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swordgrace · 28 days

Note

Okay I know you've already written "vampire eating out reader who's 'on the rag'" (to quote Paul) BUT... Can we have one with Astarion? 😩

𖣊 pairing — astarion x fem!human!reader.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.5K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), period sex, bloodplay, blood drinking, oral sex (f!receiving), cunnilingus, praise kink, hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, unspoken feelings, astarion gives mad head (I don’t make the rules)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Well, here we are, back to my vampire obsession. I’m so addicted to Baldur’s Gate right now that it’s insane. I had so much fun writing this! This is also my first time writing for Astarion, so feedback is definitely appreciated! I’m hoping to write so much more of him! Thank you all for the support! ❤️

A distant, whistling breeze swept across the tall strands of sungrass, rustling against the threadbare canvas of your tent. It was shoddy lodging at best — certainly not a paradise. Gale and Astarion could afford such luxurious accommodations, but you were left to your own devices. You even envied Lae’zel’s tent, and it wasn’t much better than yours.

Crackling waves of dulled pain continued to ripple throughout the pit of your stomach, a familiar tightening and seizing of muscles that left you restless. Sometimes, humanity could be a horrible thing — you were a slave to your own basic bodily functions.

Shadowheart had bluntly broached the subject of menstruation with you earlier in the day — offered you rags to keep yourself clean. It was embarrassing, admittedly — you wanted to try and keep it all discreet.

Being underprepared for this scenario left you flustered and embarrassed, but you were thankful for her assistance, wariness aside.

Your newfound band of parasite-toting compatriots were becoming the closest thing to family that you had, but there were some you trusted more than others. You often regarded Shadowheart with a healthy dose of skepticism, but she’d been helpful enough.

Glittering rays of silvery moonlight struck through the worn spots on your tent, pooling across your form as you tossed yet again, hands folding together atop your stomach. The dying embers of the campfire dissipated out of existence — the world was dormant.

Sleep eluded you, replaced by the toils of your monthly blood moon that frustrated you to no end.

Halsin was generous enough to concoct an herbal poultice that was supposed to help, but one swig of the earthen liquid, and you were spitting it right back out into the dirt. Much to your dismay, you would be left to endure your cycle in its raw state, no remedies.

The gentle ambiance of swaying grass and the buzz of nature at dusk served as your atmosphere, accompanied by your deep breaths and occasional stifled groans. You rolled over, form awkwardly contorted on your side in an attempt to find some relief.

Your evening clothes were made of thistledown and spidersilk, far more comfortable than the linen-sewn rags you’d been trekking in for the last few weeks. It was all courtesy of a fashionable Drow you’d met in a village in the Underdark.

Your gaze fixated on the low, dimmed glow of a flickering lantern situated in your quarters, sitting soundly alongside your backpack. Orange light danced within the colorful glass, producing minuscule refractions that became a worthwhile distraction.

A fluttering of cloth tore your attention away from the luminous object, and you directed your gaze toward the agape flap of your tent.

Two glittering rubies peered down at you, sanguine hues dancing with a peculiar sheen amongst a canvas of smooth, marblesque flesh. The black ties of his silken nightshirt were left unkept, sleeves pulled toward the crooks of his pale elbows.

Astarion’s vampirism was something you’d become intimately acquainted with.

Perhaps it wasn’t your brightest move, letting him feed from you — but you had no qualms or regrets. Beneath the facade of allure and arrogance, Astarion wasn’t all bad. In the many moments you’d shared of allowing him to drink, you’d learned more, little by little.

“Astarion,” You exhaled, wondering why he’d come to you at this particular hour. He’d fed not long ago — from a nearby stag, and not you. He was ethereal beneath the moonlight, all lean and akin to a statue, living perfection as he lingered within the entryway of your tent. “Is everything alright?”

A sardonic huff escaped him, followed by a familiar tilt of his head, ivory curls swaying with his movements. “I could ask you the very same, darling.” He mused. “It seems that you cannot sleep.”

You swallowed the lump within your throat, sitting up enough within your bedroll to face him fully. “No,” You didn’t want to shower Astarion with the grisly details of your womanly cycle. It was of little importance. “Halsin’s awful concoction left a bad taste in my mouth.”

Astarion hummed, senses attuned to you — truthfully, he could smell you from across the camp.

That familiar siren’s song of blood echoed his name — your blood, above all. He wasn’t above lecherous thoughts, especially when it came to the likes of you. His solution to your little problem was unorthodox — Astarion wondered if you would be open to it.

“Was it that mess of an elixir that left you restless, or perhaps something else?” The pale Elf inquired, noticing the little flickers of realization settling into your features. “I have quite the keen sense of smell, you know. Your predicament is rather obvious.”

As your lips fell apart, Astarion chuckled — it was a rich sound, deep from within the confines of his chest. Embarrassment rippled through you, spreading like a wildfire throughout your body. Tendrils of heat crept along the back of your neck.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” You mumbled, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Is it bothering you?” You hadn’t considered that your blood might’ve had an adverse effect on the vampire spawn, but he dismissed your concerns with a simple wave.

