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kittenintheden · 22 days ago

Note

I love your style of writing!! I like how you also take suggestions and I may have one I’d love to see you expand on: Astarion misses the act of eating and is enthralled by F Tav when he watches her eat. He wants to seduce her and gain her trust - he gathers a selection of good foods - fruits, berries, chocolate, cheese, magic ice. Finds her reading aloud to a wild animal a kind of respite for her. He takes to listening to her read. That’s how they hone their relationship then he brings the food on one such meeting. Turns to kissing. Hot stuff ensues lol Thank you for indulging me.

hi <3 thanks for helping me out of a writing funk. I hope you enjoy this treat ^_^

Wanna Give You My Sugar, Baby

Rating: E (18+) Pairing: Astarion/F!Tav Word Count: 5565 Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, food play, blood drinking, Astarion being Astarion

AO3 Link

***

He isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but happen it does.

The first few weeks are a cavalcade of escalating absurdity. Mind flayer tadpoles, bickering druids, disgusting goblin camps, hags, memphits, frogs that pack a wallop they have no business packing. The list goes on and on.

And yet, as their merry band progresses through the horrors, something shifts in him. Necessity becomes hesitant companionability. Threats become less threatening with people fighting at his side. A veneer of seduction becomes something uncomfortably close to… friendship.

When they cross the threshold of relative safety to head into the Shadow-Cursed Lands at last, Astarion’s nearly looking forward to the adventure. It’s strange to be in the presence of people who not only tolerate him, but almost seem to enjoy his company, even when that company doesn’t involve him putting out.

Not that he didn’t try, of course. The lady-wizard, Antava, had seemed an ideal candidate for separation from the herd, yet she didn’t rise to his flirtations. They didn’t go over her head, of that he’s certain. Nonetheless, her knowing smile stayed kind as she declined his invitation. He’d never admit it to anyone – barely admits it to himself – but it stung. A little.

He hates losing. There’s been too much loss in his life.

But it hardly matters. Turns out he didn’t need to seduce a protector, after all. The clowns he runs with protect him for free. Odd, but he’ll take it.

As his guard drops, inch by painstaking inch, topics beyond his mere continued survival begin taking up more space in his mind.

Topics like Tav’s mouth.

Tonight, a significant portion of their troupe finishes up their evening meal near the fire. Astarion sits companionably nearby while the others eat, smirking over his cup of bad wine and offering the occasional judgement. He’s giving a high laugh at one of his own jokes when he looks to the side and catches the moment Antava – Tav, now – lifts a strawberry to her lips. Her eyes are closed as she bites into the fruit, her lips stained the faintest red as they stretch into a delighted smile.

Astarion pauses to admire the sight. It’d be rude not to. It’s a very nice mouth. Aesthetically speaking. Slightly bowed at the top, a plush lower lip with a barely-there dimple, and a very small scar bisecting her lip line. His brow knits. He hadn’t noticed that before.

Tav’s eyes sparkle as she finishes her bite and opens her eyes to meet his. She swallows and says, “What?”

“I was just…” Astarion waves his cup toward her. “I just noticed that scar on your lip. Story to share with the group, dear?”

She laughs brightly and brings her fingers to the mark near the corner of her mouth. Astarion feels the urge to mirror the touch on his own. Instead, he brings the wine to his lips. It’s acrid. Sour. Like everything else.

Tav says, “Nothing exciting or scandalous, I’m afraid. My brother’s pet budgie bit me when I was nine. I was trying to teach it to give kisses.”

Astarion blinks and stares a moment. A short laugh bursts from him. Then another.

“Budgie bite?” he says through an incredulous grin.

Tav shrugs. “Budgie bite.”

“Pathetic,” Astarion scoffs teasingly, taking another drink.

She grumbles at him a moment before reaching out to pluck another berry from their shared platter. Astarion glances to the side to watch it disappear past her lips.

What did berries taste like?

He can’t remember.

***

Tav eats with enthusiasm, and now that he’s noticed it, he can’t un-notice it.

