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#tav fanfics
xemdead · 5 months
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Astarion probably isn’t used to aftercare with all his trauma regarding sex / intimacy.
So imagine after the first time with you, almost immediately after you both finish, he gets up to re-dress. He expects you to do the same and leave, just like everyone has before you. But instead, you tug him back down into your warm embrace. He’s frozen, unsure what you’re doing but he likes the way you play with his hair. It slows down his erratic post coital heart, as his head relocates to your chest. Astarion comes to the realisation that he’s never actually taken a moment after sex to calm his body down before. It’s nice. You stay like this together for a while, relaxing after all the physical movement from earlier.
‘You okay?’ You mumble to him in a tired haze, ‘Did it feel good? You want some water?’ You begin to sit up, disrupting his position on your chest. For once he doesn’t reply, no flirty quips ready on his tongue. Astarion finds himself half shocked, half in awe that you care how he feels and what he felt like during the act. No one’s ever asked him that before.
You leave the bed briefly to the bathroom and return with a washcloth. You wipe yourself off then gesture towards Astarion, ‘Is it okay for me to clean you?’ You say softly, asking his consent.
He coughs, clearing his throat, ‘Of course,darling,’ he says, clearly covering up his confusion and rising nerves. ‘Are you okay?’ You ask again, repeating the question from earlier.
‘Yes, my love, I’m fine... it’s just no one’s ever done this to me before,’ he states gesturing down to where you carefully wipe his inner thighs. ‘Oh!’ You stutter ‘I can stop if your not comfortable with it—’. ‘I love it.’ he states, cutting you off. Eyes staring warmly into your own.
After this scenario happens I feel like Astarion will make the extra effort to learn proper aftercare for you, he begins to realise how important it is to check in after sex, he never wants you to feel used like he did in the past.
(Notes: sorry this is pure Astarion brainrot. Not proofread/edited. This man has crawled his way into my heart)
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frantic-fiction · 4 months
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Tease 18+
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(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)
Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav
Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Semi-public sex, caught in the act?
Word Count: 3.2k
Mastarlist
Standing in front of the mirror, you pull at the dark green fabric, tugging it down this way and that. You try again to tie the corset but give up quickly. You swing your hips, and the flowy skirt swishes, tickling the skin above your knees. Looking yourself up and down, you zone in on your hips, squirming at the fabric extenuating your curves. So much skin on display makes you want to steal someone's spare cloak to hide in. You weren't one to be self-conscious, but you're used to donning armor and leather, not this scrap of fabric Karlach had convinced you to buy. 
You should just change. Grab some leggings and one of Astarion's shirts, and call it a night. You didn't need a dress to catch his eye; you know how Astarion feels about you; wearing a dress won't change that. Backing away from the mirror, you're just about to rip the dress off when Karlach bursts into the room, Shadowheart following behind her at a much tamer pace. 
"Soldier!" Karlach squeals, stopping suddenly in the middle of the room. She slaps her hands on either side of her face. "You. Are. Gorgeous!" Your face burns as Karlach pounces on you, spinning you around to give her the best view from every angle. Heat creeps up your chest and you giggle awkwardly.
"She's right, you look stunning," Shadowheart smirked and added, "Ten gold Astarion won't be able to keep it in his pants."
"20, he won't make it to a room," Karlach shouts.
"Gods! You both are ridiculous." You squeal, swatting Karlach's hands away and stepping back from her excitement. You huff and fix your skirt. Crossing your hands over your chests, you glare at the girls before timidly looking off to the side. "So, I don't look silly?" The hesitation is evident.
"All joking aside, I assure you, soldier, you are beautiful. And I know for a fact Fangs won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."
You beam under Karlach's compliment, doing a few excited calf raises because you have no idea how else to handle her words. Shadowheart moves towards you and fixes a fallen strand of hair. She gives you a soft smile and moves to finish lacing your corset, patting your arm when she’s done.
"Now we should go. The others are waiting downstairs," Shadowheart motions everyone to the door, letting you take a moment to slip your shoes on. 
After months of endless travels and brutal battles, the party decided to take the evening to drink, relax, and enjoy each other's company. A night to forget the tadpoles and the Absolute. All except Lae'zel, who scoffed at the idea, were joining in on the fun.
Descending the stairs, you slammed with the melody of lively tunes played by a band of minstrels, competing with the animated conversations of patrons. The music, infused with the spirit of celebration, is so loud that it vibrates through the wooden beams of the tavern. The dance floor is alive with energetic movements as couples twirl and spin to the rhythm and the joyous laughter of those lost in the moment.
The bar is surrounded by a sea of drunk patrons clamoring for attention. Tankards slammed onto the worn surface as the bartender poured frothy ale and mead expertly. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps casts a warm glow on the diverse crowd. The unmistakable odors of stale ale, greasy food, and the tang of sweat intermingle in the air, creating a distinctive nostalgic and pungent aroma. You're lost in the crowd's movement, overwhelmed with the sounds. You grab onto Shadowheart's elbow like a lifeline.
"Karlach!" Wyll calls and you all snap your head to the side. The party had claimed a booth, and Gale and Wyll were standing up, waving their arms over their heads. They looked like they started early on the drinking; both men's faces were flush, and they each held an easy, dopey grin.
"Wyll!" Karlach linked her arms with yours and Shadowheart's and approached the table. You let her pull you, too busy searching for him. Astarion is slow to stand, but you know the moment he sets his eyes on you. You watch the subtle change in his body language. His hand tightened around the goblet; the exaggerated inhale of air as if someone had kicked him, watching the hunger grow in his eyes.
Now, you feel the confidence bloom in your chest. The dress no longer makes you squirm in discomfort; no, it gives you power and makes you feel desired and sexy. The flame ignites low in your abdomen. Suddenly, you were playing with fire and excited to get burned. A smug smile stretches your lips the closer you get. Pulling away from Karlach, you move and hook your arms around Astarion's neck. You pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek.
"Hi, handsome," you smile up at him, feeling his hand caress the small of your back. Cold fingers playing at the edge of the corset.
"Hello darling, you look breathtaking." He pushes you back gently, giving him space to take in your attire. "Turn for me, my love. Let me look upon the goddess before me."
You roll your eyes at his cheesiness but oblige his request, spinning slowly to allow Astarion to take in every angle. When you come full circle, Astarion captures your lips, and you fall against his chest. His lips meld against yours in a sensual kiss that was entirely inappropriate for the amount of people around, but neither of you seemed to care. Humming against his mouth, you cup his jaw and pull his face away. Astarion chases your lips and lets out a low groan when you deny him what he wants.  
You give Astarion a mischievous grin, patting his chest when you ask. "Do you mind getting me a drink?" 
He gives you a pointed look, visibly dissatisfied with his kiss. With one look and your hand running up his chest and over his shoulder, Astarion caves with a huff. "Yes, of course. Would you like your usual?"
"Yes, please." You say pecking his lips a final time before joining your friends in the booth. 
Wyll was regaling the table with a tale of his early days as the Blade of Frontiers when Astarion slides in beside you. He sets your drink down, and you whisper your thanks before taking a sip and focusing back on Wyll. Gale is quick to call out Wyll's bullshit, Shadowheart pointing out the exaggeration the warlock had blended into his story. It soon devolved into a bickering match as Wyll tried to defend himself. You chuckle between sips of wine, leaning into Astarion, setting your head gently against his shoulder. His hand had found your bare thigh, fingers kneading the supple flesh. 
Suddenly, your friends become background noise as your senses hone in on Astarion. The cheeky smirk that stretches his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing as Astarion inches his smooth hand further under your dress—never crossing the line but far enough to make you clench your legs together in need. You bite your lip, cheeks burning from more than the alcohol, and reach down to take his hand in yours. 
"I know what you're doing,"
"Oh, and what is that, my dear?" Astarion grins, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. He leans to your ear, "Do you not want me to touch you?" His breath cascades over your neck, and a shiver runs up your spine.
"Not when you're trying to tease me in public."
"My sweet girl, I'm not the one being a tease."
"Soldier! Stop making goo-goo eyes at Fangs, and come dance with me!" Karlach yells across the table, breaking whatever spell Astarion had you under. Pulling away, you look up to see Karlach jumping up and down, hand outstretched for you to take. 
"You know I won't say no to dancing." Astarion reluctantly moves to let you out of the booth. Karlach is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the stage. 
The time is lost in the beat of the drums and the flow of your hips. Karlach twirls you around, and you can't stop giggling. Wyll joins in the fun, and suddenly, the crowd has formed a unified line dance. It's messy, and you don't know the steps, but you watch Wyll and poke fun at Karlach's improvised moves. You dance until your breath is ragged and your feet start hurting. Moving your body until the sea of people starts to drown you. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through your veins or the excitement of the dancing. Still, the fun quickly turns to overstimulation that blankets you in thick sheets. In an instant, the room is too hot and too loud, and if you don't get out now, you just might scream.
You leave Karlach and move towards the door outside to the back alley. Pushing it open, you stumble over the threshold and inhale the cold night air. It instantly sobers, clearing your mind and easing your panic. You stare up at the starry sky, soaking in the bright moon. Goosebumps spread over your exposed arms and legs, and you shiver. It doesn't stop you from stepping further into the alleyway as you breathe and allow your heart to settle its pounding. You can still hear the muffled music and thumping feet. 
You hear the door open again but pay it no mind until Astarion speaks, "There you are, my sweet."
You turn on your heel and give him a soft smile. He glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being standing before you, his face partially cast in shadow, staring at you with hunger. "I needed some air."
"I'm sure you did," Astarion smirks, stepping closer toward you. A predator stalks up to its prey. "All that dancing you were doing must have been exhausting."
"It was, but it was so fun." You reach out instinctually, wrapping your arms around his neck. Astarion smoothes his hands down your spine to the swell of your butt, moving to squeeze the soft, plump flesh. "You should join me next time." You squeak at his grip, pressing yourself closer to him.
Then his lips are on yours, and your back is digging into the rough brick of the alleyway. Astarion's tongue is in your mouth, and you're moaning, gripping his shoulders to find purchase. One of his fangs nipped your bottom lip, and your knees practically buckled under you. You would have fallen if Astarion hadn't pressed you against the wall. 
