#⁺. ʚ astarion ɞ ⋆˙ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

verbenaa · 2 months

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opus 4 (nothing compares to the sighs that fall from your lips)

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:

“Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?”

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.”

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𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader

𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, 18+

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 6.9k

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: exhibitionism, frottage/thigh riding, clothed sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, vampire bites, blood, soft dom astarion, tailor astarion strikes again

𝑎/𝑛: if larian can't give us a masquerade, then i will! welcome to my current fixation which has been this masquerade ball fic. idk there is no rhyme or reason to this, its just fun and indulgent and glittery. i hope you enjoy and please like/comment/reblog etc ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

ao3 here

masterlist

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The chandeliers twinkle brightly from the cavernous ceiling above as you float across the polished ballroom floor, slippered feet moving swiftly as your dance partner twirls you around, an arm wrapped tight around your waist while the other grasps your hand as he leads you through the elegant steps of a waltz.

Wine burns through your veins as it sings a siren’s song, the sanguine liquid slipping down your throat with ease this evening, the vintage aged to perfection. Melted wax drips from the tapers decorating the room, their flames no more than whirls of shining light as you spin around and around, gown fluttering with every elegant movement.

It wasn’t often you attended these sorts of events, despite the amount of invitations you’ve received over the years. Being the most recent hero of Baldur’s Gate had its occasional perks it would seem, and this ball was certainly one of them.

It was the same routine every time. You would open the frequently ostentation envelopes, perfect calligraphy written with expensive pots of colored ink on the front and oversized wax seals in golds and reds and blues on the back. Inevitably, after a passing glance at whatever solicitation lay inside you would feed it to your hearth, letting the fire gobble it up as it burns to black.

This particular invitation, however, had caught your eye. The envelope itself was nothing of particular elegance, though the black of the envelope and silver lettering did stand out among the others in your post box that day. The matching silver wax seal on the back opened easily with a quick flick of your letter opener, and a singular word on the thick vellum piqued your interest in a way that few ever did on these inane things.

Masquerade.

You can easily recall the way the word made your heart jump, mind moving to the imagined scenarios of your younger years, the adventures of storybook heroines always featuring stories of flowing gowns and glittering masks.

Your own gown flows around your form as you dance the steps, soft fabric laying perfectly against your curves as braided straps of silk rest over your shoulders. The skirt flows down around a high slit up the thigh, velvet the color of the deepest ivy brushing against the marbled floors with every movement.

The metallic threads glow in the candlelight, embroidered designs of liquid silver cascade in small clusters down the bodice and onto the skirt like little groups of stars falling from the sky. The low back of the dress leaves you uncharacteristically bare, almost everything above the line of your waist exposed, though the air is warm against your skin with all the bodies present this evening.

Your dance partner cuts a dashing figure, a vision of velvet and quicksilver in his own right. He looked made for the part—like some dark hero from a storybook come to life in front of your eyes.

Gods, he looked so handsome.

Your cheeks flush as you watch him, following his lead as his hands tighten around you, that familiar knowing smirk decorating his elegant features even with the dark mask he wears obscuring the top half of his features, claret eyes framed with black and silver.

You pull yourself closer to Astarion, filling your senses with his familiar and comforting scent as he continues to lead you through the steps with sleek perfection, footsteps confident and head held high under his disguise.

The dance ends, orchestra moving on from the dreamy waltz you had just turned about to on the floor, a lilting concerto taking its place after a brief respite. Astarion leads you to the side of the dance floor, a hand poised on your waist as you walk to the fringes of the room.

You touch his velvet-covered shoulder, the intricately embroidered doublet matching the color of your own gown to perfection, down the same argent threads. The two of you were certainly coordinated this evening, if nothing else.

It had taken little to convince Astarion to agree to join you, his own love for overdramatic and lavish debauchery too much to deny something like a masquerade ball. He had certainly wasted no time designing outfits for the two of you, spending extra moments throughout his evenings constructing and embroidering them until every detail was as perfect as he had envisioned.

“Astarion!” You whisper into a delicately pointed ear, an emerald earring glinting in the candlelight as you rest your hand on his bicep, leaning your weight into him. “Go get us more wine!”

“You absolute lush.” His smile is fond as he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, careful not to disturb the delicate lace mask resting over your eyes, satiny ribbon tied behind your head in a pretty, perfect bow.

It was hard to deny his comment, especially when there was that delightful fuzziness that occupied your every sense, clouding everything in a wonderfully warm haze. You had easily lost track of the number of glasses you had imbibed over the evening, though you are fairly certain you simply misplaced some still half full goblets on the random trays of servers who wandered through the space.

Your thoughts swirl as he walks away from you in search of more spirits, his retreating figure a vision. He really was too handsome, dressed in his finery like this. Maybe you were wrong all these years to give your regrets to so many an occasion, if seeing Astarion dressed in the rich velvets and silks he deserved to wear was to be your prize.

A hand on your shoulder draws your attention, and you turn a moment later, reactions slowed by the alcohol still dancing in your veins. Behind you is a man, handsome enough—if only in a rather ordinary way—his warm brown eyes looking out at you from behind a mask of bright crimson as he gives you a friendly smile.

“I must ask how such a lovely gem such as yourself is simply wandering around alone on a night like this?” The words are meant to be suave and charming, though you ignore them, as uninterested in the man now standing before as you are in his words or the meaning behind them. Your eyes draw instead to a overflowing vase of flowers on a table behind him, a downright gaudy display of cultivated blooms bursting from an equally ostentatious vase.

“Do you happen to know what type of flowers those are behind you?” You point at them, not addressing the man’s prior words to you. He turns to look behind him with befuddlement, taking in the large arrangement with barely a blink of his eyes before he turns back, scanning up and down your velvet-clad figure.

“I’m afraid flowers aren’t my specialty.” His answer is short and no-nonsense, he was clearly a man uninspired and uncreative if that was the best he could come up with, the roll of your eyes mostly obscured by the lace covering your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you before, may I ask your name?” He sidles ever a bit closer, and you take a measured step back in response as you cross your arms casually in front of you, head tilting to the side as you observe him.

