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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Astarion Jealousy Part 2

The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.

CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers

It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions.

He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.

Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself.

All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many.

But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you.

It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped.

On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.

He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”

Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it.

Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”

Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake.

“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”

“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”

He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one.

“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”

“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”

His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”

It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."

“But-”

“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”

Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something.

He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”

“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”

You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze.

Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it.

“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting.

And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him.

You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.

He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed.

He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”

He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes.

You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”

“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”

You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.

It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous.

Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.

He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.

He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.

You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.

You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason.

He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"

A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.

“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?”

"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.

Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.”

You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”

Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?

Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."

You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”

But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."

You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”

Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”

It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances.

But what about your lives were normal?

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #long fic #spoilers #and thats how later astarion found himself on stage with a killer clown #whoops #still fluffy i'd say #I got a soft (in comparison to cough alternatives) jealousy trilogy in mind so one more dirty part. Also #side note #in reality everyone in your party is attractive and probably gets flirted with an equal amount at the caress #but I love the idea of astarion being hyper focused on you.

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lazylittledragon · 2 months

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i always give my fantasy worlds some kind of magic camera for my own self indulgence and now i'm feeling things

i need everyone to politely ignore the vampire mirror/photograph thing for 5 minutes just for me. please

#maybe it isn't backed with silver it's FINE #they figured out the daywalker thing they can get a magic mirror #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #gale dekarios #tavstarion #galemance #i also just Love vintage photos #this is a Big set with the whole party but i've been putting off finishing it so i just really want to post these bc they're so soft

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bluebells-and-dragonflies · 7 days

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Imagine Astarion with ears so sensitive that he's never willingly allowed anyone to touch them except for you. Imagine laying next to him in your bed, facing him, lifting your hand up slowly for that first touch. His eyes on yours, the rapidity of the breath he doesn't need to take, but still does reflexively. Seeing that he's nervous, but that he's trusting you, feeling his shaking hand come to rest on your waist. The audible sound he makes- half a moan, half a gasp- when you finally brush your thumb over the soft skin at the tip of his ear.

You trace the long shell of his ear and watch his pretty eyes, deep red like velvet in the moonlight, flutter shut. He says your name softly, as close as you've ever heard him to prayer. You pinch his earlobe gently, and his hips roll forward involuntarily, the jut of his hipbone pressing against your thigh as he makes himself still. Heat flares low in your belly, but you tamp it down as quickly as possible- likewise, Astarion makes himself still against you. This isn't sex and won't become sex, you'd promised each other (though that's not to say that you won't explore this thoroughly during one of your hours-long lovemaking sessions. He is all about experimentation these days, after all).

You lay there, touching him in his most vulnerable place, with reverence and grace and occasionally disbelief that you could be here at all with this beautiful, horrible, ridiculous and wonderful man, that you could be trusted so completely. You take in his every shuddering breath, the flexing of his fingers in your shirt, the softness of his mouth when he presses his lips to yours and tells you he loves you. If you have your way, if he has his, if somehow your utterly insane lives hold together for a year or a decade or ten, it will always be like this.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav #.astarion #check me never knowing how to coherently end a thought ever in my life #i AM one of those people that advocates for astarion staying snarky and awful even after everything LMFAO #it's just that now he only acts like that with people he thinks deserve it. or when it's funny #that said: with you? snarky and biting sometimes #yes. but also #sometimes #so soft it makes you want to squeeze him to death or something #also...reminder that i take requests...if u like...

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vampiresfromxenon · 7 months

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I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!!

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy.

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you.

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love.

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical.

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations.

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep.

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads.

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side.

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you.

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?”

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space.

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep.

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know.

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

“I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice.

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks.

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds.

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-”

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you.

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him.

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery.

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel.

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more.

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy.

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes.

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again.

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do.

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words.

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise.

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you.

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.”

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips.

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat.

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing.

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you.

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest.

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe.

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :)

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

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trashmancer · 2 months

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Domestic bathing Wyllstarion fluff for draculastarion on the Wyllstarion! discord server Valentine exchange 💕

#wyllstarion #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #bg3 fanart #my fanart #they are so soft I cry #i am a sucker for tender looks #happy Valentine’s Day!!

