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zujime · 1 month

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Hi, I'm new to your blog, but I really like your creativity, you're doing a great job. I have an idea and I hope you like it too. I imagine Jotaro during part 3 with fem s/o who usually has little contact with Jotaro and doesn't approve of his rude behavior, but during a late night conversation confesses to JoJo that he reminds her of her little sister. They are equally rude in public, they have equally stern faces, but inside them is hidden a big and kind heart open to from the family

─── jotaro k.

cw. fluffy stuff, fem reader, and some swearing

jotaro, who you hardly stand next to throughout the journey—mostly to keep your mind on the task at hand but also because it’s already enough of a mood ruiner hearing him rudely telling someone off, the last thing you want is for any of that to be unintentionally directed towards you. so, steering clear seemed like the safest option as of now. though, his unreadable blue hues always seemed to glimmer beneath the brim of his hat whenever he’d catch yours as he took a drag of his cigarette.

jotaro, who gives even a baby a daunting glare for staring at you at all. unless the two of you have been torn away from one another, making civil conversations with anyone is nothing but a challenge as you’re escorted around with your own personal, six-foot-tall pole with an unmatched poker face.

jotaro, who despite his cold demeanor, thinks of you when he’s getting food. typically getting something big enough for the both of you, saying something along the lines of “figured we could split it” as he spots the giddy look on your face.

jotaro, who’s now in a hotel room the two of you are sharing for the night. the room remains silent for a while but it’s different from his typical, cold silence—it's faint, but warm. his frame and features soften when he’s under your tender gaze. it’s not until a few moments later that you realize, he reminds you of someone.

“hm..?” he hummed as studied your expression—a soft smile adorned your lips as you shook your head slightly, chuckling before opening your mouth to speak. “it’s just— you remind me of my little sister.” you catch the way the space between his brows crinkle faintly as he processes what you’ve just told him. “she acts like you in a way—-she’s almost just as much of an asshole, except… behind closed doors.”

jotaro, who smiles a little at your words. his heavy steps were now gentle against the wooden floor as he padded across the room to sit beside you on the bed. uttering a “so? want me to be nice to everyone i meet or something?” before moving to hold your face in one of his hands—cheek cupped gently in his grasp. “get some rest” he whispers, running a thumb across the expanse of your cheekbone.

#[♪]. jotaro #jotaro x reader #jojo x reader #jotaro headcanons #jjba x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba #jjba part 3 #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba part 4 #4taro #jotaro imagine #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro smut #jojo headcanons #female reader #reader insert #jjba hcs

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zujime · 1 month

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─── vi

cw. best friend’s ex! vi, fluff, implied fem reader (no pronouns used tho), acquaintances to lovers, (slight) slow burn, cuddles, sharing a bed, movie nights, pet names mentioned: princess, babe, hun, gorgeous.

note. a lil somthing i conjured up during my period insomnia :)) I'm running on one hour of sleep ya'll mrgh... anyway, should i make another part?

best friend’s ex! vi who you only ever saw in passing when she was still with your bestie. why they broke up was always a topic your friend never really expanded upon but they got off on somewhat good terms—though you do recall the prolonged stares vi would give you when she’d come by.

best friend’s ex! vi who you happened to stumble upon when going to get your lunch at the cafe that was across from your job right after you finished your shift. you remember hearing that she wasn’t really a fan of the food here because “the food ’s just glorified hospital food”, though the silly jab at her comment is caught in your throat when she greets you; silver eyes soft as they flicker between your eyes, scarred lips curling into a shy smirk as the velvety soft sound of her voice reaches your ears.

best friend’s ex! vi who you gave your number to after that same encounter to keep in touch—she’d text you during your breaks to ask silly questions and take your mind off work stress and later call you after your shifts end. and those calls end up lasting far longer than intended, either up until someone falls asleep or till someone’s phone dies.

best friend’s ex! vi who takes three weeks to ask if you wanna hang out, you know, as friends? inviting you over for a movie night at her place on your day off to watch the movies you’d been dying to watch but never got around to. you were able to get through the first two but as soon as the third movie started, you began nodding off before vi felt your head softly fall onto her taut shoulder—your lashes ghosting the exposed skin as you slept peacefully, drooling a little.

best friend’s ex! vi who chuckles slightly at the sight and at the warm, heart-swelling feeling you give her whenever you call, text—hell, whenever she sees your face. she turns the tv off before picking you up and tucking you in her bed before she goes to sleep on the couch.

best friend’s ex! vi who you wake up and walk down the hall to see laid out on the couch, limbs hanging off the couch from under the soft blanket she had on—low mumbles could be heard from her sleeping form, faint yet audible, though they’re cut short as she stretches and slides a hand over her face in hopes of wiping away the sleep, eyelids heavy as she peers at you.

“how long have you been watching me?” her voice still carried the taunt with a softness as she spoke groggily. you feel your face grow warm at her question, despite it being a tease but you brush it off and thank her for letting you stay the night even though none of you intended to have a sleepover. she hums in response before getting up off the couch. “it was like—three in the morning—and i am not some asshole who would’ve just let you go home alone, princess.” the pet name slid so effortlessly off her tongue as she passed by you, to go shower.

best friend’s ex! vi who you find yourself hanging out with more and more, and the pet names she’d give you only seemed to grow—not like you had a problem with it. she’d call you things like babe, princess, and hun far more than she’d ever say your actual name, she even calls you gorgeous, though rather sparingly because sometimes she feels like she’s going a little too far.

best friend’s ex! vi who you refuse to tell your bestie about every time she asks what you’re thinking about whenever you zone out during your monthly outings.

“what’s with that face?” she inquires, giggling a bit at the shamelessly lovesick expression you wore. “what face? what’re you talking about?” you snap back to reality, eyeing your friend anxiously as you listen to her response. “you know, that face people make in those really cheesy romcoms from the 2000s when they’d just met the love of their life or something…” she trailed off, now squinting at you in suspicion. “...are you seeing someone?” “...” “hello?!” “girl, no! i’m thinking about when imma get my mfing food.”

best friend’s ex! vi who you practically live with at this point—because of how often you two have sleepovers, she has a majority of your belongings all around her apartment; your clothes in her closet and dresser, your extra toothbrush and hair products, fav foods/snacks and drinks in the fridge, etc. though, she still insists on sleeping on the couch whenever you stay over despite you stating you have no problem sharing the bed. eventually, she caved—reluctant at first as she squirmed under the comforter to get comfortable beside you until she finally was able to fall asleep.

best friend’s ex! vi who at first when sharing the bed with you, would often wake up to make sure she wasn’t crowding your space or being touchy in any way. but the moment she woke up to your arms draped over her frame, she softened and decided to just let herself sleep—burying her face in the crook of your neck and holding you close as she slept, yet she still tries to be mindful of her movement so she doesn’t wake you.

best friend’s ex! vi who you realize is a huge sucker for physical affection. oftentimes brushing her hand against yours in hopes of holding it but hesitantly refraining from interlocking fingers when in public. and when the two of you are alone, she desperately leans into whatever you give her—head scratches, movie night cuddles, pinky holding, tracing her tattoos with your fingers, anything.

best friend’s ex! vi who realizes she has feelings for you during one of your typical movie nights, but the look you gave her when the movie ended—eyes reflecting the television screen so prettily as you tilt your head slightly to peer up at her before speaking, but whatever it was you said had completely gone through one ear and out the other as the skin of her ears slowly became a deep red.