Astarion stepped inside, dropping the burlap flap as it fluttered back into place. His flesh was a beautiful shade, encapsulated by the flickering glow of lantern light as he stood before you. “No,” He clicked his tongue. “I do have a solution to your predicament — with my own assistance, of course.”

Confusion settled into your countenance — Astarion wasn’t necessarily shocked by this, either. You were a delicate little human, a sweet, pious creature that he intended to ravish when opportunity presented itself — such as now.

He drank in your innocence, feeding from your piety as if it were your lifeblood. It was easy to charm you, let you slip into his intricately-spun web of seduction, but in reality, he found himself becoming soft on you.

What a horrid thing — soft on you.

Yet, Astarion couldn’t help himself. Your presence was soothing, providing a warmth that even enveloped his own icy heart. You never asked him for anything — you never used him. He wanted you all the more for it, desired to keep you for himself.

“How could you help me with this?” You questioned, assuming that he had some remedy for you that countered Halsin’s. Anything would do — you were becoming desperate for a solution.

Something shifted in Astarion’s eyes — his gaze became hooded, glazed with some indiscernible notion that caused your stomach to swirl with uncertainty. Your breath hitched within your throat when his cold digits swept across your cheek.

“In a way that I know best,” He crooned, thumb gingerly sweeping along the curve of your jawline. “You would lay back and let me taste you.” Astarion’s suggestion struck you as unorthodox and crude — and you nearly gasped at the insinuation of his words.

“You don’t mean it.” You countered, shivering beneath the icy bite of his embrace. Your flesh felt like scorched earth, blistering with a fever that you couldn’t sweat out — and your remedy, your cure — he stood before you like an ethereal god.

Astarion chuckled, head canting to one side. “I do, darling,” He uttered, voice dropping to a delicious octave that seemed to curl around you like a vice, spreading to parts of you that you never thought possible. “It would be mutually beneficial, I assure you.”

A guttural whimper of sheer want coalesced within the depths of your throat, goosebumps dancing across your spine as you contemplated. It felt so intimate — if you were to go through with it, the lines of your relationship with Astarion would be blurred completely.

The desire for relief and for him outweighed logic, and you exhaled, eyes silently pleading with him for his touch. Astarion was enticed — admittedly, he wanted to taste you, bloodied or not.

“If you are worried about the mess, you needn’t trouble yourself, my sweet.” Astarion mused, pearlescent fangs glinting in the low light. “I will take care of you.” Something about his tone made you shudder, wanting nothing more than to give yourself to him — every fiber, every piece.

His growing fondness for you was becoming increasingly difficult to suppress. He hungered for your blood and he yearned for you — a naive human that he initially cared little for. Now, he was enthralled, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“I’ll let you,” You whispered, voice barely above a shrewd whisper as you watched his expression blossom into one of sheer desire. Those crimson hues raked over you, devouring you without action, leaving you a mess, surrendering to him willingly. “Please.”

“How kind of you,” Astarion hummed, sinking onto his knees as his palm spread across the swell of your hip. “I wonder if you taste just as sweet as you look.” His honeyed purr dripped with a warm reassurance, all wrought with want as he eased you down onto your back.

A fire burned within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as you settled down onto the many layers of a tough leather bedroll and feathered blanket. Astarion loomed like a hungering predator as he slipped between your legs, throat hoarse with the sting of thirst.

His cold hands pried at your silken nightshirt, gingerly lifting the fabric towards your chest as it bunched up just beneath your breasts. A wave of cool, brusque night air licked across your stomach, but the sudden presence of Astarion’s lips made you tense up.

He made sure to touch you — caress your supple frame wherever he could. Despite his one-track mind, Astarion wanted to make you feel good. Those practiced digits of his slipped across your ribcage, dragging down toward your abdomen.

“I’ve dreamed of this, coveted this,” He murmured into your flesh, kissing his way toward your weeping cunt. Nimble digits caressed their way to the waistband of your undergarments, tugging them down and away from your body. “Your sweet flesh, your body beneath mine, crying my name from your lips.”

None of this felt real — your head was spinning, mind deliriously dizzy with a newfound desire. You couldn’t discern if his confession was genuine or simply a ploy to subdue you. Truthfully, you didn’t care either way.

Astarion hummed again, nose brushing along the supple skin of your thigh. “Astarion,” You mewled, unable to keep from saying his name. “I—I …” You babbled, savoring the sensation of his mouth on your skin.

You felt his body quiver with a gentle chuckle as he inhaled a gust of your intoxicating scent. It was your distinct perfume intermingled with that of blood — the twang of coppery menses that he intended on consuming.

Even when prone between your thighs, Astarion exuded a rather domineering aura, icy lips peppering a string of kisses against your inner thigh. He wanted nothing more than to bite — indulge himself in your sanguine ichor. The scent between your legs invited him in, instead.

As crimson wept from your core, the vampiric Elf moved forward, skilled tongue languidly dragging across your aching cunt. He shivered when your cruor fell upon his mouth, a taste of your blood that he so desired.

His palms settled themselves atop your plush hips, hooking underneath your legs. He pressed into your flesh, gripping you tightly as he held you firmly in-place. Astarion could feel the visceral, unrestrained way in which your body reacted to him, twitching and shuddering, thighs flexing.