“How could you know? We are masked, after all.”

“It would be my honor, my dear mysterious Lady, to have your next dance?” His words are polite, even with such blunt forwardness.

You are saved from having to answer by an arm wrapping around your waist from behind, that wonderfully delicious scent of bergamot and brandy filling your senses with his presence.

The man across from you looks affronted at Astarion’s arrival, eyes falling to the arm wrapped tightly around your body and the angular face pressing against the crown of your head.

“Darling, won’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

“Oh! My love, you’ve returned!” Your smile is beatific as you turn towards him, eyes meeting his own you look for your promised goblet of wine.

“You never mentioned you were…partnered.” The man—what was his name again?—says before you two, a frown etched onto his features.

“Well, you never asked. This is my—” Astarion cuts you off before you can finish.

“Husband.” There’s a prideful possessiveness to his words that strike your interest, though you fight the urge to roll your eyes all the same. You and Astarion may be life partners, but married you were not.

“Here you are, my sweet.” He holds the full goblet towards you as it dangles between his elegant fingers, wine threatening to spill from its silvered edges. “Now, let us continue our fête elsewhere, hm?”

You give the man a bored look before turning away, downing your wine quickly before moving to place the empty silver on the table behind him, the overlarge bouquet towering over you. Without a second glance, Astarion takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back before stepping away with you into the crowd beyond.

He leads you to a secluded corner, the area obscured by the shadows of the lofty space. Astarion’s footsteps finally slow as you near the wall and he notices your raised brow, an expectant expression on your face.

“Married, Astarion? When exactly was our wedding day, just so I don’t forget the anniversary.” You speak wryly, an amused smile on your lips. “I’d hate to not get you a gift.”

“Well, we may as well be married. Don’t you agree?”

“I certainly don’t see a ring on my finger.” You make to look at your hand, a playful smile old your lips as you tease him. Astarion’s frown deepens, a look of childish petulance crosses his features, obvious even with the mask hiding his expressive eyebrows.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous that another man was simply talking to me?”

“Darling, I think he would have done more than simply talk to you if you’d let him,” He rolls his eyes, exhaling a huff as his hands come to rest above the swell of your hips, bracketing your waist with those talented, nimble fingers.

“Besides, he wasn’t talking, he was flirting with you.” You could swear he was pouting, amusement building with every passing minute as you bite your lip to hide your growing smile.

“I hadn’t noticed, honestly.” Your shrug is a touch too put on, the casualness of the action at odds with the finery you wear as the smile you try to hide escapes, painting your features with a certain cunning that Astarion knows all too well.

“Oh, I think you knew exactly what you were doing, darling, letting that man flirt with you.” Astarion’s hands on your velvet covered waist tighten as he walks you backward, not stopping until your back meets the intricately wainscoted wall, the two of you partially obscured by the heavy drapery of a nearby balcony.

“You’re far too smart, my sweet, to be so unaware.” The rest of ball swirls on obliviously around you both, dizzying in its opulence as music from the orchestra begins its climb to a rousing crescendo.

A coy smirk is the only answer you give him, the incline of your head daring him to continue as the lace covering your eyes only adds to your mystique tonight. The wine running through your veins turns your body hot, your confidence brimming with the help of the alcohol.

“And so what if I did, Astarion?” His ornate mask does little to hide the spark flaring to life in his crimson irises, thumbs tracing circles dangerously high on your ribcage as he steps closer into your space, the flowing skirt of your gown brushing against his own finery as he pushes close.

“Then I suppose you leave me no choice but to give you a little lesson, dearest.”

One of the hands at your waist skates up, passing over your breast before brushing up the column of your neck, hand wrapping lightly around your throat as you lean your head up to look at him. His fingers brush over leftover scars from feedings past, and the sudden pressure on your throat has your body on high alert, heat licking at the bottom of your belly as you inhale a shaky breath.

Astarion’s mouth crashes down onto yours, stealing your breath as he kisses you with abandon. You answer his kiss with your own hunger, opening your lips to welcome his tongue. Your free hand comes up to brush against his chest, fingers tightening in the fabric to pull his body closer as your lips and tongue move against his own.

Your back is pressed hard against the wall behind you, the molded wood cool as Astarion crowds you, his chest pushed tight against your breasts. You widen your legs slightly and he quickly fills the space, a covered thigh coming to rest in between the slight spread of your own.

Astarion’s lips move to your jaw, your head tilting for him as the hand on your neck gives one last squeeze before brushing down your side until it finds your hip. The thigh between your legs presses in harder, and you thank the Gods that Astarion had the wherewithal to design a gown with such a high slit as you feel the fabric of his pants against your bare skin of your upper thigh.

The hand on your hip pushes you slightly forward and your covered center makes contact, the hard muscles of his leg rubbing deliciously against your core. You choke on a moan, and you can feel his smirk against your skin as his lips caress that spot behind your ear you love so much.

“Do you think you can do it? Ride my thigh with all these people milling about?” His words are spoken low into your ear as your eyes fall shut at the tone of his voice, the devious lust that permeates every word sending a shiver through your body.

You bite your lip as you tug him closer, burying your face into his neck. You move your hips, starting with a slow movement, barely enough to provide any relief. But you feel it, all the same, cheeks flaming as you focus on Astarion and his leg, the alcohol drowning out the noise of the rest of the ball around you.

What must you look like, you wonder, to anyone who happens to look on? You hope that the image of you together is only that of a pair of lovers embracing closely, too lost in their own world to care about anything else.

You can feel your wetness growing with every pass over his thigh as your hips undulate in soft motions, Astarion’s body pressed as close as possible to your own, shielding you with his form as much as he can from your place in the shadows.

The feeling is wonderful, enticing in such a public arena, but it is far from enough. Your arousal grows, the dampness seeping through your underwear and onto the dark velvet of his pants as his cock twitches against you, his length hard as it strains against the fabric.

