his head back as a deep groan erupted from him. Hot fluid spilled into you, and you could feel some of it already leaking out your already stuffed hole as he buried all of himself inside you...

You don’t know how much time passed – a few minutes, an hour? Golden hour had dimmed, sinking past the horizon, but the waning hour of daylight still clung to the sky, gradually losing its battle with the moon. You could hear your heart in your head, steadily slowing down as your back lay atop Halsin now, with the other men huddled so close to you, limbs entangled over one another, slipping over the soft, silky velvet sheets. Your body felt flushed, elated, spent, and achy in all the best ways as you felt something warm still leaking out of your holes, gathering on the cover.

You were being kissed softly, massaged gently, and whispered to lovingly. Several lazy kisses were shared before you rested your head against the Archdruid and allowed them to soothe your body with more kisses.

But at the sight of your ladies making their way to the edge of your bed, you’re reminded of a very important task.

Finding your voice again, slightly breathy but steady, you speak. “My final four, that should be all. Karlach will lead you to the bathing room while my ladies attend to me. But the challenge is complete, and I shall see you again soon...”

Falling immediately back into your orders, the men rise, sweaty and half-dazed with softening cocks. Halsin gently but with ease, raised you from him and then settled you down to his side.

When they were all out of bed, they rolled their shoulders back, then turned to you, bowing. You called out to your personal guard and watched as the mighty barbarian marched toward the group of men. Karlach nodded at you once, ordering the men to follow her. As they ambled past, she looked back at you, shooting a quick wink of approval before following the group out of your chamber.

At your side, Shadowheart had already begun her recovery spells over you while Lae’zel prepared a warm bath in the tub that was set up near the balcony. While it heated, she returned with a sponge and began tapping it between your anus and along the opening of your vagina.

Shadowheart grinned, glancing at you. “You were incredible.”

Lae’zel nodded. “Agreed. You rode the waves in a most admirable way.”

You smirked, quietly thanking them as you closed your eyes, falling into their comforting touches.

“So, do you have a verdict?” Shadowheart inquired, tenderly soothing your muscles.

“Yes, I am most eager to learn who shall be our king.”

“Hmm…” You pondered for a long moment, still feeling so tingly and high off ecstasy. When you opened your eyes, they were both looking at you eagerly. “Would the realm have any qualms against four husbands?”

Pretty sure in all my years of writing, I've never written sex for more than a threesome, so this was a little leap! But I hope you enjoyed! 🥵

Who would you have personally chosen?🤔

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 

Strange.

 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?” 

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

[pursuitseternal]

“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding

Based on an anonymous prompt

(HBD @lipstickghoulie )

Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him… how to make a dhampire

CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Press™️

Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist

📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚

You always knew he was… dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.

Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever… must do something…” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some… circles…. Wonder what they do….” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.

Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.

For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was… smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.

One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.

Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.

Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or… since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.

But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.

Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”

“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.

He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess… dear.”

You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you… Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.

You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.

“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.

You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”

“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.

“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel… happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.

“So… the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.

“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.

And he slid that touch closer, and then some.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential….” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.

“I…” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.

“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues…” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so… undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”

“We… we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.

“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.

“…to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.

“Of course…” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”

“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow…”

He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just… so…

You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.

That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.

Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you… you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.

But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the… implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.

You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.

The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.

He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.

It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.

“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside…” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “…Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.

He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.

“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher… higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”

“If I didn't know better…” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.

“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that… excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.

Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.

But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more… and… well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.

He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and… whatever else might happen.

His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.

But no Astarion.

You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.

The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.

Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.

Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”

“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.

And predatory.

And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.

“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of… research… on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.

Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.

Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.

“If my observations are correct… and they usually are…” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”

You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.

You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.

“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital… potent… part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she… curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our…” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “…late night trysts?”

“It’s not something one just… brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not… done…”

Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood…” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it…”

“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual….”

You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.

“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive… alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life…” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “…perhaps one day.”

You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.

“Yes, perhaps one day…” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.

“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say… Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing…” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are…”

You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.

“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not… in season…. And I have only had the single little taste.”

You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.

Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.

Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.

And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.

As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.

“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.

Almost as loud as your moan.

“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting…” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.

“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.

That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.

You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.

“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”

“Yes, Astarion…” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.

You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.

He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.

Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled…'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.

As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.

He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”

You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.

“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”

“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.

“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling…”

You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.

You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire… and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.

[write-and-wander]

That Night

Astarion x Female Tav/Reader Description: A slowed-down, in-depth retelling of the aftermath of the Cazador fight; looking deeper into the thoughts and feelings of Astarion and his lover. Warnings: Violence and trauma mentions

She loved him.

That was all she knew. That was all she could think of, in this moment.

He had finally conquered his demons- no, his own hell. It was over, now, and the story could continue however he wanted it to. And instead of jumping head-first into any direction, he looked to her for guidance. Because despite the past that drove him to this point, the only future he cared about was one she would be a part of.

So he looks to her, bloodied Cazador at his feet, fate-sealing dagger in hand, heart laid out in a state of vulnerability completely unknown, and asks her what to do.

She looks back at him, her own hands bloodied from the exhausting battle they had just endured, and knows that she loves him. She loves him. Just as he is. She wouldn’t wish him any other way.

She can see the fear, yes. The drive for power, and revenge, but even more than that; the ecstasy of being able to take the one thing Cazador wants after he had taken so, so much from Astarion- the perfect act of justice.

And she asks him only to take it from Cazador- she asks him not to take it for himself. She asks him to keep his freedom, rather than submit himself to the shackles of madness that unprecedented power would demand.

And his open, bleeding heart is suddenly soft.

Though he may not get to take and keep, he is more than happy to take and watch evil lose.

So he does.

With shaking body and ragged breath, he drives the dagger into Cazador’s chest as a mortician’s hammer drives nails into a coffin; sealing death. The death of Cazador, the purest form of evil he has ever known. The death of who he could have been, in all the corrupt power he could have basked in. The death of life as he once knew it, defined only by the black and white chess game between power and powerless. He stabs straight through Cazador’s heart, and again, and again, and again; a desperate frenzy that will never quite feel like enough, until he is forced to stop.

His body fails him in its divine relief. Decades of pain, fear, and torture are at last released with his final act. He will never know Cazador’s pain again. His will never have to run from the monster that chases him again. He will never be a toy or a lure again. He is free, and he won, and he is still, somehow, despite everything, in tact. Inexplicable tension is finally let go completely. He collapses to his knees, wails ripping through his chest and echoing against the stone cold walls that surround him.

