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1000punks · 3 months

Text

bonding. //sparring

bonding. //masterlist

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. praise/degradation. breathplay. rough, possessive sex. d/s. there's also plot points, i promise.

word count: 7,734

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡ header credit: MANTIS. // @astarionposting

Festé rolled to their back, blinking their eyes open and stretching their arms overhead, sprawling out. They startled when they saw Astarion's face hovering inches from their own. "Gods in the Hells!" they yelped, covering their face.

"I…" Astarion whispered, trailing off. Festé opened their eyes to see his forehead creased with worry.

"What is it, my love? You scared me." The tiefling rubbed the sleep from their eyes, reaching up to palm at his forehead. "What's wrong?"

"This morning, you're… Are you angry with me? How much did you hear?" The elf squeezed his eyes shut, seeming to be bracing himself.

"What? Not at all, my love," Festé moved their hand to rest against his cheek, and he flinched away. They rolled to their side, dropping their hand to rest on his on top of the blankets. "I heard you and Gale discussing… something. What I could discern," they stroked over the back of his hand slowly, "Is that he suggested we find another vampire to bite me, and then kill them. Like we did…" Festé paused, watching Astarion's face crumple. He slowly lowered his head to rest on his arms on the mattress, shaking it as he moved. "Like we did once before," they finished. A deafening silence descended over the bedroom. Festé let it go on for several moments before speaking again. "I'm not angry about your reaction, love. I just want to know why you were so upset." They leaned up on their elbow, resting their free hand on his arm.

"There are… many reasons, darling." His tone was even, but icy, and he lifted his head so that he could look into his imp's eyes. "Not the least of which is that allowing you to be bitten by another vampire would put your very life at risk," he spat. Festé raised an eyebrow, grimacing as Astarion continued. "I personally cannot fathom you in harm's way like that; not to mention, it could mean years of abuse for you, like I had to endure, until you could break free. Gale, the idiot, seems to think that with the right plan, we could avoid all of that, but he… he…" he let out a snarl of frustration. "He doesn't understand."

"I'm sure that Gale thinks those are calculated risks to take, my love. He's not a stupid man-" Festé started.

"Don't you dare take his side, Festé!" Astarion growled, and he moved instantaneously, gripping their wrist as he straddled their hips, pinning them halfway under his body. He was above them, his eyes dark with fury.

"Listen to me, my love." Festé was taken aback with the absence of his favourite pet name for them, and they shot him a rare scowl. "Listen, please. I trust Gale to think that we're capable of carrying out such a task, but did either of you consider what I want?" They studied the elf's face. His voice was unsure as he repeated their question.

"What you want?" He murmured, squinting at them.

"Yes, what I want. Did you ask?" They huffed, struggling to sit up, one hand moving to Astarion's chest to push him back slightly.

"You don't want this, you-"

"That's right, I don't." Festé spat, their fingers coming to rest firmly on his lips. "But you wouldn't have known that, because neither of you bothered to ask me. You assumed, both of you. I wasn't angry then, but I am now," they sighed harshly, pinching the bridge of their nose.

"You d… What?" The elf was incredulous. He sat back, disarmed. "You don't… want that? Isn't that what every mortal wants?" he hissed.

"You didn't, Star. You said you had no choice in the matter." They looked up at him, their expression grim. "I do, and while I would give my life to spend forever with you, I don't think the risk is worth the potential reward."

"You… You don't?" The elf whispered, casting his eyes downwards.

"You're right, what if someone got hurt in the process? What if one of our friends got hurt? What if, gods forbid, you got hurt, or killed? It's selfish, but the rest of my short life with you, like this," they reached to stroke over his cheek, "Where I can give you… all of me? I'd rather that than potentially spending eternity with regrets, or deaths weighing on my conscience." They smiled sadly, and Astarion frowned in return. "If I get a choice, then all I want is you, safe and sound."

"You want the same thing as I do." It wasn't a question. Astarion closed his eyes, and Festé was close enough to count his eyelashes. "You want to protect me; and I want to protect you," he sighed, and he sounded relieved.

"Yes, but if you would like to fight about it some more, we can go outside and settle it with a duel." Festé whispered back.

"Don't be funny, darling," he said, pressing his forehead to theirs.

"I'm serious," they stated, but they chuckled softly, reaching up to pet through his hair slowly. Astarion leaned to their touch, looking into their eyes. His were a deep scarlet.

"I'm much too thirsty not to seriously hurt you, darling," his voice had a ragged edge to it. The elf reached up, closing his fingers around their forearm, pulling it down to brush his nose over their wrist, humming. "And… I owe you an apology, first," he whispered. "I shouldn't have assumed your feelings; and I should have asked your thoughts on the matter." He tilted his head up, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, darling."

"I forgive you, my love. Thank you for your apology. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you." The elf looked surprised for a moment, though his expression softened as their fingers brushed over their cheek. Astarion pressed his lips to their skin, this time a question. Festé's pulse thrummed in response, and they nodded. He sank his fangs into their wrist, and they watched in awe; it was the very first time he had done so, and they clearly saw pure bliss unfold over his features. The tiefling's lips parted as they studied their elf, stunned by how tender his face became as he drank. His long fingers curled loosely around their wrist, fingernails pressing half-moons into their rosy skin, and his eyes fell closed. Festé's breathing slowed, relaxing with him, and they murmured, "Do I really taste that good, my love?"