You feel his hand come down from your waist to brush against the slit where it falls against your thigh, his fingers tracing up and down your skin in teasing passes.

Those fingers slide inside the skirt of your gown, grazing the outside of your thigh as they make their way towards your ass. Your skin is hot where his cool fingers touch, a blazing line of heat marking every movement they make as he caresses the flesh barely hidden by your underwear.

“How wet are you, darling?” His words are sinful as he whispers them in your ear, hand easing under the line of your panties to rub against your bottom, his fingers creeping ever closer to the place where your aching cunt connects with his leg.

“Astarion,” You whine in his ear, hand gripping the collar of his doublet. “Please.”

You don’t even know what you are begging for, but as Astarion’s fingers finally find your wetness you are unable to conceal the moan that falls from your lips. His fingers move, just enough to gather evidence of your arousal on his fingertips.

“Oh, you sweet thing. You like this, don’t you?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as his hand trails away from the center of you, brushing back past your underwear and out of your gown. He brings the fingertips up to press against his lips, tongue sneaking out to lick at the slight sheen that coats them.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your breathing hard as your eyes trace his features.

Astarion’s hand covers your own where it grips at his collar as his other adjusts himself in his pants, hiding his erection as best he can from sight. He pulls away from you, helping you adjust your dress with quick fingers. Your eyes catch upon the sight of your arousal on his pants, catching the light as he turns. You cheeks burn at the sight, your swallow audible.

“Follow me, love.” You don’t question him on where he is heading as he makes a line for the closest set of ballroom doors, pace quick as he weaves the both of you through the sea of bodies that make up the cities’ finest members of society.

“Are we going home?” You whisper quietly as you follow, unsure if you were ready to commit the incandescent aura of the evening to memory alone quite yet.

It had taken hours to get ready, time spent bathing together before pampering each other—applying scented oils on skin and through hair, Astarion helping you pin your hair into its complicated updo this evening taking almost an hour alone, his fingers applying the rouge to your cheeks and lips with care as he admired your features with the utmost affection. No, you certainly weren’t ready to leave quite yet.

“It would be a shame to end the evening so early, don’t you think?” Relief and joy spills through you in equal measure at his words, eager to continue tonight’s festivities, whatever they may be.

You walk through the main hall, hand in hand with Astarion, the wine still buzzing in your head as he draws you up the large, elegant staircase of swirling marble. Your presence goes unnoticed as you pass others dressed in their own finery, shimmers of glitters and gems, silks and tulles flowing past as you climb step after step.

You make it up the rise of the large staircase, skirt twirling as you spin around momentarily to take in the scene of the party now beneath you. Its a world of luster that takes your breath away, everything filtered with the heady glow from the candelabras and wine flowing aplenty.

With a tug on your hand, Astarion leads you away from the center of the room, breaking off to go down a smaller corridor to the side before cutting aside on one or two more until you are isolated, the noise of the orchestra below now faraway and faint.

The hallway feels hushed and hidden away, safe from the prying eyes of society as the candlelight sconces adorning the walls flicker, dancing fragment of light illuminating the narrow corridor. Astarion walks you back with hands on your waist until you feel the half-paneled wall against your uncovered back, the wallpaper ornate with scrolling vines and berries, vibrant reds and greens contrasting against the darkness of your gown.

Astarion’s head bends to your chest, pressing a tender kiss onto the swell of your breast, over the place your heart beats in three-quarter time.

“Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?”

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer to your breasts as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.” His nose nuzzles at the flesh of your breast, breathing in your scent as he groans against you, pressing his hips against your own so you can feel the evidence of his prominent erection.

Astarion bites down into the flesh of your breast that rises above your gown without warning, fangs piercing the tender skin that heaves with your breath as he drinks in the sweetness of your blood. It flows thick in brightly colored streams, a surprised moan ripping from your lips at the sudden action.

He sucks from the swell above your gown, blood dripping to stain the bodice as he licks and tastes the rich claret of you made all the sweeter from the wine, his hand drawing down your belly before dipping lower.

He finds that slit on your thigh, hand working its way underneath before moving to cup around your wetness as you cover your mouth with your hand, hiding your moans behind a palm as your eyes flutter shut.

Astarion moans at the dampness he finds there, fingers quick to push aside the gusset of your underwear to run his fingers through your slick folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, spreading your wetness up and down the expanse of your center. You can feel his erection pressing against you, still hidden by his pants as he relishes your body’s reaction to his actions, lips still licking and sucking at the skin of your breast.

The fingers at your core move to rub your clit, the light pressure a relief as you bite your bottom lip to keep quiet, eyes glancing to the side quickly before closing once more to indulge in the feeling, his mouth not letting up as he savors your lifeblood.

“Astarion, what if someone sees us?” Nerves make their way into your soft voice, barely a whisper as your body tenses slightly with unease at the prospect of being seen by another. Astarion’s head lifts away from your breast, fangs leaving twin pinpricks on your chest, blood pulsing from the wounds in time with your heart as his eyes draw up to your own.

“No one will recognize us, my dear.” A finger circles your entrance, and your knees threaten to buckle under the pleasure. “Though we can stop if you want to.”

You hesitate and Astarion’s fingers pause to give you time to think, his mouth still drinking from the blood leaking from your breast, tongue licking at any stray drops.

“No,” You shake your head, needing little time to ruminate on the decision. “Please, don’t stop.” You let the desperation you feel run into your hushed voice as you give him your consent to continue, your hands in his hair brushing through the strands as you buck your hips into his hand.

“Thank the Gods.” His finger pushes in, working its way into you with sinfully slow movements, your head hitting the wall behind you as you let out a hiss at the feeling. You can hear your wetness as his finger dives deep, the sound of it obscene in the otherwise silent hallway.

“Gods, you’re so wet,” He kisses against your collar bone, nuzzling into the skin there as he breathes in your scent. “Who knew you were such an exhibitionist? Absolutely filthy of you, sweetheart.”

