tavs-tressym - Tumblr blog

[tavs-tressym]

man if I saw an elf nobody would be able to stop me

[tavs-tressym]

[tavs-tressym]

[tavs-tressym]

So tender, gentle and mine.

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Six

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)

Word Count: 3800 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT). Jealous Astarion, lake scene.

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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content)

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A/N: Splish splash I was takin' a bath...

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Chapter Six - Splash

Picking a semi-dry spot in the soil, you try not to spill your wine as you lower yourself into a cross-legged position. Astarion does the same beside you, much more gracefully, stretching his legs out and resting his weight on his arms behind him. For a moment, you both take in the serenity of the lake, not injecting a word into the comfortable silence. You focus on your breathing, then on his. The rhythm almost matches, but the more you focus on it, the more irregular it becomes.

“So, the story?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes… Turns out I’m being hunted. Or, was...” He replies, nonchalantly.

You turn to him in confusion. “Hunted? You specifically?”

He nods and looks at you for a moment. His smile leaves his eyes but not his lips as he inspects your face. He sighs and looks down. “I corrected you last night. I told you that I’m a vampire spawn. Remember?”

“What’s the difference?”

He scoffs at your naivety, shaking his head. “Everything. A true vampire has power. A spawn… Is a slave- no, less than a slave. Our master speaks, our bodies react…” He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “My ma-... old master is Cazador Szarr, a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. He turned me two-hundred years ago, and for two-hundred years, he has been my tormentor… He wants me back...”

You nod, thoughtfully. It’s hard for you to picture a man so well kept and confident in such a position. Then something clicks. “Szarr… As in, Szarr Palace?”

He cocks his head in intrigue. “The very same. You know it?”

“Yes. Or, at least, the outside of it. I was never allowed in… It always looked so grand. To think, it’s been crawling with vampires this whole time…” You look to the floor as unpleasant memories flash before you: Hands. Dragging you along as you tripped on cobbles, the thunk of palace doors, the sun drying your lips as you waited for hours at a time, not allowed to sit, not allowed to move, not allowed to think…

Astarion furrows his brow in concentration as he inspects your face, desperately trying to remember if he has (and praying he hasn’t) seen you before. You snap yourself out of your spiral and are startled by the intensity of his eyes. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing…” He looks away and you do the same.

A moment of contemplation passes as you draw patterns with your finger on your knee. “I’m sorry… Two-hundred years, it-... it sounds awful.”

He rolls his eyes, flippantly, clearly reluctant to accept your sympathy. “Ugh… Well… Thank you, darling.” He leans back a little, silently thankful that the difficult sharing portion of the conversation is over.

The side of your mouth curls into a subtle grin. His stubbornness is endearing, in a way, and you suppose you can hardly blame him, the last thing you would want is pity either. So, you decide to move onto the facts of the situation: “How did you escape?”

“I was in the middle of er- doing Cazador’s bidding when the mind flayers snatched me. Ever since I was infected with this tadpole, his commands haven’t been able to reach me.” He can’t help but smile as he tips wine into his mouth.

“Hm, that’s lucky.” You are about to take a sip of your own wine when you decide to raise the cup in a toast instead. “To being lucky.”

He chuckles, softly and clinks the cups together. “To being very fucking lucky.”

After swallowing the tart wine, you trace your finger around the rim of the cup in thought. You want to ask him why he’s telling you this, but before you can speak the words, he stands and walks closer to the lake. His hands find the hem of his bloodied shirt and he begins to lift it. “Woah! What are you doing?!” You cover your eyes with your hand.

He pauses his motion and laughs. “Well, as lovely an accessory as the blood of my enemies is, I don’t fancy wearing it throughout the night.”

“Oh, right, okay, I’ll let you get on with it then.” You stand, still blocking your vision and start backing away, using your free hand to feel out for any obstacles.

Then cold, smooth fingers wrap around yours. “Darling, not to be rude, but when was the last time you bathed?” Your eyes widen behind your hand and you sniff under your arm…

Okay… It has been a while…

“I won’t look, I promise. Not unless you want me to.” He purrs, the sound of his voice making you blush and scoff. Then you feel something solid placed in your hand. It’s cube shaped and a little slippery. You brush your thumb over it, popping tiny bubbles on it’s surface. Soap. The thought of bathing next to each other is both incredibly enticing and terrifying. You wonder if you can truly trust him not to look, or if this whole thing is just some manipulative, gross attempt for him to get in your pants. But presently, you can’t even read his face. No, it’s too much, too soon. You can’t do this… At least… Not alone…

You pretend to be unaware of his intentions and pray to all the gods that he can’t see through your feigning of innocence. “Hold on, I’ll ask the others.”

“The others?” You feel his grip on your hand loosen.

“Surely, it’s been a while for everyone. You weren’t planning on keeping me all to yourself now, were you?” You smirk and turn away, removing your hand and allowing vision to return to your eyes. You hear him chuckle as you saunter off towards camp.

The others agree to join you, with Gale nodding a little too eagerly. “Yes!” Karlach fist pumps the air in excitement as Shadowheart looks up at her, smirking. Even Lae’zel takes you up on the offer, quickly retrieving her things with a seductive gaze towards Wyll, who bashfully agrees too. Together, you make your way back to the lake; towels and soap in hand.

The water is up to Astarion’s chest, concealing everything but his pale shoulders from your view. Just as he notices you and begins to grin, he is immediately consumed by a wave crashing into him, followed by Karlach’s cackles. Somehow she is already in nothing but her underclothes and bobbing her head above the surface, revelling in the feeling of crisp, cold water soothing her blazing skin. “Come on! Get in!” She shouts. Astarion’s head appears again, curls straightened by the weight of the water and flopping over his face, you can’t help but laugh. Shadowheart and Lae’zel waste no time and follow in Karlach’s footsteps, swiftly undressing and stepping into the water. Lae’zel looks behind her at Wyll and beckons him with a gesture of her hand. He clears his throat and begins to unbutton his shirt.

Suddenly, warm breath tickles your ear. “Can I tell you a secret?” Startled, you look behind you to see Gale, cheeks red and bashful. “I’m a tad nervous about all this…” He definitely looks like it, it’s sweet. You smile warmly then take a step back and look him up and down. He’s clearly an attractive man and that robe, although humble, clings to his soft yet somehow firm physique. “W-what is it?”

“Just surprised that you are nervous about this, that’s all.” You smirk at him, playfully.

He chuckles. “Ah, well, thank you,” He tucks his hair behind his ear. “But that’s not it, exactly. It’s just a bit… Exposing…”

You nod, understandingly. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Yes, don’t worry, I am well aware. But gods, if I’m totally honest… Tav, I stink.”