"fuck." was the only thought that crossed her mind as she stared at your soft eyes. "vi?" you murmur, a little worried at the expression she wore. but she abruptly stands up before excusing herself and heading to the bathroom.

best friend’s ex! vi who you spent the last few days worrying about—is she ok? is she sick? did you make her uncomfortable? thoughts seemed to race through your head endlessly until she asks if you could come over real quick, through a text.

best friend’s ex! vi who—despite having met multiple people before—gets nervous when you step foot in her apartment. in her eyes, the feeling of her words falling messily from her lips as she spills her guts to you feels weird. but when you creep close to her—lips mere inches from hers as your breaths mingled and eyes heavy-lidded—that feeling dissipates.

best friend’s ex! vi who gets lost in the sea that is your lips as you drown in the feelings she was too scared to show you. callous hands slotting themselves needily on each side of your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss with every shared breath, begging never to part. almost as if accepting her request, you rest a hand against hers, smiling into the searing kiss before finally pulling away for air and softly gazing up at her silver orbs.

#[♪]. vi #reader insert #arcane #arcane vi #arcane violet #arcane imagines #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi imagine #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #fluff #arcane fluff #vi fluff #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n

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zujime · 1 month

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─── katsuki b. + izuku m.

cw. aged up, fluff, mention of temporary quirk erasure, porn w/o much plot, established polyamorous relationship, pillow prince izuku, brief masturbation (m), handjob (m), marking, cockwarming, no y/n usage, (slight) nipple play, overstimulation, pet names used: baby, honey

note. this has been in my drafts for two whole years, if the writing style changes that’s most likely why. also, i'm so sorry the fluff is kinda long, i had to cut some of it cause it was a little longer💀

The apartment was filled with a pleasant stillness as you watched the water in the pot begin to fester as it rested on the stovetop. Katsuki had been prepping a few veggies, occasionally peeping in your direction to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself whilst the two of you patiently waited for your speckled partner to get home from work.

The towering blond had been allowed a week to recover from his injuries during a recent villain attack. His injuries weren’t drastic—mainly a few cuts and bruises, but it took a lot out of him. The villain had nullified his quirk temporarily and his quirk was estimated to come back a few days from now, though the aftermath had been the absence of energy he currently had.

You walk over to the taller man whose face was accompanied by his usual glower; “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” You query, observing his hands attentively as he minces the vegetables before letting a grunt leave him. “It’s nothin' serious. I just don’t wanna sleep all damn day,” he rumbled—softly—as his motions came to a halt for an instant, as his scarlet eyes found yours briefly; “I’ll live” he concludes before going back to mincing.

A smile grows on the skin of your lips as you find yourself on your tiptoes, leaving a delicate, yet tender peck on his cheek before returning to what you’d been doing, and from the corner of your eye, you could almost see his features ease from the action.

Exchanges were brief yet delightful, allotting the sound of water bubbling to fill the silent void instead, though the moment the front door unlocks, you’re both twisting to see who’d come through.

Your lips form a warm smile as you met his forest eyes, Katsuki’s eyes slightly softening at the sight of him. “Oh hey, you’re back!” You chirp, eyes greeting his weary ones after he toed off his sneakers and left them at the door. You turn the stove to a low setting before promptly going over to the walking bedhead; eyes doused in nothing but fret as you inspect his exhausted ones.

“You alright?” Voice as gentle as he remembered, “come on, I’ll run you a bath, then we can talk about it during dinner if you want.” Your hand rubbed tenderly at his clothed bicep in hopes of soothing him somehow, but all he gives you is a slight nod and a frail “sure” in return. “Alright. Katsuki,” You call out in a whisper.

“Can you take care of dinner? I’ll be right back-“ “I’ll handle it.” The blond interrupts, tone gruff yet delicate as his eyes remained trained on what he’d been doing. You utter an “okay” before accompanying the tired pro hero to the washroom.

Steamy water began loading the bathtub as you helped Izuku out of his battered costume. You turned the tub faucet off after the water neared the brim, and the freckled man before you was now in nothing but his boxers. You waited for him to step out of them, only to be caught off guard when he pulled you into him.

His delicate facial features find their place hidden in your collar as his hair tickles your temple. You bring a hand up to his disheveled curls and massage his scalp, cherishing the view of the man that towered over you, melting to your touch.

“You alright, ‘zuku?” His arms tighten their grasp on your frame as the dulcet melody of your voice reaches his ears. He mumbles something in response, but it’s tough to decipher. “I can’t hear you, honey.” You snicker and move one of your hands to cup his face to get him to look at you. “I wanna...hold you. Can I?” His voice came out a bit smaller than he’d intended it to. “You’re holding me right now, aren’t you?” You ask, only to get a no in response. “That’s not what I meant,” he adds sheepishly, “I wanna keep holding you.”

“... In the tub?”

“Please?” He pleas as he leans his head into your palm. “Okay, I have to get something first.” He nods and frees you from his hold and begins taking off his boxers as you head out of the bathroom to fetch a few towels and washcloths.

Nimbly coming back to the sight of him snugly seated in the bathtub. You prop the neatly folded towels on the counter before taking off your clothes and joining Izuku, water sloshing as you straddle his lap and face him.

The conversations were mostly kept to a minimum as the two of you bask in the pacifying silence you shared after you’d both finished cleaning one another, though that peace is brought to a curt end when your blonde boyfriend slides open the door to the bathroom. His demeanor was seemingly more serene than usual and his voice was soft as he spoke, “the food’s ready, so don’t be in here all night.”

The door shut, leaving the two of you to tend to your business before finally getting out of the—now room temperature—water so you don’t prune up.

After Izuku’s done drying off and putting on the clothes that’d been nicely folded on the bathroom counter, he sits on the edge of the tub, now content as you gently dry his hair. His jagged hands found their place on your waist as he leaned into your touch once more, uttering an almost silent “thank you”.

“You don’t need to thank me, ‘zuku” you giggle; “I mean it. I’d be ready and willing to do this anytime for you—and maybe Mr. grouchy out there too.” The joke was stupid, but it somehow managed to pull a small and sweet laugh from both of you. “Come on, you know how he gets when we take too long.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek before placing a kiss there.

Hand in hand, the two of you stroll out of the bathroom and into the dining room where your shared partner had been waiting patiently—to the best of his ability. The blonde hadn’t even started eating as he waited, his ruby eyes finally gazing up at your figures.

