Tumgik
#astarion x gn!tav
commander-rahrah · 2 days
Note
I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!
I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.
He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭
What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞
He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭
He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him 😤
He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹
He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!
I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳
You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍
Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.
They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.
After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.
What do you think of it? I'm curious :3
Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️
I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨
“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction. 
“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”
Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”
The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?
His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?
You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”
His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.
“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.
His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”
And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.
He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.
Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.
Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.
“Hi.”
The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.
“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?
“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”
He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”
He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”
You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”
Well, there was no denying the inevitable.
He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.
The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.
His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.
“I understand.”
“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.
“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”
Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”
“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”
Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”
You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”
“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.
You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”
“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”
“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”
Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”
“Do you trust me?”
The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”
“I trust you,” You said softly.
“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“
You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”
He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”
Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it match your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”
92 notes · View notes
lovrspell · 2 months
Text
First time
Pairing: Astarion x Gn!Reader.
Summary: a little throwback to when Astarion received aftercare for the very first time — from you.
Warnings: Fluff. Suggestive. Mentions of abuse/trauma. Inability to manage displays of affection. Vampire bite. Blood sucking. Aftercare.
Word count: 2,3k
Masterlist.
Tumblr media
Looking back in time and examining your relationship with Astarion now and several months ago, you realize how much progress you have made together. Astarion, especially.
Now, he trusts, loves, and cherishes you effortlessly, finding comfort in the familiarity of your presence. Your intimate moments are a source of joy, marked by the tenderness of your comforting kisses and caresses. He's accustomed to it all.
But... Before, things were different.
Sometimes you recall the times when he shamelessly hit on you, and you're surprised that you deluded yourself that it was real interest, at least in the beginning — he used it as a defense mechanism, it was something rooted in him.
As for your first night together, it was... Well, it was definitely memorable.
———
“...Are you okay?" you asked, still out of breath from the passion you two just shared. The air in the tent was humid — you had quite the experience.
He turns to you, that usual smirk of his playing on his lips. “W-.. A-ha! Why wouldn't I be okay? I could finally taste you. Of course I'm okay.”
You gave a slight nod, lying down again. Astarion had already sat up, and in that position you could capture even the smallest details of that huge scar on his back you noticed earlier while you undressed him — but you didn't dare to ask about it yet.
In a brief spell of silence, you found yourself teetering between the realms of dreams and reality. The tranquility was interrupted by the sound of a forced cough. Abruptly, your eyes opened to the sight of Astarion staring down at you, fully clothed, wearing a somewhat snarky expression.
He looked anxious. Not his usual self, for sure.
In your half-asleep state, seeing him like that worried you. Were you talking in your sleep, by any chance? Were you drooling?
“What's— What's wrong?”
He raised an eyebrow, shifting his weight from hip to hip.
“It's kind of late, darling.” his tone had something almost impatient about it.
“I guess it is.”
Poor, oblivious you.
In that moment, you witnessed such confusion in him that it made you blink a few times; you couldn't wrap your head on where he was trying to go with that.
Parallelly, he couldn't understand you. Usually he offered his body, the other person took advantage of it and then… They left. But you? You were still there. And you hadn't even bothered to get dressed.
It was natural finding it a bit peculiar to see you still in his tent several moments after your climax. Was there a silent invitation for another round lingering in the air? Was he supposed to read between the lines?
A few moments of silence lingered as he gazed at you, perplexed. You returned the same gaze until a subtle shift in your expression hinted a realization –
Perhaps he sought some personal space.
Feeling a tinge of embarrassment, you blushed, not wanting to come across as intrusive.
“You want me to go?”
He's lost in his thoughts and, very unlikely of him, at a loss of words, apparently. It seems like his brain was trying to process too many informations at the same time, resulting in him going silent.
But you, at the time, as accustomed as you were and still are to gentle kissing and lingering caresses after the thrills of sex, recognized his behavior as annoyance towards your presence; therefore feeling unwanted you took it personally. Still, you didn't want to be on his tail.
“...Alright.”
You began to gather your clothes rather quickly, which were scattered here and there around the tent. As you absentmindedly buttoned your shirt, his gaze was fixed on you.
“See you tomorrow, Astarion. Thank you for... This. Good night.”
The fact that you thanked him for having sex with you baffled him enough, but never as much as the little kiss you planted on his cheek before leaving his tent. Simple and tender.
The tent flap swayed back and forth gracefully, following the lead of the gentle wind on a quiet night. His gaze lingered on the space where you had just been, right in front of him.
What was that?
He tried to think clearly.
During this shared night, he found no compulsion to wander far, to delve into the empty, dark yet strangely comforting realm he usually retreats to in moments like these — while to no one's surprise he effortlessly entered that familiar mental space without conscious effort.
He had sex with you because he knew no other way to gain your trust and protection. That looming, self-loathing sensation is still there, clawing under his skin and nibbling at his self respect with a trillion sharp teeth — but that kiss... That simple kiss on the cheek made him feel something he can't quite define. It's new and scary.
He wondered if it was really necessary to do all this to have your support in this journey.
He was too accustomed to the life he led under Cazador's command — seducing to survive. You're the first person he's willingly had sex with since escaping Cazador and he wasn't even fully into it; the thought upsets him.
Perhaps he's overthinking a simple kiss on the cheek.
But was it that simple?
The thoughts reached a deafening crescendo, and, as if emerging from a dream, he blinked several times and looked around, dazed. He needed to rest.
———
It's been a while since your sexual encounter. Astarion has not failed to make some teasing remarks about it every now and then, alluding to a second chance to indulge in each other again.
That second opportunity occurred, but several days after the first. It happened when you told him that he could feed on you that night and agreed that you would meet at your tent.
Astarion came to visit you late in the evening, when almost everyone had already retired to their tents. He found you reading a book, lying on your stomach.
“Hello, darling.” he greets you, his voice a sound that wakes you from your trance from the huge book you were absorbed into.
“Hi,” you reply distractedly, turning quickly towards him and taking the opportunity to stretch. You pushed the book aside, closing it.
It seemed that over the course of the day you had forgotten that you had proposed him to feed on you — the look of surprise on your face that dissolved rather quickly gave it away. You were visibly tired, he noticed. However, as soon as your eyes met his, you offered a gentle, sheepish smile — the kind reserved for moments when words become wearisome.
Allowing him to feed on you even when it seemed that all you wanted to do was rest stirred a semblance of life in his chest.
You sat up, adjusting comfortably. “I’m ready.” you informed him, moving the fabric of your clothing away from your neck to expose it to him.
Astarion stared at you, and for a moment he didn't say or do anything. He wanted to do something different this time, not just bite you, suck your blood, and then return to his tent. No, he wanted to try something new.
Instead of bringing his mouth to your neck, he brought it to your lips. He kissed you slowly, introducing his tongue in your mouth tentatively — but when he felt the natural tension vanish from your body, he brought his hands to your waist and deepened the kiss.
Astarion felt you melt in his arms, remembering how you had let yourself go the same way a few nights before.
Your hands came up to rest on his shoulders; Astarion leaned towards you until you were laying down. His lips separated from yours with a pop and only then did he place them on your neck. But even there, before sinking his sharp fangs into your skin, he planted a few kisses here and there.
He persisted, leaving a trail of kisses that moistened your neck. His lips traced a path to a point just under your ear, where he planted an open-mouthed kiss. Suddenly, you experienced a sharp, dull pain spreading rapidly in that spot. You hissed, clutching his shirt tightly and exhaling sharply; you heard a soft hum coming from him as he immediately began swallowing mouthfuls of your warm, succulent blood.
That little kissing ritual was to thank you, in a way. You were and have always been available to him, despite his bad temper and grumpy tendencies.
As he fed, the movement of one of your hands moving from his shoulders distracted him.
Next, he felt the touch of a gentle hand running through his hair.
He was so focused on sucking your blood that he didn't even notice for the first few seconds. Accordingly, he felt the distinct touch of your warm hand move across his cheek and cupping it.
What are you doing?
Your tender touch left him puzzled. Akin to a feather's caress, it cradled him in a way that stirred a desire more profound than any teasing or vulgar contact could evoke.
You felt him grunt against you, the guttural sound vibrating through your being.
Those touches reminded him of that kiss you had printed on his cheek after your night together; his stomach twisted in contrasting sensations.
He pulled away from you after a few seconds, but your caresses didn't stop. Your blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, his hair disheveled as a result of your fingers combing through his curls.
“What's up?” you asked, trying not to giggle at the fact that he looked like he had just woke up. You reached an hand in his hair to fix some wild curls back in their place.
He didn't answer at first, but then he shrugged slightly.