“How delicious,” Astarion purred, voice dropping to a sultry octave. It stroked every recess of your mind, setting your nerves ablaze, making your stomach churn with a wave of butterflies. “My sweetest pet.” He uttered, licking at any drop of scarlet.

Flushed and flustered, arousal pooled between your legs, intermingled with that of your menses. One of your hands haplessly fisted the feather blanket, the other roaming towards that crown of ivory curls. A low, bemused growl tore past his throat when you gripped his tresses.

If anything, it simply encouraged Astarion, whose greed knew no boundaries. He eagerly lapped at your cunt, tongue tracing across your slit. You felt the little twang of relief that he offered, and you were beyond grateful. You felt the desire to reciprocate — if he let you.

It became increasingly difficult to stifle your pleasured mewls and moans, back beginning to arch slightly off of your bedroll. His continued string of lascivious praise and salacious comments made your flesh turn hot, begging for a release of any kind.

The dull burn within his throat was quelled, soothed by your cruor. Astarion was eager, delighting in your pretty noises and the way your body gave into him. He greedily lapped at the sticky menses trickling from your core, lips twitching into a smirk.

His crown of ivory curls felt like Githyanki silk beneath your fingertips, and for a moment, you peered down — you needed to sate your curiosity.

The mere sight of Astarion, coiled and poised like a lithe predator, wedged between your thighs sent you reeling. He could detect your beseeching gaze, and without pause, those vermilion hues flickered to hold your stare.

Instinctively, your body shivered, goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. You watched in silent reverence as the broad flat of Astarion’s tongue lapped at your cunt, showering your clit in newfound affection. A stray curl fell across his temples — he was beautiful.

A strangled gasp escaped you, and you fell flat once more, fingers seizing up within his tresses. Astarion’s form rumbled with subtle laughter as he keened forward, mouth suckling on that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your reaction was well worth it.

“Astarion,” You cried, thighs rattling like leaves upon a swaying tree. You wanted to thank him over and over again for this — the tight waves of aching pain had subsided. “Gods, I — Feels so good.” A pleasured moan tore past your lips once more.

A sliver of you feared waking the others, potentially alerting the camp to your nightly accolades. You didn’t want to allow your worry to fester, hips rocking forward when his tongue embraced your cunt once more.

One hand traveled from the curve of your hip to the apex of your thighs, two fingers stroking over your weeping entrance. You gasped, soothed by Astarion’s soft laughter as he lifted his head slightly. “So sensitive.” He purred, lips stained in a glistening layer of crimson. He kissed the inside of your knee.

Heat rolled through you in pleasant waves as pangs of ecstasy gripped you. Seeing Astarion’s bloodied mouth made you shiver, only wanting him to continue, bring you to climax. He sank two digits into your cunt, tongue dutifully returning to lap at your clit.

If you were to perish now, you’d die happy and within the throes of your own ecstasy — with a pale, Elvish deity between your thighs.

You’d wanted him for some time, and to finally drown yourself in his affections — it almost didn’t feel real. The practiced, needy lap of his tongue brought you back to reality, making your hips lurch forward once more. Those digits of his gently pistoned in and out of your cunt, ensuring a level of softness.

Rivulets of your menses coated his fingers, much to his delight. Astarion was relentless, driven in his quest to simultaneously feed and soothe your blood moon pains. His perfectly-timed movements of his fingers worked in-tandem with his mouth, tongue flicking from your clit to your weeping core.

A white-hot pleasure blistered through you, beginning to mount into your encroaching release. Your climax was close, stomach swirling with molten heat, body feeling as if it could simply float away.

“A—Astarion,” You whimpered, desperate to get rid of your nightshirt. The coolness of dusk could not alleviate the pure heat you felt now. A shrill cry left your lips when he withdrew his fingers, simply exchanging them for his tongue as he dragged you closer. “Astarion!”

His name felt like an incantation upon your tongue — it was a sultry, desperate plea for him. The Elf thoroughly reveled in your innocuous cries, wanting to hear you chant his name like a prayer. It felt so genuine, affection intermingled with desire.

Astarion’s gaze lingered on you, chest heaving, flesh glistening with a sheen of perspiration, countenance contorted into sheer ecstasy. There was something rapturous in his eyes — you couldn’t see it, but it was certainly present.

A low hum of approval escaped him when you absentmindedly tugged on his curls again, and he rewarded you with a barrage of his tongue. It was a greedy assault on your cunt as the vampire spawn drank from the source, inhaling a gust of your scent.

“Such a pretty voice, darling,” Astarion uttered, and you soared underneath his reverent praise. You were prepared to burst, body tensing, like a blossom unfurling within the sunlight. “You taste delightful.” He knew what it would do to you — he reveled in it.

You shivered, feeling his nose brush along your thigh as he kissed at the skin there, teeth teasing and grazing along your sensitive flesh. He returned to your core once more, lapping at your oozing cunt with glee — and that seemed to be enough for you.

Everything seemed to spin in circles, head fuzzy and body sinking into sheer bliss. Pleasure washed over you in hot, visceral waves as you were brought to your climax, hips tilting upward as you came.