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bara-izu · 8 months

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[ The best remedy ]

#halion sunblaze #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #astarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #baldur's gate #this is meant to be post cazador in the story but like- no spoilers so could be any time really i just wanted to doodle them being soft ;;#also astarion saying gods below made me chuckle so i just needed to include that #izu comics

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bakuliwrites · 8 months

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As Astarion regains his autonomy, he learns to love all the things his body can do, both for others and for himself.

His elegant hands work needle and thread with ease. He's embroidered nearly every article of clothing he owns. And maybe if you ask nicely, he'll add some much needed embellishment to yours, too.

Can't open that locked chest? Don't worry, darling, he's on it. His nimble fingers make quick work of it. He plays it off as no big deal, but secretly likes it when you praise him for his efforts. Or, he makes a gigantic deal of your praise in the most obnoxious way possible, but deep down, he truly does appreciate it.

His silver tongue can draw from you the most sumptuous moans and the sweetest blushes, but also the most jubilant of laughter. He prides himself on his quick wit and is delighted when you provide him with the sustenance of banter.

He's lithe and swift. He can dodge volleys of arrows fired at him, deftly roll out of harms way, or dexterously slip from the grasp of his captors. He's a master with a dagger and bow. Watch him take down foes, left and right. He's strong. He can lift boxes, crates, barrels, you name it. Need help lifting something? Astarion can certainly assist (but not without some amount of whining).

His voice can be soft and sultry, like when he's reading poetry to you under flickering candlelight. It can be strong and commanding when he's defending himself or you. Firm when he needs to advocate for himself. You remind him to always advocate for himself, a notion he's only recently started to take to heart.

His eyes are keen. They can see in the shadows with utmost precision. He's observant, something he's had to be in order to survive. His excellent eyesight has come in handy many a time over the course of your journey.

He likes that his nose can pick up the scent of blood from a mile away. He likes how precise his sense of smell is when it comes to differentiating blood. He likes that his ears can pick up the faintest sounds. Centuries of living in darkness, of having to sneak about have helped him hone his senses.

He likes the way he can feel delightful tingles coursing through his veins when you run your fingers through his fine, silver hair. He likes the way the fine strands of snowy white curl over his forehead, tickle his skin when a breeze lifts them.

He likes the way you describe him. It's been so long since he's seen himself in a mirror, but your verbal (or literal) illustrations of him will suffice. He's edges and angles. Paleness, crimson, and silver. Ethereal. He's pretty and he knows it, but sometimes, the reassurance is much appreciated. Much needed.

Astarion likes that he can bring you pleasure. He likes that he can feel pleasure all his own when he's with you. He doesn't have to use his body to ensure his own safety. To guarantee that you won't harm or betray him. He likes that you don't ask him to do anything he doesn't want to.

Astarion loves his body. He loves how strong it is. How swift, how fragile, how durable it is. He loves how hard it works for him. Astarion's body is his and his alone, and he loves this.

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #bodily autonomy #astarion headcanons #i love everything about his story arc #i love that he is on a journey to regain his bodily autonomy #his story is so very sorrowful and wonderful #i adore astarion #baldurs gate spoilers #astarion spoilers #he deserves softness and goodness and sweetness #everything he’s missed out on #he deserves gentility and peace #astarion x you #astarion x tav

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cheekylittlepupp · 4 months

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I swear the moment he pulls out the sad puppy eyes, all sense and logic flies out of the window.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #mims posts ~#baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #he's so soft #so cutie patutie #astarion screenshots

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violetthecreator · 9 months

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Sunlight

Astarion x GN!Reader

Warnings: Reference to past trauma, just a lovesick vampire sharing his feelings 💘

WC: 400+

A/N: Inspired by @lokasxnna and Sunlight by Hozier, you can find the moodboard here ☀️ I truly could spend eternity writing soft/tender moments for this man 🥺

Astarion's steps fall softly upon the forest floor, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead casting patterns on the ground. You walk beside him in quiet companionship, the two of you navigating the winding paths with ease whilst the others keep pace a few dozen yards ahead. With every step, the tension in his shoulders seems to loosen, as if the gentle embrace of the ancient forest has a soothing effect on him.