You giggle. “Me too. Come, we can do it together.”

You hold out your hand and lead him closer to the lake where you begin to undo your pants, not seductively in any way, just like you would if you were alone in your tent. But that doesn’t stop Gale from having to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from you to undo his robe, revealing the white wrap shirt and leather pants beneath. As you slide off your trousers over your plump thighs and step out, your, now untucked, burnt orange shirt flows halfway over your rear. You stand straight and struggle with the tight fastenings of your shirt. You sigh, annoyed at the effort. “Do you… Um… Need help?” Gale asks, sheepishly. You chuckle and nod, stepping closer. He tries to maintain his composure as he reaches for the knot above your chest. You look up at him, amused by his embarrassment.

You notice the several difficult knots that hold his wrap shirt together. “Thanks, um… Do you need help?”

“Oh-um… Yes, please. Thank you.” You smile and work on undoing the shirt until it’s hanging off his body. He pulls away and shrugs off the fabric. You lift yours above your head, feeling his eyes on your body as your vision is momentarily blocked by the linen of your shirt. Once you can see again, he’s already looking away.

Taking his hand again, you step into the water together. It’s delightfully warm, thanks to Karlach who’s having a splash fight with Shadowheart not too far away. You close your eyes and sigh as the water soothes aches and embraces skin. Gale, too, revels in the feeling, wading a little further into the lake, letting go of your hand as the surface swallows his body up to his chest. Opening your eyes at the loss of contact, you follow him. His eyes find yours again, smiling, grateful for your company. You smile back, eyes trailing down his face and focusing on the design between his collarbones. You mustn’t have been very subtle about it as you see his hand emerging from the water to touch it.

“It’s pretty.”

He smiles. “Thank you… It’s not here by choice though, I’m afraid.”

“Is it something to do with that bomb-thing in your chest?”

He furrows his brows in surprise and confusion. “How did you…” You gesture towards Astarion who’s washing himself at a distance from the rest of the group, sulking. “Ah…” Gale looks down, irritated, an emotion you haven’t seen from him before. “I didn’t give him permission to tell you about that… But,” He sighs, letting his hand drop beneath the water again. “Oh well, you know now…”

You bite your lip in regret, you didn’t want to cause any rifts between them. You try to save it. “I don’t know much, just that it’s there and you have to consume magical items to stop it from killing us all.” You avoid the topic of Mystra, unsure of how he would feel about you knowing about her.

He chuckles at your blunt delivery. “That’s certainly a simplified way of putting it…” He takes a deep breath, clearly feeling a little awkward and lathers his soap, offering you the bar to do the same. You take it and scrub the bubbles into your skin. 

You avoid looking at each other as you wash yourselves, then after a loud silence, he cuts through it. “Would you believe me if I told you it was all my fault?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow and shrug. He laughs. “Fair enough, I suppose you don’t know me all that well yet… It was an accident. I was trying to impress someone, but it went too far.” He shakes his head in shame.

“A girl?” You ask with a teasing smirk.

He laughs again. “A goddess. My goddess. Although, I don’t think she’d appreciate me calling her that anymore. I was one of her chosen… And later, her lover.” He pauses for effect, as painful as it is to relive the memories, he can’t resist a humble brag. You raise an eyebrow and  nod slowly, understandingly and not wanting to press him for more information. As much as you want to ask about it and as hard as it is to believe that a mere mortal can satisfy a goddess, his wounds seem too fresh. “When she found out what I’d done, she cast me aside. We haven’t spoken since.” His slight smile drops and he stares into the rippling water.

“I’m sorry… It sounds like you were really close.”

He nods, taking a deep breath. “Yes, well, that was then. And, I suppose, this is now.” He looks up at you and offers a bittersweet smile, you return it.

The moment is interrupted by a large splash of water over you both, startled, you look around, frantically, and find Astarion, closer than before, making his way past you, heading to the shallow end. “Whoops.” He states, unconvincingly. You scoff at his pettiness.

“Excuse me, Gale. I’m getting the slightest feeling that someone wants my attention. I’ll see you later.” He goes to say something, but instead he smiles and nods, resuming his bath. You, however, charge full steam ahead through the water, following Astarion.

The surface lowers as you move, revealing more and more of your body, concealed only by your underclothes. “Oi! Get back here!” He laughs, pleased to hear that you’re following him. The cold air hits your chest and you start to shiver, eager to submerge yourself back into the warm water, but you’re determined now and Astarion annoyed you. You follow the back of his head as his shoulders become a torso, above the water. You stop. You stop because you see them.

Scars.

Gods above…

Raised and red, curving into circular, indecipherable language. An abhorrent marking of possession. Of property. Between painful lines are glimpses of untouched, undefiled skin. A fractured memory of what it was before. It’s terrible, it’s tragic, it’s poetry and it’s torture.

He hears your halt in movement and turns around, eyes already low and prepared to gaze at your form, which he does. He follows your lines until he meets your face. Your eyes are wide, lips are parted, brows are knitted. It’s something he never wanted to see on your sweet face: Pity. For a moment he forgot about it, the burden he carries, the weight on his back. He’s shocked to realise it and even more shocked to realise this isn’t the first time it’s happened when he’s around you. But he pushes the thought aside and clears his throat. He looks away in shame, suddenly feeling creeping vulnerability on his exposed skin.

SPLASH!

With no time to react, Astarion is engulfed in a wave of surging water. It’s not enough to knock him over, like Karlach’s, but it’s enough to drench him again. He gasps and wipes his eyes, peaking through the blur to see your determined grin and readied stance. You might be shit on the battlefield, but this is no typical fight. This is a motherfucking water fight.

He laughs, relieved to have the moment of tension broken. It’s infectious and you giggle along with him, momentarily lowering your guard. A mistake.

SPLASH!

“Oh, you motherfu-!”

SPLASH!

He cackles at your sopping wet state, slicking back his hair, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Each time he tries to open his eyes, he sees your hair dripping and sticking to your fierce, determined face, setting off another bout of laughter. You giggle for a moment, appreciating the unrestrained sound that rumbles from deep within his chest. “Alright, alright, it’s not that funny.”

He half regains his composure. “Oh but it is, darling. It really is.”

You flick him with the drops that formed around your fingertips. He scrunches his face in a delightful way as they hit him and chuckles. In retaliation, he cups his hands and lowers them below the surface until they’re full, and moves closer, taunting you with it. “Nooo! No! No! Don’t you dare!” You scream and laugh, frantically wading backwards through the water to get away from him. He follows closely, laughing at your panic as he raises his hands over your head, preparing to drop it. You try to duck away but he lets go at just the right time. You narrow your eyes up at him through the drops cascading down your face. He smugly peers down at you, chuckling softly. For a moment, you both just stay there, laughing at each other, dripping with lake water.

