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#seeing astarion smile so much is something
justporo · 14 hours
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Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
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As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
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mistystepmoonbeam · 10 hours
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Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?
Word count: 2K
A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??
Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.
“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”
Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.
Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.
“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”
“We?” you repeat.
Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 
Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  
Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.
“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”
You’re not even sure what you’re asking.
“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”
You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.
You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.
“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”
“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”
You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.
“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.
“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”
“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”
Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 
“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”
You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”
You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.
“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”
You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?
“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.
“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”
You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 
You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?
Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”
You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  
When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  
The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  
When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.
The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  
“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.
Without you.
Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  
“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.
He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”
Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”
His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”
You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”
Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  
“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”
You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”
His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”
The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 
“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”
“What will you do when they leave you?”
The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”
You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”
“And then some,” he answers.  
You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  
“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”
In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”
“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  
“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”
Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 
“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”
You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”
“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.
“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”
Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  
“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”
“All in good time,” Gale answers.  
“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 
You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.
You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”
This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 
Taglist:
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westruun · 8 months
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Let's do it your way then. As long as it's with you.
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cleric4vampire · 25 days
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Do you love me enough that I may be weak with you? - Alain de Botton
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fangswbenefits · 5 months
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Book
Summary: Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Breeding kink. P in V. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Creampie. Overestimulation. Cumplay.
Word count: 1.7k
It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself on your back, knees bent and legs spread apart as Astarion's hand worked diligently in between them.
“You know… I came across this book in Rivington."
Two fingers rubbed slow yet measured circles between your slick folds. His dexterity truly shined through in these moments, as he lured you closer and closer to the edge of your sanity.
“A book?” 
“A most interesting book.”
His lips pressed lingering kisses across the exposed side of your neck, and you struggled to keep your eyes fixed on his hand.
He adored it when you watched him deliver unprecedented pleasure, and the sight was positively maddening with your wetness coating both his fingers as lewd sounds echoed in your ears.
The cluster of pillows strategically placed behind you aided you to take in the view more clearly, and you couldn't help but moan softly.
Suddenly, you jolted at the feeling of one fang raking across your sensitive skin. “What of it?”
“Do you really want to know, darling?”
His purring voice alone could edge you so effectively that you had to grip the bedsheets under you, balling your fists and silently praying to the gods above to help you stay grounded.
“Yes…” you moaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut.
Astarion quickly bfound your pulse point and planted an open-mouthed kiss.
Just bite me… 
That would surely be your undoing, but he merely chuckled and you felt him smile.
“It spoke of dhampirs - half-vampires.”
Gods…
The implication that dangled from his silky words wasn't particularly subtle and you found yourself clenching around nothing.
“It is not an easy feat, but with the right amount of dedication and… perseverance,” he punctuated each word with a roll of his fingers, drawing soft whimpers from you. “... I'm quite certain we can explore it.”
You clenched again, and your legs faltered, almost dropping from the chill that ran down your spine.
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No, no, my sweet. Keep your focus and your legs up high for me.”
Astarion thrived on your pleasure and basked in your praises.
He was good.
He knew he was good.
And he wanted you to show him.
Stroking his ego was a sure way to get his complete devotion.
The throbbing between your legs intensified tenfold and you could see it swollen and peeking through your folds as he dragged his drenched fingers all the way up to your lower abdomen.
“What do you say?” He purred in your ear, massaging you tenderly.
Another agonising clench.
You parted your lips in search of a reply, but the words died in your mouth at the sight of his fingers spreading your wetness across your skin.
“Well? Will you let me breed you?”
His crude words had you gripping the fabric in your hands tighter, and you wondered how much longer until it finally tore.
“Astarion…”
Slowly but surely, you felt something prickling at the skin on the back of your hand.
It was slightly cool and you needn't need to look to know his cock was leaking precum.
Just for you.
The liquid began dribbling down your skin as he began pressing soft kisses along your jawline.
Silently, he grabbed your hand until your fingers instinctively wrapped around his hardening cock.
And then he hissed.
“Tighter,” he urged, placing his hand atop yours to squeeze down hard. “You're tighter than this…” he finished with a sigh.
This time, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you rolled your hips in desperation.
He fucked your hand slowly, occasionally bringing your thumb to swipe across his tip, earning delicious and urgent moans from him.
Your breathing quickened and you felt the mattress shift under you as he carefully slid his cock from your grip, positioning himself on top of you.
“Eyes on me.”
You took a deep and shaky breath and your gaze dropped to witness an elegant finger disappear inside you.
A swift gasp escaped your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in an approving smile. “So eager…”
You were mesmerised by how he so easily slid a second one, the wet sounds nearly doing it for you.
He shifted until his cool lips were on yours, nipping at the lower one with the razor-like fang, easily drawing blood and gently suckling on the bruised flesh. 
Your back arched when he removed both fingers from you before pressing his cock at your entrance.
By this point, you were too soaked to offer any resistance as he slowly sank into you.
You broke the kiss first, greedily looking in between your bodies just so you could watch his cock slide in and out, bulging veins glistening with your wetness.
“Enjoying the view, darling?”
You bit down on your lip, tasting your own blood as you nodded through half-hooded eyes. 
Countless sweet rolls of his hips pushed you further and further along the inevitable precipice, and the familiar coiling and throbbing had your mouth drop open, unable to rein in your spilling whimpers.
He dipped his head to glide his tongue across your lower lip, both his arms caging you in and allowing him to angle his hips so he could sink fully into you.
You were visibly pulsing, your folds parted slightly, and his gaze soon followed yours.
A guttural grunt rumbled in his throat. “Let go, darling… and let me feel you tightening around me.”
You gripped his arms, bracing yourself for the impending wave of overwhelming bliss that took over your entire body, and through gasps and pants and moans, you plunged down the spiral of bliss.
A distant groan from Astarion was heard as your vision blurred, powerful contractions rippling through your lower half.
He was mumbling something, but you couldn't make out a single word, far too lost in your high to focus on anything else.
You felt his lips on your neck and you threw your head back, offering it fully to him.
As the waves of your contractions finally subsided, you came back to your senses, trying hard to even out your laboured breathing.
He was still buried deep inside you.
Had he come with you?
The answer came when his fangs began prodding the skin along your pulse point, as if barely containing himself.
He had yet to reach his peak.
“Can you give me another one?”
Your eyes widened and you struggled to form coherent words. “I… I don't… know.”
He brought one hand to grip your knee, pushing your leg against your torso, and spreading you further apart for him.
The pace he had set was contained and slow, a constant reminder that he yearned for his own release.
His tongue darted out to swipe across your flushed skin, and you turned your head, granting him easier access.
“Use your words.”
You swallowed, gasping from how oversensitive you suddenly felt from the constant friction in between your legs.
“Please…” you could only bring yourself to plead. 
His fangs taunted the fragile barrier of your skin, but not with enough pressure to draw blood.
“Use. Your. Words.” He rasped impatiently, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.
You brought your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch. 
“Bite me…”
The sharp sting had you grip him hard, his hardened nipples digging into the palms of your hands.
As soon as he got to control the flow of your blood, he quickly matched the rolls of his hips with each mouthful of warm liquid he downed.
Your senses were full of him.
Filled with him.
Dragging on hand to settle on his throat, you moaned as you felt him under your palm, eagerly swallowing your blood.
It didn't take long before his skin began to heat up against yours, and you could almost swear you felt his cock hardening even more inside you.
His pace didn't falter. If anything, he was simply indulging in the newfound vigour that only your blood coursing through his body could provide.
Wanting to further tease him, you circled his nipple with the pad of your thumb, earning an approving grunt.