“Sit” he croaks, nodding towards the vacant chairs around the table and the two of you do so, hands straying as you go to take a seat at the dinner table. All Katsuki does is glare at both of you before directing you to eat and threatening to force-feed you if you choose not to. You chortle and shake your head as you pick up your silverware and start eating.

You know he meant well with his statement and is just concerned about the well-being of his lovers, but his way of conveying that is...questionable. “Thank you, Katsuki.” You hum before putting your food in your mouth. The blonde just grunts and glances over at Izuku to make sure he’d been eating as well before ultimately letting himself eat.

There weren’t many conversations shared at the dinner table as you all ate tonight, but the three of you still remained—comfortably seated around the table, sitting in silence.

The three of you were in bed now, trying to go to sleep—a task Izuku seemed to be struggling with as he squirmed where he lay, nestled between the both of you. He was hard, so painfully hard—so much so that he thinks he might combust.

His breathing grew shaky with every passing second, till eventually, he gave in—he snuck a hand down his pants, grabbing hold of his shaft somewhat tightly as a poorly repressed whine left the cusps of his lips.

Quickly he slaps a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence his whimpers and for a moment it works—at least he thinks it does before your eyes flutter open. “‘Zuku? Are you alright–” Your groggy inquiry is cut short as you peer down at where his other hand had been. A tired smile flourishes on your lips as you gaze back into his eyes with heavy-lidded ones. “Want some help with that?” You chuckle softly as you move your hand to shroud his.

“Please” was all that slipped from his lips as his cock ached in your grasp. “I got you, baby, don’t worry.” You whisper into the fat of his cheek as you leave a feather-light peck on the freckled skin.

His taut, sleek belly shuddered with each languid stroke, each sloppy kiss on his neck, it was almost too much. You glance at him once more, kissing the hand he had clamped to his face before gently moving it away so you can capture his lips in a long, drugging kiss.

Those soft pink lips of his are now a beautifully swollen, slick mess that your tongue sweetly invades. You drink in his blissful moans like water as you move to straddle one of his muscular thighs, your core shivering at the stimulation of his leg grazing against your clothed clit.

“‘M gonna cum…hah, oh fuck—’m gonna cum!” Izuku gasped, his body shaking violently as he spilled himself in your hand. He bit down on his lip to somehow repress his cries, but your lips ensnared his with an infectious fervor in hopes of suppressing his noises until his orgasm subsided.

“You couldn’t wait till morning?” A gruff voice grumbled, rubbing at his ruby eyes before glaring at the two of you—both of you sitting there like a deer caught in headlights. The blonde lets out a tired huff as he shuffles out of bed and moves to the foot of the bed, his scarlet hues are tired yet hungry as he gazes at the both of you. “C’mere.” Katsuki coos, nodding over to you.

Slowly, you slide off of Izuku’s meaty thigh before you crawl over to the man towering over the bed, his hand sun-warm as it cups your cheek. “Clothes off for me, yeah?” The question seeps from behind his lips like honey, yet the firmness in his tone lingers—making the question seem more like a gentle demand.

You oblige, shimmying out of your t-shirt and panties before the blonde pulls you into a searing kiss—soft but voracious. And as the both of you part from the warmth of each other’s lips, he whispers against your kiss-bitten lips, “Be a good girl for me and sit on his cock,” his thumb caressing the plush skin as he continues. “And don’t move till I say so.”

His eyes carefully watched your every move as you turned to face your speckled lover before hovering over his rigid shaft that’d been prettily coated in the slickness of his orgasm.

Choppy breaths were now caught in your throat as you eased yourself down onto him—the viridescent-haired man released short, shallow gasps with every inch of him you took before you finally buried him to the hilt, causing him to harshly suck in a breath from the overstimulation.

There’s a faint dip in the bed as Katsuki presses his body close to yours, kneeling on the mattress between Izuku’s legs. You feel the warmth radiate from his muscular frame and his signature caramel scent followed close by, his coarse hands gently kneading at your honey-soft breasts, occasionally flicking at the velvet nubs that center them.

It’s hard not to squirm as the silky touch of a tongue slid over every mark that the blonde left in his wake—your neck and shoulders, nothing but a canvas in his eyes. One of his coarse hands glides down the expanse of your torso—slipping from the soft ampleness of your tits, to tease at your clit. Your body jolts in his hands—eliciting an amused huff from him.

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zujime · 1 month

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helloo if you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you write for jonathan jjba? have a good day, just wondering ^^

i don't mind at all! :) honestly, i think it's because when i first made this account i had recently finished parts 1-4, and because of how boring i thought part one was i feel like that caused me to overlook his character. but i have been thinking about writing for him for like a year and a half because he's just so silly but I've just been too scared to put something out cause i often overthink abt "what if i write him out of character?" yk? tbh, i'd love to write for him now that i think abt it.🤔 anyway tysm for asking! :)))

#[♡]. mae’s talks

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zujime · 2 months

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the vi girlies will eat soon…eventually

i’m tryna get them out the drafts ya’ll i swear💀

#[♡]. mae’s talks

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zujime · 2 months

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─── izuku m. x f!reader

c.w. aged up, reader has female genitalia, some cockwarming, creampie, biting (if you squint), kind of lazy sex, p in v, grinding

note. a little drabble i made a while back :)

It was late. Really, really late and you both had to get up for work first thing in the morning, but you can’t help it. Your husband was all dolled up at the hero gala today with his fresh new haircut and the suit he said he “picked out just for you.” The room was occupied by the many whimpers and moans that left both your lips. He was hardly out of his clothes; suit languidly undone, pretty emerald curls messily sticking to his forehead, and pants hurriedly thrown somewhere in the room but he can’t seem to care as of now when you were sitting so prettily, pussy stuffed full of his cock.

His hands gently holding your waist while he thumbed at your skin, aching to fuck up into you. And you had an arm wrapped around his neck and your other hand on your phone, scrolling through the multiple pictures of you both that’d been taken by the paparazzi. “Look, ‘zuku.” You mewled as you grind down on his painfully hard cock, eliciting a breathy groan from him as he struggled to peer at the glowing screen on your phone. “Look how pretty you look in this picture.” You giggle, flashing him a tired smile that almost makes him cum on the spot.

All he could do was whine in response, both out of pleasure and sheepish flattery. His grip on your waist tightens slightly as he tries not to cum from your torturous rhythm, but he can’t help it—not when you toss the phone somewhere on the bed and start kissing and biting up his neck. His moans are ragged and needy as his hands grab at any part of you he can touch—your ass, thighs, hips, waist, whatever was in reach. Your ears catch his constant messy mumbles of “i’m sorry”. His hips stutter against yours as he fills you, forming a white ring around his cock that soon drips onto his balls.