When they’ve been on the road a while, she’ll reach into her pack and produce an apple or a small wrapped bit of cheese and bread. The simplest things, yet as he watches her, he sees the way she relishes every bite. Tastes it. Experiences it.

She sinks her teeth into the apple’s flesh with an audible snap, taking a bite into her mouth and chewing slowly, the tip of her pink tongue poking out to lick the juice dripping down the side of her hand.

He manages to catch himself before he runs headlong into a knot of strangling vines. Barely.

One morning a few days later, Halsin’s produced a coveted bit of honey from his pack and Tav is drizzling a spoonful into the tea Shadowheart brewed at the fire. Astarion pauses in oiling his blade hilts to observe her draw her tongue over the back of her spoon, the sticky golden honey coming away, held in her mouth for a marvelous moment.

He clears his throat and examines the dagger balanced in his palm.

Sweet tooth, he thinks as he wipes a soft cloth over the blade.

Then there’s the day they help an infuriatingly chipper family of halflings escape a grisly fate at the business end of a Razorvine Blight and part of their reward is a precious package of stick candy enchanted with multicolored, multiflavored stripes.

He doesn’t think much of it until the moment Tav takes one from the little wrapped bundle after supper, pulling the red-swirled candy out and admiring it with childlike glee before she puts the end in her mouth and closes her eyes in rapturous delight. Astarion watches her pink lips close around the stick, the candy disappearing centimeter by centimeter. He pictures the length of it running over her tongue and is alarmed to feel a pang of envy.

Envious of candy.

Candy that gets to know the soft heat of her mouth, the velvet touch of her tongue. He can’t stop the rising image of those same lush lips closing around his-

“Astarion?” someone says from behind his left shoulder.

“Hm?” he responds, twisting to look around and casually leaning against the nearest crate with what he’s sure is believable nonchalance.

Wyll approaches with goblet in hand and tilts his head in concern. It’s taken him some time to learn to live with his new horns, but they suit him well. At this point, it’s like they’ve always been part of him.

“Are you feeling well?” Wyll asks. “Not peckish?”

Astarion snorts a laugh. “Not especially. Why? Are you offering, you generous thing?”

While Tav was the first to offer him a bite on that ill-fated night not so very long ago, the party has since taken it upon themselves to make routine donations to keep him fed. Though they all seem to prefer the vein-to-cup method, which is incredibly disappointing.

Wyll chuckles. “If you need it. I ask because you’re staring rather wolfishly.”

“At what?” Astarion responds without a thought.

With an arched brow, Wyll shifts his gaze to look over Astarion’s shoulder. Though he knows exactly what he’ll find there, Astarion looks anyway, and sure enough Tav has worked her stick candy to a fine point, lips and tongue stained prominently red, the sight of which is causing the strangest reaction in his gut. His throat bobs.

He turns back to Wyll. “Can you blame a man for enjoying a show? Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

As he walks off, Wyll says, “You know, the other day I overheard Tav mention to Karlach that she’d take on an owlbear all by herself for a bit of chocolate. It seems to be a favorite. Maybe the merchant we passed earlier knows where to find some.”

Astarion stops and turns his head to one side, frowning. “Okay? And?”

Wyll lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile. “Just thought you might be interested to know.”

“I’m not.”

“All right. Enjoy your evening.” Wyll raises his glass and moves to leave.

Astarion shifts his weight from foot to foot. Wyll gets three steps before Astarion sighs and says, “Which merchant?”

***

The merchant Wyll recommended does not have any sweets, it turns out. But she points Astarion in the direction of a traveling trader who happens to be holed up at the Last Light Inn, waiting until it’s safe enough to move on.

That man does have a bit of special stock. For a price.

“Ten gold?” Astarion sneers incredulously. “Are you mad?”

The vendor shrugs. “It’s a real specialty product. I’ve no idea when I’ll be able to get more. Got a business to run. You understand.”

Astarion scoffs and folds his arms. “Robbery is what it is, and I won’t be party to it.” He sniffs and looks to one side. Then back again. “I’ll give you six.”