She watches as her very heart weeps in a grief she could never even begin to comprehend. The heart that beats in her chest seems to twist in its own turmoil, and a sympathetic hand- or perhaps the hand of a friend desperate to grip something else in an attempt to maintain their own balance- finds her shoulder. Her own tears stream down her face, as do the tears of the friends who helped them make it here.

Astarion’s “siblings-” not by blood, but certainly by bond- rush over to him, their faces contorted in concern combined with utter disbelief.

Her mouth opens for a moment; she wants to ask them to stop, to give her heart space to breathe, to please, gods, don’t touch him, but the words stick in her throat. She’s too choked up to speak, but gratitude sinks in as she realizes that this is their moment of blessed freedom, too. They shared in their pain together- they deserve to share in their relief together, too.

He steels himself as they approach, and she sees Astarion the Upper City Magistrate show himself as the suddenly gentler elf seamlessly steps into a place of leadership. The others look to him in a sudden cry for a compass- they are free, but they are left without direction; and he so easily gifts it to them. He gives them direction, and offers what little encouragement he can to the now-freed slaves. Thousands of spawn are suddenly given a second chance, now that the pale elf had changed their fates- a thankless act that outweighs his sins tenfold.

It isn’t until they leave to fulfill their last charge that he returns to his lover. He hesitantly takes her hands in his, and she grasps them with the same gentleness in confidence. He had done it. It was over.

There’s an instinct in her to hug him; to enfold herself around him in an act of love, and yet, she knows her beloved vampire better than that. He will come and effortlessly wrap himself in all that she is when he is ready. Instead, she gently presses kisses onto his bloodied hands.

He looks to the companions that now stand beside her- his friends, who have so selflessly fought for this moment despite his outward reluctance to fight for them.

Though he wouldn’t be able to say it out loud until years later, he loves them. That is what he feels in this moment, in its purest form. Though it is seamlessly woven into waves of gratitude and grief, he feels love. For all of them. For her.

Later that night, after the sun goes down and most of the others had retired to their tents, Astarion does, indeed, find himself in his lover’s tent. Later still, after a long and tear-filled conversation periodically interrupted with near-silent fits of weeping, Astarion buries himself into his lover’s arms. He cries until trance overtakes him.

And all through that night, she holds him.

And the sun rises. And a new day comes. And they will find out all it holds, together.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened. 

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory. 

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize. 

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place. 

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you” 

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up. 

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready” 

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no” 

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything” 

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch. 

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission. 

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other. 

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing. 

[hoover1st]

Procrastinating writing the second chapter to my Magistrate Astarion fic, so I drew how I pictured him instead! I’m trying to do more digital art, but alas, it’s hard.

[roguishcat]

A sound judgement

Thank you so much @pursuitseternal for your request and for giving me this prompt (Magistrate Astarion AU, where he was never turned)! This was an absolute delight to write, even if it took me a while to actually get done. Hope you enjoy it!

Excerpt:

And this was when Astarion remembered that he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him. A small voice in the back of his mind chose to remind him how badly this could backfire. Astarion chose not to heed the warnings of said voice and immediately began plotting.

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader

Tags: some suggestive themes, Astarion being a menace to society, Astarion being a brat, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff

❤️Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think! ❤️

If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment!

The afternoon sunlight brushed warmly against your cheek as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Instead of running around Baldur's Gate, fixing buildings, helping those in need, the Hero of the Gate for once decided to read a newspaper in a park. Something quite mundane for some, a rare luxury for you.

You were not slacking. But you have come to realise that in your bid to please everyone you would soon completely burn out. Which is why you didn’t feel a smidge of guilt when you found yourself going to Bloomridge park instead of the Upper City.

Not having to make any decisions and just simply be for an hour felt absolutely heavenly. Children played, the members of the book club gossiped, and couples whispered among themselves. This was exactly what you loved about this city. No matter how much havoc was wrought, Baldur's Gate healed rapidly and would soon be back to its former glory.

You cast your eyes over the articles in the newspaper. Nothing special, thank the gods. Just silly gossip and the like. You quickly looked through it and gave a happy sigh. No news was always good news in your books!

Yet, no matter how pleasant this little break was, you were well aware that your assistance was needed at ten odd locations today. It was time to get back to work.

Getting up, you looked at the newspaper in your hands and decided that perhaps someone would enjoy reading it. Afterall, there was hardly any reason for you to take the paper with you. And leaving it behind would probably save some poor apprentice a copper. Thus assured that you were doing no harm, you folded the newspaper up neatly and set it down on the park bench for another to enjoy.

Just as you were about to walk away, you heard someone clear their throat loudly.

"What do you think you are doing?"

It was one of the Fists. You didn't recognise him. Perhaps it was a new recruit, seeing as otherwise he would have known who you were.

"Excuse me?"

"You are littering," he stated, pointing to the newspaper with an accusatory finger.

Ah, so a simple misunderstanding.

"I am not littering,” you smiled pleasantly, in spite of feeling that it was rather strange of the Fist to worry about something as inconsequential as litter out of all things. “Just thought someone else might enjoy reading the paper now that I'm done with it."

The Fist did not look impressed by your explanation. In fact, if anything he seemed even more set in his belief that a heinous crime was being committed in broad daylight.

"I am arresting you for littering in a public garden," he seemed to think about it for a moment. "And for arguing with a city guard."

"I've hardly said any-"

"Resisting arrest, are we?" he drawled, making your mouth tighten as you bit back a snarky retort.

"No, I will come with you willingly," you grumbled.

Perhaps if you played along for a bit, you could talk to someone of a higher rank. Saying anything to an overly eager guard who was obstinately sticking to his accusations would just attract onlookers.

"Good. The judge is waiting for your arrival."

"What? What do you mean judge?" you frowned. What business did any judge have looking into misdemeanours and especially something like littering?

"His Honor Judge Ancunín is waiting for you. Don't dawdle. It's rude to keep him waiting."

Suddenly all of this made sense. You ground your teeth and followed the Fist. Of course it was Astarion! That ass!

"Oh, trust me. Him waiting for me will be the least of his worries once I see him."

You felt that you had every right to be annoyed at Astarion. No scratch that. You had every right to be livid and spitting fire! Because this was the fourth time that bastard got you arrested in a little more than a month! And every single bloody time if was for something dumb and trivial. You had no idea how Astarion managed to do it, how he knew exactly where you would be, and how he convinced those Fists that he was to be the judge handling your case.