The crescendo of pleasure began to throb deep within you with each passing moment, and you felt him take one of your hands in his, dragging it down to settle where his body connected with yours.
He slid out just enough for your fingers to trace along the bulging and pulsing veins that slithered around his cock.
He quickly withdrew from your neck with a low, rumbling groan, his handsome face hovering yours, droplets of blood dripping from his lips onto yours, which you quickly swiped clean with your tongue, tasting the metallic aftertaste.
You kept teasing his nipple, feeding your own pleasure from how responsive he was.
Astarion was about to come undone, and you realised that having your blood dripping down his chin and neck, was enough to catapult you steadily yet rapidly into the heights of your own pleasure.
Your eyes watched his face twist beautifully as he reached his peak, mouth dropping agape in a raging growl that made you shudder.
Under the touch of your fingers, you felt the underside of his cock spasm rhythmically as he emptied himself inside you.
It was too much.
You felt some of his cum overflowing and staining your fingers, and you immediately dragged them to the pulsing swell between your folds, coating it in the warm liquid and gasping as the violent wave of bliss had you contracting around him.
Astarion buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cursed and whimpered and pleaded for you to have mercy on him.
You truly wished you could grant him such relief, but you were far too gone to be of any comfort as both of you rode out your peak.
With a final grunt from him and a moan from you, he slumped against you, cock still buried deep.
You pressed a hand to the back of his head, slipping your fingers along his damp and soft curls, cradling him in your embrace.
“Just so we're clear,” you began in between pants. “What are the chances of this actually happening?”
He didn't reply right away, instead pressing his lips to the bite marks on your neck, cleaning up the mess.
“Not that high, I reckon?” You managed to chuckle, raking your fingers along his scalp.
“Not high at all.”
Just as you had suspected.
“But we're so used to turning the impossible into possible, that I can't see why this should be any different.”
Oh.
Oh.
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A/N: I'm... sorry.... hahaha
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fandom-go-round · 6 months
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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3
Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love
Astarion:
            He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.
Gale:
            He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.
Halsin:
            Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.  
Karlach:
            She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.
Lae’zel:
Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.
Shadowheart:
            Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.
Wyll:
            You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 7 months
Note
can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺
maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~
She Looks Breathtaking
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pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.
warnings : none :)
authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)
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“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 
You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.
Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”
“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 
Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 
“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.
“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.
You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”
“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 
When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 
So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.
“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 
When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.
Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”
“What?” 
“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 
He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 
He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  
Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 
“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 
“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.
You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.
“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 
“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 
“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 
“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.
“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 
He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 
The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 
You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 
“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 
“Could you humor me?”
“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 
“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 
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yangcherie · 5 months
Text
bathing.
𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).
𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.
𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?
𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.
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“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”
Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.
They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.
It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.
The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.
“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”
A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”
“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”
Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.
Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”
(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)
Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.
“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.
“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”
Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.
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You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.
Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.
You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?
(You hope so.)
Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.
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A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.
The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.
They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.
“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”
Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.
Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.
“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.
“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”
“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”
As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.
The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.
Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.
“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”
They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.
“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”
Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!
“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”
“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.
“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.
You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.
Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.
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aerynwrites · 8 months
Text
Longing
Halsin x Fem!Reader
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A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.
Part 2
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The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.
The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.
“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”
The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.
You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.
“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”
Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.
“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.
“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”
You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”
The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”
You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.
You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”
Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.
“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.
Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”
You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”
You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.
And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.
“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.
His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.
“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.
Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.
———
The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.
You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.
But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.
And he flirted with you.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.
Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.
You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.
More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.
Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.
You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.
Indulge, for once.
You want to. Gods do you want that.
You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he’d no doubt whisper against your ear.
You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.
Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.
Others. Plural.
And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.
Not until now.
You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.
You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.
Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.
“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”
You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.
You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”
Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.
“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”
You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.
———
The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.
But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.
“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.
You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.
“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”
The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”
You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”
Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”
His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.
“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”
His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.
He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.
“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.
Right?
Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“
You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.
“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.
His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.
“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”
Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.
“Can I kiss you, my heart?”
Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.
You nod. “Please-“
The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.
It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.
Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.
Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.
He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.
You’re breathless.
Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.
“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.
“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.
Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.
“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.
Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.
“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.
You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.
You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.
Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.
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eff-plays · 8 months
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The way Astarion reacts depending on how you compliment him in the mirror scene (I have no interest in insulting him so I won't be covering that here, have fun though!) drives me fucking insane.
"I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see."
And you get two types of responses. First, your choices for compliments are
Strong, piercing eyes.
The creases when you laugh.
Pick the first, and he's pleased. "Go on," he says, sounding very seductive. You're giving him exactly what he wants, and he's encouraging it.
Pick the second, and he gets upset. He's an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother! You can do better than that. Even if you meant it as a compliment (I know my Tav definitely did), he doesn't seem to take it that way.
Your second options are
That dangerous smile.
The way your hair curls around your ears.
Once again, the first one pleases him, and he even praises your efforts. Very good. Now finish the scene and tell him he's beautiful.
But if you say the second, he gets exasperated. This is meant to be flattery, not poetry. Just tell him he's beautiful and we can call it a day, he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. He doesn't need to hear this crap, just tell him what he wants and fuck off.
Of course, it doesn't matter how you get to this point, and every dialogue option at the end of the scene nets you the same amount of approval. If you call him beautiful, it's +1. Call someone else beautiful, it's +1. If you ask whether he just wants shallow praise (aka don't call him beautiful), you get +1. So this is me pulling this out of my ass I guess.
I always choose to call him beautiful becuase 1) he is and 2) my Tav thinks so too and would oblige him if he asked for it that directly.
But I am obsessed with the different routes you can take to get to this point and what they imply.
Strong, piercing eyes and dangerous smile pleases him more outwardly, but doesn't actually affect the outcome. He's satisfied and confident with these compliments. They confirm what he's trying to project into the world, what he aspires to have and to be.
The creases when he laughs? The hair curling around his ears? Those are things he can't control, can't use against someone else. But he asked to be seen, and if this is what Tav sees, then what does that mean for him?
Why are they complimenting his laugh lines? Why are they speaking poetry at him? Why are they seeing things he has no control over, and why are they revealing them to him?
He doesn't want shallow praise. Questioning this nets approval, and giving it to him doesn't increase approval. What he wants is assurance that what he's trying to be is what the world sees, that he's in control.
And if you actually act as a mirror, point out the things unique to him that you see, he gets uncomfortable, because you're showing a reflection of someone he thinks he's not, of someone he has no control over. And that's scary, even if it's supposedly complimentary.
Because what's scarier than losing control?
But then, compared to how genuinely upset he seems when you insult him (I looked these up on YT for context), the laugh lines and hair curls are still accepted as compliments. So what does he think when Tav says these things?
They see past his piercing eyes and dangerous smile. They see something else that they like even more, things he's not aware of or doesn't appreciate as much. What does that feel like, to cultivate such a perfect image of oneself for the purposes of seducing and tricking others, and then be stumped when someone walks past all that and points out something entirely different that they noticed and found endearing?
Do you do him a favor, and tell him you see only what he wants to be? Or do you speak the truth, and show him what he actually is? Which one is better? Which one is worse?
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feyascorner · 3 months
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When you tell Astarion that your favorite feature of his are his wrinkles---the smile lines in particular---he nearly faints on the spot, jaw-dropping in utter disbelief as he stares at you in horror.
"I do not have wrinkles."
"You also can't see yourself."
"I know enough to know I'm a vampire! An immortal being! Aging, is below me, and I'll remain forever youthful while everyone else develops those wretched creases."
Despite his words, his finger reaches to rub at his skin inquisitively, as if he's feeling for any imperfections. It's cute, you think. He doesn't seem to agree.