“Nothing.” he muttered softly, his body moving in your direction almost without his control. He was experiencing new things within himself, things he had never felt before.
A desire. A genuine desire, nothing that had to do with that of a few evenings prior. Despite his less-than-noble intentions previously, he openly acknowledges being drawn to you. However, unlike before when intimacy served a strategic purpose, this time things are different.
He craves you spontaneously, yielding to the impulse of the moment. While leaning in for a passionate, bloody kiss on your lips, he pledges not to flee from this moment or from you. No mental refuge exists now, just two bodies entwined and two souls merging into one another.
The tenderness of that kiss amazed you.
You feel his arms wrap around your waist to lift you up in his lap, kisses trailing down your neck to suck briefly on the holes he left in it.
One thing led to another and a few minutes later, you were both naked and nestled into each other.
Astarion was thrusting his hips into you breathlessly, continuing just to try drawing another orgasm out of your guts before you pull apart. This has been going on for a while now; he has absolutely drained you. In every way.
You had noticed a certain vigor in him, which was not given solely and exclusively by the fact that he had just made an excellent reserve of blood. He felt alive, present, current. He was there with you, made a puddle in your arms while you cradled each other through your collective ecstasy.
If the first time his gaze seemed empty and absent, often far from yours, now it was bright and lively, never too distant from your own. It was impossible not to notice the difference.
When the rush of pleasure died down, he pulled away from you slowly, almost reluctantly. He came down from above you to lie next to your body; both sweaty and out of breath, you remained silent for several minutes.
You anticipated for him to leave as soon as possible, given the discomfort he displayed that evening when you prolonged your stay just a bit, expecting to spend some time together after your sexual activity.
But he remained there, next to you, his expression thoughtful but relaxed. You assumed he didn't want to leave just yet.
However, just as that pleasant, inviting thought etched itself into your beliefs, he sat up and reached for his undergarments dispersed around the tent.
You frowned, sitting up and reaching for his arm without even thinking twice.
“Wait, wait... Why don't you stay?”
You didn't fail to catch him off guard this time, too. Your voice had such a sweet, pleading edge to it.
“We can talk, we can... We can even just be silent together. Do you want to?”
He guessed it couldn't hurt to try.
He lay down again, putting his clothes aside. He saw you smile from the corner of his eye as you did the same, this time lying on your side.
One of your hands carefully came up to caress his chest tentatively. The tips of your nails scratched his skin deliciously, sending shivers down his spine. His eyes fluttered and he looked up at you; he was confused, disorientated.
“What are you doing?”
“Do you not like it?”
“...I do.”
“Then just enjoy it.”
He followed your advice.
In that instant, he embodied a certain beauty that surpassed his usual charm. Surrendering to your soothing enfolds, he reached a blissful state, breaking down every wall and baring his soul to you. Every muscle in his body eased into relaxation. He scoots closer until he's basically all curled up in your arms, melting against your comforting heat.
That night, he shared a peaceful slumber with you, and to this day, he never ceases to express his profound gratitude for the invaluable gift of your love.
You made his dead heart start beating again.
2K notes · View notes
spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
Text
Batstarion Headcanons
Non-Ascended version
Masterlist
Headcanons
He enjoys his new abilities to the highest extent.
Being able to fly is the ultimate freedom, and being able to transform into a flying thing is the skill he never knew he wanted.
The problem is he is the most adorable little white bat the world has seen and also the size of a cat.
And you don't let him forget about it.
When he is in the bat form, you try to squeeze and rub him like a cat.
Also speaking to him with the stupid voice people use to talk to babies and pets.
He pretends it annoys him, but it doesn't.
Though Astarion gets annoyed when you wrap him in a piece of cloth, making him fold his wing around his body.
"Oh, we both know if you really didn't like it, you would transform back!"
When you travel, he sometimes sits on your shoulder, and you mock him for being a lazy vampire.
But he does it to transform back in the most unexpected moment and push you onto the ground with all his weight.
Traveling in the daylight is so much easier - he hides under your shirt like a cat, looking with his small red eyes on the world in the sun.
Time to time you give him your finger to drink blood - in the bat form, he doesn't need a lot, and you can both relax.
"Is it a cat you are carrying there?" "No, it's my ... pet bat!" "Aww, it's so adorable!"
And you keep rubbing the bat's head with your finger.
The moment he transforms back, he looks at you accusingly.
"Adorable? Really?"
"Not so much as in your regular form."
Sometimes you are so tired and stressed he can't console you - neither sweet words nor hugs help. Then, he transforms into the bat and just sits on your shoulder purring into your ear.
He also transforms when it's too much for him.
When he feels disgusted about his body and the cold grip of horror squeezes his undead heart, he turns into the bat mindlessly and tries to hide or fly away.
You often manage to let him hide in your clothes, hiding him from the world by your body and thin fabric.
Bonus (you and Astarion have a dhampir daughter):
She can polymorph into the bat from a very young age.
And you are in awe of how tiny little bats are (she can easily be put in a pocket of your shirt).
She also uses it as her stress-response.
The second she sees something scary, she transforms into a tiny vampire pup (also white in color) and hides in her father's sleeve or under his jacket.
"What scared you, princess?" he asks, touching the delicate wings.
*angry and scared squeaking*
Tag list @tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy
2K notes · View notes
comatosebunny09 · 5 months
Text
insecurities | astarion a.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.
Tumblr media
The night is quiet.
Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.
You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.
You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.
Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.
You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.
“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth. 
Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”
You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”
Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”
Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”
You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”
“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”
You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”  
“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”
“Astarion!” 
You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.  
Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.
“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.
“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”
Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.
“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.
You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.
“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”
“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”
The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.
Ah, well. Maybe next time.
Tumblr media
masterlist
1K notes · View notes
Text
Imagine Astarion with ears so sensitive that he's never willingly allowed anyone to touch them except for you. Imagine laying next to him in your bed, facing him, lifting your hand up slowly for that first touch. His eyes on yours, the rapidity of the breath he doesn't need to take, but still does reflexively. Seeing that he's nervous, but that he's trusting you, feeling his shaking hand come to rest on your waist. The audible sound he makes- half a moan, half a gasp- when you finally brush your thumb over the soft skin at the tip of his ear.
You trace the long shell of his ear and watch his pretty eyes, deep red like velvet in the moonlight, flutter shut. He says your name softly, as close as you've ever heard him to prayer. You pinch his earlobe gently, and his hips roll forward involuntarily, the jut of his hipbone pressing against your thigh as he makes himself still. Heat flares low in your belly, but you tamp it down as quickly as possible- likewise, Astarion makes himself still against you. This isn't sex and won't become sex, you'd promised each other (though that's not to say that you won't explore this thoroughly during one of your hours-long lovemaking sessions. He is all about experimentation these days, after all).
You lay there, touching him in his most vulnerable place, with reverence and grace and occasionally disbelief that you could be here at all with this beautiful, horrible, ridiculous and wonderful man, that you could be trusted so completely. You take in his every shuddering breath, the flexing of his fingers in your shirt, the softness of his mouth when he presses his lips to yours and tells you he loves you. If you have your way, if he has his, if somehow your utterly insane lives hold together for a year or a decade or ten, it will always be like this.
651 notes · View notes
dancingbirdie · 6 months
Text
I interrupt your daily schedules to present some purely plotless Astarion x gn! Reader smut. Courtesy of me listening to an oldie but goodie "What's My Name" by Rihanna ft. Drake during my morning commute.
Note that this is seriously NSFW so don't read below the break line unless you're a horny little gremlin like this pair or me since yeah I wrote it. :)
Like my smut writing? Find more here.
The Things We Could Do in Twenty Minutes…
Rating: MATURE
Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader
Tags/Warnings: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), hand kink, slight praise kink, slight dom!Astarion/sub!Reader, public sex/exhibitionism
Summary: You and Astarion have been tasked with a scouting mission. You grow a little bored from waiting around and very horny watching Astarion play with his knife.
***
The two of you were leaning side by side against the alley wall. Watching. Waiting. Poised to strike whenever your quarry exited the tavern across the street. 
But it was late. You had been skulking about for hours. You were bored. 
And Astarion, gods damn him, was flush against you, smelling like temptation and sin. Subtle wafts of his signature bergamot, rosemary, and brandy scent teased your nose as his fingers idly spun his blade around in his hands. 
Your breath hitched as you watched him. Watched how gracefully those long, slender fingers absently played with the knife while his eyes scanned the street for any signs of activity. He was totally oblivious to your ogling, which was good because you could swear you were starting to salivate just watching him toy with his weapon. 