"I think I just might take you dancing tomorrow." His cold hands caress your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, pushing up the fabric of your dress with it. "I'll buy you a pretty new dress to add to your growing collection, and I'll have you move your body for me like you've been doing all night." 
He rolls his hips into yours, and you cry into his neck, kissing his skin to muffle your noises. "Swaying those hips in this tight little thing. Gods darling, I've been hard all night, and it's entirely your fault, you naughty little minx."
"Astarion," You sigh, relishing the friction of his hard cock against your clothed core. 
"Such a cruel woman, dangling a feast over a starving man. I'll have to punish you for that." Astarion purrs, running his nose along the line of your jaw, stopping to bite at his favorite spot; his fangs puncture the surface just enough to have droplets of your blood trickle out.
His tongue lavishes over your skin, making sure not a drop escapes. The moan that rumbles through his chest is purely animalistic, and a rush of heat gushes between your legs. "But right now, my naughty girl, I'm going to fuck you here against this wall." 
You let out a whimper, hips bucking instinctually, heat coiling in your lower stomach. "Please.." 
Astarion takes no time to push your underwear aside and push two of his fingers into your folds with a lewd, wet sound. Astarion begins to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, with each stroke curling up just slightly. The rough pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and applying pressure, he circles the nub in time with his fingers. 
"You're already so drenched, always so ready for me." You pull his face in and sigh into his mouth, niping his lip playfully. Threading your hand through his soft curls, you give a soft tug, relishing in the grunt Astarion gives you. 
You're painfully aware of your surroundings and know that someone could step out and catch the two of you any moment. The thought gives you a jolt of excitement you'll have to think about later. There is no room to take your time, so you tug harder on Astarion's hair loss, pulling his lips from the flesh of your neck he was playing with.
"Star," You roll your hips against his hand impatiently. "I need you to fuck me already,"
"So impatient, but you are right. This is not the time to play." Astarion tsk before unceremoniously ripping your underwear off and stuffing them in his pocket. 
"I liked those."
"I'll buy you a new pair, maybe one to match your new dress." Astarion peppers kiss down your neck. Your hands move to pull his pants down, freeing his cock. It's red and looks painfully swollen. Astarion hisses through his teeth when you give the base of his cock a tight squeeze. 
"I want one that matches the new dress and the same ones you just ripped." You countered, giving him a few languid strokes using his precum as a lubricant. 
"Whatever you want, my love." He says mindlessly, taking you into another breathtaking kiss.
Astarion hands leave your cunt, and a whine leaves your lips. He kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. Astarion pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Astarion sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escapes from both of your mouths. There is no build-up, no room to catch your breath. Astarion quickly pulls out and slams back into you—your back scraps against the bricks, and your foot slips on the cobblestone.
You yelp scrambling to hold on and not fall pathetically onto the dirty alley floor. Astarion, without skipping a beat, scoops you up fully in his arms. All you can do is wrap your legs around his hips and hold on as he pounds into your dripping cunt. 
"Gods, you're perfect," Astarion signs into your neck. He pulls at your dress, moving the corset just enough to expose one of your breasts. He bends his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You choke on a gasp; cupping the back of his head, you press him further against you. 
"Astarion," you moan, carding your fingers into his curls. Rolling your hips, you match his thrusts. Your lower stomach tightens, and you will not last much longer. Not with him pulling you apart in the way only he can. You tried to say as much, but you choke on a sob when Astarion's fingers find your clit. 
He grinds your hips into the brick wall and brutalizes your clit with tight circles. His voice is raspy in your ears. "I'm close, love…ngh - gods, you feel so good."
"A-astarion, please!" Tears bead down your cheeks, pleasure overwhelming your senses. Your muscles are tightening. Your legs quake, and you clench tightly around him. 
"That’s it, come for me, beautiful." And that is all you need to see stars, opening your mouth in a silent cry. Ecstasy courses through your veins, and you bite down on his collarbone to ground yourself in your pleasure. His hips stutter, pace faltering as he loses himself in your body, spilling his seed deep into you. 
Neither of you moves; the brick is now uncomfortably digging into your back, but you can't find the energy to care. Astarion peppers kiss up and down your neck. You scratch his scalp softly and catch your breath. It’s nice.
"I guess I should wear more dresses."
"My dear, you could wear a burlap sack, and I would have still taken you against this wall."
"Horny bastard." 
The two of you were too caught up in each other to notice the tavern door opening again. Nor did either of you notice two figures stepping out. At least not until Karlach's loud cackle echoed down the alleyway. You whip your head in her direction, Astarion following suit. Karlach is hunched over and on her knees, shoulders shaking with laughter. Shadowheart stands beside her, arms crossed with disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.
Astarion is quick to turn you away, shielding you with his body. He let’s you go and you scramble to cover yourself. He helps you fix your dress. Great. 
"What did I tell you? Fangs couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to find a room!" Karlach booms, slapping Shadowheart on the arm. "Hand it over," her palm extended in wait. You hide your face in Astarion's neck, face burning in embarrassment. 
Shadowheart mumbled something under her breath, digging in her pocket for her gold pouch. "Here," the gold is slapped into the tieflings palm. She turns to the two of you. "Find a different cleric to cure whatever disease you've contracted in this filthy alley." Shadowheart quickly turns back into the tavern, the door slamming behind her. 
"Well, thanks for the gold," The tiefling beams and skips after Shadowheart, leaving you and Astarion alone once more. 
You refuse to leave the space between Astarion's jaw and collarbone. Thoughts of packing your stuff and running to Candlekeep are crossing your mind. Karlach and Shadowheart are already telling Wyll and Gale about your exploits, and you don't want to handle the smug looks. 
Astarion's chest rumbles with silent laughter, and you're pulled from your escape plans. You emerge from your safe space and glare up at the man. "What's so funny?!" 
He laughs harder, and runs his thumb over your pout, cupping your jaw. You hold firm in your annoyance and turn your head. "Karlach is telling all of our friends that we just fucked in a dirty back alley, why would you be laughing?" You snap.
"You would think at this point Shadowheart would stop betting on our love life. Tsk, all the gold she's lost." You narrow your eyes at him. His playful smirk widens. "She and the other weirdos should know how shamelessly I want you. They were lucky I didn't fuck you on the table." 
Rolling your eyes, you shove him hard, forcing Astarion to stumble back. Moving past you storm towards the door; he's laughing and calling your name. Astarion, only get your middle finger before the tavern door closes behind you.
Astarion is a cheeky shit. I love him.... Let me know what ya thought, i love your feedback.
Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna
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dancingbirdie · 8 months
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The pale elf has ruined my life
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tragedybunny · 7 months
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Hot Take
Honestly I think if Astarion were in a relationship with a good aligned Tav he'd hate Halsin.
I don't think it's lost on Astarion that he's short tempered and selfish. And the person he cares the most for is entirely different. But they care for him and seem to overlook the worst parts of him, even if he doesn't want to save orphans or whatever.
But then here's Halsin, who despite his own trauma, is still a good person. He's kind and genial and he's out here trying to do the right thing.
And to top it all off, he wants to have sex with Tav. Sex, the one thing Astarion should be good at, the one thing he should be able to provide to Tav. He's not a good or nice person, he's a pile of burdens, in his own mind, but he should be able to give them sex. But he can't.
And now Halsin, who is the kind of person Astarion isn't, is trying to give his partner the only thing Astarion sees himself as being good at. What does he have left to give to Tav? How can Astarion hope to keep them in his life?
Fair or not, I think he'd hate him for it.
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barbiewritesstuff · 1 month
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Astarion who likes you immediately but keeps being mean to you, because if he's mean, you won't like him back. And if you don't like him back, then you won't follow him and if you don't follow him, you don't die
Astarion who is so touch starved he shudders when you pat him on the arm after battle
Astarion who takes any armour you give him as a sign that you value him, that you like him, that you want him alive
Astarion who learns how to make everyone's breakfasts after a while because it's the first time he has friends and he wants them to keep liking him
Astarion who guards you with your life that first night, when it's just you two, before you meet anyone else. He's trying to tell himself it's because you're his ticket to salvation but really, it's because you're the first person of sort-of authority that trusts him without question.
Astarion who's afraid to ask to drink your blood because he thinks you don't actually want it to happen, only to be surprised every morning when you tell him he can.
Astarion who learns to love all over again, both romantically and not
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riseatlantisss · 8 months
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The end we start from
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3
Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.
TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood
A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.
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Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.
Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.
You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.
Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.
“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”
You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”
“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”
You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.
“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.
“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.
“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”
Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.
“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”
His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.
“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.
“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.
Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.
He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.
But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.
Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.
He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.
You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.
He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.
You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.
Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.
Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.
Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.
“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.
He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”
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littlejuicebox · 4 months
Text
You'll stay still, won't you, little love?
Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav
Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex
Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much
Word Count: 2.2K
A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀
-----
You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.
When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction. 
Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give. 
For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.
“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.
“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.” 
He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this. 
“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.
You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.
“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers. 
“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.” 
Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight. 
“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.
“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent. 
“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.
“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.
Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”
You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.” 
“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”
You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.
“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”
Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”
“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.
“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.
He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.
His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself. 
In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.
“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.
“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.
Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.
You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth. 
You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.
“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.
You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.
His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.
“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.
You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.” 
And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.
Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.
Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.
“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.
“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.
As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.
He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.
Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.
“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.
“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”
“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.” 
He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.
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lovrspell · 3 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.
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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.
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elvirable · 9 months
Text
Instincts
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[ Astarion x f!Reader/Tav ] | ao3 link
rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: complete themes/tags: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light angst at the end, you know the sex scene after the tiefling party?, yeah so this is it, with astarions pov, already catching feelings smh, smut is halfway through, just skip to after all early dialogue
----------------------------------------------------
Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his simple plan crumbling apart.
In other words: Astarion has been struggling to balance century-long instincts with newfound feelings, an undeniable connection. He carries out his simple little plan as intended, but meets complications he didn't quite expect. ----------- A/N: so i hung up my cod medals of honor to write this.. i've been playing for a month now. originally posted without proofreading, but its now edited for grammar and some terms -----
It was hard not to have fun around you.
Something of a child-like giddiness would buzz through his nerves whenever you sauntered over, his marbled red eyes wouldn't dare to miss a beat of the vision you were. Swaying hips and that deceivingly coy face. Of course, you were strikingly beautiful – a wickedly delectable sight – but that wasn’t the only source of his carnal anticipation.