The coil within your stomach snapped, muscles relaxed — the uncomfortable pain had subsided. Even if the relief would be fleeting, you were beyond grateful to Astarion for assisting you. You came to, flushed and flustered, sitting up enough to see Astarion finishing up.

He emerged from between your legs, tongue languidly lashing across his pearlescent fangs and lips. Speckles of crimson were splattered across his chin, but you nearly collapsed at the sight of him sucking on his fingers.

Whatever mess you made, Astarion had cleaned it all away — he never spilled a drop. “That, ah …” What did you say? “Thank you for doing this, Astarion. I don’t know what else to say.” You confessed.

Astarion chuckled, head canting to one side. “Speechless, are we? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve left someone in such a state.” He crooned, and before he could move to stand, you reached for his arm, coaxing him back.

“Don’t ever feel obligated to do this,” You mumbled, somewhat embarrassed at the sight of your cruor on his chin. Sheepishly, you swiped it away with your thumb — but he caught it. “I feel like I didn’t do anything in return.”

Instead, the pale Elf held your wrist, ruby hues drinking you in, picking you apart. Astarion remained hushed for a moment as he considered his words, lips quirking into an abnormally tender smirk. “You did return the favor, darling. Your blood is tribute enough.”

Your breath hitched within your throat, but you didn’t protest, gaze subtly absorbing his porcelain features. He was gorgeous — you often felt inferior in his presence, shadowed by his timeless beauty. You smiled at him, fingers reaching to squeeze at his hand. The gesture was unexpected for him, but he made no comment.

“Thank you. I do feel better,” You cleared your throat, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Did you mean what you said, about coveting me and dreaming about this?” For your own peace of mind, you wanted to know where you stood with Astarion.

He should’ve known that you’d ask.

Astarion hummed, neglecting to disclose the truth about how he felt towards you. Part of him was fearful of the implications, of what it could mean — he felt unworthy of you and your piety. “Of course,” He uttered, voice dropping into a more alluring octave. “I would not mind indulging in this again.”

Part of you deflated — intimacy wasn’t the only thing you wanted from Astarion. You wanted his heart. It gave you something to think on, but for now, you were simply content to enjoy his company, lewd or otherwise.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You murmured, visibly sheepish as you glanced back towards your bedroll. “I should try and sleep, I think.” You nearly asked if he wanted to stay with you, but fear and insecurity gripped you in that moment.

“I should hope that your rest is much more productive.” Astarion smirked, pressing a feather-light kiss against your knuckles before rising to his feet. Sharing your bed didn’t seem prudent — for him, it would only make his feelings for you worse.

A soft laugh bubbled forth from your lips before you pulled your clothes back into place, descending onto the feathered blanket. “Goodnight, Astarion.” You exhaled, watching him as he slipped towards the burlap flap of your shoddy tent.

“Rest well, my sweet.” Astarion hummed, and like a shadow, he disappeared into the star-speckled gloom of the night.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader

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druidrot · 3 months

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Okay 1 and 13 from the sultry prompts list feel VERY Gale to me, if that inspires you at all!

Your honor, based on provided evidence the jury has come to the conclusion that Gale Dekarios is indeed guilty of being a munch. Not actual smut but like pretty damn suggestive. It borders on it. It’s dirty. Don’t talk to me 😭😭

Real talk I’m sorry this has sat in my drafts for so long. Anon, you deserve better but work has been draining lately and tonight for some reason was the night my mind decided to work. Anyways muah i love u thank u for requesting, i hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Reader

Prompts:

1. A kiss to the thigh

13. You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me.

Rating: Explicit - MDNI

warnings: foreplay, like lots of it. this came out a lil worship-y but gale is a fucking loser and I’m so weak to that shit. i say that with the most love but 😭😭. allusions to good ole’ cunillingus babey!

unsure of the word count

Gale takes his time tonight.

There is no urgency in his actions, no desperation–just pure, unadulterated adoration. His hands are gentle against your skin, soft, like too much pressure might shatter you like glass. He is resolute though, driven, unyielding in the face of his desire for you. He knows exactly how to touch you; he knows exactly where to touch you. It's like your body was made to be known by him, to be loved by him.

You sit comfortably in the big armchair he has nestled in his study, legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. He is kneeled before you like a man devoted; like a man pious, besotted and yearning for you . He looks so very hungry when he turns his gaze up to meet yours, though his smile is soft, beckoning, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You answer his smile with one of your own, smoothing a hand through his hair as he begins to creep his hands under your dressing gown.

"I will never tire of this," he murmurs, reverent, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your knee. "I will always be starved for you, my star. I will never have enough; there will never be enough to satiate the hunger you inspire.”

You can’t help the silly, lovesick grin that pulls at your lips. To you, he is breathtaking in his want for you, unabashed and proud. You love the way he loves you, so fully, so complete, like this is what the two of you were made to do together. It is intense, all-encompassing, makes your insides twist and turn.

“You spoil me rotten,” you whisper, all sweet smile laced with heavy-handed desire. “I burn for you, Mr. Dekarios. You make me ache.”