You wondered how those fingers would feel scratching against your scalp. Pulling your hair. Clasping your jaw. 
Fuck it, you thought. Throwing caution to the wind, you reached a hand forward to caress his chest. His head whipped around immediately to look at you, brow furrowed. It was an innocent enough gesture, but his eyes caught the look on your face, illuminated dimly in the silvery light of the moon. How your pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust. 
He smirked, one delicate fang peeking out from between his lips. 
“Can I help you?” he drawled. 
“You can actually,” you whispered. Your hand lightly traced down his chest, down his abdomen, before it stopped at the bindings of his trousers. 
You looked up at him beneath your lashes, your eyes beseeching.
“My, my,” Astarion chuckled, his voice like silk. “Wanting to play while we’re on the clock? Tsk. What would our comrades think?”
“It’ll make our cover seem more convincing, don’t you think?” you reasoned, licking your lips as you noticed the growing bulge between his legs. “Just two unassuming lovers, swept up in a moment of passion as they passed this dingy alley?”
“Our target should be leaving any moment now, darling. We wouldn’t want to miss our window of opportunity.”
“I give it at least twenty minutes before the tavern closes. And just think, the things we could do in twenty minutes…”
He gave a throaty laugh. “You make a very convincing argument. How could I ever deny you?”
“Is that a yes then?” your voice was husky, struggling to contain the urge to drop to your knees and taste him. You would wait for his consent. Of course you would wait. But you couldn’t deny the heady desires ratcheting up within you. 
“Yes,” he cooed, nuzzling your neck and planting a quick kiss against the fang marks he’d left earlier that evening. “Go on then, love.” 
“Thank the gods,” you groaned, immediately kneeling before him and undoing the bindings of his breeches. 
You captured him in your mouth as soon as his impressive length sprang free, tasting the salt and musk of him as you took him as far back as your throat would allow. Your eyes watered with the pressure of him pressing down your throat. It was the sweetest pain. 
You heard the muffled thump of his head as it hit the brick wall. You relished the tortured groan that spilled from his lips as you continued to gorge yourself on him.
Then a moan of your own vibrated against him as his hands moved to grip your hair. His fingers scratching against your scalp nearly had your eyes rolling back into your head. With your hands braced on his thighs, you continued to bob your head, sucking, licking and swallowing around him. 
He tasted like the purest drug you could ever inject into your veins. You would never tire of doing this for him. Of hearing and feeling how your mouth and tongue caused him to shiver and quake with pleasure. You could feel your own release building because of it, despite the lack of any stimulation to your groin. It didn’t matter. 
You had no desire for anything but Astarion’s pleasure tonight. 
“Look at me,” he growled suddenly. You felt his fingers clutch your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. 
You peered up at him as you continued to piston your mouth around his length, whining softly as you beheld the look in his eyes. 
“I want you to look at me while I cum in that gorgeous, sinful mouth,” he whispered, his hips beginning to buck into you, meeting your movements in perfect synchrony. 
You moaned again at his words, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum as you continued to suck him. 
“Are you ready, darling?” he murmured, his other hand reverently stroking your hair. A stark contrast to the absolutely deplorable things you were doing to his cock. 
You gave a garbled assent, taking him in with a surge of passion as you anticipated the feeling of his release shooting down your throat.  
A few moments more and your anticipation was rewarded in full. You groaned as you heard him grunt. Felt his final, feral thrust into your mouth. Tasted the salty sweetness of his cum on your tongue. 
As he came down from his high, you gave him one last, obscene lick before removing your mouth. Slouching against the wall, utterly spent, he watched as you deliberately met his eyes and swallowed his cum with a gulp. He hummed his approval, grinning wickedly. 
“You naughty thing,” he crooned. “You’ll be the death of us both.”
You returned his grin with an impish one of your own before wiping your mouth clean on the sleeve of your shirt and rising to stand next to him once more. 
You surveyed the street. Scanned the tavern for signs of movement. Nothing was amiss. Your quarry hadn’t escaped.
“See?” you murmured, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Twenty minutes was all I needed.”
***
2K notes · View notes
whiskeyskin · 1 month
Text
Love and Longing
Premise: When Elminster delivers Mystra's blessing to reprieve Gale from the Orb's volitile nature, there's a certain something he's been denying himself for over a year and he's finally alone in his tent 👀🍆💦
• Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M Rating
Gale's POV, reader referred as "you", no mention of specific pronouns or genitals, porn without plot, male masturbation, fantasising, oral both recieving, penetration, jealousy, love, longing, horny!gale, fluff, lemons, Astarion x gn!tav referenced, marking if you squint
1.9k words
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Gods bless you @wizardblood for this gifset we gladly receive 🥵✨
A/N: Y'all are making me UGLY CRYY WITH JOY AT THESE LOVELY COMMENTS 😭😭😚😚 Thank you for over 500 notes!! You beautiful, thirsty creatures 😏💜
A/N: 700 NOTES?! 🥹🥹 I love each and every SINGLE one of you 😚✨
_____________________________
Gale looked down at the solid protrusion currently causing his bedroll to tent, attempting to keep his breathing even.
It had been what felt like an age since he'd allowed himself to indulge in arousal.
He lay under the blankets, naked as a babe, anticipation crackling in the air around him.
After removing the charm on his underwear to suppress such feelings, it had all come flooding back.
Especially with you around.
His attraction to you was undeniable, however much he thought it impossible; especially after his heartbreak with Mystra. Nevertheless, his feelings for you grew with each step you took, every kind word and all the good you sought to accomplish.
You'd spoken in his defense passionately when Elminster had delivered Mystra's word; the fire in your heart had rivalled that of Karlach.
You'd vowed that there was another way to be found. That you wouldn't allow him to sacrifice himself.
And he loved you for it.
Gods dammit, he did.
He'd fallen hard for you.
He tried to deny it, of course.
It wouldn't lead anywhere.
He had to die.
It was his destiny to end the Absolute, whatever the cost.
No matter stolen glances across the campfire. Ignoring the heated moment of magic between you, where you'd shown him how you felt for him.
Besides, you'd taken Astarion to bed multiple times since the Tiefling party. He couldn't compete with the sultry advances of the Pale Elf.
His paultry offerings of affection wouldn't stand a chance.
But still, a part of him envisioned what life could be like if it was spent by your side.
Hearth crackling, the day's sun swooping low in the sky across the water, two arm chairs and a bottle of wine.. candle light and the smell of strawberries, sweat and arousal. The sound of your voice against his ear, the feeling of your wet, ribbed warmth welcoming him home after a long and stressful day.
Gale licked his bottom lip, his breathing heavy. He reached a hand under the sheets, in the privacy of his tent, to indulge in thoughts of you.
Gods, he wanted to use his mouth on you, he wanted to drown in your heady scent. He would press kisses against your inner thighs, teasing and tormenting, languishing tongue and teeth.
Your unfettered arousal evident before him as he would glide his mouth up your sex, tasting your sweetness and salt. You'd moan his name and wind a fist into his hair, sending sparks through his scalp.
He took the tip of himself in his first fingers, pre-cum had already gathered between the slit and dripped onto his stomach.
Taking a deep breath, he began to gently pulse the head. He hissed as blinding pleasure seared across his vision and sunk low in his belly.
"Ahhh.." he exhaled, with a widening, sinful grin.
Finally, he could touch himself after all these months.
He gritted his teeth against another groan that tried to escape. The sensation of oanism foreign to him but welcome, thoughts of you flooding his mind, as he fell into an old, familiar rhythm.
Oh, you would moan so sweetly underneath him, as he filled you to the brim with his cock. You'd envelop him to the root, sensually clenching your walls around his girth.
Gale replicated the feeling by adding a second hand to squeeze, imagining you enveloping him.
He moved slow and deliberate, like you were taking him for the first time. Every rib of his fingers torture against his sensitive flesh. He pumped his hands in unison, along the thick, veined length of himself, building up the pressure constricting his erection, increasing the speed and fantasizing that he was entangled in your loving embrace.
He'd hold your legs aloft, parted just for him. You'd bray like a wild animal in heat, with the need for his throbbing length to ride you to climax.
One hand clumsily slid to cup his testicles, to massage them and drive him closer to the edge. His hips gyrated at nothing, rutting against the thought of you.
You'd climb to take control and ride him like a stallion through the night. He would hear the salacious slapping of your cheeks against his hips, as he'd watch you bounce yourself in wanton bliss.
He'd hold on to your waist, fingertips digging in hard enough to cause contusions.
He wanted to bruise you, claim you as his own. He wanted to sucker his ownership right over Astarion's bite marks.
He had no right to this ugly and repulsive feeling of jealousy, he knew this.. but he couldn't help himself.