It was just you, the enigmatic little thing you were. 
Admittedly, Astarion believed he had read you like an open book the moment he laid eyes on you. It was an instinct of his: gathering a cerebral repository of notable ticks and body language, facial twitches, and octave changes in those around him. Watchful, constant observations.
He had chalked you up to a sort of stoic character at first. Graceful, to a degree, in your manner of subtly balancing the world around you. A stable composure, quick and quiet without brash or idle chatter.. unlike that Gale. You were a less flagrantly repulsive hero-type crafted in his mind – but he had still expected you to be oh-so predictable with a shallow drive for self-emaciating ‘justice’. Whereas the others wore their baggage like a garment, you held your cards close to your chest – like a chameleon suddenly thrust into the spotlight.
Yet the sun rose and fell two or three times around the wilderness of Elturel, when he found himself pleasantly contradicted. He normally didn’t dedicate much attention towards someone he believed he so easily pegged, but his interest began to pique. Just enough to leave him sitting with an edge and a consuming desire to peer in closer. 
Maybe it was the way your mouth twitched into a quiet smile during his verbal antics on the road or the firm passiveness you held from the blighted village to the drama of Emerald Grove; an intoxicatingly confusing blend of traits you harbored. The closer he watched you, the less blurred you became. You didn’t fear being authentic and enforcing boundaries to those who attempted to use you – but you weren’t cruel; you met the world around you just as it was, without discrimination. No unnecessary harm, no free handouts either. 
Or perhaps it was your sarcastic remarks that stirred what little glee he had in him; an especially delicious and refreshing insight into your humor. While he could care to give a critical note or two on your lack of blatant cruelty, Astarion respected your compelling demeanor; he witnessed how all these companions turned their eyes so frequently to you with decision.
But what he did know for sure was the eye contact.
Gods, the first time your heads swiveled mid-strife and your gazes locked with a rich crackle – the memory alone was enough to stupefy him! Something strange stirred, something that didn’t sit comfortably. He didn’t know  what to make of it.
With all this said, that same sensation boiled inside his stomach as he mulled over his every interaction with you. He recalled that moment of midnight – when all was still and you had caught him prepared to taste your throat. Your wary stare pierced through him, washing away briefly the desperate pangs of blood-thirst and left him feeling.. nervous. 
Ugh, how he despised the feeling. 
He was sickened when all those ledgers of observations caved in on himself, caught in his pale throat. He had taken such an overwhelming liking to you – to the extent, he had realized, that he was drawn to your guidance, your approval; a repulsive frustration at the time enough to coil through his cold veins. Without much to say, however, he was adamantly relieved when you conceded and soon regularly allowed him to drink from your slender neck. 
His trail of thoughts glossed over your stifled grunts onto the following morning: when you came to his defense as everyone felt the need to chime in with their unfettered prejudices. And how his ease, his excitement around you became persistently potent – a fresh energy that filled him as you spurred on his teasings and whims. Astarion noticed your subtle release of your ever-strong walls, just enough so he could relish in your humor and affable side.
There was always a hesitation at doting on the sensation that rose inside him at these thoughts of you. He surmised he was merely back in the practice; where he spun honeyed words and charmingly guile eye contact, to wrap his target around his finger. Any little edge of control he could grasp onto, the familiar taste of influence he used to know so well. These habits of two hundred years were kicking in. He’d play the part and – sooner or later – this eagerness to please would be reversed onto you.
Whether it was his own willful denial or the culmination of fate’s ever-spinning thread, the first crumble began the night of the tiefling party.
.
Cool and clear was the star-freckled night. Everything was too merry for him: the wide-toothed grins of the tieflings, sharp strums of the lute, the chatter. Even the wine was downright awful, pungent and tart like vinegar. 
Astarion would’ve normally indulged in his bitter mood, but it was the sight of your drunken smile that diffused his prior desire to complain.
How interesting, he thought as his eyes lapped up your squinted grin and eased laughter. It was helplessly infectious to see you so earnest, casually prattling on in conversation throughout the camp. 
Red eyes followed while you made your rounds, encouraging the tiefling’s dancing lights spell and conversing with the bard. Astarion even raised a brow at the playful expression that washed over your face as you spoke to the hulking druid by the name of Halsin.  When you strolled over to Shadowheart and he caught that carefully provocative glint in the raven-haired cleric’s eyes – a chord of jealousy grew taut inside his chest.
He had half the mind to feel insulted that you hadn’t wandered in his direction yet, but that was quickly dispersed when he noticed you dismiss yourself and head towards a wooden crate near the riverfront. 
Almost like a shadow, Astarion swept in your direction. Whether it was to merely take in your smile up close or to put his plan in motion, he settled on the latter. You were rifling through the crate that held what could barely pass as wine, muttering a quiet curse about the little tiefling probably pocketing a bottle or two.
“Here’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed,” the words dripped from his mouth with a sweet cadence. “You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”
You swiveled at the sound of his voice, raised brow accompanying your hazy smile. The influence of wine lowered your usual wariness, and he caught the realization flutter across your face; there was no constitution in attempting to act reserved, especially with the rapport you two had grown. Amusement was written all over your face, hardly concealed – you had decided to play along.
“A little treat? You can do better than that.” 
“Oh, I certainly can. It would be my pleasure.”
He leaned closer, half-lidded eyes darkening and breath heavy with a mischievous delight. You watched him expectantly, reveling in what would pour from his lips.
“How about this one,” he loosened his posture, as if you both were stowed away from the entire world instead of dawdling along the outskirts of the shoddy camp. “All these accolades from the tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”
Astarion watched the smile further spread across your soft lips, the wickedly sweet crinkle in your eyes while you crossed your arms. An exhilaration rose underneath his suave demeanor, even the bemused snicker invigorating.
“Is that the best you can do?” came your quick quip.
“Hmm, let me give it another go,” his voice was thick with arousal, a hungry glint in his eyes. “Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation – it’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.” 
His words clung to the air for a moment. The deliberate onslaught of poetic pleasantries laced with such ardent lust, the hum of the wine – Astarion studied your face swirling in thought. Heat had built up from the lower half of your body up to your cheeks, a quiet neediness wavering in your stance and threatened to boil to the surface of your skin.
Gods, you were thinking, it had been the longest time and you’ve been touch-starved.. more so under the urgency of all the trouble you had been thrust into. You never trusted a pretty boy, but you'd be damned if his flowered prose didn't stir something in you; you had never been the subject of such pursuits, real or not. Desire rushed through you, coiling in your stomach.
There was a beckoning in his eyes as they clutched onto yours, imporing you to draw closer, and his boyish features were even more alluring when caressed by the moon’s glow. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust those flowery words. They were tinted with an air of rehearse.
“Did these really work on Cazador���s targets?”
“Well, they’re working on you, aren’t they?”
A mild bashfulness buzzed through the warmth on your cheeks, as you couldn’t really deny it. 
“How about if I said these little words… everyone’s favorite,” Astarion continued, pausing for effect.
“I love you.”
Sly amusement colored his face. He had succeeded in riling up the intrinsic urge, no matter how much you tried to conceal it. How adorable you were when your gaze fluttered briefly.
“Having fun, are you?” you observed, smile holding on your lips.
As he had mused earlier, he was. It was hard not to whenever around you.  
.
Festivities settled down, the entire camp fast asleep once the wine crate had emptied and bellies were full. Only the chittering of crickets could be heard amongst the trees.
The forest, usually dressed in potent darkness, stilled beneath the moonlight. A serene, subtle beauty of the night – one Astarion was very accustomed to knowing, to living . He had done this so many times it had become second nature – the salacious rendezvous, the secrecy and fleeting thrill of them all. 
He had contemplated before, the image of you melting in the throes of pleasure. He wondered whether you preferred his hands gentle or rough, what sounds would dribble from your lips – if they sounded as sweet as you tasted. 
Though nothing could prepare him for the reality, which far surpassed fantasy; the pretty little thing you were, bare figure caressed by the lowlight, slowly making your way towards him.
“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”
You offered him a coy smile, cheeks still warm and rosy. An ache rushed between your legs at the sight of him sauntering forward, his well-formed broad physique. Lean, yet muscular – and the soft details of his appearance; the crease of laughter lines, the curl of his lashes. Just the anticipation of it all served enough to make you wet.
“Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he leaned closer, desire coating every syllable.
“You don’t have me yet,” you matched the pulse of his words, emanating a playfulness to goad him on further.
Greedy lips suddenly met yours, and you were pressed against the tree trunk. His palms gripped the back of your thighs, swift dexterity almost catching you off guard. You instantly melted, like a puddle, in his grasp; your soft lips just as eager, skin aching and impatient for his touch. You never realized how sensitive you were, how truly touch-starved until you fought the gasp that escaped your throat.
Astarion didn’t waste a beat, carefully laying you onto the grass below while he drawled slow kisses along the curve of your neck. Fervent yearning permeated from your skin; you wanted more, and he was prepared to give you everything .
He drank in the sight of your arousal, eager to please you yet potently roused from the position he was in: you were such a delectably pretty thing sprawled beneath his weight, completely bare and vulnerable. Wide eyes bashfully beckoning him to just taste you.
“Part those precious legs for me, beautiful.” He directed, his voice less of a growl this time – instead more sweet. Soft. 
You could feel your face heat up further at his words, following his command without hesitation. Tender hands trailed along the soft skin of your thigh, his intense eyes briefly leaving yours to watch his fingers lingered over your folds – you were glistening with slick , fevered arousal.
“Oh my, you’re already so wet for me.”
His voice was almost a whisper now, as a keen excitement rushed through his veins. A twitch pressed against his briefs, his cock already hard and eager especially when his eyes darted towards your rosy. So willing, ready to indulge his every whim. For a moment, he settled in your vulnerability – a sight he didn't expect to see. You were always full of such delicious surprises.
He shook the thought from his mind, allowing a sly smile to return to his lips.
“Who knew you were so needy?”
Your cheeks flushed, timid lips scrambling to form a defensive retort before he slipped two fingers inside. Only a quiet gasp left your mouth as your soaking warmth struggled to adjust, tightening around his digits. You were barely able to comprehend the words he said, instinctively bucking your hips.
“ Astar ..” your breath hitched before you could even finish, when his fingers began a slow pace. Teasingly slow, you would beckon, but there was nothing you could even fathom whispering anymore. Your walls began to clench, eager to receive his unwavering attention.