Astarion opened his eyes at the sound of their voice, sighing through his nose and blinking slowly in response. Regardless of the pleasure that was apparent on his face, he pulled back, cleaning the imp's wound with soft flicks of his tongue. He pushed them to their back quickly but smoothly, pressing his lips to theirs in a messy kiss. A thrill twisted in the tiefling's belly when he licked into their mouth, as he had done hundreds of times before. The coppery taste of their own blood washed over their tongue. This time, however, they studied the flavour, attempting to think like a vampire. He kissed them breathless, and left his imp panting softly on the bed as he sat up.

"Your blood," he whispered, "Tastes smoky, with the faintest note of sweetness. And musky, rich; it reminds me of feasting on the finest cuts of game, in my old life. It's also got… a certain spiciness, I think." He looked sheepish as he trailed off, meeting Festé's gaze. They had sat up and were resting back on their elbows, smiling up at him.

"You've just implied that I taste gamey, my love," Festé contained their laughter, attempting to keep their features composed.

"Well…" Astarion said softly, "I suppose it fits, with your career choices and all, doesn't it?" He smirked, swiping a stray drop of blood from the corner of his lips before sucking it off of his thumb. "The point is… I like it. I think it's perfect."

"Would it be upsetting to you if I were to become a vampire, then? If I smelled and tasted differently than I do now?" The tiefling pushed the duvet down, shifting to get out of bed, and the elf followed suit.

"It would be a drawback, if I'm being honest." Astarion hesitated, reaching down to collect his shirt from the floor. "I don't want to seem shallow, but I love you just as you are. Warm…" he pressed close to them when he had straightened up, and he hummed appreciatively. "Warm, and soft," he ghosted his hand under their shirt and over their stomach. "And alive. Not cold, hard, and dead like yours truly," he chuckled airily. Festé smiled once more as he wrapped his arm around their waist. "But, darling… I'm so grateful that you've never made me feel guilty for what I am," he tilted his head. "It makes accepting myself so much easier."

Festé leaned up to kiss Astarion's cheek. "You're you, my love," they said matter-of-factly, "And I wouldn't change a thing."

He nuzzled their cheek before pulling away slightly, squinting. "Mhn, nothing besides your clothes, my dear. We have company." He pecked their forehead before breaking away, tugging his shirt on as he made for the front door. Festé heard a knock in the next moment, pulling their breeches on and following their elf into the living room as they straightened their own shirt. Astarion had opened the door to Gale and Shadowheart once again. "Well hello," he drawled, "Do come in, we were just getting up."

"I suppose you're lucky we were running a little late, Astarion, otherwise you would be little more than a pile of ash right now." Shadowheart said dryly, stepping inside with Gale in tow. "We can't stay very long, but we wanted to share some news before heading home."

"Do tell, darling," Astarion murmured, gesturing vaguely toward the couch before catching Festé in his arms when they came close. Gale waved one hand at the pale elf.

"Unfortunately, we do have to make this rather quick. So-"

"So I had better talk," Shadowheart quipped, continuing, "We have an interesting bit of intelligence from Jaheira. She went to that meeting last night with Nine-Fingers, and called on us this afternoon to share what she had heard." The cleric looked between the couple pointedly. "Would you like to guess what kind of ring it was that Minsc tried to steal?" she asked; and when the two exchanged a look with one another and shrugged, she hissed, "It was the ring of the Sunwalker."

"What does that mean?" Festé murmured, "Does that mean what I think it-"

"You're joking," Astarion scoffed. "That's a little too convenient, isn't it?" He shifted his weight uncomfortably behind his imp, and they turned halfway to glimpse his expression, which was, like the night before, purposefully blank.

"Apparently not," Gale interjected, wagging a finger at the pale elf and smirking widely. "Apparently Minsc's dumb luck knows no bounds. Regardless," he held up both hands, "We know that it exists now, and that Nine-Fingers was planning to sell it to a client; somewhere in Amn. More than likely, to a high-ranking vampire, or someone to that effect."

"For how much?" Festé asked, their mouth falling open as they finally pieced it together.

"An immeasurable price, surely." Astarion sounded defeated.

"Wait - All that Nine-Fingers revealed to Jaheira was that the client wanted to go into hiding. I have a theory, but no time to tell what it is." Gale cast a glance at Shadowheart, who was nodding and rotating her hand in a slow circle, encouraging the wizard to get to the point. "Right, the thing is, we can all band together to potentially intercept that very special cargo, by heist or by feist. If my research is correct, then it would allow Astarion to enjoy the sun for short periods of time without being hurt." He finished, smiling widely. "Jaheira will be sending correspondence of the where and when, as it were."

"So, if I'm to understand correctly, I'm to risk my life intercepting a package to another vampire lord, if I ever want to walk in the sun again? It sounds invigorating, please do sign me up," Astarion said sardonically.

"It's information, and the final choice is up to the two of you once you've had the chance to discuss and read over these." Shadowheart plucked a small leather-bound book from Gale's travelling-satchel and held it out. "They're research notes, and the theory he alluded to." Festé took the journal, beaming.

"We'll discuss it," they promised. "And we'll write you when we have a decision." Astarion sighed from behind the imp, and they could only assume he was rolling his eyes as well.

"In that case, we had better get going!" Gale offered a firm nod, and his hand for each of them to shake. Festé and Shadowheart hugged one another tightly, and moments later the wizard and the cleric were hurrying back up the street.

"I think we could pull this off, my love," Festé remarked, closing the door and locking it, before facing their elf once more.