They both vied for your attention and he couldn't stand that Astarion had tasted you when he hadn't.
He wanted to hear your cries as he fucked up into you, slamming your hips down on him harder. Gods, he wanted his name on your lips.
Gale licked the sweat gathering on his top lip; he imagined it was you tasting him.
He fantasied about you using your beautiful mouth on him. You'd cover his body in long, wet, trailing kisses before you'd take him in your mouth. You'd gorge on his cock until he couldn't breathe. Your skillful tongue needy to please him. Your hands wielding a very different kind of weapon, sheathing it entirely down your spectacular throat.
You'd look up at him through lidded gaze, his hard length completely engulfed. The contact would be searing, it would burn him to the spot, it would ignite his soul and turn him to willingly to ash.
There would be love and devotion in your eyes, blissful happiness in your heart.
Gale swallowed and shook his head from side to side.
He wanted to see you.
Wanted you to see him.
See him like this for you.
Helpless and desperate for just a moment of you.
He wanted you to look at him with adoring eyes that turn lustful, when you see him abusing himself, with your name on his lips.
Gale uttered the illusion cantrip and you appeared on your knees beside him. He gasped and smiled brightly at you. He knew it wasn't real but gods he wanted it to be.
You smiled back at him, infatuation shining in your eyes.
"Gale.." softly came the only word he'd been able to summon you to utter. It was warped but it was still your voice. It was still you.
He threw back the covers so you could see him. See all of him. Naked. So you could drink in the sight of him stroking his thick, alert and wanting cock to the thought of you.
"It's for you. Only for you. Going to come for you-just for you." He managed, his voice husky from lust.
"Gale.." You whispered, licking your lower lip and gliding your hands up your strong thighs. You cup yourself through your camp garb and palm yourself in circles, "Gale.." you moan, throwing your head back slightly as you ground against your hand.
His hips twitched unconsciously at seeing your image pleasuring yourself for his enjoyment. That you felt this joy together.
A rumble started to build behind his cock, it tightened around his belly and coiled itself around his legs. It rose through his chest, painfully electrifying his nipples to stiff points, as it wound it's way to the base of his skull. There it gripped him, held him, allowed him to go no further.
He whined in frustration. Gods he wanted to come, it had been so long, so very long.
"Gale..?" Came your voice, he looked at you and his stomach flipped uncomfortably in desire.
You looked spectacular; hair mussed, eyes glassy and wide, lips pink and swollen from lust. Still touching yourself through your clothes, rocking vigorously against the friction.
You placed a hand on your heart and threw your head back in ecstasy. His body began to violently tremble in anticipation.
Oh gods, you looked resplendent on the precipice of orgasm.
"Gale!" You whimpered, sweat glistening on your skin, "Gale.. Gale.. Gale.." you moaned between breaths, your image replicating the noises he'd overheard when you'd snuck into the forest, and committed to memory. The reckless abandon of your heady moans of pleasure. Your face tightened and released, your mouth falling open to gasp.
The desire at the back of his head suddenly pulled taut, every muscle strained, pressure swelling behind his erection. His eyes rolled back in his head, before he came undone.
He jerked and thrashed on his bedroll, trying and failing to keep his ministrations to himself. Thick spurts of cum shot over his stomach, chest and neck, as he came hard for you.
"For you-all for you-only for you." He whimpered, his jaw tense, teeth bared.
He pumped raggedly, squeezing every single drop of his seed from himself. It was almost to the point of pain but the pleasure balanced it perfectly to make the suffering delicious. His muscles seized and toes curled to their fullest extent, as he huffed out a breath and lay feeling weightless on the carpeted interior of his tent.
Gale lay there breathing heavily, sweat damp on his brow. His softening cock still pulsating with after effects, within his loose grasp, as his brain buzzed with static.
His heart felt twice it's size and his entire being was in total elated relaxation, with a doltish smile plastered across his face.
He could quite happily lay like this forever.
It had been so long.
He couldn't remember release being like this.
It was.. dizzying.. violent.. euphoric.. transcendent.. monumentous..
sticky..
cold..
uncomfortable..
"Oh no." Gale groaned, as he looked down on his masterpiece.
Your image had disappeared; there was no way he couldn't have concentrated through that kind of orgasm, even if his life depended on it.. and Mystra's eyelids, the mess he'd made of himself.
His cum lay heavy on his stomach and chest, spattered up to his neck and jaw. Hells, it was even on the floor!
He internally grumbled to himself.
This was the not so fun part of masturbation.
The sharp thud back to reality and the clean up.
He sighed. Well, that was short lived.
Lucky for a Wizard, clearing away the stains of his growing shame, was painless.
Gale waved his hand and the evidence of his debauchery disappeared.
He suddenly felt empty and hollow. The euphoria of release gone all too soon. Slumping back on to his bedroll and bringing the covers up against the chill, he frowned to himself, a cavernous feeling in his chest.
Gale waved his hand, using his last spell slot to conjure your image again.
You appeared laid down with him, tucked closely, your stunning eyes soft and content.
His heart ached; he wanted this.
It didn't matter how much he denied it, he knew what love felt like in the beginning and this was it.
This wasn't because of a covetous, lustful haze from the urgency of ejaculation.
It was comfort.
It was safety.
It was love.
And it terrified him.
More than the thought of ending as a small blip in the farest reaches of the realm. More than dying alone in excruciating agony.
Falling in love with you scared him because it meant that now, he had something to live for.
You smiled sleepily at him and readjusted yourself to get comfortable beside him.
"Night." You whispered, blowing him a slow kiss, closed your eyes and curled in nearer to him.
He stared longingly at your resting form; you looked so peaceful. Wet stinging burned his eyes and he sniffed dryly.
He needed to get to sleep.
He really should..
You'd only last a minute.
He couldn't bare the thought of opening his eyes again without you there, laying beside him..
Tears fell from his eyes and dripped to his pillow, as he shut them tight, "Goodnight, my love."
***
730 notes · View notes
littlejuicebox · 4 months
Text
My Sun, My Moon
Tumblr media
Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"
*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!
I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."
Click here to see my master list.
-----
After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.
But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.
“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.
You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”
“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”
“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.
“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”
He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.
You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”
Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.
-----
Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.
You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.
Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.
“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.
You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.
Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”
Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.
You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.
“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”
The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.
Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.
When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.
“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.
The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.
A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”
You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”
Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.
Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”
You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.
“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.
I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”
Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.
“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.
Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”
As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.
When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”
-----
Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.
“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”
You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”
You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.
“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”
Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.
“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”
Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.
“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”
954 notes · View notes
bg-brainrot · 29 days
Text
More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.
Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism
A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:
Word count: ~3.2k
Tumblr media
Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.
It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”
Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”
Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”
One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.
“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”
The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”
That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”
“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”
“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”
You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 
Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.
Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.
“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.
There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”
“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"
There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.
You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.
“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”
The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”
“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.
Wait, is he actually inviting her?
You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”
There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.
__
That evening, Astarion slips away.
It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.
As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.
But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.
It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.
You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.
“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”
“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”
After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”
“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”
His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.
Almost as if…
“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.
“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.
“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.
He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”
You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”
Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.
“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.
You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”
He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.
“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.
“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.
You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”
Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.
When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.
“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”
“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.
“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”
“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.
Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”
Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.
“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”
“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”
“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”
Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”
You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”
“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.
“A fool for you.”
The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”
He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.
“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”
“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”
The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”
This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”
“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.
Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.
“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”
He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.
“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.
Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”
At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.
“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”
You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.
“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”
Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”
“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.
He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.
It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.
“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”
The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.
“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.
So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.
No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…
“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.
You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”
“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”
He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”
Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”
“Astarion–”
“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”
If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”
“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”
Oh great, she’d heard everything.
“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.
“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”
“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”
“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”
You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”
“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.
With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”
529 notes · View notes
dragonsholygrail · 4 months
Text
Without Much Spoken
Astarion x gn!Reader
a/n: My first attempt at posting for bg3 and Astarion. But I plan to continue posting many more fics for not only this lil guy, but for a lot of the party! So stick around!
summary: During one night of your groups travels together, Astarion enters the room to find you overwhelmed and crying. Acting before thinking it through, Astarion comforts you.
word count: 1.1k
Tumblr media
Walking up the stairs of the Inn their group was staying in for the next couple of days, Astarion opens the door as he normally would, heading to bed after the exhausting day that had finally, at last, ended. He was more than ready to plop into bed and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His only true escape that lasted far few hours.
But as soon as the door creaked open, a small sliver of light shining through, your sobs broke through the silence like a fierce screech. They stopped a moment after, the silence even more heavy and the tension growing thick the longer neither of you speak.