He offers a punched-out sound, a chuckle, and his molten eyes darken in the heat of his want. His kisses grow heavy, then, hot where they land on your skin, teasing where they trail up and up and up…

“You are my renewal and ruin all at once,” he breathes, sticky with need. “I am lost to you, my darling. Eternally lost to you.”

You mewl, tangling your fingers in his chestnut hair. “Show me, my love. Show me how you love me.”

He grins a wickedly handsome smile, pressing another hard kiss to the soft flesh of your thigh. He bites down gently, teasingly, basking in the sultry moan that rumbles in your chest.

“Gale,” you urge, pleadingly. “Let me see how lost you are. Let me see what I do to you.”

He squeezes the flesh of your opposite thigh, tongue laving over the little indents his teeth left in your skin. His eyes are sharp, heavy with lust, and you think you might drown in their depths forever.

“How desperate you are,” he teases, hands now moving to push the fabric at your hips up higher and higher. You can only sink further into his touch as his intentions become clear.

“You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me,” he muses, eyes locked on your pleading gaze. “I sometimes forget how eager you are to have me. But no matter, my star. I will happily oblige your desire to be tasted.”

You can only gasp, body pliant, mind foggy, already drunk on him as you surrender to the heat of his mouth.

#hehehehe leave me alone #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #gale dekarios fanfiction #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #reader insert #rottie writes

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dragonsholygrail · 2 months

Text

Little Lamb

Astarion Ancunin x f!reader x Halsin Silverbough

a/n: This is also a repost from last week as I tried a new format and hated it. So going back to this loveliness!

Summary: When you offer Astarion a treat after a long day, he more than takes you up on the offer, he suggests a treat for you both. Upon their demise, handlers will ensure their animals are pleased. Astarion thinks the same can be said for your blood. But he needs Halsin's help in order to prove it. To please you and upon your release he will feed and taste it in your blood. You're more than up for trying.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, threesome? Kinda, cunnilingus, breast fondling, blood, biting, aftercare

Word count: 2.9K

The fire crackles lively as you take a damp cloth to Astarion’s face. Washing off the blood from the previous battle. You could tell he was tired, or drained being more accurate of a term. Especially given as he only attempted to wave you off a couple of times, claiming he could clean himself, before giving in and letting you care for him.

In fact, by the look of pure content and adoration plastered across his features, you’d claim him to be downright exhausted. He’d never allow himself to show this side to you otherwise. You try not to show your shock as when moving away curl off his forehead, he hums lowly, leaning into your touch.

You set down the cloth once all the blood is off of his face and he almost stumbles leaning in closer to you. Eyes fluttering open he looks around, coming back to his senses. That mask you know so well falls right over his perfectly clean face.

“Darling, if you wanted an excuse to touch me, you know you didn’t need to wait so long,” Astarion drawls, looking down at his hand to make sure no blood got beneath his fingernails. You raise a brow, the corner of lip twitching up in amusement. Seeing past the persona he hides behind was something that took you longer to do than you’re willing to admit. To know what he was truly asking for between the lines of his snark. But now it almost seems to be second nature to you.

“If you want more of my attention Astarion, you only have to ask,” you reply calmly, though by the look of incredulity he sends you, you know he can hear the humor in your tone. He scoffs loudly, pretending as if he despises every syllable of that sentence. Despite the way he leans into you, his shoulder brushing yours, and the way he pointedly avoids your gaze.

“Needing attention? What am I, a dog?” He sputters, shaking his head for good measure. Even as his shoulder is now completely resting into your chest. You bite your lip in order to suppress the size of your grin. Resting your elbow on your knee, you use it to prop your chin in your hand in order to get a better look at him.

“Not at all. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a treat,” a deep fondness seeps into your tone without your control. You had never been able to hide your feelings for Astarion that well. Not when you first met, when he was manipulating things, and especially not since he’s confessed his own feelings for you. But by now there were things he couldn’t hide from you either.

“A treat you say?” Astarion asks with a pause, going still. He quirks his head, looking at you without really turning toward you. You bite down harder on your lip, desperate not to laugh. You were sure you had him in the palm of your hand by now.

“Hungry?” You offer, pressing into him more fully and angling your neck for him. It had been a few days since Astarion last fed. You knew he was in need, especially after the events of today. He always looked forward to it whenever you walked up to his camp offering yourself up on a silver platter. As you ask, you see a glimmer of interest pass over Astarion’s eyes and before you can blink, he’s sitting up straighter and looking right at you.

“Oh? Why, I have a treat in mind for both of us if you’re willing to indulge yourself with me,” Astarion says, voice turning teasingly sultry for effect and sounding much more invested than he did a moment prior. He takes your hand gently, bringing it to his lips and pressing soft kisses into your warm flesh. Though his eyes remain on you and his lips curl into a grin.

“What did you have in mind?” Your question comes out without hesitance and you’re instead surprised to find… intrigue. Astarion must be able to sense it too as just as the last word leaves your lips, he’s lifting you both up from your spots in front of the fireplace. He turns your bodies, directing them to wherever he plans on taking you two. His arm curls around your waist, pulling you tight against him, causing your hip to caress his with every step.