"Don't start, darling-" Astarion started, but Festé rushed him and pressed a kiss to his lips. He hummed, and pulled them close against himself, winding his arms tightly around their waist. The tiefling felt him relax gradually as he dropped his forehead to their shoulder. "I'll consider it after we go through Gale's notes, my dearest. However, the idea of toppling another vampire, for fun?" He looked up, a devious smirk on his face. "Tempting, darling."

"Isn't it?" Festé returned the smirk. "I'm thinking, if the client has already paid the Guild, we could plant a decoy, and take the real ring for you. But, I would wager that Gale has something up his sleeve in that regard." They paused for several moments. "You know what that means though, Star?"

"Hmm?" The elf raised his eyebrows.

"That means we do need to train. I've gone a little soft in the past few months, and I can tell… you're stronger somehow. We should explore that strength. I need practice evading a vampire." They chuckled.

"Fine, darling. But I won't go easy on you. The tadpole suppressed a lot." He winked and began to pull them upstairs, leading them to the other spare room, where the two had been storing their armour for several months. The couple exchanged excited glances with one another as they got dressed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · "Up." Astarion commanded, "Again, darling." He raised the rapier that he had chosen to practice with, getting into ready position, and watched the tiefling struggle to their feet from the pile of snow. They laughed, standing and shaking out their shoulders, bouncing slightly on the balls of their feet. Astarion seemed to dematerialize as he slipped into the shadows once more, taking advantage of the dim lamplight in the garden. Festé concentrated, tracking his movements easily this time, and swung their shortsword backhanded when the elf reappeared on their left side. He parried easily, and when he was distracted, they sank a blow with their own rapier, arcing their body in a half-backbend. It glanced off of Astarion's shoulder when he threw it back.

"Good, love. Don't get caught unawares. You're a natural hunter. Keep going." He growled his encouragement softly, dodging and parrying each of their attacks with ease before drawing his rapier in a circle with the flick of his wrist, thrusting it where their chest had been seconds before. Festé took advantage of the opening in his defence, throwing their shoulder into his chest and knocking him down into the snow with a grunt. They swung low with the shortsword, touching it to Astarion's neck with a satisfied smirk.

"Perfect, darling," he praised. "But you wouldn't dare hesitate like this with another spawn. You'd cut their head off." He let out a chuckle, reaching up to grip their wrist and yanking them down into the snow with him before straddling their hips. The elf pointed the rapier at the tiefling's neck, angling it down and keeping the hilt roughly level with his chin. "Otherwise, they'll have you on your back in no time at all, won't they?" His voice was velvety and dangerous. Festé chuckled softly, tossing the shortsword aside carelessly.

"Ardē!" They hissed, pressing their fingertips to their elf's stomach, causing him to snarl and jump up, and they scrambled to their feet after him. "Don't worry, my love, I never fight cleanly against unfamiliar spawn."

"You damned imp," Astarion laughed loudly, grabbing a fistful of snow and spreading it across the chainmail he wore. "That was good, keep using your instincts like that. Now," he raised the rapier again, and Festé mirrored him. He stepped forward, feinting to the right, but the tiefling caught the second surprise thrust to their left thigh with a sharp clang of metal on metal, pushing the elf's weapon to the side and knocking him off-balance. They gripped his wrist with their free hand and twisted it, wrenching the sword from his hand with some effort. He caught himself in the next instant, locking his arms around his imp from behind. Astarion leaned down and pressed his lips to their neck. "Don't forget, darling, vampires will always have one more weapon than you do," he growled in their ear as they struggled in his arms. "One bite is all it takes…" he hissed, running his tongue over their exposed skin.

"You damned elf," Festé joked, shivering involuntarily. They lowered the swords slowly, letting Astarion press his fangs to their neck. "I'll submit this time, fiend."

"'Fiend'? Oh, I do like that, pet. It makes me sound like a mysterious stranger that came upon you in the night," Astarion teased, whirling them around and brushing his lips over theirs.

"I'm sure you would love that, hmm? To come upon me in the night?" Festé chuckled darkly, the elf joining in soon after.

"Shall we call it, then? And go warm each other up?" He released them, bending to pick their shortsword out of the snow. "We'll keep this up, though, mm? I find it exhilarating to spar with you, one-on-one."

The two stumbled into the house together, laughing; and the tiefling paused at the stove to light it and put the kettle on before following Astarion upstairs to undress. They caught sight of him peeling his armour off and prodding gently at the five small burns on his stomach. "Darling, you've seared your damned fingerprints into my skin." He looked up, scowling at them. "It's as if I don't have quite enough scars already, hm?"

Festé frowned, crossing the room and placing their palm against Astarion's stomach. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, my love. Hold still…" They covered the offending flesh fully with their hand, whispering, "Te curo." The elf looked on as his imp held their breath, and both watched the angry marks fade rapidly. Festé let out a sigh of relief, looking up into their elf's eyes and repeating, "I'm sorry, my love." He glanced at the creases of worry on their forehead, and down between them at his stomach, his scowl melting easily.

"Oh… I can't be angry with you, not when you pout like that," he sighed, giving them a crooked smile and ruffling their hair, pausing to trace his fingers over their neck. "Especially not when I've marked you so thoroughly; just look at all of these…" he tutted in mock disapproval, and Festé offered a sheepish smirk in return.

"There's nothing I enjoy more, my love," they stepped back, moving to take off the heavy half-plate with a soft grunt before refastening it around one of Astarion's many spare mannequins.