You whine at his words, Astarion coaxing more quiet moans from your lips as his finger pumps deep inside you. His free hand trails up to your shoulder, pushing off the delicate strap of your gown before moving down to pull at your bodice.

Taking care not to rip the velvet, Astarion succeeds in freeing the breast he had fed on, hand coming up to weigh it in a palm as his mouth licks at the exposed nipple.

He sucks on the hardened peak as his finger pulls out of you only to be joined by a second a moment later, the stretch barely noticeable with your wetness aiding his smooth thrusts in and out of your cunt.

His fingers curl against your walls as his tongue licks at your nipple, laving the peak as he finds that special place, deep inside your body and presses into it.

He’s relentless as his mouth works your breast and his beautiful fingers fuck you, his other hand squeezing the breast still covered, fingers working underneath the fabric to brush at the nipple.

It would be so easy to come like this, a fact Astarion does not miss as he can feel your body’s reaction, the telltale tension building inside you. Slowly his fingers leave your heat, brushing up against your clit with slippery motions as you whimper at the loss of them. He presses one last kiss to the tip of your breast, still wet with his lingering saliva, before he lowers to his knees in front of you.

“Astarion, what are you doing?” Your words are breathless as your hands run through his hair, the mask on his face slightly askew.

“I still seem to be a bit peckish still, though for a slightly different taste.” Warmth rushes to your cheeks as they flush, the alcohol still floating through your body painting everything in that same warm haze that has surrounded you through the night.

Astarion’s hands glide up your legs, brushing over soft thighs as he grabs at either side of the underwear where it rests low across your hips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pulls it down, guiding the thin, lacy fabric down your legs. He’s unhurried, clearly not worried about being caught or seen as he takes his time while his eyes never leave yours. He steadies you as you step out of the panties, pocketing the damp lace with a roguish smirk and raise of his brows.

His hand wraps around your thigh, pushing it up and pinning it against the wallpaper as he holds you open to his gaze. Your pussy is absolutely dripping for him, the sight of his otherworldly beauty as he stares at the center of you, open for him, takes the breath from your lungs.

There would be no mistaking what was happening if someone were to come upon you now—Astarion kneeling before you, supplicant, as he bares you to himself—unmistakable to anyone gifted with eyesight.

Astarion leans in to press a kiss to the thigh he has pinned, lips moving across the smooth skin with the lightest of touches before skipping over your weeping core to kiss the opposite thigh. You whine at the blatant misdirection of his mouth, hips bucking in indignation with as much motion as you can manage.

“Oh, I’m sorry—did you want something, darling?” He moves his face away from your body to shoot a look upwards, his features smug as he sees the abject desire in your gaze tempering the glare you shoot down at him.

“I thought you were still hungry, dearest.” You keep your words sweet, not letting the aching want you feel bleed into your voice as your eyes narrow.

“Patience, sweet thing. I’m sure I’ve taught you about it once or twice before, have I not?” His head dips forward once more, breathing in the scent of your essence with a performative sigh. “Now, ask nicely. And do use your words and tell me what you want.”

“Astarion!” You start, exasperation building as you contemplate the words to say to appease him. He could be so demanding at times like this, a trait you found yourself caught between loving and hating in equal measure, though ‘loving’ did usually win out in the end.

You briefly debate making him wait for your words, watching his own impatience grow as you play coy, but this certainly isn’t the time or place for what could be a long, drawn out battle of wills on who would break first.

“Fine. Pretty please, Astarion, will you do me the honor of licking my cunt until I come? Preferably before we get caught?” Your frustration mounts as you say the words though you find the strength to keep your tone as breezy and unaffected as his own, despite the slight embarrassment beginning to creep in as the elusive power of the wine fades ever so slowly with every minute that passes.

Astarion grants you your wish with a wide, feline smile, licking a stripe up the center of you, his tongue running through your folds before brushing lightly against your clit as he savors the taste of you.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

His tongue laps at your folds, taking his time to move up and down in languid strokes, never focusing on any one place. It’s a maddening feeling, a whine slipping from your throat as your hips roll, asking for more.

His tongue dips into your entrance, whorling around the opening as he tastes you, his moan against your cunt matching the one that leaves your mouth. Your hands tighten in his hair, hips writhing as his tongue thrusts inside you.

Astarion is eager to taste your essence, tongue flicking deep in your waiting wetness as hushed cries fall from your lips with every brush against your walls. You could sob from the feeling of the lightning hot pleasure that works through your body in time with every push of his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved, his mouth moving against your entrance as he works to plunge you closer towards ecstasy.

His motions are fast-paced, quicker than normal as he works to bring you to your peak, and you whine once more when he tongue leaves to lave at your folds instead. Two fingers are quick to replace his tongue inside you as he circles your clit instead, flicking the pearl simultaneously with perfectly timed thrusts of his fingers, curling up into that special spot.

“You really are so good when you set your mind to it, love.”

Your pleasure ratchets higher, a tremor running through your body as the leg supporting you grows weak with your impending orgasm, muscles in your thigh shaking slightly.

“Astarion, please don’t stop,” Your begging only serves to spur him on, tongue moving faster and his fingers curling faster with a repetitive motion that has your body tightening around him.

“That’s it, darling, come for me.” Astarion’s words are reverent, and you embrace them as you hurtle over the edge, euphoria rushing through your body, the feeling enhanced by the leftover wine as your fingers grip tight in his hair.

You come on his fingers and tongue, Astarion working you through the waves of your completion as they flow through your body, your cunt spasming tight as his tongue doesn’t stop licking at your clit. You bite the flesh of your lip, the delicate skin splitting under your teeth as you keep the sounds of your orgasm at bay, tiny dots of red spilling over your lips.

You uncurl your fingers from his hair, smoothing out the curls as your breathing evens out and your orgasm leaves you in a sense of pleasant euphoria. Astarion presses soft kisses against the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers finally slow inside of you before pulling out. He places one last kiss to your entrance, licking up the remnants of your come before he leans back and places your leg back down onto the ground.