With a smirk, the half-orc says, “You might talk me into eight.”

“Seven,” Astarion counters, placing a hand on a tavern table and leaning forward.

“Nah,” the vendor says as he flips a silver into the air and catches it. “I can find someone willing to pay more’n eight.”

“I will give you eight if…” Astarion raises a finger to point toward the man’s face. “... if you throw in a lockpick.”

He gives a rumbling laugh. “All right, you caught me in a good mood. Deal.”

Astarion hands over the gold and the merchant hands over a lockpick and a packet of melting chocolate.

The vendor flicks his eyes up and gives Astarion a parting nod as he counts the coins. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, sex,” Astarion says, waving the packet through the air with a flourish. “Was that not obvious?”

The man gives him a look up and down. Then he shrugs and says, “Fair enough.”

***

How does one melt chocolate without burning it? This is not a skill he’s ever had reason to acquire. Never had the opportunity, really. Cacao was mainly used to make a bitter drink when he was young. This whole… chocolate thing is a relatively new development.

“Certainly I’ll regret asking, but dare I wonder what ill-fated task you’re attempting?” Gale asks as he approaches Astarion warily.

Astarion looks up mid-act, his hand hovering over a small clay jar containing a small bit of his overpriced chocolate. “Playing with fire, what does it look like?” he responds.

“Ignis,” he mutters, sending a small bolt of flame into the jar, which instantly disintegrates the chocolate and also superheats the vessel.

“Gods damn it,” Astarion curses, dropping the jar and shaking out his burnt hand.

Gale looks at him like he’s just tried to tear up a spell scroll. “Where on the material plane did you learn that horrific cantrip form?”

“Oh, piss off,” Astarion sneers, still clutching his hurt fingers. “It comes naturally.”

“Natural as an avalanche,” Gale says as he shoos him away from the jar. He crouches down and holds a hand over it to test its heat, then allows cooling magic to pool in his palm before he reaches out to touch it. “There’s absolutely no delicacy to your somatics.”

“Listen, you smug spellnag,” Astarion says, pointing at Gale with his good hand. “There is only delicacy in my somatics.”

Gale flicks his hand in dismissal. “If you’re trying to heat the clay gently, a gentle hand is required. Manipulate the Weave as an artisan, pulling only the thread you need.”

The wizard’s eyes focus on the vessel and he speaks under his breath, whispering, “Ignis parvas.” When he does, the hand holding the jar glows with orange light, lighting the clay. A moment later, all goes dark.

“There you are,” Gale says, holding it out.

Astarion squints at Gale, then at the jar. He gingerly reaches out to take it and finds it very warm, but not painful, to the touch.

“Huh,” Astarion says, looking it over. “How long will it stay like this?”

Gale rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking very pleased with himself. “A good four hours or so, I should think. What plans have you for your new heated jar?”

“That,” Astarion says as he takes a step backward. “Is no business of yours. Cheers.”

With a put-upon sigh, Gale waits a moment before calling after him, “Could I at least have some of the chocolate you were destroying?”

“No,” Astarion says cheerfully, offering a wave over one shoulder.

***

Now that he’s standing near her tent with a satchel full of chocolate and berries, Astarion realizes he doesn’t exactly have a plan. He’s not even sure when he made the decision to take another pass at Tav. It seemed for a time like something might be blooming between her and Shadowheart, but the moment appears to have passed.

What is he doing here?

Astarion’s brow knits together and he tightens his grip on the strap of his pack. There’s no reason to do this. Is there? He doesn’t need protection like he once did.

But… it couldn’t exactly hurt, could it? To have a little insurance policy in place, just in case?

He stands up straight and puts on his best smile. No. It couldn’t hurt. At bare minimum, he gets to watch her eat his treat, and that seems worth the price of admission.

As he reaches her tent flap, she chooses that moment to step out and startles a bit when she spots him.

“Gods, you spooked me,” she laughs, hand to her fluttering heart. “You’re so quiet.”