"Do you really mean that, darling?" his tone was sincere this time, and Festé turned to face him once more. "You don't mind all of the…" he gestured vaguely to their neck and shoulders, which bore numerous fading impressions of the elf's fangs, "The evidence?" he finished, somewhat dramatically. His question hung in the air for a moment as he finished re-lacing his shirt and adjusting it.

"Of course, I mean it. I love bearing evidence that you love me best. I do rather like marks of passion," they mused. "Why, don't they look nice on me?" The tiefling smirked widely as they passed them, making their way back down to the kitchen to silence the hissing kettle. Astarion stalked them closely, examining the back of their neck as well. The shirt they wore was cut low across the shoulders and cropped above the waist, exposing much of their rosy skin. The pale elf hummed as he watched them bend to pour the water into two mugs, noting the way the fabric slid further down their shoulder when they moved.

"They do, darling. I suppose that means I'll have to keep leaving them on you, won't I?" His tongue darted out to wet his lips, studying the way Festé's hair slipped over their shoulder in a dark curtain. They turned halfway to look at him, and he sighed contentedly.

"If you're going to keep looking at me like that, should I bother with the tea?" They laughed loudly when Astarion looked conflicted and shook his head, and set the kettle back down on the stove. He strode fluidly into the kitchen, gathering Festé up in his arms and wrapping their legs easily around his waist, not missing the opportunity to grope their ass. The stunt earned him a bite on his shoulder, and he chuckled lightly.

"You're so ferocious, darling," his voice was soft against their ear as he carried his imp back to the bedroom. "I find my very knees trembling in your presence." The elf sat firmly on the edge of the bed, and pulled his imp closely against him. They made another attempt to bite his shoulder, and he allowed it. Festé pressed their hips to his in a slow roll when he smoothed his hands up their back, dipping them under the hem of the tiefling's loose shirt. Their lips sought his neck, kissing messily over his skin before finding the hollow behind his ear, sucking at it firmly. They pulled back with a slow exhale, examining his skin and whispering, "No bruising."

Astarion snorted. "No blood, darling," he murmured, pressing his nails firmly into their back as they bit him once more, tilting his head back.

"Mn… won't stop me from trying," their voice was muffled, their hands pulling at his shirt as they nibbled along his collarbone. Astarion's hands wandered down to their hips, shifting Festé in his lap and pressing his thigh between their legs.

"Pathetic," he teased, smirking when they paused to scowl up at him. In less than a heartbeat, he had closed one hand around their jaw, jerking their chin up and pressing his own firm bite to his imp's neck. They moaned out softly in pain, and he hissed against their ear, "Leave the biting to the professional, darling." The tiefling began to struggle, pressing their hands to the elf's shoulders in an attempt to pull away, but Astarion locked his arm around their waist firmly, moving his hand from their jaw into their hair and wrenching their head back. Festé shivered as they felt the soft press of his tongue on their skin, contrasting with the threatening press of his fangs in the next moment. Astarion was content to tease them, until…

"Please…" they whispered, shifting their weight on his thigh.

"Mm… please what, darling?" he spoke nonchalantly, removing his hand from their waist to rest on their shoulder, tugging the fabric of Festé's shirt aside slowly. He smirked as he watched them squirm and glance down. Astarion dipped his fingers into their shirt, tracing them slowly down their arm, his smirk growing wider as he felt their pulse quicken under his fingertips.

"Touch me," they breathed, shrugging to try to press more firmly against the elf's hand, lifting their hips from his thigh at the same time.

"But I am, darling," he whispered innocently, tilting his head at them with a pout. His grip tightened marginally in their hair.

Festé seemed to remember their hands when he spoke, wrenching his from their shoulder and guiding it up under their shirt with a soft huff. "Touch me here," they hissed, pressing his hand over their chest. Astarion merely teased over their sternum with his fingernails, chuckling softly at their frustrated sigh. "Please, Star…"

"Use your words, darling," he murmured, tapping their chest with two fingers. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do, and where you want me to touch you." Festé's face flushed, but they threw themself forward against the elf's chest with such sudden vigour, it very nearly caught Astarion off-guard. He chuckled loudly at their relatively feeble attempt to pin him on his back, and used the tiefling's momentum to roll them over on the mattress. His hand came down to pin them by their throat, and he tutted as he kneeled over them, his legs framing their hips.

"Star…!" they gasped, struggling once again under their elf's grip.

"I said, use your words. If it's a fight you want, then you'll get one," he spoke in that velvety, dangerous tone that was altogether irresistible whenever it graced Festé's ears. They huffed out a breath, raising one hand to graze the elf's groin; and he pressed against their palm, shifting his weight to squeeze their throat more firmly before letting up again. The imp kept their palm against him, feeling the hard line of his length beneath the fabric of his trousers. Astarion allowed it for a moment, before closing his fingers around Festé's wrist and trapping it against the mattress above their head.

"I want…" they gritted out, arching their back below him, "You. I don't want to be able to walk tomorrow, because I want you to f…"

"Go on, darling. You're doing so well." Astarion gave their throat a much more gentle squeeze of encouragement, and he smiled, albeit with his fangs on display. He entertained himself for a moment as he raked his gaze over their body, watching the fabric of their shirt ride up and expose their chest to him.

"I want you to fuck me," they whispered, voice faltering as they traced the elf's hungry gaze. The imp averted their eyes in embarrassment as they noted his gaze fixated on their chest. Their words were barely audible when they continued. "Rough… I need to feel you claim me."