Hums of pleasure pulsed through your every nerve, rapidly as he fastened the curling pace of his fingers. Every hitched and quiet whimper encouraged him, his palm soaked with your slick. He relished the sight of your round breasts rising and falling feverishly, your heat clenched around him – his cock further hardened, precum no doubt pooling on the fabric of his briefs. 
All you could manage was to focus on the pleasure mounting between your legs, thighs now quivering with anticipation. His thumb slid up to your swollen clit, never breaking pace, to draw teasingly slow circles. He adjusted his weight to lean closer to your face, the sudden attention causing an overwhelming shyness to press your eyes shut. Your thighs trembled more now while his fingers beckoned and lured your pleasure to spur closer and closer.
“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice the gentlest you’ve ever heard. 
He couldn’t place the sensation – of feeling entranced in a sense, when whimpers of pleasure fumbled from your beautiful lips. Astarion almost felt lost, nearly mesmerized, when you kept those pretty eyes trained on his. He could feel his eyes soften at your vulnerable stare, and all at once everything inside him craved to slide into your warmth. To feel you melt into him, to hit every right spot to make you sing, for every sweet prayer cascading from your lips to be for him.
“Mmf..” You were left in a sudden foggy haze, a mix of pleasure and confusion when he abruptly withdrew his fingers. You couldn’t fathom any words to speak, only furrowed your brows in a hazed and disorientated manner.
“I’m sorry, love.” His breathless laugh seemed dazed before the low, heaviness returned to his tone, “You were practically just begging with those lovely eyes of yours.”
He leaned downwards to plant soft, reassuringly delicate pecks across the nape of your neck; each a mantra to affection, leaving a buzz in their wake. Carefully he peeled down his briefs with a wasted moment to rub his eager cock against your slick warmth.
Your moans sounded even sweeter closer to his ear, and a delighted sigh pressed from his lips onto your skin. His throbbing cock was met with some resistance as the length and girth was suffocated by your tightening walls, warm spasms at the sensation being filled. 
A guttural, low moan hummed from his throat. Fuck, you were so perfectly tight.
His cock pulsed at the sudden attention, aching with pleasure and a warm buzz radiating through his skin. He paused for a moment, needing to relish every second it felt to be now pressed so deep inside you. The softness of your skin, delicate cues of pleasure washing over your face, how your warm walls enveloped his cock.
You moaned as he pushed more of his length inside your needy warmth, tears beginning to well up in the corner of your eyes. Pleasure and slight pain blurred, the tip of his cock almost pressed against your soft cervix and a rouse of heat traveling up your spine. 
His hands gripped the globes of your ass to adjust his leverage, slowly but deliberately digging his hips against yours with each thrust. His body was achingly ready, alive with frantic urge. He was incapable of any pretty words to whisper, tangled groans replacing his usual velvet tongue.
As he pounded quicker into your warmth, your pulsating soft walls sucked his cock tighter and deeper with each buckle. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck. Sweat formed on his pale forehead as he wrestled with his restraint, his cock stroking in and out, hitting pleasure points you never knew existed and relishing in your shameless cries – desperate for him.
Soft, warm pleasure unraveled across you in hot waves. If you had the mind, you could only hope that no one could hear you two – the sounds and wet smacks of his skin colliding against yours – but all you could do was turn your pleasured cries and whimpers into soundless gasps.
Your lips parted, hips bucking before your back arched from the ground. Every fiber of your body attempted to get closer to him, and his to you. Of some act of grace, your hand caressed his face, lifting him to face yours.
Oh, how he wanted to melt right there. 
Eager eyes met each other, brows furrowing together into a soft, tender stare. Astarion’s hips began to buck erratically for a moment as he struggled to regain his resolve. Once steadied, he continued to bury deeper into you in every perfect way. You were clenched so tightly, so divinely around him while his name trickled as a whisper from your lips. 
“You – fuck .. “ you couldn’t be bothered to form a proper sentence, every whim of comprehension overwhelmed by new heights of white pleasure. You were lulled into a stupor, and his grip tightened at your garbled pleas.
“Thaaat’s it,” Astarion practically begged, voice ragged, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face as it twisted with sweet expressions. An eagerness gnawed inside him, to push you to the edge of your pleasures. You were so perfect while you cried his name, taking all of him so well. 
“Come for me, sweet girl –” Hushed and delicate was his tone, only causing you to surrender any inhibition.
Heat wound tightly in your abdomen, lashes wet with the tears trailing down your warm face. Every nerve was wound so tight, finally snapping into a rush of white hot pleasure that left your skin flushed and tingling. You tried to whine out his name, but it spilled out into broken gasps as you reached your fingers to grip his silver curls. 
His hips began to stagger, riding out your pleasure until he could no longer postpone the succumb to pleasure. They lost their rhythm, and a low moan rumbled from his throat as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of your tightening walls, pressing into you.
You could feel his cock throbbing in you, as your nerves are slow to fizzle from the glowing buzz, and it swelled. Your slick walls were overstimulated nearly by his desperate, choppy thrusts before a cry escapes his lips – his cum flooded into you, thick and hot. He felt waves of warmth, so real and alive. So helplessly right.
The air was silent, as you both collected your breaths in hurried gasps. Astarion peeled his weight off of you only to roll onto his back, by your side. Your body felt light and completely slack, almost boneless as you sunk into the earth underneath you. Aftershocks of pleasure still rippled throughout your nerves. 
Both of you laid sweaty, flushed, exhausted, lacking the energy to care. You broke the silence with a wobble in your voice.
“Fuck, you came inside me..” you stated the obvious, reeling from pulsing nerves and vision hazy. 
“I’m sure the druids have something that’ll take care of that..” Astarion said breathlessly, extending an arm to wipe the sweat glistening off his forehead. 
He waited for a quiet laugh or a retort, but neither came.
Turning his head, he was met with the vision of your exhausted figure fast asleep. Slowly your chest rose and fell, face at ease – a vulnerability he had only seen when you were in deep sleep, if you weren't tossing and turning.
The quiet sat with him while he attempted to gather his thoughts, his experience. He had seen an entirely different side of you – exposed delicate. Part of his conscience pooled with guilt. 
He had a plan. A nice simple plan. It wasn’t foreign to casually bed strangers, seducing and manipulating them into following his every whim. Hells, this had been routine for two hundred years . The count was lost on how many nights he spent using people like ragdolls, only to be lured back into the hands of Cazador.
Astarion returned his gaze to the stars glistening above, attempting his best at reducing it to the odd circumstances or perhaps he was simply out of practice. 
Regardless – even if it was more than a fluke – he had already fucked things up. The thought felt tainted now, uneasy and riddled with remorse. 
Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his plan crumbling apart.
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reobsessed · 8 months
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Unfamiliar Waters
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Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content: Bathing, kissing, hair washing, fluff, comfort, slight conflict that gets resolved immediately, no sex, minor mention of torture. 1500 Words. Summary: You were in dire need of a bath after a harrowing fight outside the inn you were staying at. Unfortunately you find the tub already occupied by Astarion. In an attempt to bond with and get him out of there, you offer to wash his hair. Another short Astarion fic I started a while ago. Wanted to do something fluffy and intimate without any sex. Thanks again to Suri for edits and help with lines and the title!
You flung open the wooden doors, uncaring as wood chipped against lavender painted walls. Just as you were halfway through discarding your shirt, an indignant cry caught you off guard.
“What in the sweet hells, do you mind?!” The towel and toiletries fell from your hands. You’d never been very perceptive and today was no exception. Already fully submerged in the tub was Astarion; chest bare slumped over the side, a dripping copy of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette in hand.
“Astarion?! I haven’t seen you in hours, is this where you’ve been?” You spluttered. “We really could have used your help. There was a fight right outside the inn. There’s absolutely no way you didn’t hear the commotion.”
“Some of us take pride in our appearances and besides, I needed time away from that festering group of ingrates.” As if to emphasise his point he shuddered. “You know, you could all learn a lot from me, starting with regular bathing.”
“And how exactly are any of us meant to bathe when you’re in the bathroom four hours every day?”
“Oh I don’t know, Baldur’s Gate has plenty of scenic rivers and lakes. I’m sure the bear has no problem leading each of you to nature’s finest bathhouse.”
You rubbed your temples with a freehand. As much as you loved this man, he could really start to grate on your nerves after a while. You scooped up your belongings and made your way over to him, arranging your towel neatly on the floor beside you.
He looked up from the paper disinterestedly. “As much as I love your company, dear, I hope you’re not planning on joining me. I hardly think this,” he gestured disapprovingly at the tub, “can fit us both.”
“Astarion, if there’s anything I can do to cut this exceedingly long bath short, I would be more than happy to assist.”
His eyes widened momentarily. How stupid of you, you hadn’t considered the implications of what you’d said. 
“No, no, that's quite alright. I’ve still got my hair to wash and that’ll take at least another half an hour.”
Perching yourself on the edge of the tub beside him, you began rolling up your sleeves.
“Then allow me.” You smirked.
He flung the sodden paper to the floor and stared at you dumbfounded. “You mean you- wash my hair. I’m sitting here naked, dripping and gorgeous and all you want to do is ‘wash my hair’?”
“Couples do things for each other. Things outside of sex and combat, I might add,” you sniped back. Using your fingers, you began combing through his dampened locks.
“Without the sex, I suppose that leaves only the one thing we do together then.”
“That’s true.” His body tensed. “No, no wait- '' Flustered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against the back of his head. A feeble gesture, intended to soothe him and buy you enough time to explain.
“Just kidding,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t genuine.
“I like doing other things with you,” you mumbled into his curls. “I don’t care about the sex.” You relaxed your hold, allowing him to turn around to face you. Delicately, you reached out and wiped a stray piece of hair from his forehead. As you did so, his unnaturally pale cheeks took on a darker hue, perhaps from the heat or from your touch, you weren’t sure.
He cleared his throat and turned away again. “I see then. Well, this is as good a time as any to try something new.” 
“Really?!” your head perked up. “I’m so excited, haven’t washed anyone else's hair since I left home.” You began swirling a hand in the tepid water, carefully choosing a spot faraway from where Astarion sat. “Did you and your siblings ever do this for each other? Like my family did,” you asked without thinking.