“By design, darling,” he says, tilting his head just so. “You’re just the person I’d hoped to run into.”

“Yeah?” she says, gathering up her hair in one hand and pulling it over a shoulder. “You were hoping to jump out of the shadows and give me a fright?”

Like a glove, he slips right into his most comfortable role. His chuckle goes dark, his voice dropping into a purr. “I can think of a lot of things that are much more fun to do in the shadows than cause someone a fright.” A pause. “Although the look on your face was very funny.”

She gives him a calculating look, a slight smirk on her face. “Okay, I’ll bite. Like what?”

“A bite is one option,” he lilts. “Or several, if you’d like.”

She gives him an affectionate eyeroll, still smiling.

“Specifically,” he continues as he holds up his satchel. “I thought you might like to join me on a stroll and enjoy some provisions I managed to scrounge up. Strawberries…”

That gets her attention. He grins wide enough to show the points of his teeth and reaches into his satchel to produce a jar.

“... and chocolate.”

With a gasp, Tav reaches for it, giving a small yelp when she finds the jar warm to the touch. He offers it again and she takes it carefully, letting it warm her skin in the freezing depth of the caves they’re bunking in. Her eyes are wide with wonder as she brings it close to her face, examining it. She looks at him, awestruck.

“Hot chocolate? You found hot chocolate?” she says.

He plucks it back from her hands and stashes it away. “Perhaps. Would you care to sneak away with me and find out? I’ve found the loveliest cavern a little farther in. We could take some time to ourselves. Indulge in… whatever we like.”

The expression on her face is inscrutable. Astarion’s throat bobs. Shit. Did he overplay his hand?

As if he imagined it, her thoughtful look is replaced with another impish smirk. “Well, at the very least, I’ll get chocolate. I’m in.”

He releases a slow breath and smolders at her as he holds out an arm. “Shall we?”

They maneuver through a well-worn cavern path and Astarion feels the heat of the jar through his satchel and shirt, warming the center of his back as they walk.

***

Astarion has been known to stretch the truth to suit his needs, but in this instance, he’d spoken the truth plainly: he had indeed found a lovely little cavern for an impromptu picnic in the Shadowlands.

Tav gasps aloud as they enter the space and are met with glittering crystals glowing with natural magic embedded in the walls, creating a space that could only really be said to set a mood.

Astarion feels a self-satisfied smile pull at his mouth as she spots the blanket he’s laid out. She pauses only a moment before walking over and sinking onto it, turning to look over her shoulder at him invitingly.

Too easy. Always so easy.

But that’s the point, isn’t it?

He swallows and joins her, shrugging off the pack and handing it over to her as he lounges on one side, making sure to arrange himself so the laces of his shirt fall open to reveal some chest. All his best moves.

And he’s about to open his mouth and recite all his favorite lines, drop them one after the other until her smallclothes drop with them, but then Tav uncorks the jar of chocolate and dips a berry inside and the words never leave his mouth. He’s too busy watching.

Watching the chocolate, perfectly melted, drip like dark blood from the berry as she lifts the strawberry to her lips. A drop lands on her palm, another on the swell of her breast, but he has eyes only for her mouth as her tongue appears to lick the berry, her eyes falling closed and her brow softening in pleasure. A soft moan rises up from her throat at the taste and when she takes a bite, Astarion can hear her teeth pierce the flesh of the fruit.

He is instantly hard.

Oh, gods. No plan. He had no plan.

Tav, completely unaware of his internal struggle, chews slowly. Her eyes are half-lidded when she opens them again, finishing her bite and sticking out her tongue to lick the remaining chocolate from her lips. She swallows and he watches it move down her throat, remembering the one and only time she let him pierce his teeth directly into that same neck. His desperation and her trust.

How misplaced it had been.

“Astarion?” she says, and he watches her perfect lips form his name and his core tightens with arousal.

He can do this. He knows how to do this.

His head falls softly into his hand in a gentle lean as he tears his gaze away from her mouth and meets her eyes. “Yes, beautiful?”

The very slightest flush colors her cheeks. He only notices because he’s already staring.