Then all of a sudden, he’s leaning in. No, he’s throwing himself at you. No, he’s… Falling? His face lights up with panic as he’s forced forward, you hold your arms out, bracing yourself for the impact. “Shit, sorry!” cries Wyll. Astarion tries to grab onto your shoulder to steady himself but it’s not enough and he crashes into you anyway, pushing you down with him. The water, although shallow enough to comfortably stand in, is deep enough that lying flat isn’t really an option. You’re submerged in the water, the gasp you took as you fell, being the only air in your lungs. Your head hits the rocky ground with a muffled yelp. An arm curls around your waist, pulling you up for air. You inhale and cough.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, just bumped my head. But, I’m fine.” Moving your hand up to rub the injury, you’re surprised to touch a colder hand, already rubbing it better. You wipe the water from your eyes and open them to find a heavy breathing Astarion over you, scanning your face with fierce concern. You take in the sight of his worried, wide eyes: a change from his usual, steel-crafted mask. His fingers find the sore spot on your crown and massage it in circles. He’s doing it a little too hard and so you wince, but don’t stop him. It’s a strange sight, a strange experience to watch him do this. One you can’t quite pull your eyes away from.

“Oh, gods, Tav! Are you alright?! I’m so sorry!” Wyll rushes to your side. You flick your eyes to him and notice a new addition to his skin: peppered hickeys along his neck and collarbone. You can only assume what he and Lae’zel were up to before knocking you both over with such force. A badly stifled snort of laughter emerges from you, causing Astarion to look at Wyll in confusion, only to fall into the same trap and start laughing himself, but he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Wyll follows your eyes and covers his neck with his hand, bashfully.

Lae’zel steps behind him, looking down at the little gathering impatiently before speaking. “Wyll. I don’t like waiting. And I wasn’t finished tasting you.” Her words inspire another intense, red blush on Wyll’s cheeks and a roar of laughter from you and Astarion.

You compose yourself enough to get some words out. “I’m fine, really. Don’t let me stop your… ‘Tasting’.”

As Wyll clears his throat, nods and shuffles away with Lae’zel, you return your attention to Astarion, still hovering over you and chuckling at them. Once you become a little too aware of his knee, sitting between your thighs, you decide it’s time to stand up. “I-um, I can probably get back up now.”

“Hm? Oh, of course.” He quickly retreats, his hand slips away from your scalp and you shiver at the gentle loss of contact. Now standing, he holds his hand out for you. You take it, sliding your palm into his and letting him hold your weight as you lift yourself out of the water.

As you emerge once again, he avoids gazing at your body, with effort. You giggle. “It’s alright, it’s not like Gale didn’t get an eye-full earlier.” His eyes narrow at the thought but turns it into a smirk. You grin right back and turn around, wringing out your hair, flipping it back and intentionally whipping him with it. He playfully scoffs. You turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder. You take the moment to subtly glide your gaze over his lean, toned body. Porcelain skin, gleaming in moonlight. Before you lose yourself in the sight, you look away.

In turning back to him and noticing that his eyes are nowhere near locked on yours, he reminds you that he’s not the only one exposed. You, too, are down to nothing but your underwear, and he seems to like it. For a moment, you consider covering yourself, but instead you choose to embrace it, resting your weight on one hip. “So, you, very rudely, interrupted our conversation and now you have my attention. What did you want?” He yanks his eyes away from your body and flicks them back to your face. He clears his throat and begins to speak but can’t find the words. He didn’t think that far ahead, he just knew he wanted you to look at him. 

“I was just trying to save you from whatever tedious trivia Gale was, no doubt, spewing.” He shrugs and smirks. You chuckle and shake your head. “It was a delightful conversation, actually. Thank you very much.”

“Ah, then by all means, my dear!” He gestures towards Gale, knowing you won’t turn back now.

You grin and walk towards the shore. “Actually, I think I should probably get out before I turn into a prune.”

He watches as you pass him, pondering whether or not to follow. You step on cold soil and reach for your towel, patting away the moisture on your body and scrunching your hair, encouraging the natural waves to bounce back. You turn back, towel now secured around your chest to observe the scene before you: Gale rinsing out his hair and making his way to shore, Astarion drying himself in the corner of your vision, Shadowheart making a pathetic attempt at a backstroke and Karlach hovering, coaching and cheering her on. Wyll and Lae’zel are nowhere to be seen.

Probably for the best…

You smile at the sight and make your way back to your tent, soaking in the scent of burnt wood from the remnants of the campfire. On the way, you spot Scratch, curled up by the entrance of Karlach’s tent, snoozing away. Ducking under your tent flap, you slip off your towel, undress and wrap yourself snugly in your bedroll.

Hesitant, shuffling footsteps approach, followed by a hesitant, warm voice. “Goodnight, Tav. I… I enjoyed talking to you tonight. Thank you… For listening.”

You smile. “Goodnight Gale, I enjoyed listening.” With a deep breath, he walks away and the flap of his tent is the last thing you hear before a new set of footsteps take his place.

These are stronger, bouncier, unashamed of the space they occupy. They stop outside your tent and for a moment, it’s silent. You’re tempted to poke your head out, but instead you wait…

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

“Sweet dreams, Astarion.”

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Previous Chapter

[tavs-tressym]

I regret the title of my fic... lol... fml...

[tavs-tressym]

Exposed Back

Astarion x gnTav

Summary: A short but sweet moment where Astarion feels comfortable and safe with Tav.

“I know you don’t like your back- for obvious reasons- but it truly can’t be stated enough how beautiful you are.” The way Tav said it was borderline dreamy to his ears. The two were laying together on their bedroll with his back to them for a change as he read. They laid behind him slowly stroking the small of his back, just below his scars, admiring the elegant dip and curve of his spine. At this point it wasn’t just Tav’s tent anymore with how present Astarion always was in it, even when they weren’t there. He always tried staying in his own but he couldn’t rest when he craved the comfort of theirs.Their tent always surrounded him in a blanket of their scent that his own just lacked. Their things were just simply better than his own because of it.

He made a small hum of acknowledgement at their comment. Normally people focusing on that specific aspect of him made him uneased but they even made his back feel precious. “You can touch it, you know.”

Acting on impulse Tav gave his tush a little pinch over his trousers. They had known what he ment but they couldn’t help themself. He was too fun to tease and they felt the need to lighten the mood.