After a while, Astarion's voice breaks through the peaceful silence, lacking it's usual sardonic edge. "I've missed this.", his sharp eyes glancing towards the canopy above.

"Missed what?" you inquire with genuine curiousity.

"The sunlight," he admits, a hint of nostalgia threading his words. "I spent two centuries trapped in darkness, unable to bear the sun's touch. It's... odd how something so simple, something mortals often take for granted, could be a luxury I yearned for so desperately."

You nod, allowing him to continue. His words seem to flow like a long-held secret finally being unburdened.

"The memories of honeyed rays, of warmth on my skin, they taunted me endlessly whilst I remained under Cazador's influence," Astarion confesses, his voice carrying a vulnerability rarely heard from the elegant vampire. "But now, thanks to this accursed tadpole, I can finally feel it again. The sensation of sunlight on my face, the way it warms my skin, it feels as if I've been given a second chance."

A soft smile touches your lips as you listen, understanding the weight of his words. The forest around you seems to echo his sentiments, the gentle rustling of leaves like a symphony of empathy.

Astarion glances at you, his expression revealing a depth of emotion he rarely allows himself to show. "I'm glad you're here with me," he admits, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "Being able to share this newfound freedom with you, it's something I never imagined possible."

The two of you walk on, the breeze ruffling your hair and carrying Astarion's words through the air. With every step, the forest seems to come alive, embracing both of you in its tranquility and allowing Astarion to rediscover a part of himself he thought he had lost forever.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a warm golden hue across the landscape, Astarion's fingers brush against yours, a silent reassurance that he cherishes this moment. He can't help but find himself hoping that one day he'll gather the courage to tell you just how much he cherishes every moment he spends with you. You both find solace in each other's company amidst the whispering leaves and glowing sunset, basking in the light that had eluded Astarion for far too long.

A/N: Thank you so so much for reading! The comments/tags you've left on my other Astarion fics have left me smiling like a fool, appreciate all the love and support 😭💕

#I just want him to be happy 🥺#so I will keep writing soft moments between him and reader/tav until I die 😌#astarion #astarion x gn!reader #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate iii

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comatosebunny09 · 6 months

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Allowing him time to rebuild his boundaries.

Asking if it’s okay to hug him. If it’s alright to hold his hand. If you can kiss him. Slinking into his tent in the wee hours of the morning, drowsily asking if he would like to cuddle. And he can’t help chuckling at how cautious you are with him. You’re the one who is vulnerable here. Eventually, he gets fed up with you walking on eggshells around him.

“If you want something of me, my love,” he croons into the crown of your head, holding you close and massaging all the world's worries from between your shoulder blades, “You don’t always have to ask.”

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #just musing #this game is so soft #and Astarion is teaching me how to reassert my boundaries

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astarionposting · 5 months

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#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 screenshots #astarion posting #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion screenshots #SORRY i still havent even left act 2 and im doing two playthrus cause im loving gale's romance lol...#so some peace offering #of soft astarion

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secret-smut-sideblog · 15 days

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Pulling Strings

Astarion x F! Tav

18+ consensual body control, intimacy aversion/exploration, sub/dom, total control, body caging, restraint, rough sex, p-in-v, vulnerability, crying after sex, aftercare, tenderness

Tav has caught on that her favorite vampire doesn't enjoy touching or being touched by others. But she has a suggestion to possibly help that piques his interest...

Masterlist

As Tav talked to the merchant she felt two cold finger taps on her wrist.

She smiled, turning her head to give him a nod, returning to bartering.

The signal that he wanted to initiate their scenario.

After the tiefling party, she had asked if he had actually wanted to bed her. She had her suspicions, and ever forward, had asked plainly.

He tried to dance around an answer, but she knew him too well by then. Eventually relenting, he had said that he had done it out of obligation. Explaining that he needed protection, and bedding her was a fast track to devotion. Or, at least, was supposed to be.