“Why’d you ask me here?” she says. She raises the remaining half of the chocolate covered berry to her mouth and takes another bite, licking the chocolate from her palm while she’s at it.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he attempts to loosen it. “I think we both know why we’re here. Don’t you?” he says.

She huffs a laugh and tosses the strawberry top aside, still holding the jar of chocolate. With a downward glance, she spots the drop of chocolate on her breast and swipes it off with a finger, looking up to hold his eye as she licks it off.

“Why chocolate?” she asks, quieter this time.

Astarion blinks, confused. “What?”

Tav swallows. “You don’t eat. Why would you bother picking up chocolate?”

“I…” She’s caught him off-guard and the only thing coming to mind is the truth. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it,” she says. Her eyes are going unnervingly soft as she looks at him. “But why me? Why not good wine for Wyll or flowers for Shadowheart?” She runs her finger around the rim of the jar and brings it to her mouth again, sticking the entire tip into her mouth to suck the chocolate off.

Astarion’s pupils dilate and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.

“I like to watch you eat,” he says softly. Honestly.

“Hm,” she hums, tapping the same fingertip against her lips. “Do you?”

He breathes in deep and looks at her with a heat he doesn’t have to fake. “You have an incredible mouth. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Tav’s aforementioned mouth pulls up into a grin as she leans in toward him. “I’ve been told once or twice. I’ll make you a deal.”

“Hm?” he manages. Coherent thought is becoming difficult.

She holds out the jar. “You brought me chocolate and you like to watch my mouth,” she says lowly. “So put it… wherever you’d like to see my mouth.”

The jar is warm enough to make him sweat as she pushes it into his palm and his fingers close tightly around it. His brain clicks into place as he realizes what she’s giving him.

Power. Choice.

He thinks he may have just gone even harder.

With effort, he maintains his composure, plucking a small strawberry from the pile she’s left and swirling it into the open jar. He sets it aside and holds the berry up near his face, continuing to recline. He beckons her closer and arches a brow.

“Come and get it,” he teases.

Her face is full of mischief as she goes up on her hands and knees to come closer, her breasts hanging as she gives him a full peek down the front of her robes. When he tears his eyes away, her face is at level with the strawberry. She leans in close enough that he can smell the sweetness on her breath and takes his offering into her mouth. The sound of her teeth cutting through the fruit sends a wave of arousal rushing through his core.

Tav chews and swallows, breathing another strawberry-sweet sigh. She’s inches away.

“Anywhere else?” she says, eyes half-lidded as she gazes at him.

There’s only one place he’d really like her mouth right now.

Well. One, to start.

Astarion reaches toward the jar without breaking eye contact, dipping the pad of his middle finger into the warm chocolate. He withdraws it, brings it to his parted lips, and drags it over his lower lip. A bit ends up on the tip of his tongue. It tastes of wet dust, but he hadn’t expected anything better.

Tav’s face flickers with an affectionate smile. Her eyes drop to his mouth.

“I was hoping you’d pick that place,” she whispers.

She leans in and Astarion’s eyelids flutter closed as he feels the soft touch of her tongue stroking along his lip before her mouth covers his in a firm kiss. It’s nice. It’s very nice.

Their tongues brush against one another and something changes. Food and wine – they never taste like he remembers them, when he can remember them at all. But as the chocolate and strawberry become a part of her, held in her mouth and swallowed down, he tastes… something. Something sweet. Something more.

A sound of pure want rises in his throat before he even realizes it's happening.

Tav takes the sound as intended and deepens their kiss, moving her knees under her so she can lift her hands to either side of his jaw and pull him in tighter. Her lips are better than he imagined, gentle and skilled as she tastes him and he tastes her back.

Eventually, they break apart and open their eyes. For a moment, neither moves.

Then Tav says, “Where else?”

Astarion pushes himself up to sitting and she moves back to give him space. In seconds, he manages to undo the clasps along the front of his camp shirt and lets it fall open. He goes to reach for the chocolate, but Tav’s beat him to it. She holds it in her hand and speaks an incantation to summon a pale blue hand out of the aether. The mage hand spell dips inside and comes out dripping with chocolate. Then she grins and waits.