Astarion couldn’t fight the giggle he let out and playfully smacked whatever of them he could reach behind him with his book. “Not that you fool.” His wide grin could be heard in his voice. How they could turn a sleepy soft moment into such a warm humorous time he’d never know, but he hoped they’d never stop. It always made these vulnerable moments so much more comfortable. Really just having them there made being vulnerable so much more natural to him. “I meant the scar. You can get your pinches in later.”

He heard the remaining chuckles bubble from them as they calmed into the intimate moment. What he wouldn’t do to always be the reason for that sound. The soft draw of fingers slowly worked their way up from his lower back to up his spine. They’re hands gently traced the line down the center of his back. Focusing on the curve. While he was braced at first, he slowly relaxed under their repetitive motion. Their warmth melting into the cold flesh. Tav only explored further after they felt his body fully untense itself. Moving on from the delicate dip of his spine to the muscles covering his shoulder blades. Smoothing the skin with their gentle hands, massaging their warmth into his muscles. The scars were barely a thought for either of them as Astarion melted under their sickeningly sweet touch.

Tav could stay here forever watching their guarded lover grow soft in their arms. And Astarion could stay here forever, letting himself enjoy the cathartic comfort of being in his favorite person’s space, with his favorite person wrapped around him.

[tavs-tressym]

Astarion probably loves makeout sessions

Just thinking about it, he really enjoys kissing tav in the game and has an iffy relationship with everything past that as far as intimacy goes. I can imagine he would love just kissing for hours on end and holding each other. Enjoying tavs warmth and listening to their heartbeat.

[tavs-tressym]

Tav spills a glass of milk during mass :(

NSFT - Full image here

[tavs-tressym]

Astarion with glasses 🤓

[tavs-tressym]

more of my tav and astarion being dramatique

[tavs-tressym]

Astarion likes missionary sex. Likes being able to see his love’s face and the way their body reacts to his.

He loves being able to lace his fingers with theirs, and press their hands to the mattress. It grounds him just as much as the steady eye contact does. Doesn’t matter if he has to coax them into it, murmuring “eyes on me, darling” as he rolls his hips into theirs.

He loves the way he can hold them close to his chest as he comes with their thighs wrapped around him, completely engulfed in one another.

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Five

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)

Word Count: 4900 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT), masturbation (a bit), voyeurism (a bit).

WARNING: SELF-HARMING BEHAVIOUR (to feed Astarion), knives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION, CONTAINS POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT, LOVELIES!!! XXX

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Five - Syrup

This morning’s spread isn’t as luxurious as yesterday’s, but you’re putting in all the effort you can. There’s an art to porridge, simple to make, difficult to maste- Okay, it’s porridge… But it does taste surprisingly good considering the lack of resources. Various chopped fruit and berries that you harvested from nearby bushes adorn the top of each bowl. Each one identical and artistic, aside from Karlach’s portion which is arranged in a smiley face. You think she’d like that. You lay the bowls out for the group to pick up in their own time. Then you clean the knife you used for the fruit and hover your wrist over a cup. The knife rests against your skin and… You hesitate. It’s okay, you take a deep breath and try again… You hesitate. “Guh!” You exclaim, jumping, jogging and huffing on the spot.

Okay Tav. You got this. It’s just a little cut. It’ll only hurt for a moment. Come on. Don’t be a coward. Let’s go in three… Two… One!

… You hesitate…

But you push through! Slicing your skin, dripping the scarlet contents of your wrist into the cup until it is full.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…

You grab a cloth and wrap it around your wrist, pressing hard to stop the bleeding. Holding it away from your new shirt, you promptly replace it with a bandage and sigh. You continue to clean the station as the others emerge from their tents and take their bowls with thanks. Lae’zel doesn’t thank you, but you expected that. Each companion spots the cup of blood, but doesn't say anything. Karlach takes her bowl, thanks you whilst giggling at the design before rushing over to Shadowheart to, no doubt, gossip about the blood-filled cup. Gale is the only one who comments.

“Ah, I see you’ve discovered Astarion’s little secret?” In truth, you’re thankful that someone actually said something so you could explain yourself. You nod, smiling. “I’m just happy he wasn’t skipping meals because he was turned off by my cooking.” You chuckle.

“I hope you found out in a more… Appropriate way than we did.” He searches your neck for any injuries.

You gasp. “He didn’t…?”

“He certainly tried. I woke up to his teeth grazing my neck… But once I sent a mild shock of lightning through him, we seemed to understand each other.” You both laugh.

“Well, he just told me. From a safe distance.” Gale watches you giggle, still smiling.

You look at each other for a little longer than is comfortable before he catches himself. “Oh-er- Thank you for breakfast.” He holds up his bowl and walks over to the rest of the group.

Last but not least, Astarion leaves his tent, he revels in the feeling of sunlight on his pale skin as he stretches. He spots you: cleaning and unaware of his presence. You don’t clean gracefully, but brutally. You wrestle with a particularly stubborn spot on the makeshift counter, eyes wild with determination. His eyebrow raises, grinning at the sight before making his way over to you. His movement stutters when he spots the cup, pleasantly surprised to see it there. The closer he gets, the stronger he can smell it, smell you. Resting one hand on the counter and his weight on one hip, he makes a strong and successful effort to pull his eyes away from his gift and onto you. “For me?” At the sound of his voice, you untuck your lips and un-crinkle your nose, leaving the spot alone to see him for the first time today.

Last night ended a little abruptly. Once you noticed he was staring at your lips, you had turned away. You weren’t willing to give him that much. He didn’t say anything about it, but you could tell he was a little frustrated, mostly confused. You had been flirting all night, so why not? You still don’t know and you aren’t ready to look at that yet. But that didn’t stop you from staying up, worrying about how awkward it would be the next morning.

Your grin matches his before you decide to test the waters. “Oh no, that’s Wyll’s, he’s going through a phase.”

A light giggle escapes Astarion’s lips. “That is a shame, now we’re going to have to fight for it.” You smile, shaking your head.

Good… Back to normal…

“Well, hurry up then. Because you took your sweet time, it’s going cold.” He smirks and takes it in his hand, delighted that he can still feel warmth through the metal. He begins to walk away. “Oh no, no, no. You’re not going anywhere until I know how I taste.” He stops and spins around quickly, his grin somehow even wider. You adjust your position, bending over, elbows resting on the counter, one arm lying flat, the other propping up your head under your chin. You raise an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”

“Who’s the freak now?” He taunts.

“Uhuh, enough talking, more drinking.” You say playfully, gently pushing the bottom of the cup up, towards his face.