Astarion opens the door, only a bit further. Enough for the light from the hall to catch on your features. Your frozen, having fled to isolation in order to prevent this. To stop anyone from seeing you, to not bother anyone else with the weight of your intensely hyperactive feelings. Especially him. God, you didn’t want to bother him with this.
Astarion was always good for a light joke, a quick quip. He was good at that. At making things feel lighter, even unintentionally making you feel better at times. But that’s not what you wanted right now. You didn’t want to feel better in that way, you didn’t want to attempt to push aside your emotions for another, you didn’t want to just forget about what you felt. You needed to let out what was overwhelming you. What twisted your gut with anxiety, what made it hard to breathe, what sent your body into overdrive, what clouded your mind and made you feel like a complete mess.
You needed it out, and you knew Astarion wasn’t typically the one to go to with that sort of thing. You never held it against him, you cared for him, you may even love him. But you knew he had little to no experience in the ways of comforting someone. Knew he didn’t really know how to do that. So, in an action you convinced herself was selfless, you didn’t confide in him. Didn’t give him the chance to offer whatever type of comfort he possibly could provide.
And Astarion knew it all and more. With his past, he knew how to read people easily. Learning how others think was vital in his line of work, in his everyday life, in his survival… Reading you always seemed a little bit easier for him to do than it was with others. He could see what you were trying to do. The way your body stiffened on the bed, the tears both dried and fresh on your cheeks, the way your hands clenched as if you wished the ground would swallow you whole.
Astarion didn’t feel any particular way about this revelation. He could see your reasoning, your line of thinking and what brought you to the conclusions you ended up at. So he honestly couldn’t explain why he reacted the way he did.
His hand shuts the door, encompassing you both back into darkness without thought. His feet move toward you on their own. Though the darkness surrounds you both, both of your eyes end up adjusting again. You can see the way Astarion stops at the edge of the bed, his form hovering over your curled frame on the bed.
It’s without a word that he slides into bed behind you, his back resting comfortably against the headboard. His legs spread wide, giving you enough space to sit between them. His hands softly curl around you, not trying to overwhelm you even more. One hand around your stomach, feeling the erratic breaths you take as you attempts to hide your cries. The other hand over your heart, feeling its pounding rhythm, both from the mix of emotions that sent you to this state and from him finding you here. He didn’t need to do this, his hearing being able to pick it up well enough on its own. But for some reason he needed the reassurance. That it was all real.
He pulls you into his chest and you don’t hesitate to fall against him, putting your weight on him. He isn’t doing this to prove anything to you. To prove he can comfort you, if you needed him to. No, he isn’t going to make you come to him and he’s not going to make you hide. He doesn’t know why he’s done this. He just… did. Wanted to. It’s all he can grasp onto.
The feeling of him being there was enough, you realize. It had taken so much energy to try and remain still after Astarion found you, but now that he was here and he’s staying, you can’t hold it in any longer. It physically pained you beyond explanation. Sobs broke out of you, the action moving your body with its force. You couldn’t control it.
Astarion just sits there, not saying anything and not really doing anything either. But it’s more than enough. You didn’t realize how being alone had made everything so much worse. You thought that being alone, having nothing around that could possibly add to your array of emotions was what was best for you. But as you two laid together, you noticed the way Astarion didn’t add anything. The way he could actually help in ways everyone else just couldn’t seem to.
Eventually you begin to calm down, your body shaking but your emotions releasing and leaving you. That’s when you feel Astarion’s hand on the back of your head. You jump slightly, but besides that, you don’t dare acknowledge it. His hand gently starts combing through your hair. Then when he reaches the end, he brings it back to the top of your head. You sigh heavily, falling into him further. The peace of the empty silence, the darkness that covers everything, washes over you both. Neither of you seem to want to break it.
You tilt your head ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t stop. The gesture was doing wonders to help calm you down further. You can barely make out Astarion through the darkness, but you can see enough to tell he’s simply staring ahead. It’s then you realize that he probably hadn’t even noticed what he’s doing to you. How he’s actually comforting you. It sends waves of pleasure through you, working both to overwhelm you a bit more and yet also calming you. You fall back, fully resting on him once again as he, in a way, pets you. Your eyes seemingly closed on their own.
It’s only after an unknown amount of time that he murmurs in your ear, “I’m here.”
1K notes · View notes
cherryandsugar · 1 month
Text
Long Day
Pairing: Astarion x gn!unnamed!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Comfort/No Hurt
WC: 986
Warnings: Set in Act 3 (minor spoilers, seriously so minor), reader is tired
Summary: Reader and their companions return from a long day in the city. Astarion is there to make sure they get the rest they need!
image from @/dailyastarionpics
Tumblr media
The day had been long, so terribly long. It seemed every stranger you passed on the street wanted a piece of you, leaving barely a moment to recuperate. You must have fought off three different groups before finally you, Karlach, Halsin, and Shadowheart trudged your way back to the Elfsong Tavern. The stress and strain of the day seemed to melt off your shoulders as you shrugged off your armor, ignoring it as it clattered to the floor.
Now comfortable in your camp clothes, you made your way from your own bunk to Astarion’s. He was in a state much unlike your own; he was calm… relaxed in the safety of camp, where he had spent the day. His back was turned to you as he carefully cleaned his dagger, armor long forgotten in a pile near his bed.
“You should ask Lae’zel to sharpen that,” you suggested, briefly breaking his focus.
“Hah! No thank you darling, she has enough blades as it is,” he retorted before sheathing the dagger and turning his full attention to you, “Is there something you wanted to talk about my dear?”
You shifted slightly, “Not really, I just… wanted to spend some time with you…”
His gaze softened from playful to affectionate at your admission. “Well, that can certainly be arranged. Come here, darling,” he held his hand out to you and you took it, smiling softly at him as he gently pulled you into his room. He led you to sit on his bed before he briefly turned to retrieve a decanter of water.
“You look tired, love. What happened out there?” his voice was soft, as he urged you to drink.
“It was just a lot of little things,” you sighed before taking a sip. When you were finished he took the glass from you, setting it on his bedside table.
“Nothing too dangerous I hope?” his voice was light and airy, but his eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of his mouth were turned down. He was worried. Trying to not let on to it, but worried all the same.
“No, just a basement full of rats, an angry counselor, and a shapeshifting serial killer,” you recounted, chuckling at the hilarity of your various enemies.
“Oh well if that’s all…” he lilted, before climbing into bed beside you, sitting up against the headboard. He held his arms open expectantly, “Come here, let me hold you, love.”
With a grateful smile, you crawled up to meet him. His hand found your cheek before he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. He sighed sweetly into you before turning your body to lay your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, a comforting pressure that kept you as close as possible. He leaned over your shoulder to plant a gentle kiss to your cheek, somehow softer than the previous one.
You melted into him, relaxing your tense muscles and allowing him to support you. Your hands came up to rest atop his as he lavished you with his attention, kissing down your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, before he finally stopped with a sigh.
“You really should take me with you more often, my love,” he whispered. His cool breath tickled your ear as it danced across your skin. You shuddered ever so slightly at the sensation and felt Astarion smile into your skin.
“You needed a break,” you whispered back.
“And what about you, darling?” he pressed, “When do you get a break?”
You paused for a moment, reflecting on his words. You never did get to take a break, did you? Every morning your ragtag group of companions looked to you for direction. Every day they waited for you to decide who would venture out. Every day they followed you into battle.
You were surprised you hadn’t noticed yourself. There was no formal decision to put you in charge, no team meeting wherein your traveling party appointed you as the leader. It just sort of happened. It was natural. But that also meant that you never really stopped to rest. Everyone else would take turns out in the field, while you pushed ever onward.
After taking a moment to think, your response was tense. Unsure, even.
“I— Well, I suppose I’ll take a break once we’ve gotten these tadpoles out.”
Astarion hummed behind you, his chest rumbled against your back as he contemplated your words. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, and it gave you the somewhat urgent need to fill that silence.
“Don’t worry about me, all we have to do is save the world and then I’ll be able to relax,” you joked, trying to lighten his mood.
He huffed a laugh behind you, but his hesitance to speak was a clear enough message: You shouldn’t push yourself like this.
“It’s hard not to worry when it comes to you,” he admits. His voice is soft, soft enough that a light breeze could carry his words away, but you hear him all the same.
You don’t know what to say in return, so you opt to stay silent. You slouch ever further against him, eyes begging to droop closed. As if he can sense your fatigue, Astarion rubs soothing circles over your stomach.
“Rest now my love, I’ll be here when you wake.”