That stupid, stupid ass!

He couldn’t just come by the tavern and talk to you like someone normal. No, he needed a show of power, especially with him being promoted to judge in high court! Because apparently this was how Astarion got his kicks nowadays. He needed for you to be near forcibly escorted to the courtroom and thrown at his feet. Preferably pleading for mercy and asking him if there was any way that you could make it up to him.

You scowled. The whole scenario just sounded like the plot of some cheap, third-rate smutty novel one would pick up at Sharess'. But if he thought that you would cower before him, that elf had another thing coming!

On the other side of the city, Astarion Ancunín was drumming his fingers against some book he was supposedly reading. Astarion was in a foul mood. It's been several months since the defeat of the Absolute. He and the merry band that defeated the cultists were celebrated just as you deserved for about a tenday, and then went back to your lives. Halsin was immediately off with his wagonfuls of brats, Gale returned to Waterdeep, Shadowheart went to live with her parents in the countryside, Wyll and Karlach waged war in Avernus whilst Lae’zel sought to overthrow Vlaakith. In short, everyone left the city except you and Astarion. Well, Jaheira and Minsc were probably about, but he didn’t care about them enough to check.

For a while, Astarion enjoyed the privileges that came with the title of Savior of Baldur's Gate. The fame had him moving up the ranks with impressive speed until he was promoted from magistrate to judge. No more minor cases! Oh no, he was in the big leagues now. And he was so, so bored.

Astarion could hardly believe that this dull, bureaucratic crap was all he did for years until he got tadpoled. And in the past, he enjoyed it well enough. But having experienced the thrill of adventure, the rush of adrenalin, the drama and the fun of travelling, he could not fathom sitting at a desk for the rest of his long, long life.

Which was when he realised that the only acceptable source of entertainment was you. Except getting to you was easier said than done. Everyone wanted your time and, being the annoyingly selfless creature that you were, it was near impossible to find any window of opportunity and see you for longer than a few minutes. And by the gods Astarion wanted to.

You two shared a couple passionate encounters when you were on the road and decided that you were better of as friends. Well, at least you decided that. Astarion was not quite on board with the whole platonic thing, but with death literally being around every corner, he begrudgingly agreed that a budding romance was the last thing you both needed at the time.

And this was how the two of you became friends. Except Astarion wanted more, so much more. And herein lay the problem. He never in the past had to woo anyone. His good looks and roguish charms were generally enough to have everyone chasing after him. An interested look and a smirk would often be enough for his potential lovers to drop their pants fast.

But this tactic, if one could really call it that, didn’t actually work on you. And he tried showing his interest. Astarion invited you on outings and to parties. Afterall, there were soiree aplenty where he his resplendent beauty would definitely be reason enough for you to want to sneak away and spend some quality time in some secluded alcove. Except yoh would actually have to turn up for that to happen.

Not deterred, Astarion tried sending you gifts and you sent him something equally pleasant back. Which he interpreted as 'thanks for the present, but not for the interest'. This had him gritting his teeth in annoyance but surprisingly not giving up.

Because he wanted, and craved and yearned. He wanted nothing more than sequester you in his rooms and not allow you to leave for weeks. Or until he felt that he fucked that whole ‘friendship’ idea out of your mind.

And this was when Astarion remembered that he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him. A small voice in the back of his mind chose to remind him how badly this could backfire. Astarion chose not to heed the warnings of said voice and immediately began plotting.

So he abused his power in every way, had you arrested time and time again, dragged through the city and thrown into prison to await his judgement. You should have been flattered really that he went to all that trouble simply to arrange a meeting. Honestly, most wanted nothing more than to have a passing glance from him, when you had the entirety of his attention!

Except something seemed different this time. When you walked into the courtroom and levelled him with a look previously reserved for your enemies, Astarion wondered if perhaps his plan was not quite as foolproof as he had thought.

But it was too late to back out. He assumed a sort of casually reclining bored noble position and waited for the Fist to read out what you were being charged with.

It was a surprisingly long list. Perhaps Astarion should have chosen a less zealous guard.

As each wrongdoing was reported to him, Astarion couldn’t help but worry about the way your face darkened by the minute as your eyes shot daggers. He was quite sure that it would have been actual steel piercing his flesh by now if it weren’t for all those witnesses.  

“Enough,” he lifted his arm with an imperious look, making the Fist pause, only half-done with his report.

“Your Honor?”

“I see that this matter does indeed require my special attention. Yet, seeing as this is the Hero of the Gate,” he paused for dramatic effect noting with annoyance that this seemed to have the desired effect only on the scribe, the Fist and whatever staff were about rather than you, “I may be persuaded to lift the charges.”

“How generous of you…. Your Honor,” you said in a reverent tone that contradicted your face expression.

Astarion gulped, to his confusion feeling both concerned and aroused.

"Well,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, “I am nothing but generous."

"Of course. And earnest too!" you nodded. “Why, I am sure that your impartial perspective will allow you to deliver an objective verdict-"

"You forget yourself!” Astarion cut you off abruptly. He rather enjoyed your insolence, but appearances had to be kept up. “Justice should be a harsh lesson. To make sure that no such offense occurs in the future. I ought to administer the punishment where you stand. Make an example of you."

"Well, what are you waiting for, your Honour?” You leaned forward slightly and lowered your voice. “Punish me as you see fit."

Astarion thanked every god he could think of at that moment that he was required to wear loose fitting robes. Because he was already half-mast and carrying on with this conversation would eventually make his problem rather obvious to all present. That would be the Fist, the mages, the scribe, and whoever else was milling about that he generally did not notice. Wholly unacceptable.

"Do follow me, no guards required, thank you."

"But- but your Honor!” the Fist stammered, clutching the report to his chest. “What if she tries to assault you!"

"Trust me, I am perfectly capable of handling this one."

He pretended not to notice you rolling your eyes, motioning for you to follow as he started for his office.

You made your way down the long, winding halls, quite sure that you would be lost if it wasn’t for Astarion. Every now and then the surface of the walls would ripple, and a clerk would emerge from the depths of a secret passage and shuffle past, head bowed and curling in on themselves, only to sink into the opposite wall. If you were to press your fingertips against the surface, you were sure that you would find solid stone.

The narrow hallway widened and you walked into what appeared to be the archive, shelves filled with scrolls, stone tablets and books. A veritable cornucopia of every kind of crime carefully recorded and catalogued over centuries. You scowled as you thought of how your supposedly atrocious crimes were among the entries.