He rises from the floor with a graceful motion, hands skating up your curves as his mouth crashes against your own. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he kisses you, the flavor of your own blood and come dizzying.

Astarion licks at the blood on your lip, sucking on the mark as it bleeds. You open your mouth to him, his tongue tangling with your own as he deepens the kiss. Your hands work in a frenzy with his own to loosen his pants, the button finally coming free in your rush to free his cock from the confines of his clothing.

Astarion pulls his hardness from his underwear and you pump him, the velvety feel of his shaft warmer than normal as your blood courses through his veins. He moans into your mouth, hips pressing closer to you as you work his cock up and down, his precome shining in the light of the sconces as you spread the fluid on the heat of him.

His hands move down from your hips, brushing over your bottom as he grasps under the curve of your rear, squeezing.

“Up.” You are quick to obey, eager to feel him inside you as you jump up, Astarion catching you as his hips pin you in place against the wall, his hands supporting your weight in a tight hold against your ass.

The half paneling of the wall presses into your back as you push your dress out of the way, the skirt easily parting around the slit as you guide his cock to your waiting cunt, still wet with your come. Astarion stares at your mouth as you lick at the precome that coats your fingers, pupils blown wide as you take a finger into your mouth and suck.

“Like the taste, darling?” Astarion’s erection finds your entrance, your wetness coating the crown of his cock as he bucks in shallowly, the head barely pressing inside you.

“Always. I think I’d like to have a little more.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you roll your hips against his cock, taking him slightly deeper inside your waiting warmth as you lick at his lips.

Astarion lets out a low growl as he pushes inside you in a single thrust, gliding home as hips meet your own. You both moan at the feeling of him inside you, the satisfaction of Astarion finally filling you euphoric as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Did you design this dress thinking about how you would fuck me in it?” Astarion sets a steady pace as he moves his hips, your own meeting his thrusts as best as you can with such a limited range of motion.

“Of course I did,” He licks at the blood drying on your lip. “I thought about how beautiful you would look coming on my cock wearing it, too.”

He pumps his cock harder, hips rutting against your own as your arms around his neck tighten, bringing him ever closer to you. Your lips meet once more, pressing against one another’s to silence the noises of pleasure breaking from your throats with every thrust.

“No one can make you come like I can, can they?.” His words come on an quiet exhale of exertion, tinged with the smallest bit os what sounds like possession, his lips brushing against your own with each syllable that leaves his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous, Astarion?” You can still feel the leftover fog from your orgasm, hands playing the hair at the nape of his neck, the strands soft against your fingers as you try catch your breath in vain, every thrust of his cock making it harder and harder to breathe.

“I want to hear you to say it.” The hands on your ass squeeze, cock hammering harder into your center. “Say: ‘No one can fuck me like you’.”

There’s a familiarity to the veiled desperation in voice, though its been years since you’ve heard it. You would know the sound of it anywhere, the cadence of his longing to be wanted and loved and cared for burned into your mind for eternity, settling there like a haze over your vision.

Your heart grows tender at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, pressing a kiss to his lips before giving him the words you know he needs to hear from your rouged lips.

“No one can make me come like you,” A kiss to the tip of his nose where his face rests close to your own.

“No one can fuck me like you,” A kiss to one cheek, then the other.

“There is no one for me but you, Astarion. Only you.” Finally, his lips—your love and passion pouring out onto him with the simple press of your lips against his, a hand coming to brush his cheek.

“Gods, I love you.” His thrusts grow sloppy as he grips your hips harder, mouth falling open against your own as his pleasure builds.

“I love you too.” You lips part with the tilt of your head backwards as Astarion hits a particularly deep place inside you, fingers curling hard into the fabric covering his shoulders. He thrusts faster, making sure to hit against the same spot on every push forward.

Astarion’s hand sneaks from behind you to press against your clit, rubbing quick circles as his thrusts grow frenzied, losing their rhythm as he chases his impending high, intent to bring you with him over the edge.

“Will you come inside me? I want to feel you.” You press a kiss onto the shell of his ears as you whisper the words, your tongue darting out to tease at the sensitive skin of the elegant point.

“Is that what you want, darling? My come?” His hips stutter at your words spoken so intimately as you clutch at him, the warmth of your cunt drawing him closer and closer to his peak.

“Gods, yes. Please!” You aren’t afraid to beg as his fingers strum fast on your clit as his thrusts hit deep, your vision clouding over as another orgasm nears.

“Then take it, love.” Astarion buries his face into your neck as he comes, hot spurts of his spend spilling deep inside your body as you ride him through his completion. The feeling of him coming is exhilarating, and his fingers don’t stop until you crest over with him, the contractions of your cunt drawing him in tight as you take all you can of him as he hides his moans into your skin.

You roll your hips on his still hard cock as you work yourself through your orgasm, Astarion still pumping his own shallowly inside you as he comes down, breath hot against your neck.

Slowly, the world settles back down, both you coming back to yourselves from where you stand against the wall, breathing slowing.

Astarion’s cock is soft as he pulls from you, his come sliding out with it to make a mess onto your thighs. Astarion watches as his come collects at your entrance, the fingers on your clit moving downwards to push it back inside you with a gentle motion.

“Waste not, want not, my love.” Astarion’s finger curls one last time to press against your walls as you squirm, your body overly sensitive in the aftermath of your orgasm.

He presses a kiss to your forehead before removing his finger, moving his hands to help you stand back on the floor with steady feet.

He pulls your panties out of his pocket, bending down onto a knee as he helps you back into them, gently lifting one ankle after the other as you still catch your breath, before he raises the ruined lace back up your legs.

He adjusts the skirt of your gown, making sure the velvet falls perfectly before he presses a soft kiss to your covered stomach. He rises, fingers tracing your form as he does, dragging the long forgotten silk shoulder strap back where it belongs as you work your breast back into the bodice.

“Astarion.” You touch at his cheek, capturing his attention as he looks back at you. His gaze is clear as his eyes meet your own, the beautiful crimson red of them soft as he searches your face.