He shot you an incredulous glare, which soon contorted into sarcastic glee. “Oh, of course we did! And then in between our torture sessions we’d paint each others’ nails! What good fun it was.” His smile dropped and he fell backwards into the bath, splashing you in the process.
You scratched the back of your head. “Sorry I-”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave it, my love. No use dwelling on all that now.” You nodded your head in agreement, not that he could see you. “Come now, we don’t have all day.” 
You hummed in agreement, looking over the various bottles that sat on a shelf beside the bath. Astarion was a very particular man and you didn’t wish to upset him by, god’s forbid, using the wrong fragrance. You gestured towards the selection of shampoo. “What’s your poison?”
“Hmm, I think today I‘m in the mood for jasmine- no wait- night orchid and ginseng- actually, that honey shampoo sounds positively delicious.”
“Might net you some unwanted attention from our camp bear,” you joked, hands sifting through the knots in his hair.
“Fair point. Alright then, I think I’d like to try that raspberry one, the one you got from that dear little market stall.” 
The same one you liked to use.
With a gentle firmness you cupped the sides of his head. You hoped it was enough to stop him from turning around and seeing the pure glee etched onto your face.
“Alright, I need to get it wet, lean back,” you instructed, as you scooped up a handful of water.
He did as he was told and reclined backwards, eyes closed and squinted, anticipating the stream of water. Doing this for your brothers and sisters had been easy. Hells, you could get away with lobbing them in the river and they’d be just fine. Astarion, on the other hand, required a more delicate touch (even if he’d never admit to it) and you were more than happy to cater towards him.
With slow precision you poured the cooling water over his scalp, immediately pushing back any stray drops that threatened to drip down into his eyes. 
Gods, how was it possible for such a man to be so beautiful and how was it that such a man had chosen you as his partner? Your hands stopped and your gaze lingered, as you took in his picturesque features.
An eyelash heavy with steam peeled open, giving you an inquisitive look.
“Enjoying the show, darling?” A thick, humid heat bloomed across your cheeks. “By all means, keep admiring me.”
“Shut up and close your eyes!” You grabbed the bottle from the side and began lathering it in your hands. The familiar fragrance filled your nostrils and despite having grown accustomed to having it as your own scent, you were looking forward to how it smelt on him.
You rubbed the foam through your fingers, fully enveloping his hair in a thick mousse. As your nails dragged across his scalp you heard him moan. 
“That feels positively wonderful.”
“Oh yeah, like this?” you asked, repeating the same motions as before. He mmm-ed softly, sinking further into your hold. You paused for a second, this might be the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard coming from his lips, not a bad thing of course, given his past experiences. 
His eyes were open again, staring up at you, face awash with bliss. 
“Itching for a taste are we?” he goaded lightly.
There was no use dignifying that with a response. You brought your lips down upon his, his head still clasped in your hands. It was brief and sweet, reminiscent of those first kisses you’d once shared with young lovers. Unthinkable that such innocent yearning could be reclaimed so late in life. 
Reluctantly you broke the kiss and pulled away.
“I do rather like that, you know…”
“I know and so do I.” You beamed. “Okay now can you please hurry up so I can have a bath,” you pleaded, peppering his mouth with more kisses.
“Always so demanding,” came his curt reply (the audacity). Nonetheless, he complied and finished up. 
A deep sigh of relief escaped your lips after finally lowering yourself into freshly ran water. About halfway through wetting your hair, a freezing pair of hands on your shoulders caught you off guard.
“Astarion!” you shrieked. The little rogue had snuck up behind you.
“Oh, do be quiet, and don’t splash me. Wouldn’t do to get me wet again.” You watched as he rifled through the shampoo bottles disapprovingly. “We must go to the market together again soon, darling, just the two of us. I know just the product that’s perfect for your hair type, might do something about that helmet musk too.”
You opted to ignore that last dig, instead choosing to relish in the satisfaction of a warm bath and your lover threading his fingers through your hair. “I’d like that,” you hummed happily. 
A contented silence descended over the room. You felt at peace and when you saw him hovering above you with that serene grin on his face, you knew he felt the same.
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celestialowlbear · 4 months
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🌿 ♡ Halsin NSFW Headcanon Drabble ♡ 🌿
Pairing: Halsin x Reader (GN)
WC: ~600
Warnings: 18+, NSFW. Smut. Mentions of marking, possessiveness, some fluffiness. Reader/Tav not described besides having soft skin.
A/N: I’ve been having major Halsin thots and had to get them on a page (hence the bulleted list). Enjoy, my fellow big Druid lovers. 😊
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You are like nothing else he has ever experienced in his long life. 
He craves you, an insatiable hunger that burns his body from the inside out, and only you can tame that raging fire within him.
Your lips, your gentle touch, your sounds…
You are the rising sun, the soft glow of the moon, the peaceful breeze on a summer’s day, and life at the onset of spring.
Sometimes he wondered if he was a dead man walking, a specter of some sort, because being with you was heaven, or what he imagined it to be.
Halsin has to continuously control himself around you, at least while others are around.
When the camp was quiet and he had you all to himself, was when he could absolutely and utterly devour you, show you just how much he longs for you.
You let him lose control, wanting it, craving it yourself. 
You want to feel his fingers dig into your thighs, hear his louder and louder moans as you take more and more of him so, so willingly. 
When you are very much warmed up by his tongue and fingers, he finally fills you, sinking himself into you inch by inch, careful to never harm you and checking that it was never too much.
Halsin loves praising you, breathlessly comparing you to everything extraordinary and exquisite in nature and beyond.
His honeyed words spur you both on as his pace increases, the head of his cock caressing that spot so deep inside you it leaves you boneless and seeing galaxies.
You know he still holds back, the bear desperate to claw its way out, the primal urge raging under his skin as he pounds into you.
Halsin always wants your pleasure before his, making sure to get multiple orgasms out of you before he finishes. 
The way your body reacts, the way his name from your lips transforms from breathy whimpers to guttural moans of pure ecstasy is seared into his memories until the end of time, and that will still never be enough.
When you are finally spent, flushed and sweaty and thoroughly loved, is when Halsin takes what is his.
He loves flipping you on your stomach, gripping your thighs and pulling you up toward him, sinking into you with one thrust.
He mounts you, caging you in with his body, his bulging forearms on either side of your head, his lips at your ear, his broad chest pressing to your back.
You love it, feeling protected by him, encapsulated by everything that was Halsin.
The man, the bear, your lover, your mate. 
He is always able to get deeper in this angle, his fingers digging into the grass and dirt beneath you, his hot, growling breath on your neck as he finally loses his control.
Your soft body beneath him, the trust you have in him, the love in your eyes even as he fucks you relentlessly like a beast in heat, always brings him to his end, intense and blinding and all-consuming.
When you bask in the afterglow, Halsin carefully maneuvers you, checking you for any wounds he may have accidentally inflicted in the height of passion.
There’s usually a bruise or bite-mark or two, and you have to convince him it’s fine. 
You can tell he always feels bad after losing a bit of control, but part of him loves the fact that he’s able to see the marks on your body, reminding you and anyone else that you were his.
Then you lay in the grass, gazing up at the stars, your head on his chest.
He loves telling you stories about the constellations, and his deep timbre always lulls you into a peaceful sleep, with him following soon after, content in one another’s embrace.
-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-
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astarion-approves · 9 months
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More than sex.
Astarion x gn! Tav
"You’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?”
“Yes.”
Rating: Mature (for the subject but no actual sex or smut in any way shape or form.) Tags: Demisexuality, demisexual Tav, Demisexual Reader, No Smut, gn! Reader, Slight spoilers, Act One spoilers, Developing Relationship, Developing Friendships, Drabble, short and sweet, Confessions
Ao3 or keep reading below:
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“I’m just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun.”
Tav considered these words, anytime they saw Astarion having ‘fun’ was on the battlefield. Either stabbing his way through anything that stood before him, or sneaking up behind them and slitting their throat before they could even scream. “And what’s your idea of ‘a little fun?’”
Astarion smiled, taking a sip of his cheap wine before speaking, “By the hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion.” 
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. So, how about—“
“Shadowheart is free.” Tav looked over their shoulder to where she stood by her own tent where she fiddled with a bottle of wine attempting to open it with slow hands. 
“Wait, what—“ Astarion shifted to look past Tav to where she stood, the woman catching his gaze and glaring in return. 
“And she’s really pretty too,” Tav offered. 
“I’m not interested in hearing her praise her goddess tonight.” 
“Well, there’s also Lae’zel—“
Astarion shook his head. “I think she would rather behead me before she would ever bed me.”
“Halsin is available too—“ The Druid elf was handsome, and such a powerful one at that but before Tav could even finish, Astarion cut them off.
“Tempting, but not the one I’m interested in.” 
“Gale—“
“No.” 
Tav hummed, putting their hands on their hips as they scanned the rest of the camp. There were many others, but most were already too drunk to even remember their own names. “I can’t think of anyone else.” 
“There’s always you, darling.” 
“Me?” Tav snorted a laugh. Surely he must have been joking. Of all the people that Astarion could have… Tav would personally put themselves at the bottom of the list. 
“Yes, you. It’s not everyday someone like yourself would be propositioned by someone like me, and this may be your last opportunity—“
“No thank you.” 
“No?! What do you mean ‘no’?!” Astarion was shocked, his hands jumping to his chest as if Tav had stabbed him directly in the heart. 
Tav grimaced, the way that Astarion’s face dropped, the hurt that filled his eyes so quickly… “Look, I’m not… rejecting you—“
“Sure sounds like rejection to me—“
They shook their head. “I need to be in love first… before I can…” Tav lifted their hands, gesturing towards Astarion in a weak display of trying to find the words and failing. “Don’t get me wrong… you’re- you are breathtaking, Astarion. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on—“ 
“Yes, I know. But– you’re telling me, that you.. would pass on a night of… meaningless, fantastic, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mind blowing sex… for love?” 
“Yes.”
Astarion paused, taken aback. “Well, that’s actually quite admirable… But why?” 
“For me, I want it to mean something. Sex is an easily obtainable thing, but love… love you have to work for, to fight for, to earn and to cherish. Sex is great and all but… making love to the person who means the most to you in the world. That’s what I want. That’s what I need.” 