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zujime · 3 months

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ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to be an unemployed depressed faggot

#[♧]. roll a dice

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zujime · 3 months

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─── astarion a. x f!reader [w.c. 1k]

c.w. no sex, kisses, comfort, fluff, mentions of sex (i think once so minors dni please), astarion not really having a grasp on the emotions he's feeling, established relationship, idk where or when this is taking place...maybe after the epilogue💀

a.n. originally this was supposed to be a smut but i chose not to add that cause i finished playing the game a while ago and didn't want to just make him seem like a sex fiend so, i guess this is fluffy comfort??? wrote it on a plane a bit ago.

Silence. A pleasant silence that’s shared amongst the two of you as you find your perch adequately on the forest’s floor. The air is lavish, yet its earthy scent continues to abide. The night’s azure has never seemed so buoyant��stars glittering its alluring gloom as the serene glow of the moon accentuates both of your features, leaving you content. Though, whilst you revel in the beauty of the night, your undead companion dwells on his despair-riddled anxieties.

He’s unsure of where these feelings emanated, where the ostensibly unending abyss that found its way into his belly derived, but it’s there. Perhaps, not solely fear, but a concoction of unpalatable emotions—still, none that can be properly put into words. He flits glances at you, almost in envy as you remain like you’ve aught but a care in the world while he’s overrun by feelings he can’t even begin to comprehend. Your hands are inches from each other—merely touching—but to his dismay, they aren’t.

He values your concern—your consideration of his privacy, but at this very moment, he yearns for your warmth—your touch—and he nearly begs for it, but the words get snagged in his throat, and that…feeling, that indescribable feeling he felt before creeps up on him.

Demur? Trepidation? He’s unsure. His forehead creases as he drowns in his thoughts, thoughts that you can virtually hear. “Astarion,” you call out, voice deficient in sonority yet still the changeless melody he’s come to love. You see his achromatic curls sway gingerly as he turns to peer at you with a hum in response. His bewildering, crimson orbs meet your heartfelt ones as you face him.

“Are you alright? I can practically hear your thoughts.” You snicker, yet the sentence remains laced with everlasting care that’s evidently conveyed by your expression. Had he not taken notice of your solicitude, he would’ve blanketed his sentiments behind a pompous remark in hopes of pacifying you, but he noticed and by the look of it, you don’t plan on simply dismissing whatever may be agitating him.

A small noise comes from his gullet—reluctance. “I—I don’t know..” he utters, almost inaudible, though he’s quick to correct himself. “What I mean is… I’m…” his mouth opens just to close as he searches for a word, a word that could properly construe what’s on his mind. However, after what feels like an eternity to him, he finds nothing. Sighing before muttering another, “I don’t know.”

Softly, you smile at him, letting your hand slink closer to his. The cusps of your fingers skimmed his well-kept nails before gradually glissading further—still cautious. He watches—body taut and breathing steady; eyes trained on your palm shrouding his while glancing up at your genial yet attentive eyes.

Your hand finally locates his bleak one, lingering lightly, granting him the opportunity to pull away if need be, but all he does is gawk at your hand over his in crudely repressed awe. It’s almost frivolous—the two of you have held hands before—hells, you’ve even had sex together, but still, the sight, the feeling of you only caressing him is enough to make his heart spur to life. His blood-red eyes are precarious but beholden; grateful that you see him—that you can hear his cries and heed them, even when they’re silent.

The husk of gratitude practically falls from his pinkish-pale lips, but he refrains, instead he tangles his hand with yours, giving it a deft squeeze before exploring your eyes, seeing if you understand his modest gesture. You do, the warm grin that adorns your face grows and shows that more than anything; you understand. And regardless of Astarion generally having something to say, you understand that in plights such as these, the words seem to slip away from him. His lack of experience in such intimacies shows to his discontent, but under your welcoming gaze, he’s all but ashamed.

His elegant orbs strive to hold your stare, flitting amidst the tree and you—anxious. Your head tips slightly, brows raising as you try to keep his gaze, wordlessly asking “What’s wrong?”. His mouth reluctantly opens purely to close once more as he searches for the proper words. His eyebrows crinkle as he shakes his head somewhat—curls moving with him—before he opens his mouth to speak. “May I…kiss you..my love?” His voice is nearly a whisper—the shell of what his voice once was—and his inquiry is smothered in hesitance. “Is that what you want?” You catechize, not to pester him or belittle him in any way, but to ensure that he wants this.

He chuckles almost, certain of his answer. “Yes, more than anything.” A smile decorates his lips—not smugly or flirtatiously, but fondly; adoringly. His eyes soft and filled to the brim with desire and love. You nod, scooting your body closer to his, hands still interwoven while your free hand tenderly cups the soft skin of his cheek, thumbing at the skin as you take in his grace.

His other hand grasps your wrist gingerly, peering at you before he leans into your touch, letting his eyes fall shut. His breathing coming to a noticeable lull as he waits for the feel of your lips on his. Gradually, you inch your face towards his before closing the gap—before your lips find their place against his. The kiss is a little sloppy but pleasant—warm like a summer’s sun—though, on his end, laced with ambiguity. Not towards you, gods no, but himself rather. He’s kissed more than enough times. What is he possibly unsure of?

Inundating you. The last thing he seeks is to exhaust you with a love that’s been quelled and left to rot for an eternity’s end. He assumes such an influx of intense emotions may seem daunting to you, even after all the absurd things you’ve both dealt with. He’s dubious—not sure if you’ll continue to stick around when these affections are unveiled.

Yet, with a light squeeze from your hand and the compassionate caress of your thumb across his cheek, he caves. Everything embedded within him that was devised to be long forgotten, divulges into the kiss. It remains inept, practically inexperienced, but now it was…devout, filled to the brim with a fondness that’s been obscured for centuries. The palm he kept latched onto your wrist is now firmly planted beside you on the soil as he deepens the kiss with unceasing avidity.

His inhalations up their pace as he inclines further into the kiss, jaded and muffled moans reaching your ears. As lovely as this is, you can hardly breathe. Your head is reeling and it feels like this kiss has gone on for hours, but it’s only been a few seconds.

Astarion’s pale cheek grows cold as you drift your hand down to his chest, pushing him away so you can finally part for air. You’re both gasping for air—more so you than him—but still you giggle and wear that infectious smile he could never get tired of. For once, there’s life—color—in his blanched skin. His cheeks become balmy and tingly with a sensation he’s yet to put a name to.

Once you’ve finally caught your breath, you sigh. “Wow,” you chortle, your grin growing wider by the minute. “I—wow…” he quite literally took the breath out of you—and the words too. “Can you…can you kiss me again?—only if you wa-“ Before you could correct yourself, his lips capture yours anew. They’re gentle this time yet still laden with love. He’s got you in a haze, keeping your attention on his lips as he presses you onto your back, slowly and gently.