“You really are the only one, Astarion. You are the only one I will ever love, until my dying breath. There will never be anyone else.” You watch as your words settle over him like a balm, the love you feel radiating into him as he accepts them into his own heart.

His features soften even as he scoffs at your words, his hand coming up to cover your own on his face despite himself.

“Oh, I know. Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it.” You let him lie, willing to let him keep this facade in tact.

“I’ll say it as many times as you wish.” Astarion’s hand takes your own where it rests on his face, pressing a kiss into the palm before lowering your joined hands.

“I’ll be sure to let you know, darling.” Astarion adjusts his own finery, settling the velvet back to rights as his eyes draw to the bodice of your ruined gown.

“Did you account for potential bloodshed when you designed the dress too?” You remark as you eyes follow his own line of sight, looking down at the blood staining the velvet dark with wet, sticky blotches.

“Let’s just be thankful that blood and wine look similar.”

“Nothing we can do about that bite mark though.” You sigh as you attempt to pull up the neckline slightly higher to no avail.

“Everyone will simply have to be left to wonder, then, won’t they?” Astarion bends down to press a fluttering kiss over the marks decorating your chest, squeezing your hand.

“Think you have another dance in you?” You squeeze at his hand back in response.

“I suppose we still have a few more hours before sunrise to wile away.” Astarion walks, gently pulling you after him as the pair of you make your way back to the glittering ballroom below. “Let’s go have some more fun.”

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #my writing #love u all thanks for reading kisses

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miaowitch · 2 months

Text

The Hardest Part

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read on Ao3 or below !!

gale dekarios x tav oc (baldur's gate)

cw ⋆｡‧˚♡ m/f, semi-public sex, fingering, innapropriate use of mage hand, smut with feelings, pet names, oc/canon

summary ⋆｡‧˚♡

AKA

Local Wizard might be obsessed with a Cleric of the Moonmaiden, will he ever actually tell her how he feels? or will he be alone with his cat forever in a library?

Elle was never the type to assume feelings. Gale wasn’t that elusive anyway. She could always tell how he felt, or at least weasel it out of him. Camp was quiet though, and a lot weighed on Gale’s mind. They had only been traveling a few months, everything was fine in Elle’s eyes. The elf found it easy to say that she considered her party to be very close friends with one another. Growing up, she didn’t have too many friends, so traveling with the group was more of a practice in socialization. When you’re known as the bookish nerd with a heavy devotion to Selûne; not that many people want to approach you in the grove. Except Gale just understood her. She couldn’t joke the same with anyone else, no one understood her when she went on tangents. Just Gale.

Their tents were in perfect eye shot of each other, it’s not like she wasn’t allowed to look in his direction. They set up camp by the shore for a reason, the lakeside is beautiful. Easily she could claim that she was looking at the water, but each time… Gale found her attention. It was always a pleasant distraction in the evening, her dear friend Gale wouldn’t blame her for her wandering eyes anyway. Though when he looked back for a second time, eyes locking directly with Elle before he looked away, she began to think. “The lake is right there, why does he look at me?” Elle had an imagination from the amount of romance novels in her collection, but never would she imagine someone falling for her. She could only picture herself as a spinster holed up in a grove far from civilization. Not that she didn’t notice the attractive qualities of everyone she’d met, the romantic in her could never be silenced. Gale just didn’t seem the type to pay attention to her when people like Wyll or Shadowheart traveled with them. Even Astarion was more appealing than her, in her mind at least.

For just a moment though, she imagined walking up to Gale and just announcing her suspicions. Her eyes for the third time had fixed on Gale. The moon broke through the trees and illuminated his tent now, as if her Goddess was giving her better sight for her fixation. She watched as he sighed, broad shoulders rose and fell quickly as he thumbed at the page of the book he definitely wasn’t reading. The water still distracted him.

Elle took a deep breath to gather her courage. The rest of camp had either retired for the night or had taken up an activity that they couldn’t be pulled from. She thanked Selûne, Elle wasn’t sure if she could handle Shadowheart’s cautious gaze as she watched her with the ‘dangerous wizard’. They’d all worked on their gripes with one another, but Shadowheart still struggled to see Gale as anything but power hungry. Elle couldn’t see him as anything but Gale. Quietly, she gathered herself, wrapped a blanket over her shoulders to help keep her warm on the walk over. The cool night air also helped cool off any embarrassment from rejection, too. It wasn’t that she expected rejection, Gale wouldn’t be so cruel, but she’d been wrong before. The crunch of the dirt beneath her leather shoes alerted Gale, snapping him from his daze. He seemed more on edge for the past few nights than he ever had. “Well, I didn’t expect your company tonight.” He smiled, as if all the previous concern had washed away. “What can I do for you, friend?”

“Is there something on your mind, Gale?” Elle asked, stepping closer and taking a seat on the cushion laid out by his own. He’d always been happy when she stopped by to sit with him for a chat, that he added a seat just for his favorite company. Gale only responded with a sigh, “Oh, just the usual melancholies of the enlightened mind. Brain worms and what not…” Gale’s comment only made her more suspicious, his moodiness was more than the usual tadpole concern. He seemed genuinely lost in his mind with something more. “Of course, it’s your usual weekly brooding session…” Elle looked off towards the lake, the moonlight dancing on the water. “You’re positive it had nothing to do with me? You kept looking-” She was cut off by Gale’s boisterously nervous laughter. “Oh, Elle, what would I be thinking of you for? Aside from your never ending wit or your b-” He sputtered to clear his throat, “Your vocabulary, I mean. My apologies. Perhaps the cold is getting to my head? I should retire.” He began to stand, but Elle grabbed onto his wrist. His pulse was fast, his face flushed, but he still lowered himself back to the patterned cushion.

“What’s really troubling you?” Elle asked earnestly. She didn’t catch onto his thoughts this time, she really had no clue what the wizard was thinking. For all she knew, the mindflayer transformation was upon him, and she would have to do the unthinkable. His hesitation didn’t fully melt away, but she could tell he was easing into the confession of his thoughts. “I just…don’t wish to burden you with my mind. It’s nothing concerning, but it just might be a little…complicated though.” Gale finally admitted, but still kept it vague enough to make Elle officially frustrated.