Snorting, you roll your eyes playfully. "You asked me what physical aspect I liked about you most. You have your answer."
"Yes, something beautiful."
"It is beautiful."
"Darling," he says, squinting. "Nobody thinks of wrinkles when asked what they seek in a partner. Haven't you seen Jaheira put all those herbs on her face while our younger companions sleep blissfully beside her? The price of time, they call it."
"You're not young either."
He gasps, feigning offense. "I am--physically, that is."
You sigh, shrugging as you reach for your brush on the bedside drawer, ignoring his helpless tugs to bring you back to bed. "Fine then. I like your eyes."
"Well now it doesn't feel as sincere."
You deadpan, whipping your head around to shoot him a tired glare, but he's already broken out into a grin. Wordlessly, he sits up, plucking the brush out of your hands and shifting so you're situated practically on his lap. Slowly, he begins to brush the knots out of your bedridden hair, and you stare out the window, basking in his presence. His hands feel soft as they brush against your shoulder.
It's nice to indulge in moments like this from time to time.
The peaceful silence is broken as he sets down the brush.
"What about it do you find so alluring?" he asks, pooling your hair into one of his palms. He reaches for the string loosely hanging around his wrist with the other. "Other than the fact that I wear it flawlessly."
"They're easier to see when you're smiling," you mumble. "Your smile's always been a charm of yours, as fake as it was when we first met."
He pauses momentarily, only resuming to tie your hair a split second later. "And now?"
"It's a real smile," you reply. "So I like it."
He blinks.
Then, Astarion pushes your hair to one shoulder, leaning to rest his chin on the crook of your shoulder. "...I didn't realize there was such a sentiment in your answer."
"Will you stop complaining about looking old now?"
"I can't guarantee that, even if all the gods above were to will it," he grins, and it earns a stifled laugh on your part. "But...I suppose I don't despise the answer as much..."
You turn your head a tad, luring his face closer to yours with a finger on his chin. "I wouldn't be so sure. I'm very convincing, I hear."
"Are you now?"
You nod, holding either side of his face in your palms now. "If I must convince you of the beauty I see in you, then I will."
He kisses the inside of your hand. "I'm sure you will, darling."
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frantic-fiction · 2 months
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Tension 18+
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Pic: littlelovelore
Astarion x f!reader
Summary: During a solo mission, Astarion takes the opportunity to indulge in some "depraved carnal lust".
Warnings: 18+ MDNI Slight enemies to lovers, sex bent over a desk, sex with clothes on, mild choking, rough sex, reader handles her crush like a fifth grader (by being mean) Astarion is his smug self
Word Count: 3.2k
Masterlist
Back-to-back posts brought to you by Bree's insomnia...Enjoy!
"Do you want me to do it?" Astarion smugly asks, flicking his wrist sharply, sending a dagger into the wood beam before him. He's leaning against the cracked wall of the tunnel. A condescending smile stretches across his pale lips.
"Shut the fuck up!" You snap, twisting the lockpick violently, it's stuck on something, and it is pissing you off. 
"My my, someone's testy today." The Vampire pushes off the wall to retrieve his dagger, only for you to hear the same thud of the knife hitting the abused beam once again.
You clench your jaw, wanting nothing more than to drown the bastard in the small stream of gray water. See him try to be a smartass when he's choking on sewage. 
No! Just breathe.
As soon as you get this damn door open, all you need is to grab the stolen lease for the damn butcher, and the party will have a nice payout. Then Astarion's snarky comments and teasing jabs can be ignored behind a glass of ale and a nice meal. 
Well, if you don't kill him first.
The relationship between you and the Vampire is a complex one, to say the least. Astarion is an arrogant, pompous dick. You're a temperamental stubborn asshole. It made for a messy mix of harsh insults and constant attempts to belittle the other.
It would have been so easy to hate him completely, but Astarion can be sweet under the cloak of night, and you could almost pretend he's a tolerable person when he speaks those honey-coated words. And when you let him feed from you, everything became so much more complicated.
The pick snaps, and you drop your head, groaning in frustration. You stand up and kick hard against a crate; the decayed wood breaks against your boot. Sighing in defeat, you motion to the rogue. 
Astarion laughs smoothly, tucking the knife away, and exchanges it for his thieves' tools. Giving you a wink, he bends down to examine the lock. You pretend not to admire the swell of his ass, but who are you kidding Astarion is extremely attractive.
With little to no fanfare, the lock turns over, and Astarion opens the door. "After you."
"I fucking hate you." You grumble, pushing past, making a point to shove your shoulder hard into the rouge.
"Keep telling yourself that Darling," 
You flip him off.
The sewer system is a winding path of tunnels leading to various places. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes. 
"Are you sure we are going the right way?" Astarion asks, breaking the peace.
"Of course, this is the right way." You hiss, glaring over your shoulder. "I can read a map."
"Just like you could pick a lock, yes?"
You don't think you've ever seen a more punchable face. You're almost tempted to smack him just to see his reaction. Instead, you practice a semblance of self-control and ignore him.
After a few more turns, you hit a dead end. It's nothing but a damp brick wall. Scanning the map, you're sure you followed all the proper steps; there should be an entrance. Stowing the stupid paper away, you begin feeling the brick for any invisible button, unwilling to admit defeat in front of Astarion. All hideouts have secret levers. Right?
"Well, sweetheart, I think you've gotten us lost."
"No, I didn't, jackass, now be useful for once and help me." You bend down and begin trailing your fingertips against the rough bricks near the floor.
"I don't think I will. I'm quite enjoying the view from here."
You look back towards the rogue, "What are you talking about–" you choke on your words.
 Astarion is shamelessly eyeing your form. A fang tugs at his bottom lip, hunger darkening his eyes. You swallow hard, and a flame ignites low in your stomach. You have a sudden urge to press him against the wall. That thought startles you. This is Astarion. The obnoxious, arrogant, attractive–no, stop that. You stand up and shake your head, willing your thoughts to clear. 
"You're ridiculous," you sigh and dig through your bag. 
Retrieving the knock scroll, Gale scribed for you. Repeating the steps he told you to do, you mumbled the incantation, and soon enough, what was once a solid brick wall cracked open to reveal a hidden path.
"Told you I knew where I was going," you boast, sticking your tongue out childishly.
Astarion smirks, "Yes, a broken clock is right twice a day."
Scoffing, you shove him hard, causing him to take a few steps to correct his footing. The entrance leads to a broken-down ladder and a worn wooden hatch. Astarion steps up to pick the lock and lifts the hatch barely to survey the room. He pushes the trapdoor open and enters.
Following suit, you find yourself in a dusty broom closet. Astarion is already at the door to the hallway, a sliver of light pouring through the crack. Closing the trapdoor, you cross your arms and wait for Astarion to turn back to you. 
"It's abandoned."
"Are you sure?"
Scoffing, Astarion doesn't answer. He pushes the door open and begins down the hall. You follow after him.
The small hideout is plainly decorated, the common room has a dingy sofa and a coffee table. The fireplace is dead; not even embers remain. Good. In the corner, there looks to be an unfinished game of cards. The faded carpet runner leads down the hall to a large ornate door. 
Astarion is already opening the door by the time you reach him. By the looks of it, this is the boss's office. A large oak desk sat in the middle room. A plush chair pulled slightly away as if someone hadn't bothered to move it back. Bookshelves line the back wall. 
"Secure the door," you say as you move to the window to the left of the door. You hear Astarion mumble something but don't quite catch his words. 
The window is a short drop good for a quick escape if needed. 
You move to the desk and begin rifling through the papers on the desk. Tax documents, random notes, crappy doodles, and a cringey love letter, but not what you're looking for. You rip open the first drawer. Nothing. Second drawer. Nothing. Third, nothing. 