His eyelids are heavy, as well as yours as he pulls away. Heated breaths melding with one another. Crimson hues inspect yours for a moment, fanged jaws separating to speak. “Uhm…darling?” He begins, his voice isn’t audibly shaky but his eyes convey his disquiet.

“I want this, I’m sure. If this night becomes one of…well, passion, I know that I would love to indulge in you and all of your allure, but if this does lead to more—would you be alright? H-having sex with me, of course...” he asks in such a hushed tone, as if others were surrounding the two of you.

“Of course, Astarion.” You snicker faintly, nudging a stray spiral behind his pointed ear before cupping his cheek. He feels safe when he’s with you—his home; his sanctuary. He melts in your touch, pliant in your benevolent hands. His lips brush your palm as he turns his head to allot a peck on the skin before stashing his face in the crook of your neck. He has all but the intention of wallowing in the ingratiating taste of your blood. As of now, he simply wishes to cherish you and the time the gods have blessed him with at this moment.

His body abates when he feels you tenderly carding through his hair with your fingers. “Thank you” he emits, prodding at your pulse point with his nose as he finds his place. “For what?” Your tone remained benign but the confusion within it couldn’t be more apparent. Astarion goes mute for a moment, arms bandaging around you tight but not constricting you. “For...everything. I just—I don’t feel pressured, or disgusted when I’m with you,” he’s so quiet—loud enough to hear, but still so quiet, almost as if his voice longs to hide away, but he perseveres.

“With you, I feel…liberated. You view me as—you view me as a person, someone capable of thinking for themselves and not…” he falters for a bit, listening to the rhythm of your heart from your neck before proceeding. “… Not an instrument meant to carry out your bidding or something…along those lines...” His voice is weak, the vocal cracks poorly buried behind his words. “J-just…thank you.” He sighs into your skin and melts when you leave a light peck just below his pointed ear.

The gesture seems to spur him on as his stillness transcends into never-ending pecks on the junction of your neck and collar; slow wet kisses. His hands feel at the plush fabric of your shirt before sliding them beneath it in search of a warm place to shelter his touch-hungry hands. His fangs graze your skin as he kisses it, but never do they puncture you. His touch—though ravenous—is laden with the intent of ensuring something; ensuring that you’re here with him, that you’re real.

His kisses begin to trail up your jaw before snaring your lips. His thumbs rub at your sides as he revels in your serenity. His deathly cold body molds perfectly with your radiant warmth. The lids of his eyes flutter shut as he basks in it, basks in you and all that you do to him.

You make him feel…whole, as if the missing piece in his corroded life had been you and the unending hospitality you grace him with. To you, it’s human decency, but to him…it feels like much more, so much that at times he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Your heat acts as the sun’s rays that he’ll never have the courtesy of feeling on his skin—at least, only in your absence.

He longs to continue savoring your lips for an eternity’s end, longs to withstand the dizzying sensation that comes with it, but he parts—reluctantly. He pulls away and peers at you—at your lips swollen and wet from his, your eyes that gleam back into his, and your face that adorns an expression of pure bliss, something only he can bring upon you. A grin finds its place on your face as you admire him, it’s gentle as you let a hand move to push a stray curl from his face before gently caressing the shell of his pointed ear. He shudders slightly at the feeling, almost letting a pleasurable sigh escape his lips as he rests on you comfortably.

#astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion imagine #astarion x y/n #astarion drabble #astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 astarion #[♪]. astarion #[☆]. practice

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zujime · 3 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

- series

to be announced

── ☆ ──

- oneshots

to be announced

- drabbles

♪ comfort cuddles - astarion a.

── ☆ ──

- headcanons

to be announced

#[♡]. gallery

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zujime · 5 months

Text

sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader

(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always

my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.

2k words

Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.

“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer.

“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.

“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.

One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more.

He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing.

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there.

“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.”

“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.

“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”

The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you.

His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back.

You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders.

Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.

“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.

“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”

“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.”

His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”

You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. “Mhm.”

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips.

Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body.

“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.

He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.

Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.

And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.

He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.”

He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.

---

The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.

He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.

His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him.

God forbid he won’t deliver.

He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off.

His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.

He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.

---

Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.

Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel.

You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.

Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind.

The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot.

Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”

“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come.

He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.

When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.

“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”

His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.”

“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”

You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip.

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.”

He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug.

“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”

He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart.

He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.

He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”

He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled.

He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”

You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material.

“Gale,” you whimper.

He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent.

He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.

“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“

“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.”

He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you all to myself,” he grits.

You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves.

Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching.

Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you.

You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage.

“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk.

“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?”

“Mhmm…”

“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—

Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.

#[♧]. sweet treats #[♪]. gale

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zujime · 5 months

Text

moon sick. | astarion

›› pairing: astarion x f!reader

›› wordcount: 2.5k

›› genre: smut, established relationship

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: whilst on the road, you get your period. astarion, being the loving, caring, supportive boyfriend he is, offers to help. he has no ulterior motives. obviously.

›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk

you wake with a start, astarion’s cold arm a comforting weight across your waist. you can’t think what could have possibly woken you up so suddenly, as you listen for any untoward noises around camp. but there’s only astarion’s steady, gentle breathing behind you and gale’s obnoxious snoring echoing from the other end of the clearing.

as you settle back down on your bedroll, however, you become aware of something sticky and wet between your legs. could be that a wet dream concerning your beloved has you in such a state, but you don’t remember dreaming of him last night. no, now that your senses are returning to you, you remember that last night was reserved for another visit from your so-called guardian. so what … ?

you toss your end of the blanket aside and groan, throwing your head back against the pack you’ve set out for a makeshift pillow. doing so earns you another yelp; must have made contact with one of the stems of the many apples wedged into your supply bag.

astarion is on his feet in an instant, startling you; you weren’t even aware he was awake. not that elves ever truly sleep. it always slightly unnerves you to feel him levitating beside you in his meditative state. ❝ you’re hurt. ❞ his voice is rough, thick with inertia. ❝ i swear i’ll find whoever did this and bleed them dry. we should never have trusted that damned cleric; shar this and shar that. i’ll shove her blessed shar right up her — ❞

he’s already kicking his own pack aside to stomp his way out of the tent when you hiss, ❝ astarion! ❞

luckily he’s not too aggravated to stop and give you a glance back so you can explain in a low murmur, ❝ it’s my cycle … ❞

astarion stops short, one pale hand clutched to his chest. ❝ oh … i — ❞ he waves that same hand now toward the opening of his tent. ❝ i thought … ❞

❝ i know what you thought, ❞ you sigh, more weary knowing what’s to come over the next 7 days than you are of him, than you could ever be of him. ❝ but it’s not. so just come back to bed. please? ❞

❝ i thought you’d never ask … ❞ he purrs, back to his normal self.

unfortunately, you’re doubled over in pain before he’s even halfway back.