He leans back on his elbows with a look full of invitation, shirt falling to either side of his torso. He tents a leg and gives a knowing smirk when Tav’s gaze lights on the rigid length straining against his trousers.

“All in good time, my sweet,” he purrs. Shifting his weight to one side, he takes a finger and runs it down the column of his throat. Over each pectoral. Down the center of his sternum. Makes sure to hold her eye as he draws his pinky over the line separating his abdomen all the way to the navel.

Dutifully, Tav follows his instruction, using her spectral hand to apply chocolate. Astarion shudders as she does, the warmed confection raising gooseflesh where it comes into contact with his cool skin.

Job done, Tav waves the hand away, sets the jar aside, and crawls over him once again until she’s near his face. She tilts her head to regard him and then lowers herself while he leans back, exposing the column of his throat to her without a second thought.

Something he’d never have imagined allowing himself to do even a few weeks ago.

He’s rewarded for his trust with her tongue running a hot, wet stripe over his windpipe. Gods, his cock aches to be touched, but this feels too good to stop. He hums his approval.

Tav’s mouth is an erotic dream as it follows the trail of chocolate across his body, warm and soft and welcoming. When she closes her lips over a nipple and gently sucks, Astarion’s back arches and he groans.

By the time she gets to his navel, his breath is heavy with lust as he watches her tongue swirl and dip inside.

If he doesn’t take a moment to collect himself, he’s going to forget his own name.

Sluggishly, he reaches out to take a handful of hair at the back of her head and pull. Not hard, not to hurt. Just enough to attract her attention and get her to look at him, lips shining and kiss-swollen. Another wave of electric arousal washes through him.

“Are we going to have sex?” he asks, voice low and breathy.

Tav blinks slowly at him. “I’d like that,” she says.

He swallows. “Then you’d better disrobe, darling. You’re terribly overdressed.”

With a bright laugh, she places one more openmouthed kiss near his hipbone and stands so she can undo the buttons of her robe, letting the material fall loosely around her shoulders as she goes. While she’s preoccupied, Astarion manages his own clothing, pulling the ties of his trousers loose and shoving everything down over his hips, his hard cock springing free at last. He takes it in hand and sits up straight just as Tav wriggles out of her smallclothes, standing stark naked before him with her clothing pooling on the floor.

Immediately and with a neediness he hasn’t properly felt in years, Astarion pumps his cock with his left hand and grips Tav’s hip with his right, pulling her in close as he brings his mouth to her cunt and gives her a kiss of her own, tongue stroking and exploring whatever he can reach from this angle. Above him, Tav gasps at the sensation, nearly doubling over in surprise, her fingers twisting into his hair.

“Wait, wait,” she says, breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. “I’m… I’m not done.”

He releases her reluctantly and reclines again. She goes back onto her knees and recalls her mage hand, taking more chocolate. Her eyes never leave his cock as she uses her magic to drizzle chocolate over his hips, his thighs, and, of course…

Astarion lets his head fall back as the warmed chocolate drips down his cock, his breath coming tight and short. The heat of her tongue swirls over one of his hip bones, then the other. By the time she reaches the creases of his thighs, he’s quivering in anticipation. He makes sure to lift his head just in time to watch her catch his eye and run the flat of her tongue over the underside of his length from root to tip.

“Ah, fuck,” he sighs, scraping his nails over the blanket-covered ground.

Tav looks deep into him as she licks the split on the underside of the head, making certain to get every bit she spilled. Her beautiful lips pout slightly to give the tip of his cock a proper kiss. Then they part and she takes him down, down, down, every aching inch.

“Gods, Antava,” he groans, abdomen clenching and shuddering as roiling heat blooms in his core. “Yes.”

She hums back at him in response, moving her head in a steady rhythm, alternating between licking and sucking. He must be clean of chocolate by now, but she doesn’t stop, and Astarion isn’t complaining. He hasn’t experienced head this good in ages and watching her lips work over his cock is undeniably hot.