"Astarion, did you find anything?"
"Nothing important." His sultry voice is deep and so very close to your ear.  
Your heart drops, but you suppress any other signs of distress, knowing that is exactly what he's looking for. Sighing In annoyance, you turn around to face Astarion and cross your arms over your chest.
"Are you even trying to look for the damn paper? We need to get what we're here for and get the fuck out!"
Astarion's mouth cracks into a cheeky grin, and he closes in on you. You back against the desk instinctually, reaching a hand up that lands on his firm chest. Astarion has you caged against the desk, each hand on either side of your hips. You know Astarion can hear the thrumming of your heart and the shaky inhalation of your breath, and you curse your body for betraying you.
He bends his head down to press his mouth against your ear. "What if I'm looking for something else?"
You freeze. What did he mea–
The thought is forgotten because he's slamming his lips onto yours. You gasp in surprise, and Astarion wastes no time, delving his tongue into your mouth and claiming it as his. 
The slight metallic taste of blood that lingers on his tongue should repulse you but has you moaning desperately for more. You grip your fist tightly into the fabric of Astarion's armor. His body is flush against yours, but you need more. You scratch your nails up his neck and tangle your fingers into his hair. Astarion groans into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip.
Everything is hazy, and you're lost in the kiss. Your thoughts are slow to catch up with the situation, too consumed by the taste of his lips. Astarion's lips. Astarion.
You push him away, chest heaving in rapid breaths. "What are you doing?" 
"I'd hope my intentions would be obvious by now." He grins and dives back to kiss down your neck, dragging his teeth against your skin. "I could be more obvious if that would clear things up." 
A sharp bite of his mouth at your throat drags a choked gargle from your swollen lips. You feel dizzy from the scent of rosemary and bergamot invading your nose. Lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. Astarion presses a knee between your legs, applying firm pressure against your burning arousal. 
Gods, what was he doing to you?
Needing to gain any form of control, you tug sharply at the roots of his silver curls, drawing a hiss from the man. 
You finally manage to gasp out, "We hate each other." As if that would somehow clear up your raging thoughts.
Except, could you hate someone who is making you feel so good? 
Cold fingers trail against the skin between your leather armor and trousers. Astarion's deft hands start pulling at the lace of your pants. Another wave of arousal warms your body, and you feel drunk on the pale elf.
"You say that, yet I don't think you want me to stop." He purrs, halting his movements, and meets your eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head, desperate for more. Your dignity couldn't live with letting Astarion reduce you to a begging mess. However, if you were honest with yourself, you're already halfway there. Reaching out, you grab for his belt.
Astarion was having none of that. He's quick to twirl you around and press your torso flush against the top of the desk. A stack of paper flies off and scatters to the ground, but neither of you put much care into it. Astarion grinds his front roughly against your ass, and you moan at the feeling of his hardening cock against you.
"No, no, no, my dear, use your words."
"Gods, are you always so fucking annoying?" You whine pressing back and rolling your ass against him. Astarion grunts, gripping your hips tightly. "Are you going to fuck me, or should I just take care of myself?"
Astarion groans, rocking against each roll of your hips. "There's my spitfire." 
"I'm not yours."
Astarion tugs at your pants and underwear, pulling them over your rear and letting them pool around your ankles. You kick off your boots and free yourself, leaving your lower half bare to the open air. A shiver rushes up your spine as the cold air hits your dripping heat. 
Astarion's slim fingers trail down your folds, and you bite your lips to stifle a cry. Tilting your head back, you see the rogue admiring the slick coating his fingers. 
"You might not be mine, darling." Astarion slips his drenched fingers into his mouth, and you watch, mouth agape, as he swirls his tongue to clean each digit. "But who else has seen you bent over a desk looking as desperate and delicious as you do now?"
"I could name a few," you say cheekily, earning you a smack on the flesh of your backside. 
Astarion gropes the reddened skin and bends down, blanketing you with his body. You feel the soft pants of his breath cascade over your neck as Astarion brings his lips to your ear.
"Then it seems I'm just going to have to ruin you for anyone else." Astarion practically growls and licks along the shell of your ear before taking the lobe in between his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. You don't recall hearing Astarion unclasp his belt, but when you feel his bare cock rub against your back, all you can do is arch your back and moan.
"Astarion," you part your legs more in silent invitation.
"Yes, my dear," His voice is smug as he rocks against you. He knows what you want but wants to hear you say it. 
The head of his cock parts your folds and moves to tease your desperate clit; a collective moan fills the room, but it is not enough for either of you. And knowing that the two of you are currently in the middle of dangerous territory means there is no time to play. 
"Stop being a prick and fuck me."
"Have I ever told you, you always have such a way with words." Astarion chuckles before plunging deep into your cunt.
A shaky cry leaves your lips, all air seemingly ripped from your lungs. Astarion is bigger than most men you've slept with prior - though you wouldn't dare voice that out loud in case it inflates his already-inflated ego. The stretch holds a delicious sting, and you feel the beginning of the burn of tears at the corner of your eyes. 
Astarion's still his hips for a moment, letting you collect yourself. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back and peppering kisses across your neck. Once the sting of his initial entrance simmers to a stirring heat, you tell him to move.
"Hells you're so tight." Astarion groans as he sets a teasing pace, dragging the rugged ridges of his cock out before plunging back in at the same agonizing pace. 
A pace you could imagine sharing intimately with Astarion all night somewhere secluded. Perhaps your tent or an isolated clearing, not a random gang's currently empty hideout. And since you're not one to play nice, you decide to play with fire instead.
Pushing up on your elbows, you move your head to look back at Astarion, a playful smirk on your lips. "You say you're going to ruin me, but I think Gale could be doing a better job of it right now."
Astarion's body freezes just as you hoped he would react. He shoots you a look full of daggers and bares his teeth in annoyance. Without comprehending entirely what's happening, Astarion pulls out of you and, with a strength you have not seen from the Vampire (the same Vampire who asks others on multiple occasions to carry his pack because it's too heavy), flips you over and has you seated firmly back on the desk leaving you dizzy but feeling giddy as a schoolgirl. 
"Oh darling, you're going to regret that."
Astarion rams back into your pussy and begins to thrust quick and brutally deep into your body. His cold hand is wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly enough to keep your eyes locked onto him. 
Your legs link around his lean hips, pulling him deeper into you. Moaning desperately, you run one of your hands up under his leather armor, splaying it across his stomach. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss, all tongue and teeth and perfection.
 The desk is groaning under the movement of your bodies. Random knick-knacks are clanging to the floor. A bottle of whiskey shatters, and the pungent aroma wafts into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and slick. 
"You and that mouth of yours." He breathes deep into your ear. "Always so confident, so snarky, so bratty." 
"M-more…" you choke, clenching around his length, desperate for anything and everything he will give you.
"Do you think the wizard could handle you?" The hand not firmly holding your neck snakes between your legs and begins to play with your clit.
"Gods A-star.." You gasp, eyes rolling back.
"Could he or anyone else make you feel this good?" Astarion's hand tightens slightly against your neck, and the lack of oxygen leaves you feeling dizzy and euphoric. 
"N-no…please." 
"After me, no one will ever be able to satisfy you." His thumb is now rubbing fast, tight circles against your clit. "Fuck, that's it, squeeze me just like that."
Gripping onto the desk, you shift your hips, and Astarion is now hitting deeper into your abused cunt. You tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to go faster. That delicious coil is beginning to burn deep in your stomach, and you know you won't last much longer. 
"Tell me, who's making you feel this good," Astarion demands, voice husky. 