Complicated? Elle didn’t wish to brag, but nothing was too ‘complicated’ for her to fathom. She’d been subjected to a tadpole behind her eye, she could surely understand the inner workings of a dumb wizard. So, she scoffed. Rolling her grey eyes, she took her hand away. “Right, too hard for me to understand.” Elle now stood up. “I can understand when I’m pressuring you though. I apologize, Gale.” She felt offended, flustered, and most of all disappointed. Perhaps she’d just been misreading the signs from Selûne. “Not everything can be fixed, stupid Cleric.” Elle scolded herself internally, but was interrupted by Gale’s calloused hand grasping her wrist now.

“You must understand…the hardest part is understanding my own feelings for you.”

It clicked at that moment. “Oh...that’s why.” Elle looked around, hoping that no onlookers would interrupt them. “Y-Your feelings?” She felt like her heart was pounding straight out of her chest. “I just can’t get my mind off of you, Elle.” Gale sighed, removing his hand from her wrist to run over his hair earnestly. “I can’t even spend an evening without looking your way…” Brown eyes met grey now, eye contact holding for a moment before Elle broke the silence. She lowered herself back down to his level. “You…um…you mean that?” She questioned in an almost whisper, his response was an honest nod. “Did you not catch me staring your way earlier?” She leaned in, as if the secret would leave the space between them. “I was so afraid I’d been bothering you with my attention.” Elle’s cheeks felt so warm, but she refused to back away. Not with Gale.

“Did you not expect my adoration? Even after all this time?” He questioned, looking at her as if he was studying each feature. He just didn’t want to lose her with this new proclamation. “How was I supposed to ever expect this.. I’m not the type to fall for..” Elle’s own esteem issues would rarely surface, but she found it hard to find the good in herself. “Not the- Not the type to fall for? Elle, that is just utterly absurd.” Gale’s hand gripped each other in his lap, just to hold back from holding her. “How could you not be the center of all my attention when you challenge me so often. Your beauty shows itself in so many ways, how am I supposed to ignore you?” Now his right hand reached out to brush a piece of her longer bangs from her eyes. “I’m obsessed, honestly..” He sighed again, but now she understood his reasoning. Lovesickness wasn’t fatal, but it definitely could hinder a traveling party.

“How long..?” She asked finally, but Gale could easily answer. “When you pulled me from the portal..” He lowered his head, as if to be ashamed. “I suppose you’re not alone then..” Elle scooted in closer, the gap between them just kept getting smaller with each shared confession. When she pulled the wizard from the whirling portal, she almost felt like it was a divine gift from her Goddess. After being with two of the most sarcastic members, it was a breath of fresh air to have the wizard tag along.

“Gale, you don’t understand how long… I’ve wanted you to say this.” She sighed out, her manicured hand resting on his knee closest to her. Elle had such a hard time admitting her own feelings, even if she spent so much time worried about others. “I’m still having such a hard time even believing I’m not dreaming.” Gale’s throat bobbed as he swallowed his anxieties. “What can I do to convince you that you’re truly awake?” His voice was confident, with a slight waver. Not that his own experience was anything to worry about, but being in his tower for so long hadn’t given him a chance for practice. “What do you mean?” Elle asked innocently. Her experience in the love field was basically nothing outside of her novels and mage hand. She had no clue how to respond to his moves.

She didn’t need to respond, though, as Gale had leaned in now. Their lips met with a tender touch, Gale just couldn’t be anything but gentle with Elle. Her tension melted away at his touch. Elle didn’t feel uneasy or unsafe when it came to Gale. Even when the kiss became more intense, she didn’t feel any boundaries being crossed. Pulling her into his lap, Gale helped her sit on his thigh as he held her waist closer. The sound of the crickets chirping, the owls sounding off, and the water crashing soft on the shore just covered the sounds of their clothes rustling. Elle was the first to let her hands wander.

First, they traced his collar bone. Detailing each small scar and running over the low ridge of his tattoo. Then, she traveled lower with her left hand. She just rested it on his chest, but Gale was bursting just from her sweet grazing on his body. Breaking from the kiss, Gale panted to catch his breath. Elle just folded her head into his neck, leaving even sweeter kisses with every whimper he’d release. “Elle…p-please…hold on…” Gale begged, feeling himself about to burst. Elle thankfully relented. “I-I’ve never done anything like this before, Gale… I don’t know what I should do…” Elle confessed, hiding her flustered face in his shoulder.

“Allow me to help you then, my dear.” Gale whispered soft into her ear, not wanting to scare her any. “Will you trust me?” He smiled, pulling her back to look at him. Elle of course agreed. How could she not trust Gale Dekarios?

With a wave of his hand that wasn’t holding her, he cast a veil over the tent. The world seemed normal, just as if a haze had fallen over the tent. “What happened…?” She questioned, Gale just started to smile. “Just something to deter the others.” He leaned into her neck now, trailing kisses from the bottom of her ear to the base of her neck. “My tent appears closed now, so they won’t bother…this.” They were still in the night air, exposed, with all the risk warded off.

Gale’s free hand now moved to hold her thigh, causing Elle to gasp with surprise. Their lips met again, this time with more urgency. The spell could wear off at any moment, so they had to make it count in one way or another. Elle’s own hands began to move down again, this time pushing the limit. Gale groaned into the kiss as Elle palmed his already hard cock through his lounging pants. Her palm rubbed at the length over the cloth as she tried to deepen the kiss. Gale allowed her, his tongue working its way into her mouth now. He moaned with a deep grumble into her, not wanting to waste a moment any longer.

“I’ve dreamed about this exact moment for months now, Elle…” He broke the kiss to now move his pants down. Elle moved off his lap to sit on her knees. Patiently waiting for him, as if she’d expected the evening to take this path. His dick sprung from the tightness of his pants, Gale audibly sighed in relief.