That conversation led into more, delving into his aversion to intimacy and touch itself. Tav was not upset, if anything she wanted to help.

"Well, do you want to be intimate with others?" She offered curiously on one of those late nights they stayed up talking.

"I don't know, maybe?" He scoffed, flicking his hand up in annoyance. "It's something I'm going to have to get over eventually, if I'm ever going to be a functioning member of polite society."

"Not necessarily," Tav mused, taking the wine bottle he offered to her. "There's lots of ways to get around things like that and still be around others."

Her eyes lit up in thought. "You could wear gloves, or even hire an escort to practice with."

He gave her a withering look. "Darling, though I was one in some respects, I'm not going to trust my comfort with a sex worker I don't even know."

He threw his hands up dramatically. "I would much rather have someone like you if there was to be any 'practice' to be had." His pointer and middle fingers curling at the word.

"That's not a bad idea, actually." Tav suggested, tilting her head slightly.

He looked at her, his own head tilting opposite hers. Mouth pursing up to the side in consideration.

"Go on..." He drawled.

"Well, I could be like a puppet. You steer me where you want me and I stay there." She mused, leaning back on her side. "I wouldn't move unless you moved me, something like that."

"Hmm." He lilted. Pausing, seeming about to say something. Then just offered another thoughtful "Hmm..."

"Sleep on it. You don't need to decide now, and I'm fine with whatever you need." Tav shrugged, taking another swig from the bottle.

"If you decide you want to try, just give me a tap." She demonstrated on her wrist, two fingers lightly tapping.

Three nights later, she was at the firepit. Her hands clasped behind her back, leaning over to inspect the soup Gale was excitedly explaining. Two little strikes against the inside of her wrist brought her eyes back up.

She gave him a warm smile and a near imperceptible nod, turning back to Gale to give him her undivided attention about the intricacies of beef broth.

That night, she asked at the entrance of his tent.

"Come in, sweet thing."

"Where do you want me?" She asked, stepping inside. Already leaving her limbs loose and comfortable.

"Here..." He waved his hand at the space next to his bedroll.

She sat down, legs crossed neatly beneath her. Hands resting palm down in her lap. Waiting for his direction.

He hovered across from her at first, uncertain.

"You're in control. I'm your marionette. Move me." She encouraged, turning her wrist face up on her knee. Letting her hand fall open, relaxed.

He looped his fingers around her wrist and lifted experimentally.

True to her word, she kept her arm limp enough for him to puppet. Steering it around in a circle.

This seemed to give him more confidence, pulling her wrist down to the floor of the tent.

She followed, laying her head down. He adjusted her legs into a slight curl on her side. Pulling her arm up into a natural resting position.

He reached behind her and grabbed a small pillow, lifting her head and sliding it beneath.

He came to lay down next to her on his back. A good distance still between them, but not so far as to feel cold.

"Good?" He whispered.

She nodded, settling into the form he had set for her.

He leaned up and blew out the candle.

"Goodnight, darling." He hushed, laying back down in the dark.

That first night, that had been it. Just her laying in the dark next to him. His impressed eyes appraising her the next morning when he found her in the same position he had left her in. Breathing softly in her sleep.

As the nights went on, and as they grew closer outside of this arrangement, he got more curious.

Bringing her closer to him, touching her. Experimenting with angles and positions.

He had explained after that first night that he didn't want her to be entirely still. 'Too much like a corpse...' He had shivered. He still wanted her to interact with him, just in small movements that he could lead.

If he led her hands to his chest, she could circle her fingers softly there. If he led to his ear, she could massage it gently.

And, if at any point he no longer wanted that touch or found it uncomfortable, he would simply lead her hand away.

If he felt he wanted to be done entirely for the night, he would tap her wrist again, and she would get up and go. No questions asked.

Those nights, oddly enough, were the ones she felt closest to him. That he felt safe enough with her to end touch that he had initiated without fear of retaliation.

It was endlessly exciting for her when he found a touch or position that he really enjoyed.

One of his favorites being her chest to his back, leaning into her in a seated position. One of her arms loosely wrapped around his waist, her legs bent at his sides. Her other hand scratching gently along his scalp.