Astarion tapped his finger against his lips, thinking to himself before speaking again. “Hm. Sex and love, I never took you for such a sap,” he said with a light laugh. “Well, how do you feel about being friends then, hm? The kind of friends that protect one another, that is.” 
Tav chuckled. “I think it’s too late for that.” 
“Too late?! So what, now we can’t even be friends?!” Astarion threw his hands up, frustrated. “All I did was hit on you and now—“ 
“No, no,” Tav cut him off, reaching for Astarion’s hands and holding them gently. “What I mean… We can be friends but… I have developed some feelings for you. If you want to be friends, that’s fine. That’s great, actually. I just… well, I need to know if I should ignore those feelings—“  
Astatrion pulled his hands way, choosing to gesture towards Tav as he spoke. “So, let me get this straight. You have ‘some’ feelings for me?”
“Yes,” Tav replied with a nod. 
“But you don’t want to fuck me, tonight? Right now?” 
“Right.” They nodded again. 
“How very interesting… and even.. a little refreshing,” Astarion smiled, a smile that almost seemed shy… With his head turning away from Tav—and Tav swore they saw the smallest blush growing on his cheeks. 
“Refreshing?” Tav questioned, learning towards Astarion in an attempt to see that adorable blush— 
Astarion waved them off, the blush already gone and Astarion back to his usual self. “Never mind that, Tav. I guess we can see where this goes then?” He reached out, taking Tav’s hand into his own and giving it a light squeeze. “Whatever this is, anyway.” 
Tav smiled. “I’d like that.” 
5K notes · View notes
frantic-fiction · 3 months
Text
Lose Yourself 18+
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Pic: @casualya (side note....hot 🥵)
Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav
Summary: During a feeding Astarion gets worked up and a bit too excited. He's embarrassed, but it turns out Tav finds it incredibly hot.
Warmings: Smut MDNI, Premature ejaculation, dry humping, fingering, PnV Sex, overstimulation, comfort sex, blood
Word Count: 2.2k
Astarion's grip tightens against your jaw, tilting your head slightly more to give him better access to your neck. The initial chill of his bite has settled to a delicious icy throb. A moan rips from your kiss-swollen lips, relishing the feeling of your blood flowing into his greedy mouth. You scratch your nails against Astarion’s scalp, combing through his tousled curls. A smile streches you lips when a shiver runs down his spine, and the hand grabbing your thigh tightens.
The majority of Astarion’s body weight is blanketing you. His hips slotted between your parted legs, mindlessly grinding against the inside of your thigh, too consumed by your blood to be fully in control. You rub his back, shoulders, neck, any skin you can get you wandering hands on and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. This has him purring into your neck and rutting faster against your body, chasing more pleasure.
This night, you had made sure to stock up on extra health potions and lesser restoration scrolls so Astarion could have his fill without worry of any repercussions on your health come morning. 
And gods, you will be sure to make this a ritual from now on because seeing Astarion so lost in your body’s comfort, so relaxed and focused solely on his pleasure. It has your heart pounding and arousal pooling between your thighs. 
Feeling the telltale signs that it’s time for Astarion to stop, you grab tightly at his shoulder giving him a little shake. “Star,” you slur. 
Astarion sighs through his nose, taking one last sip before unlatching from your neck. He’s still lost in the haze of his feeding, eyes glossy and unfocused, trying desperately to meet your gaze. Tiny trickles of blood fall down his chin and onto your chest, where he messily laps the droplets with his tongue. Astarion’s hips are still pistoning against you, and little breathless gasps of pleasure escape his mouth. You swear you’ve never seen a more gorgeous sight. Then Astarion tenses, and with a choked sob of your name falls from his mouth, and he comes spilling onto your stomach.
The room stills.
Only the sounds of rapid breaths fill the room. Astarion’s eyes are wide open, and his mouth is agape, looking down at the mess on your stomach. You’re frozen, glued to the beads of sweat trailing down Astarion’s chest, moving down the planes of his stomach. 
“Shit,” he backs away. An embarrassed flush–only evident due to the recent blood consumption– floods his face moving all the way to the points of his ears.
“Fuck,”  you whimper needily, clenching against the rush of heat that simmers in your stomach.
Then Astarion lets you go, and you finally notice Astarion’s distress.
“I-that…shit,” Astarion stumbles over his words and hands you a cloth to clean yourself with. “I’m so–”
You pounce, and he catches you in his arms, looking startled. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence?” You growl, claiming his mouth in a chaste kiss, chasing the metallic taste off his lips. “That was so fucking hot.”
He clicks his tongue and lets go of you again. Backing away, Astarion starts picking up his scattered clothes. “Yes, I’m sure watching me cream myself like a boy being touched for the first time was just so attractive.” Astarion huffs and rolls his eyes. “Spare me,”
Feeling annoyed, you huff, knowing you need a different approach. Moving closer, you grab the clothes from Astarion’s hand, throw them to the side, and cup his jaw. You draw him into another kiss and trail a hand up the smooth skin of his chest, stopping to circle your thumb around his nipple. Astarion signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your naked sides, pausing to squeeze your hips.
“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. “Seeing you lose control, drunk on my blood, on my body,” 
Astarion shudders when you scratch your nails lightly down his chest before taking his hand in yours. Smiling wickedly, you peck his lips and pull away, ensuring he can see eyes. 
“Hells, Star,” Pulling him, you guide his fingers to your dripping heat. “I’ve never been so turned on.”
This has the desired effect. Astarion’s nimble fingers instinctually begin exploring, and you bite back a moan. He pulls away quickly to examine his slick, covered digits. When Astarion meets your gaze, all embarrassment seems to vanish, and he’s pushing you back down onto the bed. He rests his forearms on either side of you, cradling your head. Astarion trails a thumb over the curve of your jaw. Your hands snake around his neck. 
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to having Astarion look at you like he is now. Like you hung the moon and crafted each star so he would never be alone at night. It overwhelms you with such love that all you can do is pull him down and capture his lips. The kiss has no urgency, just two lovers enjoying the soft embrace. It holds the warmth of a crackling campfire, its embers building to something that leaves you needing more. 
Astarion coaxes your mouth open, and when you grant him access, he leads your tongue in a practiced dance. Feeling the tease of his razor-sharp fang, you moan, cupping the back of his head. You match the growing pace, hooking one leg over Astarion's hip to pull him flush against your body.
A groan rumbles through Astarion’s chest, and he gives a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later. One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Astarion’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from the elf. Astarion wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck.
“I don’t think I tell you enough, just how beautiful you are, darling.” He mumbles against your collarbone before sucking a bit of skin into his mouth and playfully teasing it between his teeth. 
You chuckle, swing your other leg, and link them behind his back. “You tell me at least once a day, handsome,”
“You’re such a sap.” You tease and roll your hips up against Astarion’s cock, already swelling once again.
“See, not nearly enough.” He pulls away from the freshly marked skin.
“You, my love, are so breathtaking, exquisite, beautiful,” Astarion emphasizes each adjective with wet, open-mouth kisses down to your chest before beginning to suck another mark just above your heart.
He grunts, grinding back against you. “Only for you, my love.” 
Astarion’s hand moves between your bodies to your neglected pussy. His deft fingers enter you with a wet squelch, and you instinctively buck into his palm. A whimper leaves your lips, and you dig your nails into the skin of Astarion’s shoulder. He set a pace that is both agonizing and toe-curling perfect. 
“See what you’ve reduced me to, darling,” Astarion whispers sinfully, voice low and filled with temptation, his thumb finds your clit. He applies light pressure rubbing tight circles. 
You throw your head, arching your back, clamping your thighs tighter around his waist. “Fuck, Star.” 
Astarion picks up his pace just a notch; his mouth finds your neck again. “It’s all your fault.” He says before biting your ear.
You cry out his name, fisting the bedsheet, feeling the familiar coil building. You are so lost in your pleasure you barely notice Astarion is now rubbing his cock with his spare hand looking down at you with lidded eyes.
“M close Star.” You cry, bucking your hips against his palm. “Fuck.. don’t stop.”
“I am now merely a sappy, love-sick fool who just can’t control myself when it comes to you.”
Astarion is now pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping-wet cunt in a way that has your orgasm building quickly.
“That’s it, darling,” He groans, kissing you softly. “Let go for me,”
Electricity pulses through you, seizing every muscle, every nerve, and every cell of your body with blinding pleasure. You’re moaning and babbling nonsense and pulling him into a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. Astarion continues his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm. Finally, when the heat simmers down, he pulls his fingers from your body, leaving you whining from the loss. 
Astarion is quick to put your whines at ease. “Will you give me one more, my love, please?” Astarion practically begs, kissing you with the desperation of a starving man. 
The tip of his swollen cock slides through your folds and teases your sensitive entrance. You barely have time to choke out a yes, please, before Astarion is plunging into you with a grunt. Instinctually, you clench around his length, loving the feel of the fullness Astarion always gives you. 
“Shit..so tight,” Astarion groans and begins to thrust frantically into your heat. “Always so perfect.”
“Astarion.”
All decency, coordination, and softness was tossed away. Both of you were too sensitive, too desperate for the other, to care for anything but mindless pleasure. It was messy, feral, and perfect. Astarion devoured your mouth, groaning against your tongue. His hands couldn’t seem to stay in one place, constantly caressing, grabbing, and massaging any part of you he could hold. 
You spread your legs wide and angled your hips, bucking against each one of Astarion’s deep thrusts. One of your hands cups Astarion’s jaw, keeping him close, and the nails of your other rake down his back, causing a violent shiver to run through Astarion’s body.
“M-more..ugh, please.” You gasp out between Astarion’s feverish kisses.
He nods in return and grunts into your open mouth. “Shit..ugh,”
With a strength you hope never to get used to, Astarion effortlessly switches your positions. Your hands are on his chest, knees framing his slim waist. He’s on his back, smirking smugly up at you. You giggle dumbly, feeling dizzy from the sudden movement. That giggle turns into a wanton moan as Astarion thrusts up into you, hitting a deeper spot inside of you.
“Yes... Star.” Using the hold he has on your hips, he moves your body to pick up the brutal pace from before. “Gods,”
You bounce on your knees in time with his thrusts, and the room is filled with the slick sound of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of ecstasy. The pleasure is almost too much, and you feel the pressure bubbling again. You try to say as much, but a wave of pleasure has you gasping mindlessly, head lolling to the side.