Elle would be lying if she said she wasn’t mildly intimidated by its girth, but she sure was excited. Only reading about this in her risqué books, Elle had no actual experience with sex in real life. “M-May I…” She started to ask, but Gale just feverishly responded with a nod. Elle took it as permission to reach out. Positioning herself between his legs, she pulled at his pants just slightly to make it more comfortable for him. With one hand she began slowly moving up and down, with the other she palmed at his balls that perfectly rested on her hand. “E-Elle…oh gods…” Gale threw his head back when she started to pump at his cock, his wrist moved up to cover his eyes. She was focused, though, her speed quickening with every second passing.

His panting grew louder with her speed. Elle was stopped, though. Gale moved his hand back down to hold onto her hand. “I need you…” He confessed desperately. Pulling at her wrist softly, his puppy dog eyes were too much for her to resist. “Please.” Gale begged again. If Elle wasn’t a sane woman, she’d be clawing at the tent behind them.

She moved back, pulling her pants off with haste. The cool air hit her, the only things keeping her warm was the sweater she wore and the heat from her full body blushing. Crawling forward on her knees, she didn’t feel as exposed, knowing their moment was hidden. She felt almost more excited, knowing that if the veil fell, she’d been seen for all that she is. Elle wanted Gale more than she ever thought possible. His firm hands grabbed onto her soft ass, pulling her up to straddle his lap now. Gale’s cock bobbed with his movement. His erection now rested on her pelvis, throbbing in anticipation. Gale held himself firmly to not absolutely devour her on the spot, needing her more than the magic he craved. He took two fingers to ready her for their endeavor, but was not prepared for just how wet she’d become. Elle wasn’t even aware that a person could make her feel so…euphoric.

Biting her lower lip to hold back her moans, he moved around her clit just to tease at her. Elle’s body crumpled against his torso again, head resting on his neck. “G-Gale-” She sputtered out, breathing heavily into him. Two fingers moved down her pussy, inserting one after another into her. She shook, thighs quaked the deeper he pushed. Gasping softly as she gripped at his shirt with one hand and pulling at his hair with the other, Elle couldn’t sit still. Even the thickness of his pointer and middle finger was enough to drive her mad. “Darling, if I don’t do this I won’t fit, just try to hold on a little longer.” Gale cooed in her ear, petting her head soft to coach her as he began thrusting his fingers faster.

His fingers coated in her wet was a feeling he’d savor. Gale wasn’t surprised that he was growing harder by the second. Each time he’d move his hand, his cock would throb. Tightening around him, her back arched into his body, just trying to hold patience. “Haah… Hah… Gale…” Elle breathed out, her grip getting tighter. Gale wouldn’t let her finish, though, he needed Elle to help him. Pulling his fingers out, fighting the tight suction of her virginity. She mewled at the absence, but Gale tried to console her. “Shh, love. J-Just wait. Please.” Holding the shaft still, he helped Elle stand on her knees to hover still.

Anticipation made him shake slightly, he anxiously ran the tip down from her clit to her waiting hole. Meeting her pussy with a deep moan, Gale felt like he could’ve melted. Elle helped him by lowering her body, her pussy resting right on the tip. Gale sped it up by pulling her further, going deeper. Elle quickly moved a hand over her mouth, his girth stretched her more than just his fingers. Forgiving her cluelessness, Gale just kept trying to soothe her while easing her down. “Gods… Elle…you…” He breathed as he finally bottomed out, “You are….divine…”

Tightening around him from the compliment, Gale once again felt the need to burst then and there. It’d been upwards of a year since he’d been with someone so intimately, but he tried to remain patient. On her own, though, she began to move. Gale tried to lighten the load by guiding his hands to her ass again, allowing him to move for her. “Thank you…for trusting me with this.” His brown eyes looking at her with the sweetest smile, but she was too far gone as he began speeding up his pace. Her arms laced around his neck to hold her stability, she laid on him with her full weight.

Gale was stronger than he looked, but it also just could’ve been the instinct to rail into her. The amount of sound coming from the pair almost made her doubt the spell truly hid what they were doing. The soft padding of skin meeting skin, the soft moans and groans, and the sound of lips against lips. Fucking into her was easy, but Elle couldn’t stop from kissing him. Trailing along his tattoo (which only drove him mad) up to his mouth, Gale’s pace sped up faster to match his own needs. “E-Elle-” He sputtered out, breaking the kiss she kept leaning further into.

He had to pull her off, trying not to upset her too badly by cumming inside her. Pumping at his own cock, he used the lubrication from her pussy for ease. Elle started to whine, but Gale just cast Mage Hand to help her along. A mystical blue hand appeared to work at her clit with the same speed he’d shown prior. He smiled as Elle laid back on her knees, so Gale could get a good look as he stroked his dick. As Elle’s body shuddered with pleasure, she arched her back to fend off the eventual climax. She wasn’t sure what she was fighting off though, maybe she just didn’t want the moment to end. Gale helped her legs get more comfortable, holding her still just to watch her squirm under the hand. Gale felt himself at the point, so he rose on his knees as he continued pumping at his dick.

Elle came with a sigh of relief through her nose, but Gale had to bite his tongue as he came into his fist. The hand still moved, even as Elle softly begged to slow down. Only as she squirmed around did he snap out of his daze, waving his hand once again to send it away. The two sat in exhausted silence, crickets outside acting as a white noise to their panting.

“Well…” Gale began. “I don’t suppose that’ll be the end…right?” He looked at Elle with hopeful eyes, holding out a hand to help her up. Elle paused for a moment to allow herself to catch her breath. “Well, you don’t just expect us to never explore the notion.” Gale scrambled nervously, now expecting rejection from the silence.

“Shut up, Wizard.” Elle finally sighed out, giving a soft kiss onto his cheek.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #bg3 tav #tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 gale #baldus gate 3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fic #`` ~ ୨୧ ♡ · love notes #`` ~ ୨୧ ♡ · series #`` ~ ୨୧ ♡ · 18+

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