And rest you did, drifting peacefully into the night while your lover kept watch over your tired form. His embrace never faltered as he gazed lovingly down on you, fast asleep in his arms. Tomorrow, he would have a little chat with your fellow companions about the unfair burden you carried and the weight of your responsibility. But tonight? Tonight he protected your peace. Tonight he admired how smooth your face was as you slept, your usually furrowed brows gone soft. Tonight he was the only guardian you should need in sleep.
~~~
Author’s Note: hi again!!! just a short little drabble that was supposed to go a different way but ended up becoming this. i hope you enjoyed!! and if you did please consider reblogging/leaving a comment, they mean the world to me! criticism is also greatly appreciated. also if you liked this you might like the other astarion piece i’ve written (linked here). if you read this far thank you so much ily and you deserve a lil kiss
424 notes · View notes
thechaoticdruid · 3 months
Text
Astarion x Chubby reader/Tav Headcanons because I'm tired of reading about Tav's perfect petite or hourglass body.
Some of the Headcanons get quite sexual so MDNI 18+ People ONLY. There's also some slight gore and mentions of Astarion's trauma.
Chubby Tav is going to be mentioned to be a Wizard with a noble background because that makes the most sense for a chubby adventurer in my mind!
Tumblr media
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Astarion wasn't really attracted to your body at first.
Not that he found you ugly or anything it's just your physical appearance really wasn't that relevant to his plan.
What mattered to him was how well you carried yourself in a fight and how easy you'd be to string along.
You were a skilled Wizard with a tendency to be mercilessly cruel when you came across the most vile of villains.
Some asshole was murdering children? You cast a spell that caused him to slowly inflate until he exploded into bloody bits.
Some crazy bitch was torturing and using innocents for blood sacrifices? You took control of her own body and made her stab herself over and over.
And Astarion just ate that up.
Not that he cared for the sad pathetic welps in peril mind you.
But the bloodlust in your eyes as you dealt with those you considered unredeemable villains honestly made him feel a bit hot and bothered.
And the sheer magical prowess you displayed was rather impressive.
Plus you didn't bore him half to death with magical lectures like Gale did so that was nice.
As he began pursuing you, your insecurities became rather evident.
You would often dismiss his flirting or straight up ignore it.
Being told you were sexually unappealing all your life had really gotten to you. To the point where you just couldn't wrap your head around someone as beautiful as Astarion coming onto you.
But determined as ever to have you as his protection Astarion persisted.
Perhaps you'd never had a lover or perhaps you'd had far too many whom left you for someone they found more appealing.
Either way you were convinced Astarion's advances meant nothing.
That either he wanted something from you or he was simply mocking you like so many others had done in the past.
So when he finally is blunt enough to say he wants sex with you it's a big shock.
Your first response is to push back.
You tell him to quit messing with you because it was not funny!
He swears to you that his desire to sleep with you is genuine and begins to go so far as to list everything he finds alluring about you.
The taste of your blood.
The way your eyes sparkle when filled with bloodlust.
How gods damned sexy you looked covered in the blood of your foes.
When it was clear that he hadn't made any comments about your figure, you actually began to think perhaps he wasn't making fun of you.
It took some time to think about it, but eventually you decided to accept his offer the night of the tiefling party.
At first you're very hesitant to remove your clothes in fear of him immediately backing out once he was able to fully take in your plump form.
At that point Astarion strips down first and seductively coaxes you out of your clothes.
If you're AFAB he immediately becomes enamoured with your plump breasts, his first instinct is to start sucking on them like his life depends on it as his hands grope and caress the deliciously thick cushy curves of your hips and ass.
If you're AMAB he's a bit more grabby with your ass than anything else. He also makes flirty remarks on how big you are while teasingly grabbing your cock.
Either way on your first night together you let him take the lead, evil voices in your head telling you that if you were on top you'd crush him like some disgusting monstrous beast.
He doesn't press you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable and focuses mostly on your wants and pleasure.
Leaves a trail of kisses and licks all over your body, worshipping every inch of it.
If you express your insecurities with him, claiming you didn't think he'd want you because you were fat he brushes it off.
"Nonsense darling, there's just more of you to nibble on.~"
And he is sure to nibble on every inch of you.
Especially those thick thighs.
He loves drinking from you there before eating you out or sucking you off.
As he begins to develop actual feelings for you he feels the need to comfort you more about your insecurities.
Of course Astarion doesn't quite understand how to do comfort. Not having any of it himself for the past 200 years.
He tries to fix it with sex. Thinking perhaps if you felt desired these pesky insecurities would just go away.
He'd grab your ass and whisper lustful remarks about your body when no one was watching.
Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn't.
Eventually however things became much more complicated once Astarion came to the realization he was falling for you.
He found himself unable to 'perform' any longer. The guilt of manipulating you began to eat away at him.
Not to mention it was becoming harder and harder to come up with an excuse for why he didn't always seem fully present during intimacy with you. You were becoming more and more concerned. Which just made the guilt he felt grow.
You were too good for him!
He just knew you'd be crushed! Finally finding one person who actually desired you, only to discover it was all a lie!
You'd hate him for sure he just knew it!
But he couldn't do it any longer. You were kind to him. You actually cared about him.
And Gods damnit he knew what was like when people only care about your looks more than most.
You deserved better.
So he came clean and poured out his heart to you. Fully prepared for your anger and resentment.
But when it happened you just looked tired.
You confessed that deep down you knew it was all a manipulation.
Gods, the idea that someone as attractive as him would want you for your body was just ridiculous to you.
You really just wanted to pretend for a while.
To feel wanted and desired.
So in a way you used him too.
But then you too began to fall for him as well and began to dread when you'd eventually have to stop playing pretend.
After confession however you'd both agreed to start over, take things at a much slower pace.
And for the most part things were great!
Your late night trysts turned into cuddle sessions.
Astarion particularly loved using you as a pillow and snuggling into the warm, soft, cushion of your body.
If you ever felt the demons of insecurity eating away at you Astarion would immediately insist he didn't care what you looked like. He liked you for you.
Because you're you.
He had a little trouble wording it but it was sweet nonetheless.
When you finally reached Baldur's Gate there were a few hiccups in the road.
You were back amongst society and the eyes of the nobility who were a constant thorn in your side growing up.
Your father, the head of your family was intent on marrying you off to strengthen an alliance between another noble family and your own.
But despite his efforts most of the other patriar families were far too stuck up to accept his offer.
Deaming you as too unappealing to marry.
You didn't have any interest in an arranged marriage anyway, much too invested in your magical studies, but the rude comments from some of the other nobles still stung.
"My child is not being married off to a deep rothé!" One of them had actually said.
Now that you were back home the demons of your past began to plague your mind once again.
Astarion was there for you now however and tried to keep your mind off of things by reminding you that you both had a quest or two to finish!
If anyone were to make a rude comment out on the streets or sneer at you behind your back about how Astarion was way out of your league he would be quick to comfort you.
He'd pull you to the side and plant a wet kiss on your mouth right in front of any possible offenders.
And if any of them were to mysteriously disappear amongst the shadows of the night...
All the better.
546 notes · View notes
lovrspell · 2 months
Text
Reassurance
Pairing: Astarion x Gn!Reader.
Summary: Astarion worries that he's not what's best for you, until you cuddle some common sense in him.
Warnings: Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Paranoia induced thoughts. Fear of abandonment/replacement. Astarion being contradicting. Also him being so sure his partner doesn't see through his facades that it's pathetic (he ain't that slick). Mainly from his pov.
Word count: 1,5k approx.
A/n: this was requested by an anon, enjoy :)
Masterlist.
(Screenshot ↷ by @lovelybluebirdie)
Tumblr media
Astarion has never been the insecure type.
At least, through superficial eyes— therefore, not through your eyes. You have a keen ability to pick up on subtle issues, even when he ‘cleverly’ conceals them with self-irony so rooted and convincing as to assure the other person that the topic discussed doesn't effect him at all.
Well, that's very much not true. Between bitter laughter and snarky comments it is possible to glimpse a veil of glassy sadness to anyone who makes an effort to see it. Sometimes it is more noticeable than others.
However, it never escapes your prying eyes.
Lately, Astarion hasn't been doing well — that much is what everyone can tell. The first alarm bell was a subtle distancing between you two. That's what's best for you, he thought.
You tried to have a conversation with him about it, but he admonished you, saying he wished to not talk about it for now; 'space' is the word he used when you asked him what he needed, which basically meant he doesn't want you to ask about it until he talks to you in that regard.
He hadn't even let you know if you had even the smallest part in his general malaise.