"Finally, darling." Astarion removed his hand from their throat, resting it beside their head as he leaned down. "I love hearing such filthy words from your lips, it's music to my pointy ears," he breathed hotly against their ear, close enough to feel it twitch softly from the attention. "Gods, it's so easy to fluster you, it's almost criminal," he chuckled softly, reaching down and pushing their shirt up fully, dipping his head to kiss slowly over their chest and noting the significant effect it had on their heart rate.

"You know what they say about… mmf, karma, Star…" the tiefling spoke between soft gasps as their elf's lips brushed over their nipple, his hand moving to cup their breast as he licked over it messily.

"We're only just getting started, and you're already a mess, pet. I would worry less about karma, and more about what I'm going to do to you." Astarion's tongue circled their nipple slowly before he continued. "I have to be sure that the next time we have friends over, you picture this every time my hand rests on your thigh under the table."

"That's what you were picturing when you-" Festé whispered, interrupting themself with a low groan as the pale elf shoved his thigh between theirs once again, sucking their nipple firmly into his mouth. He let off with a pop of his lips and looked up at them, his tongue moving slowly over one of his fangs.

"All of this and more, darling. You have no idea."

"Show me, then," Festé pleaded, reaching up and tangling their fingers in their elf's curls, whimpering as they ground their hips slowly.

"Ah-ah. Show me how desperate you are by ruining these, little love," he countered, trailing his hand down to the waistband of Festé's underwear and tugging at them with one finger, letting them snap against their hip. Festé pulled his hair roughly, and Astarion leaned up and brushed his lips over theirs chastely. The tiefling closed the distance, kissing him forcefully as they obeyed his command, rutting their hips against his thigh. He tightened his grip on their wrist instinctively, and the tiefling moaned into his mouth as his free hand wandered back to their chest to cup their breast once more. The elf pinched their nipple firmly, rolling it between his finger and thumb. Festé gasped when the pleasure of the act bordered on pain.

"I'm…" they panted when they broke the kiss, burying their face into their elf's neck as they kept their hips moving, shuddering as the tight heat in their belly began to spread, coursing down their legs and through their chest. "I…"

"I know, you poor little thing. It really doesn't take much to push you over the edge, now, does it?" Astarion purred into his imp's ear, and they whimpered as he pulled off their nipple roughly. He dragged his fingernails down the length of Festé's stomach, teasing them through the fabric of their panties. "Now, why don't you come for me, you pathetic little imp…" his voice was gravelly as he bit slowly down their neck, threatening to break skin as he pressed his fangs directly against their pulse point. "Mn… so I can show you how easily dominated you are by me…" he pressed the heel of his palm to their stomach, massaging just below Festé's navel, and they broke under his touch, writhing as their inner muscles clenched around nothing. Astarion felt them twitching against his thigh, a chuckle coming from deep within his chest. He rested his forehead against the tiefling's, slipping his hand between their thighs and groping them through the now-soaked fabric with a pleasured hum. Festé squirmed when he pinched the waistband of their panties in two fingers and pulled the fabric taut against them.

Astarion sat up suddenly, pushing the tiefling's thighs apart with an air of urgency, and he murmured, "Show me, darling." He did not smile, instead slapping the inside of their left thigh impatiently when Festé struggled to move. They shakily hooked their thumbs in their waistband, shimmying out of their underwear and depositing them in the elf's outstretched hand. They shivered as Astarion finally shot them an approving smirk. "Show me," he repeated, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow. The imp swallowed and spread their legs hesitantly, a blush rising up their neck as they glanced down at his hand, balled into a tight fist around their underwear. One of their hands travelled down, and they met his eyes, teasing their fingers through their own mess before spreading themself open. Astarion nodded, smoothing his free hand along the inside of their thigh and gripping it firmly. "Good pet. It's as if you read my mind." He reached up, dragging his thumb over their bottom lip. "Wouldn't you agree that you would look so very precious with a gag in your mouth while I take my pleasure in your body?" Festé swallowed deeply, frozen for an instant before nodding. "Open for me," the elf whispered, tapping their chin with his thumb.

Festé lifted their head with great effort, parting their lips and allowing Astarion to push the ruined fabric as deep into their mouth as they could handle. They shivered again as he ghosted his hand down their throat, and lowered their head to the mattress once more. They tried to reach for the elf's trousers, but his hands gripped their wrists instantaneously, pinning them over the tiefling's head as he pressed his weight against them, grinding slowly against their soaked cunt.

"Not yet," he hissed softly, pressing his thigh deftly under one of their own and moving it up the mattress, forcing them to spread their legs even more. "I want to take all of the pleasures of your body, pet. Be good for me." Astarion chuckled darkly against their neck, and the imp squirmed once underneath him, giving him all the invitation he needed. He moved painstakingly, pressing his fangs into their neck in the most agonizingly pleasurable way. Festé began to shake involuntarily under his body, and the elf rested his full weight on top of them, his slow grinds eventually falling in rhythm with the slow sucks. Festé let every stray whimper rip from their throat, muffled only slightly from the gag. Astarion brought them to the very edge, their vision starting to shimmer and blur along the edges.

Festé groaned loudly through the gag, which was growing steadily more soaked by the second; and the elf pulled away, leaving their neck a bloody mess as he sat up with a harsh sigh. Astarion's eyebrows furrowed with effort as he unlaced his trousers and pushed them off, not bothering with his shirt. The tiefling looked up at him as he kneeled between their legs, needing only to pat his thigh once before they struggled to sit up. He circled them in his arms and pulled them the rest of the way, guiding their hips up before pushing them firmly to his lap. "Now that you're weakened and pliant for me, darling…" he purred, voice rough with need, "I think it's only fair that you're further reminded who you belong to." He brushed their hair back tenderly with one hand, shooting them a bloodstained smile. "Hasn't it been so long? By now, you've probably forgotten how I feel inside you, hmm?"