You walked up two flights of stairs and finally reached the door to what seemed to be Astarion’s office. The elf opened the door and stood aside, letting you walk in first. You scoffed and pushed past him, making a show of flicking your hair in his face. Astarion drew back a little with a grin, anticipating you doing something so childish.

The door clicked closed behind you and immediately magic hummed to life.

"Arcane Lock? Really?" you arched an eyebrow.

 "Just so we don't get disturbed, dearest."

Your eyes followed Astarion as he walked around his desk and sat in the beautifully upholstered chair. Just like everything else in his office, it looked eye-wateringly expensive and imported.

"How may I help you on this fine day?" he motioned for you to take a seat on the other side of the desk.

"How may you-"

You cut yourself off and took a few deep breaths before you said something terse that would get thrown into prison. Again. You took a seat, noticing immediately that your chair looked much less comfortable. Trust Astarion to make his company squirm in their seats.

"Astarion, I think-"

"Your Honor," he corrected you with a smirk.

"Fine, whatever! Tell me, oh great Judge Ancunín, ignoring the abuse of power, the made up charges and you potentially bribing the city guard into arresting me, what are you actually hoping to get out of this, hm?"

Astarion took off his glasses and started polishing them with careful, unhurried movements. Outwardly he was the epitome of calm and grace, the one in charge. Inwardly, however, he didn’t have a clue what to do now that he had your full, undivided attention.

Because eloquence in the courtroom apparently did not translate into eloquence with you. Astarion was kind of hoping that you would just somehow fall into his arms and then the two of you would forget about the battle of wits in favour of something far more engaging. But apparently you wanted a real, honest answer. And that would be tricky seeing as he didn’t know how to put what he felt into words.

The silence stretched, tensions high, your patience almost at its end.

"Do you know what? Fine,” you spat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don't answer that. It was stupid of me to think that you would treat me as a friend. I'm just going to pay a fine or whatever else I have to do and be out of your hair. You obviously have better things to do around here than talk to my lowly self."

"I never wanted to be your friend,” he interjected, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Well," you cleared your throat, annoyed at yourself for feeling hurt by his words. "You've made that plenty obvious."

Understanding that you misinterpreted his words, Astarion quickly grasped your sleeve as you prepared to rise.

"I- I am not sure exactly what I want,” he frowned, looking down at the polished wood of his desk.  “I have very little experience of wanting to be around others for the sake of enjoying their company. Getting acquainted with someone was always done with one purpose in mind, to climb the social ladder until I came out on top," he gave a little high-pitched laugh, running his fingers through his hair to brush it back.

"So when it comes to you, my dear, the last thing I want is to be your friend,” he took a deep breath, letting go of your sleeve to interlace his fingers to stop himself from fidgeting. “I have never wanted to be just friends with anyone less in my life.”

“And I don't know what you are to me,” he took a breath to summon the courage to carry on. “But when I look at you, I ache. We are good together. There is a potential for... something wonderful,” he did look up then, eyes locking with yours. “And I want to find out what that is, if you want that too."

You were stunned, momentarily speechless. Looking at him as if you were seeing him properly for the first time. Because it has been so long since you've seen that raw, earnest expression on his face. Body language filling in whatever blanks that were left behind by words.

"Oh hells, say something," he pleaded and put his hands on top of yours.

And then you were in his lap and your lips were on his, because you would be lying to yourself if you did anything but kiss him at that moment.

"You are still an ass," were the first words out of your mouth when you broke apart.

"Yes, dear," he kissed you jaw and then down your neck.

"I can't believe you had me arrested!"

"And I probably will again if you take days to answer my letters or otherwise ignore me," Astarion was already done with the ties of your outer clothing, discarding them by throwing them carelessly somewhere behind you.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to be escorted to the courthouse? I bet newspapers will have a field day with this!"

"And any journalist who writes a word about this will be brought before me."

You tried to get his robes off him but were having trouble with the diamond encrusted broach holding the cravat in place.

"Argh, why do you insist on decorating yourself with all of these useless baubles!"

"Well, someone has to support the local businesses. You do your bit to see Baldur's Gate restored, I do mine."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed, finally getting a glimpse of his chest and running your hands down soft skin with a sigh.

"Feeling happier dear?"

You felt a breeze on your shoulders and then Astarion's hands cupped your breasts.

"No, I'm still annoyed at you."

"Well then I must double my efforts."

Clerks scuttled about the endless, winding halls, each wanting to impress their superiors.

A loud thump was heard, and a tremor reverberated throughout the building, making the panes of glass zing in protests.

A young human clerk gasped, "What in the hells is going on?"

"Judge Ancunín is questioning the Hero of Baldur's Gate," another replied with a yawn, seemingly not worried.

"This sounded bad, do you think he will need a hand?"

"What, ya mean since his own hands are full?"

The other clerks tittered, picking up scrolls and putting them back on the shelves.

"Oi, stop being mean to the newbie!" someone called from a distance.

"Or be even more of an ass and let him barge in, that would be even more entertaining," a tiefling chortled without looking up from his scroll.

"So, no one is in danger?" He said slowly, not really sure whether he was meant to ignore whatever was going on during an interrogation.

"Nope, in fact, I'm pretty sure that next couple of days are going to be easy," the tiefling took another scroll and added it to the pile in front of him.

Another tremor went through the building, making an ink pot fall off the desk.

"What do you think is going on there?" the young clerk whispered to the co-worker that seemed fairly friendly, unlike the rest.

"Aw crap, don't tell me that no one explained the birds and the bees to you yet?"

"Oh. Oh!" He gasped, a blush dusting his cheeks as realisation set in.

A halfling carrying thick tomes past his desk stage-whispered to no one in particular, "This one is not the sharpest quill, right?"

"Shit! Code Arsehole! Judge Buttershed is in our wing!"

An elf burst in, every head turning in his direction. The clerks stopped laughing, one hurrying down the hall towards Judge Ancunín’s office whilst the rest got to work with impressive speed.

"Why are you even covering for Judge Ancunín?"

The tiefling rolled his eyes at the newbie but graciously chose to reply.

"Because in spite of his eccentric ways and borderline obsession with the Hero of the Gate, he is the best we've had in years! Do you want to have to rewrite all your scrolls because your handwriting is neither here nor there?"

"Gods, do you remember the 'no use of magic above Level 1 in governmental buildings’?"