"Y-you," 
"And when you come on my cock, I want you to scream my name." He grunts, and the thrust of his hips is beginning to become sloppier. "I want to hear just how good I make you feel."
Everything is too much. Astarion's sinful words, the harsh thrust of his hips combined with the tight circles of his thumb on your clit, the musky smell of Astarion's sweat mingling with yours, and the intense fragrance of the spilled whiskey. 
You don't remember the details, just the wave of euphoria as the coil snaps and your orgasm washes over you. The words that spill from your lips hold no meaning in your clouded mind. The only thing that holds context is the feeling of Astarion stuttering thrusts of his hips as he chases his release from your spent body. 
And when he stills, and the world falls silent apart for your combined pants of breath, all you do is brush the curls off his forehead and kiss his cheek. Why? You're not sure, but that's something you'll ask yourself later. 
Once you return to relatively normal breathing, Astarion moves from his slumped position against your body. He stares at you in astonishment.
"Well, that happened." You offer because what else were you supposed to say?
Astarion breaks out into a genuine laugh, full belly and joyful as he tucks himself away. You couldn't help but join in as you move to put your clothes on.
"Yes, my sweet, I suppose that did happen."
"So where-"
The two of you jump at a commotion coming from the hall. Someone is jingling the doorknob, trying to open it; when it doesn't budge, there is a loud bang followed by an even louder shout of anger.
"Fuck!" You quickly finish tying your boots and collect your gear.
"Seems like our friends are back from their trip. I believe it's time to go." Astarion says as he moves to the window and opens it. Without waiting for you to respond, he gives you a devilish smirk and jumps out.
"Shit, the paper." You sigh, knowing you'll never hear the end of it. 
By the time you make it to the window, the door is being busted in, and a very angry-looking dwarf is storming into the room. You smile at him and give him a salute before diving out the window, knowing Astarion will be there to catch you.
***Later at camp***
"What do you mean you didn't get the document?" Gale yells, the others equally baffled by you and Astarion's failure. "That was the only thing you needed to get!"
You shrink in on yourself looking to Astarion for help. "I...I don"
Astarion rolls his eyes. "Stealing objects from heavily populated hideouts is harder than you might think, wizard." 
"That's why we sent you two!"
"Then perhaps next time-"
"HOLY SHIT!" Karlach interrupts, drawing everyone's attention. She's pointing straight at you with a look of bafflement. "Soldier's got a fucking hickey."
You clamp a hand over the spot Astarion was biting at earlier, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.
Shadowheart's face scrunches up in disgust. "Please don't tell me, we're not getting paid because you two idiots decided to fuck?"
"Darling, it would seem the cat's out of the bag." The bastard has the audacity to look proud.
"I hate you all." You groan and storm off to your tent, contemplating just how bad it would be to join the Absolute.
Feedback always makes my day so let me know what you guys thought. And if you're looking for something sweet to balance out the spice check out my last post right here.
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graveyard-cuddles · 10 days
Text
The early stages of Astarion's romance as he's just beginning to fall for the player are so precious to me. There are so many lovely scenes/moments with Astarion's romance throughout the game that it's really hard to pick a favorite. Obviously, the final romance scene in the graveyard is incredibly beautiful and makes me weep, and the conversation you have with him after defending him from Araj is brilliant.
But honestly, the one scene I keep rotating in my head, even months post game release, is the scene where he propositions you for the second time. I love how it's both incredibly angsty and also painfully sweet to me? I love the silly flirting he does, I love the fake-ass manipulative "I love you," he give you (that might have made me a lil mad first time I played). And I especially love how much you can read between the lines in those moments. Personally, I'm a big believer that Astarion definitely has at least a bit of crush on the player at this point, if not already actively falling for them. The "I love you" might not have been 100% real in the moment, but his responses for when you both accept and reject his offer are very telling.
A lot has been said about how he seems to be genuinely disappointed when you turn him down the second time. And I think he is a bit disappointed, has a bit of a hurt ego probably. But mostly he seems very self-reflective. He mentions how he got on his back so many times for so many people and none of it was memorable or enjoyable, unlike with you. That's such a vulnerable thing to admit, something that he doesn't necessarily need to confess to Tav in order to manipulate them. It's like he's trying to grapple with the feelings himself. That subtle pause and look in his eyes right after he wishes us goodnight? He wants to connect with us in a non-sexual way SO BADLY but just can't feel safe enough to at this point.
When you accept his offer, he plays it off cool at first. But I love how right before the fade to black he says: "There you are. Now you're all mine and I'm all yours...At least until morning." He's literally thinking about how long you two can have this time alone together. And his cute little "Let’s see where the night takes us~" with this little happy sway and smile he does it's like...he's so eager to just have this time with us. He might still be trying to "seduce" and manipulate our feelings at this point, but he's so obviously just happy to be spending time with his favorite person.
The feelings were complex and obviously may have felt tainted by his plan, but I feel like it's all a part of him learning to enjoy intimacy again. Which eventually leads to him learning to enjoy non-sexual intimacy with his partner in Act II and III. Idk I just think watching all the stages of him falling in love and learning to be worthy of love is so neat.
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vixstarria · 4 months
Text
Missionary with the lights off
We're back in Act 1 again! I swear I'll start moving forward now that I'm playing the game again, after this.
Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader
18+, blood drinking, fluff to smut, porn with plot, PIV
Pst, don't let the title mislead you too much
Approx. 1,800 words
You woke up in Astarion's tent.  
Last night had been… unusual. Something you said had soured the mood for anything sexual. Instead you stayed up talking late into the night. You hadn't even taken your clothes off.  
You'd never spent the whole night together before, always opting to make your way back to your respective tents eventually, after your nocturnal activities, but then again you’d spent those previous nights opening your legs more so than your heart. Something had now shifted a little.  
The last thing you remembered was drifting off with your face nuzzled into his neck as he draped an arm over you, having hugged him on a whim and finding yourself not wanting to let go. What you saw now was completely contrary to that memory, as you found yourself lying on your side, with Astarion's head pressed against your chest, right over your heart, both arms holding you close. He must have moved himself while you were asleep. 
He looked perfectly at peace. It was actually adorable, seeing the prickly rogue like this.  
You reached out to softly run your hand over his disarrayed curls, when he also stirred. 
“Hello, darling,” you purred, copying his habitual greeting for you. 
Astarion was startled, suddenly jolting up. He seemed momentarily disoriented, taking in you and his surroundings for a few moments before comprehension returned to his eyes.  
“Are you alright..?” you asked. “I know it's first thing in the morning, but surely I don't look that disturbing.” 
“Yes, sorry… I just… I can’t remember the last time I woke up next to someone,” he said finally. 
“The night at the clearing..?” you offered. 
“I didn’t sleep that night,” he admitted. “And now there's a woman in my tent and I don't know what to do. ...Ahah..! Refresh my memory, what is the protocol? Do I need to make you breakfast?” he joked. 
“I’m sure Gale’s already working on that,” you grinned. 
Astarion laid back down next to you, propped up on an elbow. He gave you an odd half-smile with a slight frown, his eyes narrowed. Not unkindly, but rather a bit… awkwardly. You wondered what he was thinking. 
You ignored the odd look, and instead your eyes wandered up to survey his bedhead. No trace of pomade was left in his hair, instead some of it was standing on end, while other, longer strands started to fall over his eyes as he leaned on his hand, watching you.  
“What is going on here..?” you laughed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into your hand as you ran your fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes, his lips widening into a genuine smile. He reminded you of a cat that was enjoying a head scratch.  
“I don't have the slightest idea, darling,” he drawled. “But I guess you have to die after all, now that you've seen it.” 