Astarion wants to feel you come undone around him. Lose yourself so he can lose himself with you. So you oblige his request and snake a hand between your legs just above where Astarion is fucking you and begin to rub your clit in time with his quick thrusts. 
“Love, fuck..ngh,” he chokes on a moan. His thrusts are faltering and getting sloppier.
“T-touch yourself for me... I’m close.” He trails off grunting, but you don’t need words to know what he wants.
It’s all too much, the angle of Astarion’s hips hitting the sweet spot inside you over and over, the delicious grip of his hand on your body, the tenderness of your clit as you add more pressure. You’re so close and trying hard to keep looking at Astarion’s beautiful flushed face and wanting him to be your last image before you fall into black-out bliss. But it’s getting harder to keep your eyes focused. Your numb legs buckle, and you stumble forward; your orgasm is almost painful. It tears through your body, ripping pleasure from your trembling muscles and fried nerves. You bite into the flesh of Astarion’s pectoral to stifle your sobs of ecstasy.
“Fuck, darling, good girl.” Astarion praises, grinding your hips against his. “Shit... I’ve got you.” And with a few shallow, pitiful rolls of his body, Astarion is cumming with a deep guttural groan filling you with ropes of his warm come.
He drops boneless, and you pant against his chest, heart still pounding against your ribs. You both are like jelly melting into a puddle on the bedsheets. You feel the drag of Astarion’s fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. Humming softly, you pepper kisses over his still heart. 
“Shouldn’t be embarrassed ’round me,” you mumble, yawning against his skin, too tired to raise your head. The feeling of Astarion’s fingers felt like a sleep spell. “I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.”
Astarion stiffens under you, hand stilling against your back, clearly taken back. It takes him a bit to respond, but you don’t rush him. Just continue to kiss his chest and melt further at the feeling of his hands on your skin. Content just being here with Astarion.
He clears his throat before saying thickly, “And I love you, darling.” Astarion moves slightly and pulls out of your tender cunt. In doing so, a gush of your combined juices spills down your thighs.
 “Gross, now I feel sticky.” You puff, grimacing at the feeling.
“How about I draw us a bath?” You nod silently and he sits you both up. However you refuse to get off his lap, clinging to him like a sloth to a tree. 
“Carry me?” 
He kisses the crown of your head. “Always.” Astarion scoops you up and carries you along to the bath.
Heya, I quite like how this turned out. I love writing 'rougher' smut, but sometimes the tender stuff just hits ya know? Let me know what you thought. I hope Astarion didn't seem ooc.
If you want to be added to the taglist DM me, please!
Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny @cherifrog @ophelia-ophelian
3K notes · View notes
dancingbirdie · 7 months
Text
Back with another bout of plotless smut. Read at your own discretion and take note of the tags. <333
Like my smut writing? Find more here.
We Have All Night
Rating: MATURE
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader x Halsin
Word Count: 800
Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (fem!Reader receiving), praise kink, hand kink, threesome technically?, mentions of alcohol, pure plotless smut
Summary: You'd been wondering for some time what it would be like to have Halsin and Astarion share you.
*****
You could have easily blamed the events that ensued on the bottles of Blingdenstone Blush you all had passed around camp that evening. But if you were honest with yourself, the position you found yourself in was one you had been fantasizing about for some time. 
“That’s it, darling,” Astarion coaxed as his fingers slipped gently through your hair, teasing and massaging your scalp. Your head was pillowed in his lap, pupils blown wide with lust as you peered up at him. He smiled down at you, a wicked, hedonistic sort of grin.
“You so desperately want to hold still for him, don’t you?”
You whined your assent, trying your best to keep your hips from bucking – an impossible task considering the relentless way Halsin’s tongue was licking and circling that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs. 
“Such a good girl. You’re doing so well” Astarion cooed, while Halsin groaned in agreement. The vibrations it created against your skin felt like electricity surging through your limbs. 
Your mind was a disjointed haze of lust and alcohol. Totally uninhibited, you keened loudly as the druid suddenly gripped the softness of your thighs and plunged his tongue inside you.
“Shh, shh, shh” Astarion hushed, moving a hand to cover your mouth. “We don’t want the rest of the camp to hear our fun, do we?”
You groaned and shook your head slightly. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to join in?” you rasped, your lips moving against his slender fingers.
He gave a mischievous little chuckle. “I’m certain. I’m having a wonderful time just watching,” Astarion returned. 
“The night is still young,” Halsin persuaded, pausing his feasting on you to meet Astarion’s eyes. The absence of his mouth left you wanting, aching for contact once more. “If you change your mind, there’s plenty of fun to be had.” 
“A tempting offer, indeed,” Astarion smirked. “Let’s see where the evening takes us, shall we?”
You moaned against his hand as Halsin dipped his head to begin circling your clit with his tongue once more. You fisted his gorgeous auburn locks in your hands, eliciting a groan from his mouth that felt absolutely delicious against your hypersensitive skin. 
“Our sweet pup has an oh-so-difficult time keeping quiet, doesn’t she?” Astarion crooned, tracing his fingers against the seam of your lips. “You’re trying so hard, darling, I know you are.”
His silken, sinful voice felt almost as euphoric as the deplorable things Halsin was doing between your legs. In a bout of unbridled lust, you opened your mouth to capture Astarion’s index and middle fingers in your mouth. 
You sucked down on them, circled them with your tongue, as you imagined having his hard length sheathed down your throat. Your bawdy move drew a sharp breath from the vampire, followed by a quiet groan. 
You paused your ministrations, lifting a hand to pull his fingers from your mouth before asking, “Is this okay? Is it too much?” 
Astarion chuckled darkly, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. 
“You wicked thing,” he purred. “Yes, it’s okay. And it has the added benefit of keeping you quiet.”
You were beyond laughs and jokes. Hearing his consent, you drew his fingers back down to your mouth and resumed your sucking. You moaned your approval as Astarion pistoned his fingers deeper into your mouth at the same time Halsin inserted two fingers inside you. 
You knew you wouldn’t last long. Not with the way the druid was fucking you with his fingers at the same time his tongue was circling your clit. Not with the way Astarion was trailing one hand delicately across your exposed skin while you worshiped the fingers of his other hand with your tongue and lips. 
Every nerve within you was alight and thrumming with barely-restrained energy. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your body preparing for the sweetest freefall that would soon ensue. Your heels dug into Halsin’s muscled back as you tensed, one hand still clenching his hair while the other held desperately onto Astarion’s thigh. 
“Yes, darling, yes,” Astarion kept coaxing as your body drew more and more taut. A bowstring desperate to be released. 
“Let yourself come, you know you want to,” he added in a soft whisper. 
It was too much. 
Those words, and a final flick of Halsin’s tongue, had you shattering into a thousand pieces. Your cries were barely restrained by the fingers still occupying your mouth. You were lost in pleasure, awash in the tingling aftermath of your release. 
Chest heaving, mind reeling, you could barely find words. 
“That… that was…” you wheezed, before letting loose a giggle. “Everything I’d imagined it would be.”
“You’d thought about this before?” Halsin grinned, wiping his mouth clean against his forearm before leaning down to plant a reverent kiss against your lips. You could taste yourself on him. It gave you more satisfaction than perhaps it should have. 
“My, my. What other sort of depraved carnal pleasures are bouncing around in that head of yours, I wonder?” Astarion added, helping you sit up so that you were lounging between the two of them. 
You shared a conspiratorial grin with both elves. “We have all night, if you’d like me to show you.”
4K notes · View notes
lovelybluebirdie · 5 months
Text
Something to care for
Astarion x f!Reader
Summary: Astarion seeks comfort when he is terrified of losing you to his former master.
Word Count: 2,1k
hurt/comfort, angst and fluff
[ AO3 ]
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Fleeting glances across the tavern, jovial laughter followed by a touch to his arm, and Astarion has exactly what he needs. Your trust builds fast over his charming words, so you agree to accompany him to the mansion without doubting his intentions. 
Astarion dissociates, follows his usual routine as he has done for over hundreds of years by now, while you remain blissfully unaware that you are already caught in his trap.
The scene feels painfully familiar, and yet it doesn't at all.
Uneasiness spreads over him. 
No, this doesn't seem right. 
Why are you here?
The next moment you lie on his old master’s bed, your eyes closed and shallow breaths emitting your lungs. A dark silhouette is bending over you, its mouth glued to your neck. 
Cazador.
Panic creeps down Astarion's spine.
No, this isn't right at all.
His thoughts start to race. He needs to free you from this monster's claws - now.
Cazador looks up as his lips form a hideous grin, blood running from his chin and spluttering on your motionless body.
“A very pleasant bouquet you have brought to me, boy. But you know of that already, do you not?”
Astarion freezes.
The malice in his voice shatters his ribs with the blow of an axe.
He wants to scream, to get you away from here, but his body doesn’t respond. 
Suddenly the whole scene shifts and Astarion finds himself with his fangs buried deep inside your neck, warm liquid pouring in his mouth while your hand rests loosely on his nape. 
An unbearable dread rises in him.
He desperately tries to tear himself away, to stop feeding on you, but an invisible force holds him down, leaving it impossible to let go. 
He must be going mad.
“You sought out to drink from thinking creatures, did you not? Go on then, lavish yourself on her blood! Bleed her dry.”
Cazador’s command unleashes like a fist to his skull.
Astarion knows that he is enjoying this, and it makes him sick. 
He concentrates back on you, frantically looking for a way to get you out of this. 
“It's alright, Astarion…” you whisper. “I know this isn’t… you.” You seem on the verge of fainting, the hand that rested in his hair slipping, your pulse weakening.
The fondness in your words almost breaks him.
He wishes to plead, to offer himself - to give Cazador everything he demands, if only he would allow you to leave unharmed, but he can’t speak.
Instead, he feels Cazador’s violent grip push him down, ramming his teeth deeper in your neck.
Astarion’s eyes wet and his body trembles while he’s obliged to swallow more of your blood. The thick liquid spills over his lips onto your neck, drips to your hair and paints the collar of your blouse.
Astarion knows that he’s hurting you, killing you, yet he has no control over his own doing. He can't stop, even if his whole body longs for nothing more than to release you.
His senses start to dull, colourful dots exploding before his eyes, while he’s unable to form a single coherent thought anymore, entirely helpless to this monstrosity he inflicts on you.