"Pft, that was nothing,” a handsome elf with long hair put up in a severe, tight chignon scoffed. “I heard they used to have gremishkas just to make sure no one used magic on site.”

"He's here!"

Most would not understand what the commotion was even about. To a casual observer, Judge Buttershed would appear fairly unremarkable. Just a short, portly man with a sweaty face and capricious expression whose spectacles were woefully unfashionable even a century ago. His whole demeanour screamed that he disliked everyone in this room immensely and could not wait to go back to his wing, where according to him things were still done the right way, and settle into his chair in his office.

"I heard that Ancunín was late for court yesterday. Again. Although, judging by the disorder I see here,” he boomed, a little spittle flying forth, “this is of little surprise. Therefore, I feel it is my duty to give him a stern talk."

"Considering his status, your Honour, is that wise?”

Judge Buttershed looked down his nose at the half-elf who dared contradict him.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? I will make sure to fire you first once Ancunín is out of here,” he pointed a fat finger at the clerk.

Expecting to see fear and reverence in forest-green eyes and finding neither, he cursed under his breath and made his way down the hall, muttering to himself and shooting hard looks at whoever happened to cross his path.

Thus assured that he was doing the only thing that would save Baldur’s Gate judicial system from collapse, Buttershed burst through the doors, all righteous anger, ready to deliver his judgement. Only to find his rival and the Hero of the Gate sipping tea, engaged in amicable conversation.

“Oh? To what do I owe the honour Buttershed?” Astarion quirked a brow. “What was important enough for you to barge into my office without making an appointment with my secretary?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way, you- you- charlatan! You know full well that you have no business sullying these halls with your disgusting presence!”

“Astarion? Who is this? I will make sure to mention him the next time I pay a visit to Duke Ravengard,” your voice was pleasant enough but the look you levelled the intruder with spoke volumes. “In fact, I was going to call on Ulder tomorrow. Luckily, with us being old friends and all, I hardly need to bother to make an appointment!”

Judge Buttershed was defeated, and he knew it. Whilst he was prepared to take on Ancunín, feeling that he could successfully make a case and prove that the elf committed professional misconducts, the Supreme Marshall of the Flaming Fists was not someone to trifle with. Bidding his farewells to you only, he left the room in a flurry of silk and barely concealed complaints muttered under his breath.

“Now, my dear. That was most impressive,” Astarion purred, taking a sip of tea.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you shrugged, picking out a particularly scrumptious-looking biscuit and happily crunching on it. And then selecting one more, wondering if Astarion would mind terribly if you took the rest with you.

“I mean, you accuse yours truly, saying that I abuse my power. But are you any better?” he set his cup aside to place a kiss on the corner of your lips, your cheek and under your jaw. “It’s nice to know that the heroes are as bad as the rest of us.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Astarion,” you popped the biscuit into your mouth with a smile. “Now then, I must leave. Seeing as I missed most of my appointments for today and have to reschedule, don’t expect to see me for a while.”

His hands tightened round your middle, head resting in the crook of your neck.

“Must you leave?”

“For now. But I will make sure to come by in the next few days or so, okay? I miss you when I’m not around you,” you admitted, looking at him from underneath long lashes. “But there is so much to be done still… I feel selfish. For feeling so happy.”

Ah. And that was your most vexing quality that he exploited so readily when you first started travelling together. Your damnable selflessness. He loved you for it. He hated that you extended it to others.

Astarion sighed into your shoulder and withdrew. You felt the absence of his warmth so acutely that it took all your willpower to turn around and walk out of his door at that moment.

Astarion got you arrested on five more occasions before he finally summoned the courage to ask you to move in with him. Not for any particular reason. You were barely home as it was, so did it really matter which space you cluttered up with your armour and such? Which corner you tossed your boots in at the end of a long, tiring day?

Astarion, of course, being quite meticulous, made sure to organise your things for you. He began by colour-coding your undergarments drawer. To which he got a mixed response, considering he expected nothing but enthusiasm and gratitude.

A year into you living together, Astarion tossed a book onto your shared bed with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Dearest, I got you this. Considering you might not have enough reading material.”

“The ‘Court of Love’? Let me guess, you saw the title of this smutty little number and just couldn’t pass by?”

“Something like that. Would you indulge me by reading out a passage or two whilst I get ready to retire for the night?”

You narrowed your eyes. Something seemed off.

“What are you up to, Astarion?”

“My love! Your suspicions wound me!” Astarion crawled onto the bed and leaned against the bedframe.

You didn’t trust him for one second, but decided to play along for now, being a little curious yourself.

“The culprit was dragged in front of the magistrate. Her heavy breasts heaving with every laboured breath, nipples erect and pointing in his direction… Oh gods, this is terrible!” you chortled, making yourself comfortable and putting your head on Astarion’s bare chest.

“Isn’t it? Go on then, I want to hear what happens next,” he grinned, twirling a strand of your hair around his long fingers.

You giggled and turned the page.

“The magistrate rose in one swift movement, his eyes flashing and muscles flexing. He moved slowly, a predator circling his prey. Her eyes followed him, heart hammering as he breasts rose and fell with every breath, her nipples-  What is with this writer and nipples?” you rolled your eyes.

“Hot, isn’t it?”

Astarion was clearly having a whale of a time, though he seemed to be familiar with the text, his attention directed at you, as if wanting to make sure he caught every reaction, every expression.

“Are the nipples meant to be moving around so much? They could be out there directing foot traffic! I’m guessing that you picked this up at Sharess’?”

“Indeed, I did! And who are you to judge the quality of this book!” Astarion said with an air of a mother defending her child. “I’ll have you know, it was sold out in hours! I worked hard to get my hands on this copy!”

Then something clicked in your mind. You read the next two pages quickly.

“Magistrate Arunin and the Hero of the Coast? Astarion, is this based on us?” you looked at the cover at the book to check the name of the author. And sure enough, it was the Fist that arrested you for littering and then two more times after that.

“I’m going to kill him!” you growled, throwing the book on the floor. “And I don’t mean that in a cutesy way. I mean I will literally run my sword through him,” you pushed against Astarion’s chest. The elf gripped you tighter to stop you from leaving, as you were clearly intent on making good on your promise in spite of the late hour.

“Being a slave to the quill is truly a dangerous profession these days,” Astarion laughed, flipping you over and manoeuvring you so swiftly that you felt a little dizzy until he had you pinned against the bed.