His eyes: animalistic, as the scent grows stronger. He chuckles a little before breathing it in, deeply. As he exhales, a groan threatens to escape, but he catches it in his throat when he sees your eager eyes in the corner of his vision. He wouldn’t dare to give you the satisfaction. He presses the rim against his lips and hesitates before taking a sip… Which turns into a gulp… Which turns into a chug... The cup is empty, yet still upside down, his mouth still wide open, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids, desperately trying to yield more from it. He admits defeat as no more drops will fall and stares, downcast, into the emptiness. The memory of your taste still dances on his tongue: rich, nutty, buttery syrup. He wipes his teeth clean with his tongue, savouring every smear of red he can find. “Very eager…” Your voice breaks his hypnosis, he clears his throat and regains some control over his body, ensuring the counter hides his bottom half. You giggle, his efforts of concealment flying under your radar. “I’d say that’s a very good sign... So, full review?” Your cheeks begin to ache from your constant smirking, but there’s no stopping it, his reaction was truly delicious.

He sighs, happily. “That… That was amazing…” You sit up to meet him on his level, arms supporting your upper body. Meeting your eyes with his, he licks his lips.

“Good, I take it you’d like to continue with our arrangement then?” He nods. “In that case, you can expect another cup for dinner.”

“Dinner…” He thinks to himself. “Dinner is so far away…” His gaze passes your face and finds the blood-soaked cloth on the table behind you. Saliva begins to rapidly fill his mouth. Then the bandaged cut on your arm grabs his attention: a spot of red, peaking through the white. If he had it his way, he’d drain you entirely, right here, right now. But that wouldn’t be wise, you’re offering this to him, he needs to play by your rules if he wants to keep his new, continuous food source. And he knows it. Plus, he’d miss your company. You feel the danger under his stare.

“Don’t start getting greedy now. One cup per meal, remember?” He swallows before engaging with you again.

“Of course, not one drop more…” He grins, flirtatiously.

“And what do we say…?” You gesture with your hand, expectantly. You love this. He scoffs but when he realises you aren’t letting up, he sighs dramatically, blowing a curl of his hair into the air. “Ugh… Thank you…” He rolls his eyes, but you can tell his gratitude is genuine. You smile triumphantly and take a bite of your own breakfast before turning around, ready to multitask eating and cleaning. Astarion stands there for a minute, looking at anything but you in order to calm himself down. Once he succeeds, he turns around to find every companion staring at him with very, very wide grins. You just beat him at his own game, and everyone saw it.

“Not. A. Word.” He commands, causing scattered giggles to emerge from the group. He adjusts his shirt and storms off into his tent to get ready for the day.

------------------------------------------------------

Once everyone is finished, it’s once again time for everyone to armour up. You notice Karlach struggling with her straps and walk over, offering a helping hand. “Aw… Thanks soldier…” She seems sad when she sees you.

“Don’t mention it… Are you alright?” You ask as you dodge the hot metal of her armour.

“Me? I’m more worried about you! Last night, I-”

“I know. And it’s okay. Really… Astarion told me about your heart… It must be hard, not to be able to touch people…” Her knitted brows relax and she chuckles softly.

“It’s awful… Maybe I’ll tell you the full, long story sometime soon, but the short version? I was betrayed by someone I cared about… Someone I trusted… I was given to Zariel and I became her personal attack dog. She took my heart and stuck this damned engine in it’s place. I spent a decade trying to escape… But, thanks to this mindflayer bullshit, here I am!”

Zariel, you recognise the name, the Archdevil of Avernus.

You finish the last knot and step back to look her in the eyes. There’s no tears, but a deep sorrow, still.“I’m so, so sorry Karlach, I can’t even imagine…” Her mouth becomes a smile, but her eyes don’t match up. She tuts.

“Hey, come on, I’m here now! I’m free! I might be burning hotter than a furnace but I’m free!” When she speaks the word ‘free’, her eyes finally catch up and her whole face lights up. You sigh, then smile at her.

“How I wish I could hug you…” You look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then you have an idea as you spot a stuffed toy bear on the floor. You hold it up.

“Ah, Clive, meet Tav. Tav, Clive.” You laugh and squeeze the bear tightly, rocking with him in your arms. Once the ‘energy has been transferred’, you hold him up for Karlach, posing him so his arms are outstretched. Once she realises what you’re suggesting, you swear you see tears filling her eyes but she shuts them quickly as she takes Clive from you. She holds him close, rocking. She sighs and mouths a ‘thank you’ to you. She finds it difficult to pull away from your indirect embrace, but does so anyway, still smiling at the gesture.

She turns her attention to the rest of the group. “Right gang, let’s go smash some skulls!” Her and the rest of your companions gather and head off together. You wave them off, smiling.

------------------------------------------------------

Last night’s party left quite a list of chores for you today. Certainly not the worst mess you’ve ever had to clean, but it’s pushing it. You work through the camp, humming sweet sounding melodies to yourself as you do. The laundry basket quickly fills with wine soaked rags and clothing. You set it aside to gather the empty wine bottles in a neat formation, ready to be washed and reused for potions. Occasionally you stumble into lost trinkets and jewellery you don’t recognise before shrugging and adding them to the camp inventory. Once the camp begins to look somewhat presentable, you turn your attention to the food station, examining the current and limited ingredients.

Tonight’s meal: Butternut squash pie.

You fold the raw pastry, time and time again. Beautiful layers rest and expand with each waiting period. The squash is well seasoned, roasted over the fire. Onions left to caramelise for as long as possible whilst you assemble the well worked pastry in a greased tin. Once the filling is complete, you take the time to cover it with an intricate pattern, strategic holes poking through pastry petals. Braided crust containing the treasures within. A savoury, sweet concoction all wrapped up and adorned with some of your best work, ready to be baked.

Sinking the basket of laundry into your hip, you make your way to the lake. It’s there that you flick through clothing, separating them neatly and guiding them into the water. As you target smears of red on a ruffled, white shirt, you notice a tear. Along the hem, it sags, revealing a hole, surrounded by torn thread. After doing all you can to cleanse it, you hang the shirt to dry in the sun. It makes quick work of it and once you’ve finished the rest of your task, it is dry.

Sitting with your back against a tree, you drape the fabric over your lap, a small, sharp fish bone in hand. You reflect on your lie as you’re faced with the daunting task ahead of you.

Shit. Why did I say I could sew?!

Hesitantly, you pierce the soft material with a mess of knotted, red thread following the fish bone’s path. You weave and knot it further, leaving messy kinks and bulging mistakes. It doesn’t look great. But, you suppose, fashion is hardly the party’s biggest concern. You hold your pitiful attempt at the sunlight to inspect it. It really doesn’t look good. Alas, it will have to do.

Soon after you’ve folded and distributed the fresh laundry to each tent, the midday drop off arrives. This time, it’s Shadowheart, carrying a bulging backpack as though it weighs nothing. You give a welcoming smile that she doesn’t reciprocate. “Here, this is everything so far…” She plonks the pack on the floor, creating a small dust cloud and a loud thunk.