“You are a horrible flirt, you know, and I don't mean that in a good way." 
“It works on you, doesn't it?” he shrugged, grinning and leaning in for a kiss.  
“Hmm, but returning to breakfast,” you said, breaking the kiss as his lips slowly made their way down to your neck. “What about you? Fancy a nibble?” 
“If it's on offer…” Astarion purred, continuing his way down. He knew your body entirely too well at this point. His lips lingered on the exact spot that made your breath shudder, sending a wave of shivers all through you. “Where..?” 
“Right there,” you breathed.  
“Oh? You want me to leave my mark on you, right where everyone can see..?” he murmured, continuing to kiss your neck. You usually offered him your wrist.  
“It’s not like they don’t already know what we’ve been doing, so sure, mark me...” you replied. “Mark me as yours,” you added in a hoarse whisper.  
Once the words were out you wondered if it was too much, but Astarion clearly liked the idea. He liked it a lot, judging by the soft growl he let out, as he continued to trail his lips along your neck, searching for just the right spot. You knew he'd found it, you remembered where he's bitten you before, but instead of going in for a bite he toyed with you, leaving slow, deliberate licks, until you released a small moan, and only then sank his fangs in you, lightly grinding his hips into yours as he did.  
Something about a vampire's bite made it quite unlike anything else. It started off as a sharp, icy chill, gradually spreading and melting into something that stung the way an itch strings right before you scratch it, multiplied tenfold. The only way to relieve that stinging sensation was to give into it, more and more. The area bitten remained tender and sensitive in the most erogenous way for a long time after the bite itself. The whole experience was inherently erotic, no matter where the bite was. 
You understood why this was fetishised. You also understood how people happily allowed themselves to be bled dry.  
Astarion continued to grind against you, slowly, his erection evident. This was nothing new and didn't necessarily mean anything - you’ve joked before that any blood he drank went straight to his dick before going anywhere else – which is why you usually did this privately, even when he drank from your wrist.  
However, this time, you really didn't want it to just be casual. You didn't think he did either, the way he was breathing. One of your hands was caught in his hair at the back of his head, the other trailed down to his hips, squeezing, as he grinded into you harder, making you crave more.  
And then it was over and you felt a profound sense of disappointment and loss, as Astarion gave your neck a few final licks and broke away from you, lifting his body from yours. The only contact that remained between you two was your eyes, as he gave you an unwavering look of barely contained lust.  
The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.  
One heartbeat... Two... Three... 
Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.  
Suddenly, without a single word, you found yourselves tearing at each other’s pants in an urgent rush to remove them.  
Curse them, you thought. You would start sleeping in a nightgown, if you managed to find one. Or naked. Or steal Astarion’s shirt. 
You thought you recognised some elvish curses as Astarion snarled, struggling to pull your pants off without lifting his body from you, biting your lip as you managed to twist and free one leg, the other pant leg left danging at your knee. 
All the while, you’d been tearing at the lacing on Astarion’s pants, managing to undo it just enough to slide them low enough to release his pulsing cock. 
You didn’t even bother with your shirts. You had a burning, ravenous hunger, and it had to be sated. Immediately.  
You tugged on Astarion’s cock, impatiently guiding it towards your throbbing pussy. You had no time or eagerness or wish for any teasing or foreplay, only a carnal, animalistic need. You’d barely aligned Astarion’s dick with your entrance when he plunged himself into you, fully, with another swear through gritted teeth.  
Finally, you felt complete.  
There was no rhythm, decency or finesse to what followed, the only way you could describe it was mindless, feral rutting. You dug your fingers into his hips, trying to bring him closer, deeper, moaning as his tongue writhed against yours. He couldn’t be close enough - even had you melded into one you would still want more of him. 
You spread your legs wide, angling your hips so his body hit your exposed clit with every thrust, and bucked into him, desperately. He changed his thrusts to a more rolling motion, rubbing into you.  
“Yes... Like that...” you barely managed. 
There was a commotion, a loud clanking, crashing sound and some yelling outside. 
“Astarion!” you heard Wyll’s voice just outside the tent, shortly after.  
"Fuck,” Astarion growled under his breath. “Three minutes!” he shouted. 
Three minutes? Then again, you didn’t think you were going to last even another minute. 
Astarion covered your mouth with his hand as his hips continued to relentlessly grind you into the floor of his tent. Your whimpers grew more drawn out until your body stilled before breaking into tremors emanating from your hips, as he continued to fuck you. You were holding on to his back for dear life, bringing your legs up to wrap tightly around his hips, moaning into his hand as you came. 
Immediately, he changed his rolling thrusts to something frantic, grabbing your hand and bringing it over your head, and catching your knee at his elbow and bringing it up with his other arm. He buried his face in your neck, moaning, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he slammed his hips into you with a final groan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. 
“Astarion! This is urgent!” you heard Wyll again.  
“He’s coming!” you yelled, exasperated, before you realised what you’d said.  
Your words were greeted with a momentary silence, then the sound of Karlach laughing somewhat off in the distance.  
Astarion was also laughing into your neck, his shoulders shaking even as he delivered his final thrusts. 
“That was-” he panted between laughter, “the sloppiest... most unimaginative... objectively worst sex I've ever had.” 
“And subjectively..?” you asked, also starting to laugh as you came off the sudden high that had overtaken you.  
“I wouldn’t mind waking up to something like that every day for the rest of my life,” he said, lifting his head and looking at you. 
“That can be arranged,” you purred. 
There was that little frown again, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.  
“We could always die today,” you shrugged. 
“Funny...” he said. “Anyway... Good luck with this giant mess I left between your legs. I better go see what is so godsdamn important.” 
Bonus scene: 
“What do you mean, I’m the only adult here that knows how to manage a needle and thread?! And how do you even rip a bag of holding..?!” 
“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.” 
“No, you can carry your own shit from here on. I’m fine with just my weapons and the clothes on my back.” 
“We need you, Astarion!” 
“At least get rid of all the junk, what do we need a dozen goblin scimitars for, they’re not even worth anything!” 
“Save us, Astarion!” 
“Rotten carrots, rusty tongs... Is that literally just a rock?” 
“Save us, 239-year-old vampire that can sew!”  
Sigh... Astarion observed the torn bag with a resigned look.  
“...Would you mind mending Clive as well, while you’ve got the kit out..? He’s been through hell and back. And looks it.” 
“Yes, Karlach, I’ll fix up your teddy bear too...” 
~~~~~ 
Mark me as yours - fic re the following day
I have a whole series with these two, check it out
AO3
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lovelybluebirdie · 3 months
Text
What is yours
Astarion x gn!Reader
Summary: A stroll through the market evokes an unpleasant sensation in Astarion.
Word Count: 3,1k
hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff
[ AO3 ]
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The warm rays of the midday sun bathed the markets’ goods in a marvellous light. The place was bustling, a scent of spices lingering in the air and hurried voices brimming. 
If someone had told Astarion that one day he’d be able to move around Baldur’s Gate so freely again, he’d probably huffed merely a dry laugh – and yet here he was, following you through the narrow streets of his city, admiring how much colour the world had to offer.
Of course it was you who had dragged him along for the mundane task to gather some food for your companions back at camp. Astarion couldn't care less to fill up their bellies, as his own appetite was perfectly stilled from your generosity when it came to offer him your blood, but one blink from your doe eyes had been enough to convince him to accompany you.
Well, that, and perhaps that warm feeling that refused to leave his chest when he was with you. 
It was obvious that you loved to stroll around the market, savouring the colourful impressions while taking a break from all the fighting and gore your journey to rid yourself from the tadpoles held for you. 