“Now, whilst that murderous glint in your eyes is truly fetching, I think our energies would be better spent on each other rather than on some writer. Besides,” he went on, popping button after button open and pulling your shirt open slowly, fingers trailing along your skin, “I hear that he is planning on writing a sequel. And I find myself eager to read what depraved adventures the magistrate and the hero will get up to.”

Your words of outrage were quickly cut of by insistent lips as Astarion kissed you, tongue darting out through the smallest opening in his mouth to coax your own to open. And then there was no more talking, just groans and sighs, and gasps and moans.

As night bled into morning and you were fast asleep, Astarion congratulated himself on his usual practical sagacity, as once again his sound judgement resulted in an outcome most pleasant. Perhaps you were not keen on his brilliant plan at first, but you had no reasons to complain about his ways of going about getting what he wanted now.

And thus assured that he was always right, Astarion pulled you closer and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

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[scrapsovereign]

Surprise!! I turned it in to a prequel! Because what’s more fun than suffering?

I Think He Knows - Chapter 2

Link to Story on AO3:

Summary: You're able to enjoy a little bit more time with Astarion before the long arm of the law calls him back to the courthouse.

(POV female Reader x Magistrate Astarion/almost 4k words of very NSFW, straight up filth underneath the cut)

Soft, worn linens greet your backside as you are cast unceremoniously onto the bed by Astarion.

He watches you with hungry approval when he drops you, delighting in how every delicious, soft part of you jiggles.

“In order to punish you properly, I’ll require a confession of the events that led up to the moment I arrived home,” he intones dispassionately above you. You find your legs squeezing together again with his words that flow like spun silk…nevermind the fact that he was just between them.

“Once I have determined the true nature of your transgressions, we can administer your punishment- which should be equal to the crime, of course. When that has been squared away, we can negotiate your release. But, I must warn you, darling…” the cool indifference of his voice has an edge that you recognize and it makes your center clench in anticipation.

You’re not the only one who's still aroused. You catch a brief glimpse of how his hard cock twitches as he speaks, aching to be buried inside you again.

“...I won’t go easy on you,” the low growl that is matched by an equally villainous look makes you whimper and your over-eager sex spasm.

Nor do you want him to. Hells, if this is what coming home early and getting caught masturbating in your husband’s shirt gets you, you make a mental note to misbehave more often.

Leaning over to cage you between his arms, he looks over the pretty flush of your cheeks, swollen and soft lips begging to be kissed, firm buds of your pert nipples he wants to snatch between his teeth and lavish with his tongue. He is momentarily lost, seeing himself reflected in pupils blown out so wide they hide the band of gorgeous irises he’d composed a dozen improvised sonnets to over the years.

You are lost as well, so enraptured by his reverence of you that when he dives to claim your lips it startles you a bit.

It’s not one of the sweet, romantic kisses you’ve received from him- the kind that make you melt and sigh against him in bliss.

No, the urgent way he explores your mouth is that of a man starved for you- the only way to temporarily sate his bottomless appetite is allowing him to feast upon your body and consume you in entirety.

And gods above, you’ll let him.

Oh, he loves how much you eagerly fight back against him and match his pace, letting you know with an erotic groan.

It would have continued too, if your damned hands hadn’t reached down to stroke the twitching, velvety hardness of his length. Your fingers have just begun to trace up the bottom of his shaft when he huffs a curse into your open mouth. You yelp in surprise when he pulls away and pushes you back down to the bed.

The spell broken, he rises, sitting back on his knees above you to look down upon you with villainous intent.

“My naughty little love,” he rumbles above you with a disapproving click of his tongue. “I fear if you cannot keep your hands to yourself, then I will have to physically restrain you. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” you state with an affirming nod, a devilish twinkle in your eyes.

You’re lying.

You decided as soon as he brought up the idea of restraining you that you want this, and you’re going to cause problems on purpose.

“Good. Now, my sweet. Walk me through what happened this morning. And please, spare no detail,” he drawls, eyes fixated on the point in between your legs that is once again, completely soaked.

“We didn’t have that much further to go, and decided to just push through the evening and get in early this morning,”

“I stopped on the way home to grab some things from the market that are in the icebox…but…” You trail off as if you’re forgetting something. You aren’t, you’ve done this before. It’s one of your favorite ways to mess with him. He’ll repeat the word you’re going to say as a follow-up to prompt you to say more.

“But…?” He questions, as predicted.

“Well now that you mention it,” you scoot yourself down so you can take a lecherous handful of his shapely rear with both your greedy open palms. Your hands are caught with his firm grip and you make contact with the sheets again with a soft ‘oof’.

He’s pinning your arms over your head with his own, his gorgeous body stretched out over yours. Cool, damp silver curls brush against your forehead, a sharp contrast to the hot, pink intrusion of his erection that has landed in between your legs against your moist slit.

“I’m going to get the rope out of the bedside table. I want you to stay here, just like this, my darling,” he murmurs, making the barest of contact with your full lips.

“And I don’t want you to move,” he gasps, undulating so that his length moves up against your damp core, dragging the head of his cock against your swollen clit.

“A single…” he repeats the motion, and you trust your hips up to meet him, huffing out a curse at how good he feels to rut against.

“…muscle.”

He’s released you, and you whine at the loss of the incredible sensation of his teasing. You slump against the bed as he searches for the fine silk cord, listening to him rummage through drawers he insisted on re-organizing a month ago.

“When I said don’t move a muscle, I meant every word, love.”

Oh. So that’s how he wants to do this today.

Must’ve been a really long week.

You arch your back, lifting your hips slightly, holding the pose for him while he continues to shuffle around your things. He does locate and set down a familiar glass bottle, your eyebrows lifting at the noise. Your heart races and the spot between your legs absolutely throbs at the idea of activities that would require the grease bottle.

“Ah ha! Here we are,” he exclaims as you hear him shut the four wooden drawers he has opened.

“Was it in the bottom drawer on the far side?” You ask sweetly, staring up at the ceiling with a grin. He hums, decidedly ignoring you as he ties your hands gently together with the silken ropes. You feel him slip his fingers through and pinch the tip of the finger to check for circulation just like you taught him, shimmying the release end of the quick release knot he’s tied into your hands.

He circles the bed again and you begin to set your hips down when he clears his throat, looking down at you with tranquil disapproval. You raise your hips up again, feeling your muscles begin to shake with the strain as you hold yourself up for him.

“Well? You arrived home? Continue,” he orders, tracing his manicured nails up the outside of your trembling thighs.