A minute or so later, she pulls off him with a wet pop, eyes glazed over with want as she puffs hot breath over his spit-slick cock.

“Anywhere else you’d like-” she starts, but he’s already reaching down to pull her face toward his.

“Come here,” he growls, pulling her mouth back to his in a desperate kiss, pulling her body in close to his until they’re skin to skin, his cock trapped between them. Unbidden, his hips roll, grinding into her belly.

Panting, she pushes up on her knees to hover above his lap and casts another spell under her breath, drawing any remaining chocolate from his skin and casting it aside.

“What was that?” he breathes.

“Prestidigitation spell,” she breathes back, putting a hand firmly on each of his shoulders. “I don’t fancy getting thrush, personally.”

And with that, she lowers herself toward the floor, finding the tip of his cock with her entrance and sinking onto it. If Astarion thought her mouth was incredible, he had no idea. He curls his hips up to meet hers with a broken moan, palming her arse with one hand and running the other up over her spine until it’s wrapped around the nape of her neck. He buries his face into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. He grinds up into her, buried to the hilt in her delicious heat.

She meets his passion, rolling her hips against his in a steady rhythm as she leans her head to one side to give him better access to her neck, panting near his ear. His fingertips dig into the ample flesh of her backside, guiding her as they fuck deep. He groans, holding her closer as they pick up speed, needily licking and nipping at the skin of her neck.

“Ah, ah, Tav, ah,” he manages against her shoulder, voice dark with lust. And he isn’t even faking it. Not this time.

She doesn’t respond beyond the quiet cries rising from her chest, but she palms the back of his head and presses his mouth to her neck until he can feel the thrumming pulse there. That’s surely an invitation if he’s ever had one.

Astarion bites, her heated blood flowing immediately from the punctures to coat his tongue in metallic vitality, rich and ever-so-slightly sweet. An echo of the sugar on her tongue. He drinks, and drinks, and forces himself away before he takes too much. When he pulls back, mouth stained red, Tav’s right there to capture him in a kiss. It’s salt and sugar, blood and chocolate.

Tension rises and threatens to snap, the promise of pleasurable release circling ever closer. In anticipation, Astarion reaches between them to press a thumb to her swollen clit, and Tav cries out, her rocking intensifying as she chases her climax.

Astarion says something then that he hasn’t said sincerely in a while.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he pants.

“Me too,” Tav murmurs.

Then she does, core tightening and thighs clenching on either side of his hips as she pulses around his cock, the space between them going slick. With a guttural groan, Astarion presses into her as deep as he can go and finds his own release, shivering through his peak as he spills inside her.

Before either can catch their breath, they’re kissing again, swallowing the pleasure that courses through them.

They stay in place for a long moment, clinging to one another and kissing deep.

After they come down and separate to clean up and redress, Astarion sends a glance her way.

He clears his throat. “So, what changed?” he asks, forcibly casual.

“What do you mean?” she says as she adjusts her robe and twists her hair up into a knot.

Astarion waves a hand through the air. “Just curious when your obvious lust for me won out over your self-preservation instincts,” he teases.

Tav pauses in setting her hair and looks at him with an arched brow. “Is that why you think I didn’t sleep with you before?” she says. “Because I was afraid of you?”

He shrugs. “Why else?”

She drops her hands to her sides with a laugh. “I didn’t think you really wanted me, before. Your proposition felt… hollow.”

Astarion’s muscles freeze in place like he’s been caught in a spotlight. He catches himself quickly, blinking, and attempts to play it off. “Hm. And this time?”

Tav walks past him, brushing his shoulder and giving him a knowing look from under her lashes as she bends down to retrieve the enchanted jar so she can press it back into his hand. The warmth between them lingers.

She smiles.

“This time,” she says, hand still on his. “You brought me chocolate. And a little honesty.”

Then she turns and walks away, Astarion staring after her.

He takes a breath, fingers tight around the jar.

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