Astarion had never watched you spending your coin so lightly before. You probably thought it was time to treat yourself once in a while, and who was he to deny you this little pleasure? He had to admit that he actually adored seeing your face light up over the different trinkets you bought, eagerly filling your bags and pouches with your newest additions.
“Let's get some fruit for the others while we’re at it,” you suggested, pointing towards a merchant presenting an inviting range of fresh goods. “Something nutritious seems much needed after we fed mostly on leftovers for the past weeks.”
Your shoulders were loaded with the various goods you had already bought – dyes, herbs, some new toys for Scratch and the owlbear cub and a bunch of flasks to fill with potions.
“As you wish,” Astarion replied, when a display of weapons caught his eye. His last pair of daggers had become rather blunt from the Goblin throats he’d cut, so maybe it was time to treat himself as well, he thought and gently grabbed your wrist.  
“On second thought, why don't you go ahead while I'll have another look around here, my love?” he asked and came to a stop. “I haven't much expertise to add when it comes to your culinary needs, and those daggers look rather appealing.”
“Sounds fine with me, but try not to spend all of our gold at once,” you teased and squeezed his shoulder.
“Hah, you're one to talk. Please remind me, who was it again that just bought five new toys for Scratch, so he had a set of different colours to choose from?”
“He needs some variety,” you muttered, trying to keep up a serious expression. “But nevermind, see you in a minute then.” 
You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and waved, already on your way to spend some more of your coin.
Astarion couldn’t help but smile over your excitement for the market, before he picked up a dagger from the display in front of him. The handle appeared to be of higher quality than his current ones, and the blade looked sharp enough to inflict some hurt.
As he gazed further through the wares, pondering which one would fit him best, he spared a glance to check on you. 
He spotted you a few stalls away at the fruit stand you had mentioned. The vendor you were talking to gesticulated wildly while presenting his wares, leading you to laugh.
Astarion frowned and put the dagger away to take a closer look.
The vendor was young, an elf with blond curls, and Astarion noticed that he wasn’t an unpleasant sight. 
He was immediately bothered by the smile you gave the other man, the way he touched your hands as he started to offer you bite-sized pieces of fruit to taste.
His fingers lingered too long against yours for Astarion’s liking.
As he continued to watch you from afar, something inside his belly started to seethe – hot and ugly.
A feeling he experienced before when it came to you, but couldn't quite grasp.
Well, whatever this was, Astarion certainly wasn’t jealous. Not of some random street vendor at least – and why should he be? Because you had smiled so sweetly at him? Or because you were laughing again as you took another piece of fruit from his filthy hands? 
What in the nine hells could be so entertaining about buying fruit anyway? 
It was ridiculous, really, and yet Astarion imagined how it would feel to rip the vendor's throat as punishment for daring to touch you. 
Would he bleed out quickly? Would he scream?
Astarion shook his head, shoving the violent image aside.
He remembered the previous occasions when that unpleasant burning inside his stomach had appeared. It was the moment Gale decided it was appropriate to show you his so-called magical weave, or the other day when Wyll proposed a dance to you. You had kindly rejected both of them, but Astarion was still not particularly impressed by their interest in you. 
He knew what others would seek from you. Why they wanted you. For the same reasons he enjoyed being with you: your compassion, the kindness you spread. Your special talent to make him feel seen. 
There was also your wit, the way you would crack a joke even in the most maddening situations, making him feel light. And not to mention, you were a beautiful vision if Astarion had ever seen one.
Of course there would be others who saw those qualities as well, aiming to claim you.
A sudden wave of anxiety flooded his mind, moulding an appaling image in his skull.
He wondered if one day you would prefer someone else over him.
Someone who would match your kindness – acting all selfless and heroic, indulging in activities he found little pleasure in.
Providing you with something Astarion might be unable to give you, ever, no matter how much he cared about you.
Hells, what if you were already seeking someone like that?
His stomach dropped.
The dreadful notion spread its relentless claws past his ribs, tearing holes in his dead heart.
Blood rushed to his ears.
Before he even realised, his feet were already dragging him towards you.
He needed to be close to you – doing anything to make this feeling stop.
When he arrived next to you, he placed a hand on the small of your back and grasped your tunic, a little tighter than he'd intended.
He tried his best to keep his composure.
“Are we all done here, my love?” he asked, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Oh, Astarion!” You smiled when you noticed him, unaware of his musings. Your pouch was filled to the brink with fresh fruits. “Yes, I guess that would be all.”
Astarion felt the need to pull you away, but before he came up with an excuse to leave immediately, the merchant was already addressing you again. 
“Think about it, will you?” A smug grin plastered that man’s face as he spoke to you, casually bending over his counter.
Astarion gave you a confused look.
Think about what? 
“Unfortunately there’s no time to join the tavern tonight, but thank you for the offer. Maybe next time,” you said amicably and packed up your wares.
What was that? 
Astarion thought he must have misheard.
“What a shame. Perhaps you can give it a second thought.” The vendor was still beaming at you, before he turned to Astarion. “Your friend can come too, of course.”
“Oh, that sounds splendid. We will think about it, will we, darling?”
Astarion bit his tongue, swallowing the impulse to spit a cutting remark on top of his obvious sarcasm.
What in the nine hells was this mongrel thinking, inviting you to the tavern? And how he was speaking to him – as if he was some irrelevant bystander.
“Let's see what we can do,” you said politely, already on your way to move on. “Have a nice day. And thank you again.”
“You as well,” replied the salesman and waved. 
Astarion gritted his teeth as he followed you through the busy alleyways, still processing what just happened.
The vendor's words appeared in his mind.
That man had obviously desired to fuck you, and wasn’t even trying to hide his advances.
How could he have dared.
Astarion regretted that he had acted so passive in that moment. Usually he wasn’t one to hesitate, always a sharp comment dancing on his tongue, and yet… the thought of losing you to someone else had shifted something in him, turning him small.
His fury grew.
Oh, how he would love to grab that despicable pig by his throat, banishing that filthy grin of his face. Making him bleed. But he knew that unlike him, you would gladly refrain from a public bloodbath, so he shoved away those violent fantasies, even if the fire continued to seeth in him – unpleasant and hot.
He tried to fathom what posed the worst about this whole ordeal: The way in which the man had aimed to claim you, or his fear that you enjoyed those cheap advances – possibly were fond of it even.
Astarion's mood couldn't have been more sour as you arrived at a secluded area, away from the markets bustling.
“Can you believe it? That seller insisted on giving me a discount,” you broke the silence and pointed proudly at the wares you had gathered. “And they say there are no kind people left in Baldur's Gate.”
And just as the words had left your throat, Astarion finally snapped.
“Is that so?” he hissed, baring his fangs. “How generous. What a nice, handsome gentleman he is, also inviting you to the tavern with him.” He spoke harsh – his tone cold and venomous. 
You came to an abrupt stop, resting the groceries on the ground and fixating your gaze on his, a furrow between your eyebrows. 
“What are you implying?” You sounded puzzled.
“Oh, don't act so naive, darling, you know what I'm implying. That man wanted to bed you, everyone could see it from the way he treated you. And by the laughs you offered him, you seemed to enjoy his attention as well, did you not? What a flirt you are.”
His accusations left a taste of ash in his mouth. Moments before his anger seemed directed at the man’s advances, and now his bottled-up wrath was boiling onto you.
The bewildered look on your face turned into something else, something sad, your eyes losing their shine. He sensed that he must’ve hurt you, and it tugged at his heartstrings.
“So, you’re jealous of that man, is that what this is about?”
“Me? Being jealous of some filthy street vendor?” Astarion scoffed, immediately falling back to his dramatics, gesticulating defensively with his hands. “Don't insult me, darling. I find it amusing that he thinks he can have you, and I didn’t fail to miss your interest in him,” he bit, almost choking on the dry chuckle that spilled from his lips.