They nodded weakly, playing along and rolling their hips slowly, their clit kissing his length lightly as they moved. The imp kneeled up as Astarion pulled them closer, and he slid into them in one fluid movement, pushing past the tight ring of muscles as he forced them back down into his lap. Festé couldn't hold back a howl as the pain momentarily overwhelmed them, chest heaving as they panted through their nose. Without letting them adjust, Astarion gripped their hips tightly and moaned appreciatively against their ear as he made them move. The tiefling locked their arms around his neck, and he chuckled softly, nipping at their earlobe as they found leverage, pushing up on their knees.

"Go on, darling. I've got you. Let me…" he reached up, plucking the gag from their mouth and tossing their underwear aside for the moment. "Let me hear you." His hands found their ass, and his touch was momentarily tender before giving them a firm smack. Festé twitched in his lap, and he sighed as he felt the repurcussive squeeze around his length, groping them firmly and steadying their now-jerky movements as they rode him. "Let me hear you," he repeated, growling the command against their neck. His imp trembled in his arms, letting out a shaky moan when he held them down firmly in his lap, and he smirked when they tried their best to stifle it. They choked off into silent surprise as he ground his hips up slowly, his grip somehow tightening further as he wrapped one arm over their back, molding their body to his. Astarion set a punishing rhythm with his hips in the next instant, leaving Festé gasping for breath and pressing their fingertips into his back.

"H…hurts, Star…" they managed, spreading their thighs and sinking down on him further, and he slowed only slightly as he pulled back to look at them, moving one hand to catch their jaw as he studied the tiefling's face. Their mouth hung open, eyes half-lidded, and a sheen of sweat was present on their forehead. They let out a snarling moan as he pressed into them deeply, his tip rubbing against their inner wall.

"Do you want to stop, my pet?" Astarion's expression was serious but composed. "Or would you have me continue to ruin you?" He finished in a husky whisper. The tiefling shook their head to the first question, and nodded to the second, tilting their head so that the pale elf was cupping their cheek as they met his eyes. "You like how much it hurts?" Another nod, followed by an incomprehensible moan. He stroked his thumb along their cheek reassuringly. "Good, darling. I'm not nearly finished with you."

He gripped their cheeks, moving his free hand to the small of their back to keep them pressed against him, his thrusts into them becoming languid and drawn out, but still firm. The head of his cock struck their inner wall every second or third thrust. Festé let slip a tortured moan, tears building in their eyes when they gripped Astarion's shoulders firmly. The tiefling blinked them away, sending them trickling down their cheeks; and they gave in to the heat building again in their abdomen, feeling it twist once again behind their navel as the elf's calculated movements brought them to their edge once more. He smirked, thumbing away the tears on their cheeks before tapping it once against their lips.

"Star, can I…" They tilted their body forward, resting more of their weight against his chest. He removed his hand from their back, resting it on the bed behind him as he leaned back. Astarion's answer was clear in his action, as he moved his other hand from their cheek to grip the hair at the nape of their neck, pulling them forward slowly. Festé sighed in relief, grinding down slowly into his lap, their legs starting to twitch as they framed his own. Astarion pulled their hair, and they were close enough to brush his lips over theirs; but he did not kiss them, instead favouring the tension and heat that was building as Festé moved. His chest rose as he inhaled their scent, leaning closer. Their end came as a chorus of sobs and muffled moans as they pressed their face into his neck in return. Astarion was gracious, allowing them to ride it out, clawing down their back before smoothing his hand down to the base of their tail.

"Very good, darling," his praise was a muted purr, "I want you to capture this very moment in your mind, and I would like you to hold it dearly whenever someone else dares to rake their eyes or hands over you in public…" he chuckled fiendishly, pushing Festé easily to their back, whose chest was heaving soft sobs as he blanketed them with his body. He drew their thighs around his waist, continuing in a growl against their ear, "I want you to think of me, laying the most carnal claim on your body and soul; and how you sob and beg for it." Festé hiccuped softly and nodded, turning their head to the side and panting against their elf's cheek, their fingers kneading gently down his back. Astarion's arms came to cradle them as he brushed his nose over theirs, his eyes boring deeply into theirs as he whispered, "And I want you to think about how eagerly and completely your body accepts my own. Every. Single. Time. We are together." He pressed his hips forward, rocking into them and punctuating each of his last words with a heavy breath. The imp stared, transfixed, into his eyes, their sobs quieting for the moment as Astarion leaned his head to the side, his pace growing gradually faster. Festé reached up, reading something more complex in his eyes, some question he was chewing over privately, and they knotted their fingertips in his curls, pulling him into a passionate, messy kiss. The pair moaned softly in unison, and Astarion's hips grew heavier, rutting firmly against the imp's before he let out an exasperated sigh through his nose, licking into their mouth as he began slamming into them roughly. He broke the kiss first.

"My dear, sweet pet…" he whispered harshly, sitting up halfway and resting his palm against their groin, thumb teasing circles over their clit as he kept up the bruising pace. "I want you to remember this part the most." He tapped his temple with two fingers on his free hand before fisting the fabric of their shirt once more, pushing it up to expose their chest. Festé blushed deeply, starting to shake again as Astarion forced their body to heat up under his icy hands once again. He smirked widely and snapped his hips forward, pushing them over the edge again easily. Leisurely, he pulled back, slipping out of their wet heat with a groan, gripping himself and rolling his hips to his hand, his length rubbing against the tiefling's overstimulated clit.