“Thank you, I’ll sort through it in a moment.” You continue, expecting the sound of distancing footsteps, but there are none. You look up again to find her still standing there. She seems awkward, anxious, her hands intertwining and parting. Puzzled, you ask “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She glances at you. “I…” she begins “I just wanted you to know that I’m… Happy… For you.” The words sound pained, reluctant, a desperate grasp at grace.

“Oh?”

“I saw you earlier, with Karlach.” She pauses. “You’re… A good fit. I think.” You raise an eyebrow as her sour expression becomes clear to you.

She’s jealous.

“Shadowheart, I-” You’re interrupted by a defensive tone.

“Just remember, she has friends. Lots of friends. Understood?” Her inner conflict pushes spite in her threat, making it panicked but firm.

“Shadowheart-”

“I’ll spell it out for you. Hurt her and die by my hand.” She grabs the handle of the mace secured to her hip, just to emphasise the point.

“Shadowheart!” She finally shuts up and lets you speak. “We’re friends. That’s it. Don’t get me wrong, she’s wonderful, but that's just not the nature of our relationship.” There’s a long silence as red slowly creeps onto Shadowheart’s cheeks.

“Oh… I see…” Her embarrassment cannot hide the beginnings of a smile.

“You like her.” You smirk.

“I- What?! I- Don’t be ridiculous!” Her flushed face panics, wide eyed at the accusation.

“You like, like her.”

“I-...” She waits for your cackles to end, unamused. “Alright! Yes, I do…” A deep, sorrowful sigh falls from her mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just… I’m… A cleric of Shar.” She caresses her hand, comforting a small, dark wound. “I have a mission from my cloister and I intend to follow it through, as I have with so many others, but… My devotion leaves little room for… ‘Recreational activities’. Let alone a relationship.” You try to show her your most understanding smile. She seems to soften her edges a little and looks… Sad.

“Well, considering Karlach can’t touch you, I doubt many ‘recreational activities’ would be on the table, anyway.” 

“Oh, I think we could work around it…” She smirks, it seems that she’s thought about the logistics before. You chuckle.

“Surely you have more time now than ever, since being on the road. You could die tomorrow, why not see where it goes for now? What’s the harm?”

She pauses. “Well… I imagine we’ll all split ways once we’re cured, so the distraction shouldn’t linger for much longer than that… Alright, I’ll consider it. I suppose there’s no harm in having a little fun in the midst of all the chaos.” She looks around as you try to hide your smile, so as not to embarrass her. They truly would make an adorable couple.

“And what about you?” She not so subtly segways, moving the attention away from herself.

“What about me?” You almost scoff at the suggestion.

“I’d rather not pretend you haven’t attracted some… Attention. If that’s alright with you?” She says firmly, hand on hip. This time, you do scoff. But not because you don’t believe her, but at the thought of actually committing to any of the potential suitors before you.

“Mmm, yes. I’ve noticed Lae’zel flirting with me too.” A successful attempt to dismiss this topic? Maybe?

“Very funny, but we both know what I mean.” You smirk and shrug. She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I won’t press you.” The smirk turns into a smile, you nod, gratefully. “I should head back, we’ll be back at sundown. See you then.” She disappears down the path, you breathe a sigh before continuing your list of chores.

------------------------------------------------------

It’s getting close to sundown, you cover the pie in the tin and leave it over the fire to bake so that when the group arrives, the smell will find them. Hovering your wrist over the cup feels less daunting this time. You’ve decided to reopen the wound from earlier, as painful as that may be, you don’t want any further scarring on your arm. And so you do just that. The cup is filled and placed on the counter as you hear familiar voices nearing the camp. You watch and wait for them to enter. Astarion arrives first with the rest following distantly behind. He must have rushed ahead. His armour is a deep leather, layered over a black, ruffled undershirt; paired with matching leather pants and extra padding on the knees. It’s lightweight and well fitted to his lean body. There’s blood splattered all over him, adding crimson streaks throughout his otherwise perfectly styled, silver hair. His confident posture suggests that the blood is, thankfully, not his.

Must have been an eventful day…

He looks around and finds you, he grins. You smile and nod your head in greeting. He takes this as an invitation to move closer, trying to ignore the tantalising smell emanating from the cup. “Hello, darling.” He moves behind the counter to get closer to you, resting his elbow on it. You turn to face him, hand on hip.

“Hello, Astarion. Busy day?” You gesture to the state of his apparel.

“Always.” He smirks. The voices grow louder, there are excitable squeals, thumping footsteps and… A bark?

Karlach bursts in with a white-furred, four legged friend following closely behind. She’s holding a bone over her head as the dog jumps at her, playfully. She trips and falls over, giggling as the dog chases the, now flying, bone across the camp and catches it in the air. “Good boy Scratch! Who’s a good boy? Who’s the bestest boy?!” She stands and the mouthwatering smell of dinner fills her nostrils. “Gods…” She turns to you. “Tav! We have a dog! Meet Scratch!” You turn to Astarion with a questioning look.

“Ugh, as you said: ‘Busy day’.” He responds.

“I can see that.” You laugh as the rest of the group enters at a more leisurely pace, the smell of dinner hits them too. Gale practically moans at the scent.

“Tav, you’re putting my humble stew to shame, time and time again.” He says, smiling warmly at you. “Thank you, but you haven’t actually tasted it yet so please try to reduce your expectations for me.” You laugh. You feel Astarion move a little closer whilst you aren’t looking.

“And that is something, I simply cannot wait for. Is it almost ready?” Gale moves towards the pot on the fire.

“Hmm, let me check.” You move past Astarion who watches you leave his side with a slight annoyance at the intrusion on your conversation. You open the pot, allowing the steam to escape before bending over and inspecting the crust with Gale looking over your… ‘Shoulder.’ Well… He’s looking at something… 

Without looking, you reach your hand out behind you. “Could you pass me the-” A rag is placed in your hand before you can finish asking Gale for it. You look back to see Astarion, cup in one hand, towel in the other, standing over you. “Oh, thank you.” You say in slight surprise.

“No, thank you my dear.” He says, tapping his finger on the cup before walking past Gale to sit by the fire. You fold the rag and use it to lift the pot and place it on the counter. You shimmy the pie out and begin slicing it, revealing the glistening, rust coloured interior. You place a slice on each plate and hand them out, receiving the usual thank yous and none thank yous.

Scratch sniffs your legs and sits in your way, waiting patiently. “Uh… Hi, Scratch…” You look at him, awkwardly. His tongue just lolls out of his mouth as he tilts his head in response. “Um… What do you want? What does it want?” You turn to Wyll, hoping he can read this creature’s mind. He chuckles. “I think he’s hungry.”