“I admit, I left my pack, my dirty boots, and my dirty armor all in the foyer. I was going to come back and deal with it before you got home, I just ended up getting …distracted,” you gasp out. You whimper as the traces of his nails migrate to your inner thighs, quivering as if you had just been tossed in an ice-crusted lake in the dead of winter.

“Distracted how, love?”

“I came upstairs, took a nap, and had the wildest, horniest dream about you. I was going to clean up and get in the bath, and then I noticed your shirt. I put it on. Gods, Astarion, it smelled just like you were standing right next to me…I don’t know what came over me, it drove me mad. I wanted you so, so badly right then,” you whimper as he increases the pressure of the drag of his nails up the tops of your legs, pausing around the crest of your hips.

“Hmm,” he splays his hands out on your pelvis, feeling you vibrate as you hold position for him. His neutral expression gives nothing away but his eyes are on your center again, watching a small rivulet of clear slick drip down and pool on the sheets below.

“You have to understand…I missed you so much while I was away, and we shared a room so it’s not like l could touch myself for any relief, and that damned message you sent me a few days ago still had me worked up,” you thrust your hips upwards and gasp your words out when he moves his hands down, resting both thumbs on the side of your clit.

“You weren’t alone for that?” He gasps in feigned shock, the bastard. If only he could have seen you murmuring equally obscene things back to him under your breath while you frantically searched for a hidden corner, a private booth, an empty cellar…

He moves his hands out of the way of your attempts to move the pads of his fingers to your sensitive flesh.

“My beautiful wife, surrounded by handsome, swarthy adventurers, the subject of unspeakably deviant sending spells from her husband. You poor dear! No wonder you’re in such a state,” He pouts, running his hands up towards your breasts.

You stop your movements when you process what he’s said. One, gross, they’re your coworkers. Two, just…why? Sleeping with one of them would be like spoiling your meal with street meat from a market vendor stall when you have Faerun’s finest steak dinner waiting for you at home.

“Astarion, I would never dream of taking anyone else to my bed, no matter how aroused I am from your teasing and torturing while I’m away. It just makes me crave you more, hence how you found me- three fingers deep,” you state matter-of-factly to him, your muscles steadying their trembling.

“Relax.”

Your sweaty body drops to lay boneless against the bed at his command, luxuriating in the softness beneath your cramping muscles.

“Three fingers deep, she says! I was going to have you provide a demonstration for me of your…activities that lead to the conclusion you had almost arrived at but seeing as how you can’t be trusted...”

“You have me rather intrigued about this dream of yours. It wasn’t one of… those, was it?” He quirks up an eyebrow as he climbs on to the bed, lounging on an elbow next to you.

Your own eyebrows knit together and you feel something in the pit of your stomach hit the bottom as you question yourself. Shit, it did kinda have that feeling to it, now that you think of it.

These dreams of yours were both a blessing and a curse. They had initially drawn you to the path of a healer as a child. You would scandalize your upper class peers by how they would accurately and inconveniently predict pregnancies, tell you which adventurer wouldn’t make it back, and had even introduced you to Astarion before you had crossed paths.

You dreamt of your first kiss in the pouring rain months before meeting him.

When you were introduced, you had a full on vision of your wedding, exactly as it happened years later in the moment when he kissed your hand.

You bite your lip and look up at him out of the corner of your vision. The ones you’d had lately were nightmares, and you hadn’t told him about the one you had while you were out this week where he was attacked after leaving work late one night. They’d been getting more frequent, more violent, permeating you with a feeling of dread that sat heavily on your chest.

“It was so crazy I don’t think it could ever be real. Promise you won’t laugh. You were…a vampire.”

“Hah! I mean,” he huffs out a laugh, then slaps his free hand over his mouth to silence himself and gain his composure. “Please, darling, continue.”

“You ass,” You hiss out, wriggling next to him. You could tug on the rope end, free yourself, and smack him on the arm, but you’re enjoying this far too much.

Besides, you still haven’t found out why he brought out the grease.

“We were out in a forest. You came out without your shirt on, said some cheesy lines, and then you kissed me… I got on my knees and pleasured you with my…” Your jaw goes slack and your mouth waters as he starts to stroke himself languidly.

“What? It’s quite salacious, how could you not expect me to touch myself?” The filthy moan that follows his commentary makes you clench and wonder how soaked the sheets have to be underneath you.

“I…I pleasured you with my mouth, and then right before you came you backed me against a tree and I came twice while you licked and fingered me.”

“Mmm, I see. Like this?” In one motion, he fastens his mouth over your clit, sucking, licking, devouring you.

“Oh gods, yes- just like that! You put my legs around your waist and had me there, and I came again, but I still wanted more- ahh!”

Two fingers slip easily in your welcoming, slippery heat. He pumps them inside of you briskly while he hooks his fingers up toward the front of your walls, rubbing the digits against a spongy surface that makes you temporarily see stars. You cry out and arch your lower back against the bed, and begin eagerly bucking your hips up to ride against his hand.

It feels so good, you’re clenching harder around his fingers, you’re so close, just a few more seconds, yes …

He stills his fingers inside you.

“And what did you want, love?” He asks innocently with lips covered in the sheen of your arousal.

“I wanted more, deeper, I wanted you to fill me, I wanted to feel every inch of you. I said some stupid thing to catch you off guard and I pushed you down and landed on top-ahh!” He pushes three fingers into you now, setting a sensually slower pace.

“That can’t be all that happened…'' The sound of his hedonistic goading makes you clench again, this time around his fingers. This man and his voice! He could read you something as dry as a court report and make you climax from that alone- and you suspect he knows it, too.

Astarion bites his lower lip, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you resume fucking yourself on his hand. The tension that builds inside of you is intense as he massages the spot deeper with more pressure, setting a pace you can intentionally move your hips with.

“Oh, no, it didn’t end there. You rolled me over-! Yes, touch me just like that, that feels so good…and then you lifted my hips up, pressed my legs down, and then you bit me,” you rasp out, immediately groaning in frustration when he stops. Again.

“Did I?” He looks down at you, his face twisted in perverse fascination.

“You did,” you whimper out as he pulls his fingers from you.

He makes a show of licking the viscous fluids for you off his hands like he had spilled a jar of honey upside down over them, groaning in pleasure as he laps up the fluids of arousal. It would be ridiculous for anyone else to see, but you’d be damned if this isn’t the most erotic thing you’ve seen this week. You gasp out as your core clenches at the very sight of him.