But you know him, you know that when he's ready for a deeper conversation, he will come to you; hence, with a pat on the shoulder and a reassuring kiss on the cheek, you told him that you would provide that space he needs. When he's ready, he can come and talk to you at any time.
There's not an accurate definition of what your relationship has been for those few weeks: you continue to share time together, though not as frequently or in the same manner. In this phase, it's not unusual to be in each other's company in silence, simply doing nothing— a shared sense of comfortable boredom.
Over time, this becomes a more frequent occurrence; even the act of just gazing into nothingness as you do anything beside him, just being together without doing anything in particular, is strangely comforting. It's a new activity, but certainly pleasant. In addition to clarifying many things, this whole event lets you know that there's no need to actively seek out pastimes in order to enjoy each other's presence.
For fear of ruining the image which he claims that you have of him — that confident demeanor and sharp charisma he displays — he hasn't told you about it, but yes, this discomfort of his has origins in issues related to you. So he put up some walls between you — papier-mâché walls, nothing compared to the initial iron barriers you managed to pierce through so delicately.
But still walls.
You didn't do anything to him, that's for sure. In fact, it all lies in the excruciating pain he experiences every time he feels like you have more fun without him.
Well — how can he blame you, after all? He's wounded, scarred for eternity with no sense of what's good and what's bad. No morals. He's bloodthirsty, full of rage and unpredictable and basically a bastard.
He's truly sweet to you and you only, but that doesn't really erase who he really is, doesn't it?
He just can't understand how a man like him can be worthy of love. Your love, in particular.
You adore him so sweetly it melts him. He almost hates the way the tension in his shoulders vanishes when you squeeze his hand or the way the constant crease in between his brows relaxes the moment your eyes meet his.
When you smile at him the rest becomes a distant murmur.
Precisely for this reason it stings him to see you smile so fondly at whoever in camp.
He can't help but ponder if you would've wanted it any other way than what it is right now, with him. Would Halsin or Karlach or Wyll — or anyone for that matter — make you happier and give you more than he gives you?
Does he give you enough? Is that enough what you deserve?
Is he what you deserve?
Maybe it's some lovesick fool's complex.
Usually, being with you manages to silence these thoughts that were eating him up from the inside — everything else is a blur when you're involved. And so when you hug him, when you look at him, when you touch him, he rediscovers your love for his person. But as soon as you leave, the paranoia returns tip-toeing, rising around him like a thick black fog and enveloping him in darkness.
As for you, well... It's obvious this situation has troubled you too. If he's in pain, you're in pain and viceversa. Maybe it's the tadpole playing tricks, but it feels as if you can perfectly sense how he feels regardless of what emotion it is.
Sometimes it's so intense it's almost unsettling.
Anyhow, you tried your best to not show him how much this has effected you — initially, you had thought of the most dire options. But later on you assumed it was something personal he's not ready to discuss yet. Which you weren't completely wrong about.
The more the days pass, however, the harder it becomes to hide how eager you are to know what the problem with him is.
One afternoon you were at the river, spending one of those silent moments together. He had his head resting in your lap and you were doing little braids in his hair. It was almost sunset and the sky was colored with the most beautiful shades of purple and goldish-pink.
“How's it going with that thing that's bothering you?” you ask him at a certain point, smiling candidly.
He's silent for a few moments, then smiles at you lazily.
“It's better.” he looks at you, searching your eyes.
You hum in understandment, fighting the urge to try and ask about it.
It's been a few days by now.
“Astarion, you know that whatever happens you can tell me, right?”
He gives a nod. His calm expression shifts a bit.
“...And you also know that if I had something to do with it you have to tell me, right?”
You catch him hesitate; he glances away.
“Astarion. You can tell me. It's been, what, like nine days? Let's deal with this. I want to help you. And also I can't believe I have absolutely nothing to do with it.”
Astarion licks his lips and shifts in your lap.
For a moment, his face is one of pure determination. He opens his mouth, then hesitates again.
“...It's the stupidest thing in the entire universe.”
You roll your eyes, scoffing. Him, worrying about saying something stupid — very funny.
“Tell me anyway.”
“...It's a concern.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, expectantly. And so he continues,
“Well, I'm... Gods, this is ridiculous,” he trails off, suddenly getting up from your lap. He thinks he sounds like a kid, honestly.
You watch him without saying anything.
There's a long pause, then he inhales from his mouth and speaks slowly.
“...I'm afraid I'm not what you deserve. I wonder if I just... Dragged you in this dark existence of mine. I wonder if you would be happier with someone that has as much life in themselves as you do.”
Another pause, shorter than the last. Then he resumes, lowering his gaze to avoid meeting yours.
“I don't exactly have much to offer right now, beyond new burdens to carry.”
You blink and keep silent for a beat, genuinely unable to tell if he's serious or not.
“Astarion,” you start, grabbing his chin and tilting his head up to make him look at you. His eyebrows are furrowed deeply, lips almost a pout.
“I can handle you. All of you. Give me your worst, give me your best, give me everything. I've seen you in ways no one has ever saw you and I'm still here... So why are you so worried now?”
He doesn't answer.
“...Come here. My Gods, why didn't you tell me that was what was keeping you sulking? We would have solved it right away.”
He follows your request and leans against your chest. You are warm and cozy as usual.
“...Don't be so nice to me. It makes me want to be nice back.” he utters, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, inhaling deeply.
“You're an imbecile sometimes, you know that?” you whisper in his ear, laughing softly. “And by saying 'sometimes' I'm doing you a favor.”
A huff of air tickles your neck as he laughs through his nose.
Only now he realizes that he childishly created this situation for himself.
You want and love him as he is.
And from that moment on, he never forgets that.
872 notes · View notes
spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
Note
I've found a few fics that hc that Astarion purrs when he's happy (Catstarion supremacy lol). Do you think he might if he felt safe enough with Tav?
I am 100% on board with that! I know that bats purr a little bit different from cats but it's not like bats=vampires.
Masterlist
Headcanons
Purring Astarion
Vampires can purr.
They purr when they are safe, happy, and content.
Like cats.
But have you ever seen a happy vampire?
Never. It's as rare as a vampire who can walk in the sunlight.
They suffer. They starve. They hate themselves.
They are tortured. Beaten. Hunted.
They are never safe enough to do so.
Astarion's life used to be hell. There wasn't a single good thing in his pathetic existence.
But he is free now. Cared. Loved.
He can do whatever he wants.
And he isn't alone. He has a person to hold, to talk to, and to share his feelings with.
Who can sit for hours playing with his curls while he trauma-dumps them about the most horrible events of his life.
Astarion learns about new ways of intimacy - bathing together, holding hands, cuddling.
One day, he wakes up after an especially bad nightmare. He doesn't remember what exactly he saw, but it was so unsettling he scratches his skin with his sharp nails.
When you return and see Astarion like that, you place him above you like a weighted blanket.
Pressing his head against your chest and stroking his back.
Your heartbeat and breathing soothe him, and he stops crying.
You lie like that for what seems like an eternity in silence.
He is happy.
At this moment, he realizes that the last six months have become a counterweight to two hundred years of misery.
Astarion relaxes and feels like falling asleep.
You hear a weird sound, as if there was a big cat beside you.
Purring.
You hug Astarion tighter and realize the purring comes from his chest and throat.
He probably isn't even aware of it.
The sound is nice and pleasant, but the very idea is hilarious, and you burst out laughing.
"What - What is this?" Astarion elbows up, staring at you. "Did I do something wrong?"
There is a weird sensation in his throat, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
"You were purring! Like a cat!"
Astarion is shocked.
It's not like he is fond of the idea that his body reacts so openly to feeling good.
(As if having an erection any time you do something playful wasn't enough to embarrass him).
But all his doubts fade into the background as he realizes how much you like it.
It's like having a big cat in your bed who doesn't try to run away if you squeeze it too hard.
And it's a good indication if Astarion really feels good or just pretends.
Sometimes, you think he feels off, only to hear soft purring from his chest.
Sometimes everything is great, but you don't hear this pleasant vibration.
And you also soon realize that if you make Astarion sit between your thighs, his back pressed against your chest, and start playing with his ears and curls, he immediately starts purring.
Safe, loved, protected. Like a happy cat.
Bonus:
You and Astarion have a dhampir-daughter
You two wonder how many vampiric traits your daughter has inherited.
Will she be able to walk on ceilings? Will she have fast regeneration?
You will find it later, but now you have a newborn girl, who isn't really fond of the idea of being pushed into this unpredictable world.
Once you finish the first breastfeeding session, the girl closes her dark eyes…
And start purring like a tiny kitten.
Tag list @tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy
905 notes · View notes
comatosebunny09 · 4 months
Text
Sleeping together is normal.