❝ i knew you were in pain. ❞ astarion’s back at your side in a flash. ❝ just tell me who and i’ll — ❞

❝ i am, ❞ you gasp, ❝ in pain. but … not because anyone hurt me. well, more like mother nature cursed me. ❞

a particularly bad cramp seizes you and your hand flies out, clutching the front of astarion’s silky tunic. you press your fingers in to feel his cold, broad chest. the sensation calms you a bit … until yet another bout of pain rolls through your midsection.

icy fingers find yours, ghosting over your knuckles. ❝ shall i … see if the druid can make you something? ❞

you shake your head, tugging at his shirt. ❝ just lay with me. please. ❞

astarion’s skin is blessedly cool against yours, as it always is. you lean into him, pressing your face against his frigid neck, soothing your burning cheeks.

his glacial hands find the edge of your tunic, and then the small of your back, which helps more than he could possibly know. you shudder against him, pushing, trying to get more of him.

❝ you know … ❞ astarion sniffs, delicate voice very close to your ear. ❝ i have heard of one thing that is guaranteed to relieve moon sickness. ❞

pulling back, you glance curiously up at him.

he has that rakish grin on his face that you’ve come to know all too well in the past weeks. his reddened eyes roll away from you. ❝ come now, pup. you must know what i mean … sex. ❞ your heart jumps into your throat at the thought; you’re sure astarion can feel it beating harder against his own chest.

suddenly, his mouth is just under your ear, teeth rasping against the exact place he’s fed from you dozens of times before. ❝ i can smell it, my love. ❞

you don’t answer immediately; while you can’t deny the thought appeals to you, if for no other reason than to rid yourself of these damnable cramps, you’re also apprehensive. astarion feeding from your neck is one thing — still intimate, but relatively normal by vampire standards. to have astarion feed down there, on that blood, feeding from your womb …

❝ you’re right, it’s a bad idea, absolutely disgusting. i don’t know why i — ❞

❝ do it. ❞

❝ eh … hm? ❞

❝ do it, ❞ you repeat, grasping onto him for dear life as another squeezing, crushing shock of pain settles in your stomach. ❝ please, astarion. i can’t take it anymore. ❞

it’s been many moons since your cycle has been this bad. traveling on the road without proper food or rest may finally be catching up to you, exacerbating things. not much you can do about that until you reach the city, though.

other than letting your vampire lover drink your blood, of course.

laying you gently back without another complaint, astarion slips the blanket off of you and reaches to undo your breeches.

anxiety overtakes you; there’s already blood on your trousers and the blanket, you’re going to have to wash them in the river as soon as you’re able. you can’t even imagine the scene underneath your pants … but you’re about to find out.

gently, astarion prizes the trousers from your legs, then gasps softly. ❝ oh, my love … ❞

prying your eyes from the ceiling of the tent, you finally look down. astarion is there, of course, looking lovely as always. except, however, the lines on his face look deeper, almost carved, and the dark circles under his eyes are darker, his eyes redder.

another spell of panic grips you; bright red blood is smeared across your inner thighs.

astarion looks dizzy as he takes you in, cold hands cradling the outsides of your legs. you’re about to apologize and shove him away, tell him this is a mistake, in fact you will ask halsin to make you something — and that’s when astarion mutters, ❝ you are exquisite, ❞ and dives in to have his first taste.

the feeling of his tongue on your thighs makes you shiver, and the cool night air wafting in from the tent flap isn’t helping. you grab the clean end of the blanket and drape your upper half, canting your hips up to tell astarion what it is you truly want.

because even through all the anxiety, there’s also a bubble of arousal blooming between your legs. astarion can’t tell, of course, not through all the blood down there, but you sure as hell can. you have the most perfect creature you’ve ever set eyes on between your legs; how could you not be aroused?

❝ all in due time, ❞ astarion chuckles, voice muffled against your thighs as he continues to clean you up. thoroughly. too thoroughly.

❝ you always tease, ❞ you whine, knocking one of your knees against his ribcage.

this time when his gaze flashes sharply to you, his eyes are the reddest you’ve ever seen them. it makes you shake.

astarion’s nails dig into your hips, deliciously, wickedly. you tremble, reaching for him. he chuckles and kisses the inside of one of your wrists, which leaves a smear of blood. ❝ always such a needy little pup for me, aren’t you? ❞

you don’t even have time to nod before he dives back in, his mouth exactly where you want it this time. his lips suction around your clit, tongue lapping out lower down to scoop a sizeable pearl of blood into his mouth.

this time, astarion is the one who shakes. he lays his cheek against your still-bloody thigh and shudders. ❝ you’re going to be the death of me, ❞ he sighs, and you can see him skirting his tongue around his mouth, flitting over his lips, savoring you.

you huff. ❝ you’ll be of me, too, if you don’t keep going. ❞

❝ so pushy, ❞ your lover mutters, but there’s absolutely no heat in his words as he obeys your command and buries his face back into your blood-soaked cunt.

for a while you just lie back and enjoy yourself, and let astarion enjoy himself as well. his arms are strong around your legs, holding you in place so you can’t squirm away. it feels way too damn good, you may have been tempted to try. but as it is, you can’t do anything but revel in the silky feeling of astarion’s tongue lapping up everything you have to give him, his fangs catching every so often on your clit, making you see stars.

at some point, you glance down at him and gasp. ❝ your shirt! ❞

you know how much he prides himself on his physical appearance, and now there’s blood staining the front ruffles of his normally immaculate tunic.

he glances down and tuts, frowning. ❝ oh well. it’ll have to go with the rest. ❞ just like that, he rips it off and tosses it with your soiled trousers.

he must be in heaven, you suspect, if he’s willing to discard his cherished clothing for you.

now shirtless, astarion gives one last gentle kiss to your clit and then slowly starts to climb your body. there’s blood dripping from his chin, staining the rest of the blanket wrapped around you. but more importantly, his broad chest is skating up the expanse of your bloody cunt as he comes, and your clit throbs seeing all that red coating his torso.

❝ astarion! ❞ you gasp, and he grins, mouth full of your blood.

❝ i’m loathe to ask you for a kiss, ❞ he whispers, so low you can barely hear him. ❝ just one. i promise. ❞

you swallow thickly, and he waits for you to lean up, pressing your lips to his in the softest kiss you can manage. blood squishes between you, and you can feel it coating your lips as you lie back down.

one lap of your tongue against your bottom lip and you grimace, spitting and rubbing at your mouth with the back of one hand.

astarion laughs heartily as you mutter, ❝ ugh, not for me. ❞

❝ more for me, ❞ astarion says, almost gleefully.

he’s obviously preparing to get back to it, but you keep him close with your hands on his shoulders. ❝ i want you. ❞

brows furrowed, astarion squeezes your waist. ❝ darling, you have me. ❞

❝ inside, ❞ you beg quietly, which you know enjoys immensely.

your next step might be a mistake, but you decide to chance it. bracing yourself with your legs wrapped around him, you thrust up, dragging your wetness along the front of his trousers. you can feel that he’s hard, and now there’s blood all over his pants. you’re hoping he won’t mind, considering his tunic is already ruined for the night as well.

luckily he doesn’t seem to, dark gaze sweeping down over the two of you covered in your blood, and then back up. ❝ i thought you’d never ask. ❞

his trousers quickly follow his tunic, erection jutting up between your legs.