“By the Gods, my love- if your blood tastes as good to ‘vampire me’ as your juices do, the magnificent bastard would never be left wanting. But maybe you want that- sharp fangs piercing your neck, feeling your life slip away. You liked it, didn’t you?”

“It hurt a little bit, but the pleasure was unlike anything I could imagine. I came again when you drank from me, you did as well,” you admit, your pretty face flushed in shame. You’d never been what the younger adventurers referred to crudely as a “monsterfucker”, but there was something about your love with that predatory look in his eyes and pointy teeth that awakened something feral in you.

“I’m not surprised I’m such a generous lover, even in your subconscious. However, who ever knew my sweet, blue-blooded, black-sheep healer was such a degenerate?” His negging makes you bark out a laugh.

“You did, darling,” you reply, imitating his signature coquettish expression and flirtatious tone.

“Well. I certainly understand your motivation, now. I think I’ve heard enough to properly sentence you,” he is all business now as he announces this to you, getting to his knees.

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. Turn around, get on your knees, and bend over for me, pet.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice.

You feel his erection press up against your entrance as he leans over you, pressing a single kiss to your earlobe that sends a chill down your spine.

“I’m going to spank you. One for leaving a mess downstairs, one for napping while you’re filthy in our clean sheets, and then three more for thinking you could pretend to lie to me. I want you to count down and keep track. Start… now. ”

He sits up and you feel the sharp smack of his palm against your backside.

“One…”

A second strike, this one harder than the first, hits the same exact spot. The vibration from your buttocks jiggling makes you bite your lip, you can feel it travel straight to your aching center.

“Two…ahh!”

Your other cheek is assaulted now, and you flinch, your hips jutting back to meet his twitching, painfully hard cock.

“Three, ohhhh yes, Astarion,” you moan wantonly, trying to gain purchase on the head that presses to your folds with your hips.

Two strikes land on that same cheek.

“Four! Five!”

The sting is soothed by the reassuring warmth of the hands that linger on your backside.

You swear you can feel a trail of your slippery arousal drip down the inside of your thigh.

“That’s my good girl. You took your punishment so well. Would you like your release?” You catch a slight tremble in the cant of his words, practiced hands shaking ever-so-slightly under the strain of his ravenous desire for you.

“Please, oh Gods yes, please,” you feel the tip of him tease your folds, the head of his shaft tapping the exposed, slick pearl of your clit as he throbs up against you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up, my bloodthirsty counterpart must have excited you terribly,” his husky, breathy observation betrays him now. You know that tone of voice. It’s obvious he wants to be inside you, to feel you fall apart around him, to fill you again with his salty essence.

“Astarion, please, I need you inside me, please fuck me, let me cum on your cock-“ your desperate, almost incoherent babbling is interrupted by another loud crack. You moan loudly, unable to hold back any pretense that you feel anything short of utter bliss. It should sting, and you know from the pressure that it’ll leave a mark.

“Six?”

You crane your head to look back at him inquisitively. Not that you don’t mind extra punishment, but isn’t this more than he intended?

Not by the look in his eyes.

He’s never “seen you that worked up”? Can he see himself in the mirror right now?

You barely recognize the man behind you, eyes burning bright with dark desire, almost shimmering with sweat in the mid-day rays of sun that stream in through curtained windows in your bedroom.

All at once, he sheathes himself inside you, pulls your body up with his hand at your throat, and yanks your head aside to murmur sinful words at your pulse.

“Yes, darling. Six. For the mess you’re about to make cumming on the sheets.”

Suddenly, he is enthusiastically thrusting into you with abandon, battering that spot within you where his fingers were during the re-telling of your dream. You feel him stutter briefly underneath you as you shatter around him only after a few snaps of his hips, your vision going white, your ears ringing, your body going slack in an arch against his chest.

He doesn’t stop. He reaches down to your clit, strumming you with his fingers like a lute, your body singing to him in response with your cries and sobs of pleasure. You feel yourself tighten, the tension building again as he rasps a single command directed at your ears.

“Again.”

You feel his teeth sink into your neck as he bites you.

Your brain short-circuits, your knees give out, and you feel a stream of fluid expel itself forcefully from you as you climax again.

The bite is short lived- he shouts your name with his own release, the sound muffled as he is sucking a bruise on your neck. His thrusts slow down, guiding you both through the aftershocks of your orgasms. You both collapse on to the bed and turn to face each other, meeting halfway in a breathy, passionate kiss.

“I love you so much- what is it?” You make a face of surprise from his snarl at the end of his post-coital love confession- must be a sending spell from Dorian, his page. You see panic in his suddenly clear eyes as they focus on the gently set aside black silk robes.

“We adjourned for the weekend already, sentencing is at the beginning of the next tenday,” He sits up, clearly irritated that whatever boundary he had set is being ignored. You watch him groan and pinch the bridge of his nose.

He’s definitely talking to Dorian.

“Alright then. I had… plans this afternoon, but give me an hour and I’ll be back at the office.”

Astarion falls back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, hands clutching at the silver curls of his hair.

“Hells. I feel terrible, darling. I really wanted to lavish all of my attention on you this afternoon and well into the evening, but as you can see-” you lean over and shush his ranting with a single kiss to his temple.

“You have plenty of time to make it up to me, my love. Plenty of time,” you reassure him- and yourself. You don’t quite believe your words to him.

A deep, gnawing clench in your gut tells you something is wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Against your better judgment, you choose to ignore it.

You prop a pillow underneath you as you adoringly watch him rush through readying himself to return to the courthouse, standing up to fix his cravat and a stray curl that has flopped in his face. He grasps your jaw gently, kissing you with the same intensity that he had earlier when he arrived home.

“I shall not keep you waiting too much longer, my love. I promise.”

He disappears down the hallway, his silk robes floating behind him.

You shuffle through your wardrobe, finding a purple silk robe to wrap around yourself from Kara-Tur that you had purchased from a vendor in Elturel a few years ago.

Making your way downstairs, you unpack your gear, setting your things in their proper place until you can clean them.

Stretching upwards, your feet take you to the kitchen, your arms pulling sugar, flour, spices, leavening powder, butter, and eggs all on to the counter.

“Ignis,” You shoot a firebolt at the wood fire oven that begins to crackle and pop, and you begin work on Dorian’s favorite cookie recipe.

An evil sounding laugh floats out from you and fills the kitchen as you whisk the butter and sugar together.

The sending spell requires a verbal component, and one can’t cast spells to summon your husband back on the weekend at a moment’s notice when their mouth is full of sweets, can they?