You’ve shared beds before like this. Slept beneath the stars with nothing but rubble at your feet, and itchy grass at your backs. But tonight is unlike any other night you’ve spent together. It feels different. As if the air is charged with electricity and something heady in between.
In the back of your tangled mind, you knew admitting your secret desires over a harmless game of 21 Questions would pique his interest. Hells, you had prayed it would. Maybe tonight would be the night that he held you a little tighter, kissed that sensitive spot behind your ear, and acted on the subtle hints he tossed your way.
You can dream.
The silence that stretches between you is unnerving.
Your heart pounds in your ears, your fingers aching with the need to touch. Your sleepiness has faded into the background, replaced by anxiety welling in your gut. It would take nothing to lean up onto your elbows, conquer the space between your mouths, and just—
Ugh! What if you’ve misread the room? What if he only sees you as a friend?
Through the dimness blanketing the room, Astarion’s gaze searches through yours. A beautiful maelstrom of emotions swimming beneath them, looking for something. An indication of discomfort. A plea for him to stay. A silent demand for him to piss off. Anything. He doesn’t press, though his head screams for him to weasel a confession out of you.
When you do not speak, a wistful smile rounds Astarion’s lips. Your silence serves as his answer. He lifts himself from your bedside, turning away towards the entryway. Offers a somber goodnight, darling over his shoulder, but—
Your hand encircling his wrist halts his retreat. He’s wide-eyed when he looks back at you, his voice corked in his throat. You tug again, your gaze averted, and the warmth of bashfulness explodes like solar flares beneath your skin.
Look at you, acting all shy as if he hasn’t seen you bleed.
Astarion moves on autopilot, kneeling again beside you, enraptured by your touch. His mouth quivers with a question; brows furrowed with compassion.
Say the word. Say it. Just—
You beat him to the punch. Release his hand, mournful of the loss of his cool veins dancing beneath your fingertips. You peer down at the wrinkled comforter, fiddling with some frayed threads at its corner. Your saliva scorches your throat as you swallow thickly, willing your vocal cords to work.
“You know I’m afraid of the dark,” you rumble, voice rivaled by the soft wind outside.
It isn’t a complete lie. You’ve always squeezed Astarion a little tighter when the candlelight dwindled—curled up into his side with the blanket pulled over your head, succumbing to the security he provided, fearful of the things that went bump in the night. Like he didn’t once live amongst them. 
It clicks in his mind like the hammer of a revolver slamming forward. He tastes the subtle undercurrents of your timbre. Feels relief coating his rib cage at your plea for his company.
Stay.
Astarion snorts. Smiles, something boyish and genuine, the bulk of his hand swallowing up your wrist. He draws your gaze to him, his teeth shining through the muted light.
“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”
His tone is disarming. Causes your shoulders to drop from your ears and your jaws to unclench. A smirk cants the corner of your lips. Though adrenaline flows through your extremities like liquid fire, you entertain his cheekiness.
“Maybe.”
He peels back the comforter before you can react. The bed croaks beneath his weight, and you shimmy towards the wall to allow him space. Your feet brush, the sensation setting your nerves alight. In your peripheral, Astarion grins. A lithe mass of sinewy muscle and protectiveness looming on the opposite side of the bed.
He makes no move to do anything further. Always a gentleman despite your bodies crying out for each other. Despite his fingers twitching in his lap, and the longing coloring your eyes.
Just…fucking touch me already.
Time eases by like this. Astarion beside you, recounting old memories from adventures long ago. And you both laugh a little. Gradually scoot closer until the moon sits high in the sky, and exhaustion clings to the bags beneath your eyes. You use that as an excuse to snuggle up to him. Though you rarely need a reason to. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer, and the comforter up to your chin. He makes you feel safe. He always does. Always has.
Without thinking, you twine your fingers together. Test the waters, searching his eyes for any signs of discomfort. When he doesn’t say anything, you’re emboldened to bring his hand to your lips and you kiss his knuckles. He stiffens, breath hitches, mouth hangs slightly open. Gradually relaxes little by little. Looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s ready to dive off that cliff with you if you’ll allow him to. You try again, your lashes fluttering. The wine’s long settled in your system. It’s all instinct urging you forward now.
He brings your hand to his mouth to pay the same homage. And then he’s kissing up your wrist, forearm, further still…can’t help himself, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Lids shutter while his lips seal to yours in a kiss. Slow at first. Gentle because he doesn’t want to scare you off. But he’s waited so long for this. You both have. So pardon him for being a little overzealous. A little swept up in the moment.
You pull away, intoxicated by his earthy scent and the plushness of his lips. Study him, drunk off the feel of him and the soft breaths fanning across your skin.
You kiss again. A little more confident this time. A little more eager. He cups your jaw. Drags you down onto the bed beneath him, mouth slanting possessively over yours, fangs gnashing against your teeth. It’s like a dream. Your hair puddles around you on the pillow. You’re holding his palms to your cheeks, brows pinched, afraid that if he lets go, the dream will shatter. But you’re not dreaming this time. The hoarse, agonized groan he pushes between your lips is proof of it.
707 notes · View notes
finecole · 3 months
Text
Counterweight
Summary: “One night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”
Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x gn!Tav Reader 
Word count: 700
Warnings: mention of sex (18+), FLUFF, 1d20 psychic damage to my emotional well-being
---
“Well, as you know, I am an avid admirer of the freedom of nature’s gifts’’ Astarion taunts, laying next to you, chest puffed up and voice rumbling as he shoots you a smirk.
A grin spreads on your face, and you swat teasingly at his chest, “oh stop it - will you let it go?” 
You both laugh as you share a look, letting the laughter wane into a shared smile.
You roll over onto his chest, reaching out a hand to tuck back a stray silver curl. Your hand traces his cheek as it retreats, thumb tracing his cheekbone. The warmth that had gathered in his face a mere moment ago as he came undone, panting in the crook of your neck, had started to give in to his usual icy coldness again. As your hand reaches his chin, he captures it swiftly before its escape, placing soft kisses along your knuckles. 
You nuzzle into his chest, closing your eyes, basking in his tender caress. 
The two of you had spent many afternoons laying around like this on a bedroll or bed, whatever option would present itself on the road; limbs entangled and lips peppering kisses as you caught your breaths, or Astarion, head resting against the headboard with you curled up to his side, reading out passages from some trashy Drizzt Do’Urden novel you had found in the shops. 
You would be quite content, you think, to spend many more afternoons like this. 
“My love,” he whispers, tilting his head to the side, sharing the most tender of looks as you meet his gaze. He places your hand that he had been kissing on his chest, where his heart would be, and cups your cheek with the other. He mirrors your own affections, brushing your cheek with his thumb. 
“Hm?’’ a soft smile tugs at your lips, as you consider how the piercing rubies that were his eyes could melt into something so soft and gentle when he was with you. 
He covers your hand that still lays on his chest with his own, giving it a squeeze. “These last six months with you,” he says softly, carefully selecting his words. “These six months that we have shared, have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”
A silence passes.
“Astarion…” your voice is barely a whisper, as the gravity of his words settles in. How all the words, laughter and touches you had shared, the pushing and pulling of figuring out how to be together, how the cumulation of it all could make up for the unimaginable pain that he had had to suffer. You think that right then and there, you could simply melt into his very being, wanting to envelop him whole.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you fear that you could never gather the right words and arrange them in a way that would express how much love for him burned within you at this very moment - not in the way he had just done. So, instead, you pull yourself up to his face, bury a hand in his hair at the back of his neck, and kiss him. Once, twice, until you lose count. A kiss for every word you could not find, some soft and gentle and others desperate between furtive glances through half-lidded eyes. His hands travel across your back and waist, and for a moment you feel like you don't know where the boundaries of your beings lie. 
You pull back at last, though you do not go far, your noses still touching.
“Do you remember my promise?”, you whisper. 
He smiles and nods, “you will kiss me under the sun again.” 
His hand returns to cup your cheek, swiping away the tear that had threatened to spill before.
You lean into his touch, making a pledge with a smile, “I’ll fight the gods for that if I have to, you know.”
You know he does not lie when he speaks, “I’ll be right there with you, my love.”
---
Note: I've just had this in my head ever since the epilogue launched because OH MY GOD i do not even have the words Tav is quite literally just me in this because what do you say to that??? Its just such a poignant declaration; for Tav to represent so much love and joy to him i just esahjfajksdhjfkah. I haven't written anything in years but here I am, the elf has drawn me out of my slumber. It's also 5 am so apologies for mistakes I may or may not correct them
621 notes · View notes