“There was no interest from my side, other than purchasing some of his wares,” you explained. Then you opened your mouth again, sharply sucking air between your teeth, before your gaze softened. Your voice was calm, without spite or anger. “He recognized me, Astarion. From the article in the gazette. Slayer of the evil Ketheric Thorm and all that fuss. Does that ring a bell?” 
Of course he remembered. It was him that had to sneak past those giant steel watchers back at the gazette’s building, convincing the magical press to print an article in your favour. An article that wouldn’t taint your reputation, unlike the one Gortash had commissioned to derogate you. 
Astarion couldn’t deny that after the praising piece was published, you were indeed met with an unusual kindness from the people of Baldur's Gate. 
“Well, how could I forget?” Astarion's face twisted. “But that doesn't mean he didn't have something else in mind with you. Some people certainly would love to bury their blade inside a true hero for once, I can imagine.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Even if he did want to bed me, what does it matter?”
An icy grip twisted Astarion's chest. The image of you with someone else stung in his eyes, making him sick. 
Before he could growl another reply, you rested your hand on his arm, catching his fuming. “Hey – look at me, you silly goose.” 
Your tender touch was enough to quell the blazing flame in his belly. 
You spoke so warmly to him. So... loving.
Astarion rested his eyes on you and was met with an affectionate smile that disarmed him completely.
“Astarion, don’t you realise that I couldn't care less if thousands of people felt the sudden need to bed me?”
He bit his cheek, remaining silent.
“You’re the only one I want, you jealous fool. No one else – not now, not ever, and certainly not some random street vendor that throws a discount at me because he thinks of me as some kind of hero.”
Astarion’s features involuntarily softened as he took in your words. The fury that was about to overwhelm him dissolved into a flutter, engulfing his chest, washing away the seething that hooked at his ribcage.
“Really?” Only one word left his mouth, before he cleared his throat. “I mean – I'm not surprised of course, as you seem to literally cling to my side these days.” A poor attempt to cover his insecurity, but the best he could muster.
“Really,” you assured and gently tapped on his temple, “I vow on the tadpole flooding inside our brains.” You chuckled as you rested your hands on the back of his neck and shifted closer to him. 
“Well, but those might be gone someday,” Astarion mumbled.
“And even then, I will remain at your side. Only if you want me to, of course.”
Astarion didn’t have to think of his answer, the words spilling from his lips like a reflex.
“Yes, I would want that,” he whispered sincerely, his flamboyant mask crumbling. “Look, it's not that I don't trust you. It’s just… Well, I guess I'm used to losing what I hold dear. And the thought of losing you to someone else… I don’t know, apparently it woke something in me.” 
He felt almost ashamed over his sudden lack of eloquence, being so raw with you, but there was a sense of relief in opening up. To his surprise, it was even more soothing than losing himself in violence.
You looked at him with affection and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. He closed his eyes and sunk against your palm. 
“It's alright, Astarion, you don't have to explain. I promise you, you won’t lose me to someone else. As you said, I tend to cling to your side these days, and truth be told, I have no intention to stop.”
“I hope you won’t,” Astarion replied and took your hand in his to press a kiss to your fingertips. “But honestly, I have to apologise for doubting your intentions with me. With us.”
“I forgive you, lover,” you replied tenderly. “I didn't take you for the overly jealous type, though,” you added with a smirk.
Astarion offered you a wry smile. “Let's not dwell on it, shall we?”
Then he reached for your face, softly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and rested his lips on your forehead, followed by a kiss to the tip of your nose.
You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him into a close embrace. He could sense your heartbeat against his cold body, your pulse drumming in a comforting rhythm.
For a moment you were just holding each other, your head against his chest, Astarion relishing your warmth and kissing your hair. Your touch was relieving. Assuring.
You were with him, and had promised not to leave. 
Your affirmations repeated in his mind: You wanted him. Only him alone.
This was all new territory and Astarion sensed it would take some time for him to fully adjust, yes, but right now… this was all he could wish for.
“Somehow I don't want to let go of you, little love,” he hummed to your ear.
“Then don't,” you breathed and kissed along his neck, brushing his bite marks with your lips, sending a shiver down his spine. A particularly sensible spot, but you were allowed to touch him there.
Gods, how deeply he had fallen for you.
Astarion drew you even closer and sighed, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. 
When he gently peeled away from your hug, you looked up to him and bit your lip.
“Can I be completely honest with you?” you asked sheepishly.
“What is it, my sweet?”
“Well... I think that merchant truly wanted to bed me.”
Astarion laughed – deep, coming from his belly – surprised by his own lightness. The idea of fuming over your obvious admirer seemed almost ridiculous all of a sudden. 
“I told you so. But now that you see it too, I guess you wouldn't mind if we turn back for a quick chat? I would love to take care of that dear fellow,” he replied mischievously. While his fury was gone, he still wouldn’t mind some misdemeanour.
“Astarion!” you scolded, but joined his laughter. “Please spare that innocent man.”
“Relax darling, I will. For now at least. And only because you asked so nicely.” His fangs poked from the grin that adorned his lips.
“Good boy,” you teased and brushed one of his white curls behind his ear, his grin widening from your touch.
As you walked back to camp, hands softly entwined, Astarion noticed that probably for the first time in his life someone truly belonged to him – willingly, out of love.
You belonged to him. 
The thought grew in his chest, wandered up to his eyes, spreading affection through his entire body, and for the remaining way back to camp he didn’t let go of your hand.
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neckromantics · 2 months
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Waking up to find that Astarion is missing after going out for a hunt the night before. Going on a search for him, only to find him sprawled out in the grass somewhere just outside of camp, basking in the warmth of the sun.
He came out of his tent at dawn to greet the sunlight and just dropped into trance after lying down to feel it. Might have even fallen asleep– a rather rare thing for elves to do at his age, even rarer for a vampire. He has one arm slung over his face to shield his eyes, the other folded to rest a hand against the soft, pale skin of his bare chest.
He looks so peaceful that you would absolutely hate to disturb him. Would definitely threaten the well-being of anyone else who dared to. So you don't.
You just sit a little off to the side (like a bit of a creep) and watch. Watch the rise and fall of his belly as he pulls in unneeded, soft breaths to take in the scent of the morning air. Watch as his head lulls to the side, letting you catch the slightest glimpse of one of his eyes. Pale lashes contrast with the rosy pink of his cheeks. It's a flush that spreads over the bridge of his nose, too. Down his neck. All the way to the points of his ears. He looks warm to the touch.
Your hands twitch at your sides. Breath catches in your throat at how ethereal your love is. He's beautiful to you always, of course, but there's something especially sweet about seeing him like this. Warm. Happy. The most relaxed you've ever seen him.
You wait there with him until he wakes. Until the commotion of the others in camp as they get ready for the day becomes loud enough for him to stir. His lips, pouty from slumber, smacking lightly as his arms reach out above him, back forming an arch as he stretches until his spine gives a nice crack. His little moan of satisfaction has your own cheeks going warm, and even warmer still as he catches your scent on his next inhale and turns to look at you.
Eyes glassy. Lids heavy. He gives two, hypnotizingly slow blinks as he takes in your form. Up and down. Studying you just as much as you were him only moments before.
There's this smile that comes just before he slips into that usual smirk of his. A genuine, awfully content little thing. The sight of which you will be replaying in your head an endless amount of times, perhaps for the rest of your life.
You can't even hear his comment on just how creepy it is for you to be watching him sleep because you're too busy trying not to swoon.
And the sound of his voice when he's just woken? Forget about it.
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