“You know the way poor helpless animals are led to the slaughter every day, yes? How their handlers aim to please them so their precious meat tastes better,” he explains as you slowly walk throughout the camp, your eyes more on each other than where you’re walking. You don’t know where this, or where you are, going but you know you trust Astarion with your life and everything beyond it. But his choice of wording does raise some questions.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘please them’ in this context?” You wonder, your heart picking up speed as you seem to have some idea of where this is going. Since Astarion’s confession, you two have taken things as slow as he’s needed. He’s experimented here and there, testing his limits. You’ve stopped whenever and wherever he draws that line and you’ve been happy to do so for him. Just when you think it’ll be another one of those nights, you and Astarion round the corner and you see your other partner, Halsin, standing there waiting. You feel your face drop comically as what Astarion’s asking for settles in. “Oh no.”

The area around them was a bit ways outside of camp. You could no longer see the fire or hear any voices. There was complete privacy… for the moment anyway. The only thing around you all was the greenery of the forest, tall and wide trees for as far as the eye could see. Standing amidst them all was your other partner. Smiling at you softly as you both make your way toward him.

“Now, darling, make sure not to tell the big oaf— sorry, oak— what inspired this little idea of mine. Not sure he’d do it if he knew,” Astarion mocks as he leans down to your ear, whispering to you. Though you know he’s teasing and even being aware of Astarion’s true feelings surrounding Halsin, you can't help but send your partner a small glare at his words. To which he only grins cheekily in response.

As you both finally reach Halsin, you slip out of Astarion’s arms. His arm falls easily from around your waist and his feet stop in their tracks as yours continue. You take a few steps forward and before you know it, Halsin’s big arms are wrapping themselves around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Resting your hands on his hips, you look up at him with slight concern. But his smile remains just as soft.

“Halsin, are you sure of this?” You ask him quietly, hoping he felt no pressure to do this. You were happy to see him, of course. But the idea of any of you being uncomfortable from this situation made your chest ache from simply the thought. The beginnings of that ache are immediately soothed as Halsin’s expression somehow becomes even more tender.

“I trust you, little lamb, and you can provide much more consent for this than the animals he’d take from can,” Halsin explains and his words instantly ring true for you. It’s also true that you honestly prefer Astarion taking from you instead of an animal. Though Halsin doesn’t need to know all the details surrounding that. “It’s an honorable sacrifice, what you’re doing.”

“Oh, yes, a real sacrifice it is indeed.” Astarion snorts loudly, standing about a foot away with his arms crossed. Letting you and Halsin talk without allowing his presence to be forgotten. Not that it ever could. Your cheeks flush at his words and in your fluster you step away from Halsin who lets you go without a beat before you start heading back over to Astarion. He gives a resounding clap of his hands that make your eyes and smile widen in amusement. “Now then! Shall we go ahead and start? Today has caused me to become absolutely famished.”

As you reach Astarion you take his hands in yours, separating them with humor dancing in your eyes. Astarion is mirroring the look when you make eye contact with him. Slowly, you start walking backwards, keeping his hands in yours as you guide him closer to Halsin. When you can feel the heat of his body behind you, you stop, never looking away from Astarion.

“You’re lucky I adore you,” you say, lightly teasing him. One hand drops his to reach up and gently cup his cheek in your hand. Astarion’s eyes flutter, flickering over your palm and what he can see of your hand and the simple gesture of soft affection. All signs of humor and laughter leave his face and the rare signs of vulnerability and affection shine through as he looks back into your eyes.

“I know that,” he rasps quietly, three words that shoot straight into your heart and make it soar. In his gaze and in this moment you know you have his complete trust and nothing has ever felt better. With a subtle tug on his face, Astarion catches the hint and leans down, his eyes sparking with tension as they look at your lips. You both share a kiss that was short and sweet and completely perfect. After, you let go of him with a loving smile and face Halsin once more.

“You’re sure this is ok, my love?” You ask, reaching out a hand to gently rest it on his forearm. Astarion and Halsin were both very different people. Though you hold much love for them both, you had never attempted to bring you all together before. So something like this being the first occurrence of it was making you more than nervous.

“It is more than. You know how I have long since imagined a night where Astarion and I may partake in sharing the pleasures of your body,” Halsin’s smile is wide as he confesses this all to you and Astarion. His free hand moves to rest over yours on his arm. Looking deep into your eyes, you know he wishes for you to fully digest his next few words. “Though I had imagined them under better circumstances, I am truly blessed to have you both here with me tonight. Let me prove this to you. Lay down.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, eyes widening as you fully come to the realization of what’s about to happen. Butterflies flutter rapidly in your stomach as you watch Astarion sit with his back resting against a nearby tree. When his legs widen in invitation, you swallow thickly before moving to rest between them. As soon as you settle, both men are surrounding you and making quick work of removing your clothes.

Astarion’s hands move up and down along your sides, his eyes watchful of your every expression. You look upon Halsin, eyes wide as he settles back onto his knees once you’re fully bared to them. Suddenly feeling Astarion’s lips graze your ear, you jump slightly, angling your head more towards him.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, darling? One word, at any time, and it will be just you and I once more,” Astarion murmurs, nose instinctively nuzzling behind your ear. A spot where your scent is most prominent. Your heart melts and while you didn’t hold many reservations about this to start, you certainly didn’t now.