“Oh…” You scan your brain for the little information you know about dogs. Meat, they eat meat.

“Never had a pet before, Tav?” He asks, amused at your awkwardness in front of a dog, of all things.

“Uh, no. Never seemed like my kind of thing.” You make your way to the food storage, now refilled with bits and bobs from their journey. You take a string of sausages, pull a few off and slowly put them in front of Scratch, yanking your arm away for fear of biting.

Wyll laughs at the sight. “It’s alright Tav, he seems well trained. Look, he’s not even touching it yet.” Scratch whines at the sausages on the floor, awaiting your command.

“Er-Go ahead, Scratch.” You say casually. He doesn’t seem to understand and stays still. You roll your eyes and make a gesture to him, urging him to eat. He pieces it together and pants excitedly before tucking in.

Taking your own plate, you walk back towards the fire and look around to find an empty spot. Each log is big enough for two and most are full. Wyll and Lae’zel are sharing grand battle stories with Lae’zel being not-so-subtle about her attraction to him, making him blush aggressively. Shadowheart and Karlach are deep in conversation, Karlach seems to be unable to take her eyes off of her as she speaks passionately about her love for night orchids. Astarion had tried to sit alone to enjoy his ‘dinner’ in peace, but that didn’t last long as Gale decided to shuffle over and talk his ear off about some theory he had about something or other. As much as you like Gale, even you’re starting to get bored. But, you can’t help but smile as you quietly decide to sit alone, on an empty log to enjoy your pie in the atmosphere of sweet conversations around you. Taking a deep breath, you feel grateful that you get to experience this. That you get to enjoy these peoples’ company. Friends aren't something you’re used to, any friend you had, you had to lose. But not now.

You feel… Safe... Mostly…

Basking in the moment, you look around and notice Astarion stand up and excuse himself, cup still in hand, he enters his tent. Presumably to get away from Gale’s ramblings. Everyone finishes their meal and you gather the plates. You need to wash Astarion’s cup. You set the plates aside and head towards his tent in search of the missing vessel. You begin to call out to him but then you hear something. You swear it was a grunt. Thinking nothing of it, you go to speak again. But stop. This time, you’re sure it was a groan. The whisper of a “Fuck…” followed by quick breaths.

Is he? No way…

There’s a gap in the fabric, candlelight inviting your gaze. You shouldn’t. You know that. But in your mind, you can see what you can’t see, and you have to know if you’re right. Just a passing glance, one moment to confirm your suspicions and that will be all… You lean in…

His back is facing you, one hand encouraging the flow of liquid from the tilted cup. Head tipping back, just far enough for your eyes to gather that his brows are knitted. His right arm seems to be wrapped around something in his lap, his hand peeking out from the left of his waist. You begin to pull away, your vision gaining one more vital piece of information as you do: The rocking of his hips.

You take a deep breath, grinning. You choose a nonchalant approach when you call his name: “Astarion?”

A rapid fumbling can be heard from inside. “Er- Just a minute!” You’re desperately trying to hold back laughter as he pokes his head out, your blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Yes?” You follow the stream as it drips from his chin.

“Cup?” You hold your hand out.

“Ah, y-yes, of course. Wait here.” He dips back into his tent and retrieves it.

“Thank you.” You take it and begin to turn away… But you can’t help yourself, this is too good of an opportunity to make him sweat. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Hm? What? N-no. Why?”

“Oh, you just sounded like you were struggling with something.” You look directly into his eyes with a mischievous grin. He coughs and clears his throat, his pale cheeks becoming tinged with the slightest blush. “But, if you’re sure…” You shrug nonchalantly and begin to walk away, stifling further giggles. You turn your attention to him once more, gesturing to your own chin. “Oh, and you have a little something. Right here.” He immediately wipes it away with his hand and squints at you, clearly irritated by your teasing. That doesn’t stop you from snorting with laughter as you make your way to the rest of the dishes.

You start washing the dishes and by the time you're finished, Astarion emerges from his tent, no longer wearing armour and adjusting his shirt. You make eye contact as you remove your apron, let down your hair, shake it out with your hand and sigh at the relief. He definitely isn’t over it, it’s clear in the way confidently saunters over to you, in a desperate attempt to maintain his pride.

Nice try…

“So, how was it?” You ask with the widest of grins.

He scoffs and folds his arms. “Look, I don’t know what you think you heard, but-”

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just asking how your dinner was.” You wink.

“Of course you are.” He rolls his eyes, then smirks at you. You take two cups from behind you and fill them with wine. “I’m sorry for teasing. Peace offering?” You hold a cup out for him. He grazes your hand as he takes it from you, without hesitation.

“I accept. But, surely you can do better than this, darling.” He flashes his eyes at you, grinning, anticipating your next move.

“Hmm, how about this? Oh, my lord! I beg your forgiveness!” You twirl dramatically, feigning devotion. “Tell me, your majesty, is there anything a lowly subject such as myself can do to earn your mercy?” You take his hand and kneel before him.

He laughs at the display. “I could get used to this.” He takes a sip of his wine. “Fine, I forgive you. Get up.”

“Oh thank you, sweet, merciful lord!” You plant several tiny kisses on his cold knuckles. He doesn’t stop you, enjoying your warmth on his skin.

He chuckles and helps you up. You use your free hand to brace yourself on his chest, regaining your balance. Looking up at him, he smiles, warmly, at you. You smile back. As you remove your hand and pull away to sip your wine, you realise it’s wet. You look at your crimson coated palm, then his bloody shirt. “Um… Ew.” You wipe it on his sleeve. “Do I even want to know where all this came from?”

He raises an eyebrow at your squeamish display, grinning. “I’ll tell you if you come and sit with me.” He gestures towards the lake and as you turn to see it, he moves closer to your ear and whispers: “It’s quite the story.” His breath tickles and sends a shiver down your spine.

You clear your throat and find the wine bottle with your free hand. “Well, in that case…” You wink and begin to head to the lake. Astarion follows closely behind, shooting a smug smirk towards Gale, who was watching the entire interaction from the corner of his eye.

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Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

[tavs-tressym]

i see your kinky astarion and vanilla gale and i raise you vanilla astarion and kinky gale. these mfers be like

astarion: god please can i just have normal sex for once in my life, or even no sex, no sex is good too

gale: i just got so turned on watching you murder demons that i can't think straight, let's fuck in seven dimensions

[tavs-tressym]

Majesty.