❝ he looks happy, ❞ you giggle, as his swollen head prods at your blood-soaked entrance.

❝ to see you? always. ❞

having astarion inside of you is normally a relief, a release of all the rampant, pent up emotions this journey has bestowed upon you.

tonight is different.

with all that blood flowing south, your womb is aching, you're sore and swollen as astarion’s cock spears through your lips. every thrust sends a fresh flow of blood down his shaft, which earns you a tight growl from the vampire as he takes the backs of your knees in hand and shoves your thighs back toward your chest, eager to get even deeper inside of you.

and you’re eager to have him, nails digging into his chiseled back, the hard marble of his jaw knocking against your shoulder as his lips, slick with blood, find your ear again. ❝ are you feeling better, pet? does my cock soothe that ache inside of you? the ache that raged inside of you, until you met me? until i filled you up in every lovely way possible? ❞

his words make your brain go haywire, knees shaking around his ribcage, toes curling, your mouth rubbing comfortingly at his cool shoulder.

more than that, you do feel better. the more aroused you become, the more blood flows out of you, the less painful your cramps become. until you’re pushing down against him, trying to ride him at the same time as he’s shoving himself inside of you with reckless abandon. until you can’t remember why you started this in the first place, other than to wind up begging for him to finish inside of you.

❝ inside. please, astarion, inside … ❞ it’s hard to even think clearly enough to form words, your mind consumed with the sight of his beautiful body moving atop yours.

you assume he’ll make you beg, as he so often does; he loves hearing the desperate, pleading tone in your voice that tells him all he needs to know — you belong to him.

but he doesn’t. he fucks into you as hard as he ever has, his thick cock gliding against your engorged walls, making your eyes roll back.

and then the talking starts. the words that make you wish you knew whether or not vampires can actually have children. ❝ you want me to get you pregnant, love? want your belly to swell with my child inside of it? i will wait on you hand and foot, i promise. i would love seeing you walk around knowing you hold my heir, that you protected my seed so well that it grew into a child inside of you. ❞ astarion pauses momentarily to laugh, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. ❝ with all this blood, i know you must be fertile. ❞

both of you share a laugh, briefly.

and when you cum, together, he sinks his teeth into your neck with nothing but a quiet grunt, cockhead twitching and spurting inside of you.

you mewl softly, feeling the vampire trembling and shaking as he empties himself into you. your hands pet through his hair, soothe the back of his neck, across the scars circling his back.

the pain from before is nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a warm, fizzy feeling sitting low in your gut. astarion is bracing himself on his elbows above you, with obvious effort.

you pull him down to lay atop you; he’s not exceptionally heavy anyway.

❝ i love you, ❞ he sighs, nestling his face, chin still slick with blood, against your collarbone. ❝ and … promise me we can do that again. ❞

❝ i love you. and i promise. ❞

#[♧]. sweet treats #[♪]. astarion

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zujime · 5 months

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Hello! If possible, may I please request a Astarion x Reader story? Could I ask for maybe a little bit of angst where when the group are heading to Baulders Gate to confront Cazador and Astarion keeps having nightmares about losing Tav/reader to Cazador and just needs comfort that they are still safe and he is precious and needs protecting and hugs. All the hugs. Sorry, sucker for protective and worried loves. Please and thank you!

i'm such a sucker for protective!characters and hurt/comfort is my jam, so this prompt was right up my alley! hope you enjoy!

claws at my ribcage (astarion x gender neutral!reader, baldur's gate 3)

“Drink, boy.” Cazador’s voice crawls down the length of Astarion’s spine, deceptively soft. His hand is an iron bar around Astarion’s throat, nails digging into vulnerable skin, and bereft of any other choice, Astarion swallows another mouthful of blood.

You whimper against him, the sound rending him in two, but with your arms bound there is little you can do but resign yourself to your fate.

“That’s it,” Cazador urges, voice slick with satisfaction. His hand tightens around Astarion’s throat. “Drink, spawn. Drink deep.”

Unable to resist his master’s command, the tadpole dreadfully silent in the back of his brain, Astarion’s fangs dig deeper into your flesh. Your blood bubbles around them, coating your skin and his with red. Your cheek is wet against his ear, your small, gasping breaths growing thick and labored the longer he feeds.

You had stopped pleading for him to fight against Cazador’s control long ago, stopped gasping his name as if that were all it would take to bring him back to you. You’ve even stopped murmuring that you love him, that it’s alright, that you know he didn’t mean it. You’ve grown too weak to say anything, anymore.

“This is a gift,” Cazador murmurs silkily, his shadow swallowing you both. He releases his hand, moving away, but the weight remains, a brand on Astarion’s skin that will never ease. “A boon. Enjoy it, boy, and be grateful for my generosity.”

You’re growing so cold beneath his touch, your pulse waning. Fading. Astarion keens against your throat as he feels you slip away, a wailing, mournful sound, and feels Cazador’s laughter raking through his mind as you take your final breath.

Astarion wakes with a shout, eyes blind to all but the furrow he’d made of your flesh, slick with blood. It takes him a few long, tremulous breaths to realize he’s no longer trapped within the walls of Cazador’s stronghold but safely ensconced within the stretch of forest you’d decided to bed down in for the night.

His cheeks are wet. He thumbs at the tacky trail of his tears and is bombarded with the phantom sensation of your damp cheek pressed against his ear, the huff of your labored breaths as he fed from you, your cooling skin -

No.

He emerges from his tent with far less grace than he would have liked, grimacing at the racket he makes - he would rather not rouse the others if he could help it. Best to avoid the questions and concerns he would have to field should anyone see him in this sorry state.

Astarion glances towards your tent and nearly crumples with relief when he catches the beat of your pulse - steady, strong, and so unlike the thready thing that had echoed through his mind as you breathed your last. He’s already taken a step toward you when he realizes what he’s doing and forces his feet still. He refuses to burden you with this.

He stalks off towards the darkness of the forest, or at least he tries. Visions of his nightmare assail his mind - your limp body, the blood filling his mouth, Cazador’s cruel voice.

To hells with it, he thinks, a lump in his throat as he approaches your tent. He can’t banish the damnable nightmare from his mind until he’s certain you’re alright, safe. Whole.

Your soft breaths are a balm, lifting the weight from Astarion’s shoulders, but the sight of you - devoid of armor, your arms and legs akimbo in slumber and your face slack with sleep - is enough to make his eyes sting.

Gods, he can’t lose you.