He leaned into her like this, head tilted back, legs nestled between hers. Practically purring as her fingernails traced lines along his scalp.

His hands would rest on her thighs, sometimes still, sometimes trailing back and forth. Her hand around his waist stroking his side softly with her thumb.

He would even fall asleep in this position, head turning into her neck. Occasionally pulling her down to lay with him, but sometimes falling entirely asleep against her chest.

She never moved from anywhere he put her, unless he gave her the signal that he was done for the night.

It even started proving beneficial outside of their little experiment. In battle he would see a blow coming over her shoulder and pull her out of the trajectory. She moved like water with him, they could almost dance through skirmishes together.

Of course, blood drinking came with the territory. He would always ask before he imbibed, and she almost always said yes.

His favored position for that was her sat on his lap, facing him. Legs hooked around his hips, arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

He would slot into that cup, resting the side of his head on her shoulder while he drank. Her hands comfortable on her forearms, her head softly falling against his.

Last night, he had initiated something that had surprised her.

Sitting down across from her in her usual starting position, he had picked up her wrist and led it to his chest. Trailing her fingertips in a dragging motion down the opening of his camp shirt.

Her surprise must have shown on her face as he smiled almost sheepishly at her.

"I'm feeling indulgent tonight." He purred. Lifting her hand to cup his pec gently. "Seems like a good night for exploration."

She smiled, nodding in agreement. Giving his pec one cheeky squeeze.

He continued to lead her hands across his body, pulling her closer to get a better range of movement.

Her puppeted hands sliding up over his hips, across his ribcage, over the curve of his shoulders.

His eyes had grown dark, chest rising and falling a little more strained.

It didn't go beyond that, with him eventually settling her into another favored sleeping position. Her head on his chest, arm draped across his ribcage, one leg curled up on his hip. His hand kneading and circling little figure eights into her thigh.

This was one of her personal favorites. One of the positions where she would often find sleep first. She wondered if he initiated this one so often cause he could tell.

So when night fell, she naturally wondered where tonight would take her.

He had absolutely had one-off tries that he decided didn't work for him, never bringing her back to them again. But his direction of her had been gradually more sensual. Something that made heat settle in her pelvis.

When they settled in for the night, she was surprised when he hadn't started leading her at all. Just running his hands over her body.

This wasn't entirely new, he did have areas of her that he enjoyed touching for tactile reasons. Particularly along her waist, under her ribcage and her upper thighs. He had remarked just how soft her skin was there, and how he was very glad she wasn't ticklish.

But the touch he drug across her now was more insistent. Needful pulls of her hips, her ass. Cupping her breasts.

She didn't move without permission, but her head fell back slightly. Letting out a soft moan.

He pulled up on both of her hands, urging them to his ears. Groaning in the back of his throat when she traced and massaged into them.

His hands pulled her legs open, hooking one up around his hip as he slid forward. Angling in between them, one hand pulling her thigh for leverage as he slowly started to grind into her.

His body pushed her onto her back, fingers digging into her propped thigh. Hand leaving it, his leg sweeping it up and open against him.

He caught her mouth in a kiss, hips fluid against hers. A hardening length pressing down into her.

For the first time, she moved of her own accord. Hand leaving his ear to cup the back of his head.

She realized her transgression and was about to move back, but his hand laced over hers.

"Please," He breathed against her mouth. "Touch me more."

This was the ultimate test, giving her free reign again. Under the suffocating wave of lust, she was determined.

"Are you sure?" She whispered when she could get a breath in.

"Yes, I trust you." He murmured, moving down to her neck.

She used the touches she had learned he enjoyed, fingers trailing along his chest, cupping over the bone of his hip, dipping into the curve of the base of his spine.

He shivered all over when she would stroke these desired places. Eyes fluttering up into his lids.

When her fingers traced the v-line of his hips something snapped in him. Needing control again.

He took hold of her wrists roughly, his legs twisting into hers and encouraging her to flip onto her belly.

She went limp again and followed his unspoken command, chest against the floor of his tent.