[tavs-tressym]

The Affliction Pt1

Side Effects

Pairing: Astarion/Tav (afab)

Summary:Ever since you and Astarion consumed true soul tadpoles, you've felt an enhanced connection with each other. Astarion uses this connection to his advantage and you find yourself willing to comply

Tags: inappropriate use of tadpole powers, vaginal fingering, PIV sex (kinda), humiliation, degradation

Word count: 1,326

After taking a true soul tadpole, you could feel your powers grow. Astarion, who expressed his interest in the tadpoles and the power they could unlock, consumed one as well. It was odd, not only did you feel your abilities grow, but you sensed your connection with Astarion's tadpole enhance as well. It was probably a side effect of the aberration's psychic influence. 

The first time you noticed it was in battle. You felt his bloodlust, it nearly doubled you over until he sucked a worg's blood and you felt revived. The experience was startling, you stared at him in shock, wondering if he knew what you had felt. His eyes met yours, considering the look on your face, and he wiped the blood from his chin to lick his fingers clean. 

Your distracted state cost you. Claws slashing you deeply. You attacked, landing a killing blow, and fell to your knees in exhaustion. It was time to make camp.

After peeling away your blood soaked clothes, Shadowheart took to healing your slash wounds. Despite the comfortability you had to adopt with your companions, you felt a pair of eyes on you making you self conscious. You pushed away the thought, relaxing into Shadowheart's healing magic. It was warm and had a calming effect, much like a bath. 

In your relaxation your mind drifted to Astarion. His piercing eyes and alabaster skin, somehow more beautiful when covered in blood. You felt warmth beginning to grow deep inside you. A ghosting of a touch swept your body and your eyes snapped open, landing on Astarion's. He was watching you from across the camp, stalking almost. You looked at Shadowheart, seemingly oblivious to what had occurred. 

“Is everything alright? You look troubled. Well, more so than usual” she asked, her spell fading. 

You looked at the wounds which had healed under her care. “I'm fine now, thank you. I just need to rest” you said, excusing yourself. You made your way to your tent, hot shame coursing through you. Did he know?

The next day you were determined to keep an iron will. You were just going to the Zhentarim hideout as you were instructed to do. Nothing crazy. 

That's where you felt the phantom touch again. It started light, small, ignorable. A stroke on your outer thigh. You thought it was a stiff breeze. But it persisted, getting braver.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt it pinch your nipple. “Keep it together. These people can turn on us any moment” Astarion whispered in your ear, his breath licking at the delicate skin. You stood in terror. He knew, he saw your preening body and he knew. He could probably smell your desire, Gods, you were ashamed. But how was this happening, and why? Then it struck you, turning your head slowly to meet his mischievous gaze that confirmed everything. He was toying with you.

[Tell me no and I'll stop,] he communed through the tadpole. You wanted to kill him. And yet, you said nothing. [Tell me you want this] his telepathic touch drifted further up your thigh, closer to the apex of your legs.

You focused on the tadpole- on him. [I want this] you admitted, turning back to the reasonably confused trader. The psychic fingers palmed you lightly, rubbing circles with invisible fingers. 

You pressed your thighs together and initiated the trade, distracted by Astarion's touch. The fingers slipped through your lips, causing you to bite your fist in restraint. 

“Look, do you want the bow or not?” The trader asked, irritated by your behaviour. 

Astarion began pumping one finger into you, slowly. “Yes!” You cried out, handing him a bag of gold you were not keen on trading. Had you not been so distracted, you would have bargained. 

After receiving a very suspicious look from the trader and just about half of the cavern (including your companions) you took the bow and walked off, dignity in tatters.

You left the hideout, flustered and humiliated. No one dared utter a word. 

At camp, your companions kept their distance from you. Shadowheart had an inkling of what was going on but had no interest in finding out for herself. Everyone else just thought you were bizarre. You were happy to eat alone for once. After everything that had transpired you couldn't explain yourself. Thats when you felt him. Again. 

Hands squeezing and massaging your breasts, cupping them and rolling the nipples between nonexistent fingers. You looked for Astarion and he was nowhere to be seen. Ah, his tent.

How thoughtful, he gets to play with you in the privacy of his tent while you're in clear sight of all your companions. 

The shame stirred that all too familiar feeling within you. What if you do get caught, will they finally know how pathetic you are?

[I heard that] Astarion's voice pressed into your mind and you tensed. [Who knew you were such a glutton for punishment] he teased, and you felt a new sensation at your clit. A vibration.

The feeling had you biting your lip to suppress a moan. It was like nothing you'd felt before. 

[Tell me, when you come undone in front of our merry band, do you think they'll finally realize what a craven whore you are? You could have crawled away to the privacy of your tent, but you want them to watch] you could hear that sly grin even in your mind.

But he was right, you wanted them to see. [Yes, I'll disgust them] you replied, avoiding Lae'zel's examining stare. You shifted in your seat, hoping the pressure of the ground would press on you further. It did very little to aid you. 

[How needy. Practically rutting yourself on any surface to get off. I wonder what they'll think when you're moaning my name, screaming for more] he said,  pushing some  invisible force inside you. Oh Gods, that must be his cock. It slowly pressed inside, pushing against your walls, giving shallow thrusts until finally- finally, he bottomed out. The vibrations on your clit and his cock stuffing you had you in a lust-filled daze. You couldn't focus on anything except for Astarion. 

He thrusted the cock within you at a brutal pace, you could barely sit up taking this pounding.  Panic filled you. Was there any visible sign? Oddly there was nothing audible save for your quickened breath and shifting thighs. You looked down to see if your cunt was truly gaping, some invisible force present. Nothing. Though some moisture was beginning to build at the center of your core, seeping through your pants from your arousal. 

It was all becoming too much too soon. You stood up to go to your tent and your legs failed you, causing you to kneel on all fours. The new angle drove Astarion deeper into you and you let out a whimper. 

“Tav, are you alright?” Shadowheart came over to you, noticing the sweat covering your body.

[Oh that's it. Let them know what a filthy slut you are. Let them know you let me ruin you]  Astarion's voice rung in your head and you leaned onto your elbows, arching your back.

“It's these cramps. I think my monthly is beginning” you improvised with a surprising conviction. 

Shadowheart nodded and rubbed your lower back to help. You refused to look her in the eye, what you were doing was deplorable. 

[Very cheeky, pup. Now, come for me] He commanded and so you did. You bit your arm, hard to stifle yourself and let your orgasm rock itself through your body. 

“Poor thing. Get some rest, Tav” Shadowheart said watching you get up and stumble into your tent. 

[Poor thing indeed. Find me once everyone else has gone to sleep. I might have a cure for your affliction] he said, ghosting lips over your neck and jaw.

You agreed, skin burning in anticipation for the night to come.

[tavs-tressym]