"A…Ah! Astarion…!" Festé writhed below him, the stifled sobs returning as they soaked the insides of their thighs, a tendril of shame creeping up the back of their neck as they clenched around nothing and ruined the sheets in one fell swoop. Their breath hitched, and Astarion gazed down at their exposed breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, eyes hooded when he met theirs again. The wet sounds of his length sliding through his curled fingers only added to the ambience as he spoke.

"I want you to remember this, darling. How it feels when you're empty," he gritted out, struggling to keep his voice even. "And how it feels when you're full…" The elf pressed back into them, as before, in one fluid movement. His own breath stuttered noticeably as their muscles clenched around his length. He ground into them with obvious difficulty, moving one hand to trap theirs against the mattress, and pushing his fingers between theirs as he bent over them. He sighed out a moan of relief as his cock twitched inside them. Festé nearly choked, body taut on the bed as they felt the convulsions within, echoing them by squeezing their elf's hand and panting when Astarion rolled his hips through the aftershocks. Their body relaxed gradually as they relished in the warm slick, now leaking from the place where the pair's bodies were joined.

There were a few moments of silence, punctuated only by heavy breathing, before Astarion bent his head, pecking over his imp's chest tenderly. He paused and inhaled softly against their sternum before peppering their breasts with soft kisses, releasing their hand in favour of massaging over their hips and to knead up their sides with his knuckles. The pale elf came to lay over them once more, reaching up to wipe away the stray tears on their cheeks with his fingertips, before tilting their head up and planting a kiss in the middle of Festé's forehead. The imp let out a relieved whimper when Astarion gathered them up in his arms, helping them sit up in his lap as he straightened up. He pressed his lips again to their forehead, rocking them gently and nuzzling into their hair. Festé wrapped their arms around him, surrendering once again as he stroked over their back, the cool touch calming against their heated skin.

"You did so well, darling," Astarion murmured into their hair, giving them a tight squeeze before drawing them back by the shoulders to look them over. "It's customary, I think, to say that I'm very proud of you, isn't it?" he chuckled softly when his imp cracked a small smile. "I thought so," he whispered, drawing them close again. "You're such a sight to behold, my dearest. How do you feel?"

Festé swallowed, whispering hoarsely, "Good, my love. I feel… worn out, but excellent. I just…" they trailed off, leaning into the elf's chest and relaxing easily under his touch.

"Hmm? What is it?" Astarion asked, his palm resting for a moment on the small of their back.

"I'm starving, my love," they peeked up at him from his shoulder. "But I don't think I can get up." He shot them an amused look, slowly lifting them from his lap and pushing the tiefling to their back with a theatrical sigh. He leaned down to peck at their lips, patting their stomach.

"Such a needy mortal you are, darling. Making me fuck you into oblivion, and fetch you supper," he teased, smiling warmly all the same. "I expect you to keep the bed warm for me," his voice was soft, glancing back at them as he got to his feet swiftly, deciding to bother only with one of the linen robes next on top of the dresser as he padded out of the bedroom. Festé lay back, blinking slowly as they listened to Astarion making up a plate for them. The sounds grew distant within minutes as they dozed, rolling slowly to their side.

Some time later, they woke with a start as the elf lay his palm on their shoulder. He had set a mug of tea on the nightstand, along with a plate of bread, cheese, and cured sausage. Astarion was perched on the edge of the bed, starting to stroke through their hair and scowling playfully down at them. "Oh come now, I didn't wear you out that much, did I?" He removed his shirt and sidled into bed with them, pulling the duvet and sheets tightly around them both. The tiefling looked blearily at him as he lay on his side, raising his eyebrows and pointing to the plate absently with the leather-bound notebook he had picked up. Festé smiled while he flicked it open and began to read. They took the mug first, sipping the harsh herbal tea slowly before resting the plate between Astarion's thigh and their own. They nibbled quietly, leaning up on their elbow and starting to read Gale's notes upside down.

"You're really considering this plan?" Their eyebrows furrowed slightly when they glanced up to his face. He nodded, turning the page and smirking to himself.

"Of course. I still think we should be prepared for the worst. But, once upon a time, I made a silent promise that I would try my hand at living." He looked up at them through his eyelashes. "I do intend to keep my promise."

a/n: as always! to the folks who continue to support this fic, i honestly.. i'm in love with you at this point. but only platonically! hahaha

i told myself i wouldn't make this chapter as long but fuck my baka life, y'all can have some more filthy smut as a treat. ♡

also please, if you haven't already, go check out all of mantis' blogs (link at top). their photography is fucking iconic, and you need to follow them.

#.fic #fic: bonding.#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion acunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #spawn!astarion x named tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #i'm all pointy ears #oc: festé

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sweetflanfiction · 9 months

Text

Second Chances - Part 7

Universe: Read Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur x reader

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about 1899 is from google, so inacuracies will be plenty. The reader is on the older side, and identifies as a female. Header Gif by @miyku

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

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Arthur grabbed the brush for the horse looking at the woman walking away, followed by the pup, Mac. He let his gaze linger for a moment watching her play with the dog.

They were not keeping him here, there were no shackles, nothing held him down, there seemed to be no second intentions towards him. Both were honest: You work and stay, or you go.