“What’s the matter, boy?” his former master taunts with a malignant chuckle and positions himself so that Astarion has to look at him. “Isn’t this what you craved? To be free of me, to do as you please?"
His laugh evolves to a gruesome crescendo, echoing through the dreary halls that Astarion once called his home - mocking him, a punishment for his disobedience.  
Astarion summons his remaining strength to banish Cazador from his mind and fixates back on you. 
He must save you, now, otherwise you will -
*
Astarion's lungs are on fire. His fangs ache, and his chest is bursting.
He grasps his throat and chokes as he remembers the taste of your blood in his mouth. 
Gods, what has he done to you?
He takes a moment to perceive his surroundings.
This is not Cazador’s mansion, he realises, but your shared tent in the camp you made near Rivington.
The essence of his nightmare returns with agony: his fangs piercing your neck, Cazador’s order to bleed you dry, while you were completely defenceless against his torment. The image is almost too much to bear.
With haste, he begins to fumble the woollen fabric of his bedroll in search of your warm body. He has to ensure that you are alive - that he didn’t hurt you.
Then his hand finds your wrist and he stops in his motion. He pushes the fright that shrouds him aside and feels for your pulse, careful not to wake you. There it is - a constant throb at his fingertips. 
Despite the evidence that the violent scene was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, he can’t bring himself to fully accept that there wasn’t an actual threat - that you are safe. Yet he has no desire to worry you with his musings, so he starts to slowly pull his hand away, before he notices that it’s already too late. You sit up beside him, rubbing sleep from your tired eyes. 
You look so adorable that his chest grows tight. 
“Astarion? Are you alright?” Your brow furrows when your gaze meets his, concern lingers in your voice.
Astarion opens his mouth, only to press it shut again as he feels hot tears forming in his eyes. He swallows hard. He wants to reassure you that it’s nothing, to tell you that you should go back to sleep, but the ferocity he committed in his nightmare robs him of any speech. 
You give him an understanding expression and lift your blanket. “Do you want to come over here?”
He nods and shifts towards you.
You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. Astarion sinks his head onto your chest and listens carefully to your heartbeat - to make sure you are truly unscathed. That he didn't kill you, didn't bleed you dry - that he has not become like Cazador.
The pulsing sound flows in a soothing rhythm. 
He closes his eyes and inhales your familiar scent. The weight that is crushing his lungs slowly begins to dissolve. 
You are so warm, he thinks, so comforting, always so affectionate.
“It’s alright,” you breathe and rest your lips at his temple. “He can’t hurt you now.”
There is no need to ask how you know what haunts him, you simply do, and Astarion buries his face deeper in your chest, grasps the fabric of your tunic and lets out a deep sigh. A few silent tears he has tried to hold back spill from his eyes, dampening your clothes.
Your hands draw circles on the small of his back, up to his shoulder blades, until they move to his hair and tenderly stroke along his ears. 
He concentrates on your touch. You are here, with him, unharmed - he didn’t hurt you.
A calmness enfolds and for the first time since he woke he allows himself to relax. 
Astarion suddenly wonders if he ever had something like a home, a real home, somewhere he felt safe - not Cazador’s mansion, the place from his nightmare, where he endured nothing but torture and cruelty.
Something he could choose for himself - willingly. Not something he was forced to, but something he wanted.
For centuries he was used to the pain he suffered under Cazador’s rule, but you've proven how different his life can be. Through the time he spends with you, he's learned that he is valued as a person. You make him feel seen - show him compassion and patience, despite him missing the words at times. 
You give him honest, loving affection, without any vile intent or in expectation of getting something in return. 
You are the only one who is like that. Who genuinely cares for him, who loves him. No one was ever kind to him, only you. No one has a heart like that.
Maybe a home isn’t a place, he thinks, but a person. 
He feels your fingers twisting gently around his curls, while he listens to the sound of your beating heart, and wishes to never let go of you. 
But there is still Cazador and the Rite of Profane Ascension to overcome, and his mansion is barely a tenday away from now. 
Astarion wants to shove the thought aside, but knows he can’t. Not when there is so much at stake - when you give him so much to care for. 
He envisions the ancient ritual Cazador has planned. 
If he was to complete the rite himself, would he become even more powerful than his old master? Would this newfound power offer you protection - keep both of you safe? 
But what if you came to harm once you entered his residence? Hells, what if it would be his fault?
The fear of losing you clings its relentless hooks back to his core.
Astarion sinks deeper into your arms and sighs.
No. He cannot lose you - not to the Absolute, not to Cazador or any other madness you have to encounter along your way.
His shoulders tense, leading you to squeeze them fondly.
“He won’t win, Astarion,'' you vow with the determination that Astarion knows too well by now. “We will beat him.”
At first he wants to scold you, point out how naive you were to think it would be an easy task to confront his past tormentor, but instead he pauses to consider. 
He remembers the foes you've come across on your journey. There have been gruesome, vigorous creatures among them, and yet you were able to vanquish them in the end.
Have you gathered enough strength to destroy a powerful enemy like Cazador, though?
For a second, Cazador’s liveless body appears in front of Astarion’s inner eye. 
Maybe, there was a real chance…
After all, to ensure that both of you will be safe - truly safe - Cazador must be ended, one way or another. 
“Is that so?” Astarion clears his throat and frowns. “Well, when you sound so resolute I find myself actually imagining us succeeding.”
Your features soften as you lean forward and put a kiss to his brow.
“I know we will,” you reply confidently. “Besides, for some reason I was declared the leader of our little group, so I'd suggest you better put some trust in my word.”
“I’m afraid being the leader of this group full of weirdos is hardly something to be proud of, love,” Astarion murmurs against your neck.
“That’s rich, coming from the weirdest of the bunch,” you tease as you tousle through his curls. “You’re a rogue who’s terrified of clowns - shall I go on?” 
Astarion snorts at your remark. “I'm not terrified of them!” he protests with a pout. “It's just.. They make me uneasy, alright? And they're not original - or funny. Honestly, I’d rather witness a goblin mating ritual than any of those wretched clown shows again.”
He removes your hand from his hair to intertwine your fingers with his. Then he recalls the image of the clown you visited at the circus the other day and his face turns into a grimace.
“Keep telling yourself that, but I know for a fact that you were absolutely petrified the moment you saw Dribbles.”
“That wasn’t even a regular clown - that beast was also a shapeshifter!” Astarion exclaims in feigned bewilderment.
You raise an eyebrow and wait for a moment, leaving Astarion curious, until you pin him down to tickle him all over.
“Stop it, you cheeky thing!” Astarion presses between his laughs while he tries to shelter his most sensitive parts from your ruthless fingers.
When he eventually manages to roll on top of you and grab your wrists, you look at him lovingly and catch your breath. He feels the remaining knots in his chest come loose.
Then your face turns serious again. “I promise you, we will beat him.”
“Stubborn as ever,” Astarion states and clicks his tongue, before his lips curl up to a genuine smile. “But perhaps I’ll remind you of that promise when the time comes.”
“By all means, I hope you do,” you assure and return his smile, your thumb softly brushing his cheek. 
You have a rare talent to relieve the tension, he notices. To make him feel light - to make him laugh even, a real, honest laugh, despite the horrors that linger on his mind of late. 
Astarion kisses the tip of your nose and lifts from your chest, resting his body against your back and draws you in a close embrace. Then he buries his face in your hair and presses a kiss to your neck, relishing your pleasant warmth. 
A sudden fire rises inside him.
The thought of facing Cazador remains scary, terrifying even, but somehow with you, he senses there is a viable chance to defeat him at last.
You give him something to care for, and he will do everything in his might to protect you - both of you, his home.
He won’t lose you, and he won’t lose this.
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vixstarria · 4 months
Text
Seeing stars
Welp, I wrote more porn.
Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader
18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.
I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.
This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.
Approx. 2,900 words
“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.” 
You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets. 
Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight. 
“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.” 
“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.” 
“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.” 
Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.  
“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?” 
“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.” 
“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”  
“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.” 
“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?” 
“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.” 
Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle. 
“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?” 
"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased. 
“I hate dancing,” he said. 
“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?” 
“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.” 
“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned. 
“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?” 
“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh. 
Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before. 
“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?” 
“I didn’t let him.” 
He laughed. 
“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?” 
You had to think for a moment.  
“Are we counting Volo?” 
“Sure.” 
“Then just Karlach and Withers.” 
“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 
“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?” 
Astarion was silent for a few moments. 
“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”  
Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he said.  
“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.  
“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.” 
“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered. 
Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan. 
“That’s not my back, Astarion.” 
One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly. 
“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?” 
“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.” 
“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.  
“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.” 
His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.  
“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.  
“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.” 
His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.  
“You can try,” you taunted him. 
Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.  
“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you. 
It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars. 
You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.  
“Ast… what..”  
You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll. 
“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”
His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans. 
“Let go, darling... I know you want to.” 
It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it. 
Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip. 
“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.” 
“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.  
“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up. 
You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more. 
“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred. 
A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.  
“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly. 
“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.” 
You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you. 
You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.  
“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...” 
He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.  
You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t- 
“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body. 
You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.  
“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?” 
“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip. 
“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.  
You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again. 
“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?” 
He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night. 
“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.  
Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well. 
“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...” 
Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you. 
“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.” 
‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.  
“Your what?” you gasped.  
He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.  
Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.  
He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.  
Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go. 
“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his. 
“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.  
You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.  
You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face. 
Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear. 
“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder. 
You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips. 
“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.  
“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea. 
You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements. 
“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder. 
His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.  
“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips. 
He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.  
“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear. 
He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath. 
You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.  
You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.  
Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke. 
“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.  
“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?” 
“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk. 
“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes. 
He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.  
“Is that so?” he said softly.  
You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..? 
“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.  
Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.  
Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.  
You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with. 
“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.” 
Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.  
“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.  
“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying. 
“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”   
“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled. 
“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”  
He chuckled at that. 
“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.  
“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered. 
“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”  
“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.  
“Five.”  
“It’s seven, dear, I counted.” 
“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-” 
Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.  
“Do not finish that thought, darling.” 
You grinned from behind his palm.  
“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.  
“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”  
You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.  
“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly. 
“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.  
You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.  
Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.  
~~~~~
Follow up bonus scene
This work is part of a series - here is the master list
Next in series - Confession
AO3
Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89
@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears
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