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m alright, I swear,” you respond, turning your head further and allowing Astarion to look into your eyes as you say this. To let him know you truly mean it. A flash of adoration passes over his face but it’s gone in a blink and in its place is his usual grin.

“I didn’t think you’d protest. But, you know, just to make sure,” he explains smoothly, though you can pick up on his subtle notes of concern. A smile graces your lips, settling back into his chest as you turn back toward the ever patient Halsin who sits there watching you two with an adoring smile of his own.

“Shall I proceed?” He asks, also checking in. Your heart beats so loudly you know for a fact they can hear it. Warmth spreads through your chest as you nod at him, your legs hooking around Astarion’s as you spread yourself wide for Halsin. A soft rumble escapes from Halsin’s chest as he crawls in between your legs. His hands slide up the length of your limbs, stopping along the inside of your thighs. Your breath hitches and you rest your head on Astarion’s shoulder as you look down at Halsin.

Halsin leans down, slowly kissing up your sensitive inner thighs. Reaching closer and closer to the place where you need him most. You try to ignore your embarrassment at him seeing how turned on you are. How wet the idea of doing this had made you. But as Halsin reaches your core, your toes curl as his breath fans against your wet lips, and all embarrassment is wiped away. Goosebumps form across your arms and you shiver in Astarion’s hold.

His thick fingers part your folds and you have to physically force yourself not to clench, whimpering as tingles light up your core. You watch his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze just as the flat of his tongue laps slowly up your slip. You cry out, arching your chest back into Astarion’s chest and his arms immediately wrap around you, holding you firmly and massaging your breasts.

Halsin groans at the taste of you, his eyes fluttering closed. It’s like something is unleashed within him as your essence hits his tongue. Moving in closer to your cunt, Halsin ravages you like a man starved, his tongue moving at short and quick strokes. You cry out, hips jerking up into his face and his hands on your thighs hold you down, keeping you wide open for him.

Pleasure swirls in your gut, the pressure building with every thrust of his tongue that delves inside you and every flick of your clit. The battling sensations have you moaning and squirming against Astarion who watches you hungrily, a wide smirk on his face. Halsin growls, latching onto your clit and sucking harshly.

Lighting shocks its way through your system as your nerves ignite from his skilled mouth. Your face twists in pleasure as his tongue swirls around your clit before sliding down your folds into the cavern of your core. Your body starts to shake as that pressure grows heavier and heavier. You feel as though you’re on fire as Halsin fucks you with his tongue.

His pace remains steady and it has you writhing and whining in pleasure, desperate for release, your stomach clenching as your thighs shake from the pressure. Halsin’s jaw unhinges as far as he can, doubling in his efforts to eat you out. His tongue consumes you, eagerly devouring everything you’re giving him. His teeth nip at your clit and the coil in your stomach snaps.

You cry out loudly as your orgasm hits you. All you hear is a low chuckle before Astarion swoops in, fangs easily sinking into your flesh. Letting out a short scream, your body jolts as the pleasure of Astarion’s bite combines with the movements of Halsin’s tongue in a perfect symphony of ecstasy.

Astarion drinks from you heavily and you moan, your body rocking both into his mouth and into Halsin’s tongue as he doesn’t stop riding you through your high. Your entire body buzzes and shakes, feeling light as air as your climax moves through and out of you. Right into Halsin’s patient tongue.

You sigh, sagging into Astarion’s body as your orgasm slowly fades. Halsin continues to lap at your core though much slower, considering and being careful of any overstimulation. A rumble sounds out from his chest as he cleans up your release, causing your hips to lightly twitch.

Waiting as patiently as Halsin, you let Astarion get his fill of you. A small smile rests on your face from the overwhelming but pleasing experience they put you through. A grunt leaves your lips once Astarion pulls his fangs out but that sting is quickly forgotten as he nuzzles into your neck afterward. The feeling has you giggling quietly.

Halsin pushes up from between your thighs once the mess is licked clean and moves further up your body. Leaning in he kisses you softly and you hum contently as you kiss him back, enjoying the sight of your wetness coating his lips and chin. When he pulls back he lays down on you two gently, resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around both of you. You all quickly settle into the comfort of everyone’s embrace.

“I’d say this went well, don’t you think?” Astarion asks lightly, effectively breaking the peaceful silence. The question has you all laughing as ‘well’ is not strong enough of a word to describe the feeling of what just happened between you three. You know you certainly wouldn’t be against this happening again and you feel as though neither of them would surely mind either.

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theladywholivesonthemoon · 4 months

Note

New follower, but I love your writing so far! I’m not sure if you take a request but would you consider writing something short about drawing astarion or giving him a painting of himself please?

WHAT DO YOU SEE

pairing: astarion × fem!reader

warning: none, just fluff!

a/n: my first ask! thank you, I hope this does your vision justice!

The crackling of the fire burning and nature itself is all Astarion could hear. He stared at the mirror in hand, but as usual nothing is shown. He twisted the mirror, turning his face from side to side, grunting at the nothing that is shown, until she walked behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly as to not alarm him. He turned to her, a scowl glaring on his face in his surprise.