Pinning her wrists against her lower back, he hiked her hips up high to meet him with a grunt. In one motion he pulled her dress up over her ass, bunching up at her waist. Pulling her underclothes down roughly to her knees.

She moaned into his pillow, clasping her hands together in unholy prayer.

He unhooked her fingers far enough to slip his own in, curling into her. The rustling of fabric behind her, then the feeling of his cock teasing against her entrance.

There was no more questions, no more clarification. Just his voice low and dangerous behind her.

"You will take me."

She nodded into his pillow, pushing her legs wider for him.

He pushed inside of her without mercy, her cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate him.

She mewled into his pillow, and he fisted her hair into a ponytail. Pulling her head up.

"You will sing for me."

His hips rolled into her in hard thrusts. Rocking her body forward with each strike. It was slow and animalistic. Savoring and vicious.

He pushed her legs back together with his own, her ass seated higher, her cunt tighter around him. He groaned, caging his body over hers, forcing her chest further into the bedroll.

This new angle stroked directly against her g-spot. She moaned out choppy cries with each thrust, pushing her ass up higher into him.

"Is that good, little songbird?" He smiled, biting along her shoulder blades.

"Yes," She shuddered. "Harder, please."

"Fuck," He hissed, losing his composure. Releasing her hand to grip both sides of her hips. Slamming into her ravenously.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, already starting to clench around him. Clasped hands white knuckling.

He could feel she was close, a wide smile crossing his face when he realized she was waiting for his permission.

Teasing her for a little longer, he stayed silent outside of panting with exertion. He wanted to watch her come more undone.

She was writhing in small movements under him, trying to hold back the wave that was cresting. Whimpering in her effort.

Begging was out of the question, this was his call. But she was getting to her breaking point.

As soon as it became unbearable, he spoke.

"Come. Now."

Her whole body shuddered, shoulders arching back into still clasped hands. Release ripping through her from deep in her core, forcing near agonizing pleasure in an arc up from her pelvis. Her voice was entirely out of her control, pleading whines pushing into indignant near shrieks from her throat.

Her cum coated him in a slick veil, pushing out onto his thighs. The sight of it sent him over, the clenching pulls of her cunt further demanding.

He laced his hand back into hers, gripping his fingers into her knuckles. Crying out as his body tremored. His hips sloppy, bracing his other hand on her lower back as he filled her to the brim. Her fingers pulsed reassuringly into his as he fell apart over her. His unrestrained sweet sounds making her heart sing.

He collapsed into her lower back, pushing her clasped hands above him. Pulling them apart to lace into both of his along her sides. Still nestled inside of her. Both of them laying flat on the bedroll now.

He panted hard against her, sending little waves of cool air along her side. He unhooked his fingers high enough to tap twice on her wrist. The signal that he wanted to stop their scenario.

"Do you want me to go?" She hushed, rubbing her thumb inside of his palm.

He shook his head against her lower back, not moving from their joining in the slightest.

She smiled, twisting gently underneath him. Bringing his slack body onto her.

"Come here to me." She purred, bringing his head down to her chest. Running her fingernails in arcs along his scalp, holding him around his waist.

He melted into her, body fully relaxing. Quiet tears falling onto her sternum. His arm holding her side strong against him. His grip almost fearful, as if he was anticipating someone trying to take her from him.

She only hummed softly, a slow tune she had heard in a passing tavern. Fingers leaving her love in lines through his hair.

His breath slowed, eyes fluttering shut, his long lashes tickling her chest. Body warmed and pliant, he fell under her spell. Blessedly asleep.

She smiled, continuing to stroke his curls. She would often stay awake just to hold him like this. It felt sacred, a rite that only she got to partake in. The guardian of his rest.

"Oh, my starlight..." She hushed, kissing the top of his head.

She felt his sleeping smile against her chest. The nightcall of insects her hymn, the high moon her witness. His body her holy duty.

Letting her head turn on his pillow, she allowed herself to fall with him.

#this idea has been rattling around in my head for a while. so i give it to you! mwah!#astarion smut #astarion x tav #bg3 smut #screenshot by @lavendarr00 #lyrics from: soft universe - aurora

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