He walked over to the horse, stroking the soft fur, and started on his task of brushing him.

“Darling?” He whispered under his breath. A humourless chuckle escaped him and the horse whined. “Yeah, I don’t like that one either, friend. But if I name you, you're mine and if you're mine you gotta behave. Do what I tell you and all that. ‘Cause I can get you better, I can make you stronger, but you gotta trust me alright?”

The horse snorted, raising his front hooves and kicking the dirt. The cowboy took it as a yes.

“Alright boy. Let's see. When we was at St. Dennis, I read a newspaper article about this young feller who was doing magic tricks, escaping handcuffs and all sorts of contraptions. How 'bout I name you after him, since you’re so keen on escaping huh? It’s much better than ‘Darling’ I tell you that much.”

The horse blew air through his nose and moved his head gently while the moved through his fur.

“Alright then, boy. I name you Houdini. How about that?”

Arthur chuckled at the horse and brushed him. Thinking of St. Dennis made him think of the Brants' conversation. He had tried to keep relaxed when the word ‘job’ came up. Trying not to show his inquisitiveness. It placed some shadow of doubt on this whole ‘good and trusting’ issue. However, until this point they had done nothing to make him distrust them so he would wait.

“My dear daughter told me you was gonna be responsible for this gentleman’s well being.” Arthur looked towards the main stable door and found Albert standing there, leaning into the frame. His figure was imposing. Broad shoulders, sturdy forearms, the build of a man who did some heavy lifting around the farm. And yet, the feeling Arthur got from being around him was far from overbearing.

“Yes, sir. If that’s alright with you, I think I can help.” Arthur nodded and continued brushing the horse.

“Oh it’s fine with me. The less I have to deal with him the better. You know how many sleepless nights I’ve had because of him?"

The man walked closer, moving his hand slowly to pat the horse's nose. Arthur was expecting Houdini to buck or become stressed, but he kept still, even though the older man seemed to be angry at the beast.

"Ain't that right boy? You gave me some frights didn't you?" Albert lowered his gaze gently to the animal and Arthur softened his gaze.

This was just a father worried that one of his own was sick and he couldn't help him. His words were not angry or hateful. Just like Dutch did at some point in his life. Arthur looked down, trying to get rid of the thoughts that threatened to burst through. It still hurt. The betrayal. The irrefutable evidence that his own father figure tossed him aside.

"I'll do my best to keep him happy and healthy." Arthur nodded.

"Good. And for the love of all that is holy in this world ... Change his god damned name...Who names a stallion Darling…And then shoots him…kids these days, swear to God."

"I will, sir."

"And don't call me sir. You ain't in the military. Albert is fine." "Now come on. I smell sausages and eggs in the kitchen. It ain't much, but it's filling."

Arthur thought about Pearson's stew and how everyone complained about the taste. Even though he had done it at some point, everyone was thankful for the man who kept them fed. But the truth was, at some point, his stew started to tasted all the same. This was not because of the cook's lack of talent, but because the ingredients were, in fact, the same.

The smell coming from the house was different, from his memories' stew. He smelled of eggs cooked in grease and sausages. He closed his eyes for a moment, sniffing. Arthur's mouth watered, people would have thought he was heading for a feast.

The man sat down at the kitchen table while you served them a mix of eggs and sausage, before sitting down yourself. As they both exhaled a content sound, you smiled.

"I reckon I deserve an award for doing the most today." You said in an attempt to sound like a spoiled lady, looking at your father who just gave you a mocking annoyed face.

"I shall reward you with an afternoon of stocking the hay and milking the cows." Albert said, holding his fork up like a king's scepter as you groaned, rolling your eyes.

"Fine…I guess that'll do."

Arthur kept his eyes on the plate, only peeking at the pair as they bickered. It was innocent, lighthearted fun and he missed that. The last days at camp, this type of discussion would probably have led to someone getting a punch to the nose or even shot. But there were times when this was common among the gang.

Something snapped in front of his eyes and he saw your smirking face looking at him, your fingers in front of his face.

"I also believe Mr. Callahan should be awarded."

"I say the bed he sleeps in is reward enough." Albert said, raising an eyebrow. Once again, his tone was light and non-judgemental.

"It is. Just give me some eggs and a mattress and it'll be enough." Arthur nodded, still uncomfortable with joking around with them.

"Here I am thinking we could allow him a bath…" you got up from your seat and grabbed the plates, as his head jerked upwards at the mention of a bath. "I guess eating and sleeping is enough for the man."

"Judging by the way his neck snapped up when you mentioned a bath I'd say otherwise." Albert joked and helped with the dishes.

"Fine." You looked back at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief and your lips smiling. "I guess if it's not too troubling for you, good sir, you can take a bath."

"It ain't no trouble at all." Arthur grabbed his plate and walked to the dishwater bucket. "I...Well, I'm just grateful that you keep giving me things and asking for nothing."

"You're working for your keep. Taking care of land ain't easy. If we want to keep living the way we do, we have to put our backs into it." Albert nodded and the girl hummed.

Arthur thought back at how those words, said by someone else, say Dutch, would have sounded dishonest. Although, it may have been because the work he referenced was dishonest.

"Oh! What did Doc Brant say about the job?"

His eyes looked up and he felt his muscles tense. That single word had such an impact on him that he didn't even know he was holding his breath until Albert spoke again.

"Cattle convoy." The older man said, but Arthur didn't blink.

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@photo1030 :: @sylum :: @marislittlereadingcorner :: @rratman ::@clevergirl74

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction

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