The thought paralyzes him in place. Baldur’s Gate and Cazador’s palace are mere days away, and though you’ve both grown in strength, could your combined might truly defeat a vampire lord such as Cazador?

Cazador was ruthless. Merciless. The horrors of Astarion’s nightmares would not be beyond him, should he regain control of Astarion. The parasite had shielded him from his master’s touch for now, but would it hold within the vampire lord’s presence? Would they be able to stop the ritual in time? What would they - what would he - do afterward?

“Astarion?” Your soft voice pulls him free of his quickly spiraling thoughts, your head rising from your bedroll and your brows furrowed in concern. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” he’s quick to assure you, forcing his lips into a placid smile. “Nothing at all, darling. Go back to sleep.”

You study him for a moment, a gentle realization stealing across your face before you gesture him inside. “Come here.”

He wants to refuse, to placate you with falsities and steal away to wallow in his torment in peace, but it’s impossible to resist the soft curve of your body as you beckon him closer, the sleepy slant of your eyes as you await his approach.

He mutely crosses the threshold and allows himself to be drawn down onto your bedroll, fitting himself against your back and curling an arm around your waist. Your body slackens against his, trusting, warm. Alive. Astarion releases a trembling breath against your shoulder as he feels you breathe, the tightness in his chest finally beginning to unfurl.

“What happened?” Your voice is a soft murmur, your fingers wrapping his wrist in a gentle hold.

Astarion shakes his head, unable to speak. Fear has locked his tongue, fear of losing you to Cazador’s cruelty, and he can do little but bury himself within the sanctity of your throat and listen as your heartbeat pulses and wanes against his cheek.

You push your fingers through his, squeezing at his hand. “We will defeat him, Astarion,” you murmur, and he doesn’t have to ask how you know what’s on his mind. “You have my word.”

He laughs then, or tries to. It comes out strangled. Wet. If only a vow were all it took.

He feels you turn, feels your fingers push through his curls. When he opens his eyes, it’s to your cheek nestled on the bedroll beside him, your expression gentle, sweet, but your eyes afire.

“We will defeat him,” you repeat, and for a moment Astarion can see it, Cazador lifeless beneath your heel and those cruel, mocking eyes empty at last.

“I almost believe you,” he murmurs, lips tilting into a smile that he doesn’t quite feel.

You smile, too - warm, always warm - and curl your arm around his waist, drawing him into an embrace. “I can work with almost,” you quip, startling a laugh from Astarion’s throat - a ragged thing, yes, but true.

And for a moment, it’s enough.

#[♧]. sweet treats #[♪]. astarion

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zujime · 5 months

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I present to you: at no point in the game is Astarion actually ready for a romantic relationship

Tav is the first person he drank from

The first person he has consensual sex with after 200 years

And he says to them: no one is like you. You're YOU

He genuinely believes that Tav is the *only* person who would be this way, even if it isn't true. He does fall in love with you, he does want you, but I present to you the idea that if things hadn't gone down EXACTLY as they had, Astarion NEVER would have initiated a partnership/romantic relationship for YEARS after escaping Cazador for good.

The man is coded for survival, for self-preservation, and is inherently selfish by nature. It is only because Tav gives selflessly and determinedly reinforces wanting to be with him that he caves in and allows it, but if you try to leave he's thrilled. This is for the best he says, you don't deserve this facade from me he says.

"I don't know how to be with someone even if I want to. I want this to be real but I don't know what real is. I need to not have sex right now"

In act 2, if you break up with him, he agrees with you. He thinks it's the right thing for you because hes not ready. He won't say this unless you initiate a break up but how could he possibly let go of the best thing that's happened to him in his entire undead life? He wouldn't toss out the treasure of you even if he didn't feel ready.

It really does take a patient, calm, supportive Tav to get him in the end, and he DOES want you, I'm not arguing that

I'm arguing that that man is not ready for a committed relationship, doesn't know what a healthy relationship looks like, and in an ideal situation if he thought he had time and options in his life and if he felt safe he would have focused 100% on himself first for a VERY long time.

The tadpoles, the adventure, the pressures of the battles, the fighting the revenge the ascension and the ritual he has to fight or succumb to the fact that the sunlight is gonna nerf him again- all of this contributes to the perfect scene where Tav gets him right "out the gate", first by being a mark and a target and then by simply *not breaking it off with him*

And yes he's in love to the best of his ability to know what love is at this point

And yes he wants you very much

But the man is going through the biggest whiplash of his life and I can say with confidence that he's not... *Ready*. And after all is said and done, Tav will have to continue to be patient with many things with him. There are still a lot of hurdles. He may be with them for a long time before he wakes up one day and realizes, really really realizes, that he's ready.

The power dynamics are off, they're imbalanced. How could he say no to a perfect mark that gives him everything ? Blood, sex, waits when sex is off the table, never breaks up with him never leaves no matter how he rails against them? He can't. He won't, and he doesn't want to, but that doesnt make him emotionally ready for what a genuine relationship is.

He has to learn it, with you, over time, but I don't think he'd jump into learning that and going for it and seeing it as worth it if the situation were in any way different

Without the perfect storm of events, I don't see Astarion jumping into "commited relationship" to be clear, I'm not saying that he isn't capable of feelings or doesn't want tav it's just

It doesn't *seem* to match his character or his struggles to me. For a man that is completely self serving, he accidentally catches feels and then doesn't have the strength to cut you loose even though his act 2 confession is practically him asking you to leave him. If you take the Araj route in particular, he VERY plainly lays his shitty behaviour on the table as if daring you to punish him for it... Or maybe just expecting.

In his spontaneous scene it's softer, it's I love you but I don't know how to do this. And still if you say "I don't think you're ready to be in a relationship" he immediately agrees. In act 3, if you've stuck to him the whole time like glue, he never wants to let you go. Again, I think this level of connection is impossibly rare and everything had to happen as it did to get you there, but the power balance is off still. He says partner, equal, and he wants that. And he WILL get there

But he not only has to struggle with his past, his issues, his trauma, he has to struggle with the power imabalance that you're his Savior. YOU defeated Cazador. YOU protected him in camp and didn't stake him on sight. YOU fed him from thinking creatures for the first time. YOU are one of "a very few select people" who have had sex with him and not been slaughtered immediately afterwards.

You're everything to him

And by the end of the game you already see him trying to shift that power imabalance because HE SEES IT. If you say you'll protect him he WINCES and disagrees, he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be below you, but he sees himself that way anyway. And to me, that's the sign that he wasn't ready, he still isn't ready,

But he will be, one day. And I think that makes it a better written romance than thousands I've read, because it's not perfect. There's grey areas. There's things that can make you uncomfortable. There's parts of it that aren't healthy and won't be for a while. Who knows how long until he feels like he's your equal? Until he feels like this relationship is something he ever would have chosen if things were different?

But he does choose you. He does. He wants you. He'd just never have gotten the chance to if it hadn't been "right place right time" imho

#[♪]. astarion

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