"Hello, my love. What is it?". Astarion tried to smile, that grin he used when he wished to hide something from her, usually a fear of his. But it never worked, not on her.

"I should be asking you that". She caressed his cheek, him nuzzling into her palm. "Is it because of the mirror?"

"Well, yes" He said, his voice small and faint. "I... I wonder what this face looks like, sometimes. It is petty vanity, but still. I have never seen this face, after I was turned, I can't even remember the color of my eyes. I want to know what people see- what you see, when you look at this face". Astarion takes her hand, bringing them closer together, his eyes never leaving hers. Wonder swam around in his red eyes as his gaze locked on hers, curiosity and fear of rejection brim on his look until she spoke once more.

"I see you. A piercing gaze that strikes anyone that it touches. Your curls that swirl around when wind brushes against them. The laugh lines across you face that make your smile shine brighter than any star. Astarion, you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I have lived a long time". She placed a hand against his chest, rubbing softly as he almost purrs at the action.

"Well, my love. I'm glad you like me, but truly, who wouldn't fall for this charming visage?" He said and they both giggled, covering their mouths as to not wake the others at camp. The conversation seemed to have been put to an end as the vampire took her hand as he lead them to their shared tent, but she tugged against his hand, her lips curling into a welcoming smile. She pulled away, leaving a confused Astarion to sit in one of the fluffy cushion placed beside his tent as she pattered to her bag, taking out a notebook overflowing with cutouts and notes scribbled onto misplaced papers. She walked towards him, sitting beside him in one of the cushions. Astarion stared in confusion as she summoned a brush and opened the notebook in an empty page and started tugging the brush up and down the paper as he watched.

"My love, I had no idea of your talent to the arts. May I ask, what is it that you draw so fiercely?" Astarion gazed as her brush passed through the ink on the carefully opened jug beside her bag and back again toward the page.

Slowly but surely the image of a man starts to form, pointy elven ears and all. A dashing fellow, complete with a well embroidered cravat, jewels strung like necklaces draped over his shoulders and to complete the look a big smile on his face seemingly brightening up the entire page. Soft hair curls around the elf's ears, perfectly arranged on top of his head, smile lines framing his sweet smile, soft dots pitter around the face. The woman keeps swirling her bush without so much as a response to Astarion, making the vampire even more confused until she smiles softly at the picture on the page and puts the bush down. She wordlessly hands over the notebook to Astarion who stills gazes at it confused.

"Oh, this one is quite a handsome fella isn't he? Ha ha". The vampires laughs nervously, but as the silence it seems to finally click in his mind who this is. "Is this-". His hold on the notebook turns shaky as the woman nods, slowly moving one hand to his to steady his slight shaking.

"This is who I see when I look at you. A man, one who has been hurt many times, but still finds hope within himself, so much life. I see you in your love for embroidery, turning that old cravat we found while looting that castle into a piece of art. I also see you in the patches in my clothes, which I didn't even ask for, but you stitched them anyway. I see your beautiful smile which turns any dark night into a bright sunny day while you focus so hard when enjoying a book, I love it so much when I see that smile directed at me. I see the lines on your face, telling so much history while you stand right here in front of me- living. As much as an undead can live, though". Her laugh turned into a snort, her hand moving to cover her mouth. Astarion laughed with her, wiping stray tears that escape through the side of his eyes. “Astarion, you are so beautiful, I can’t even express them in words. Beautiful inside and out, my dashing vampire”.

"I am quite wonderful, aren't I?". Once again they laugh together as he tugged her into his lap, hugging each other tightly while enjoying the fire sizzling in the middle of camp, welcoming them both into a night full of stars.

"Oh love look! A shooting star! Make a wish". She pointed her arm toward the rapidly passing star and Astarion hummed in thought, encasing his hand on hers, bringing them closer to his body.

"I doubt anything I'd wish could beat this". He smiled, his eyes downcast as they gazed at her lovingly. With relaxed shoulders and feeling a calm he hadn't felt in oh so long, he pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a slow, languid kiss. They kiss softly, not in a rush, as the silence of the camp welcomed them both, leaving their love undisturbed, until the sun shines in the sky again and their travel to Baldur's Gate continues.

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #everwritingannafics #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fluff

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invaderzia1 · 9 months

Text

Horns (Wyll x Tiefling!Reader)

After breaking his promise to Mizora, Wyll navigates life as a brand new Tiefling. Luckily for him, he has support in his tiefling friends.

yes I’m aware the game isn’t out yet but I really liked that scene with Wyll and Mizora. Also this is set in act 1

Since disobeying Mizora, Wyll had been rather moody. Nobody could really blame him, not after the way she stormed into their camp and basically turned him into a tiefling, laughing about how some magic even she can’t fix. She left him with rather hefty horns on his head, leaving him to figure out how to navigate life with them by himself and laughing about how it’ll affect his reputation as the blade. So nobody was surprised when the heavy horns caused Wyll to struggle with his balance and maneuvering through his recent days, but they rather kept to themselves, all having other things to deal with then offer support to the poor man.

Except, you had been watching him. You had always found him quite charming and handsome, it honestly made you quite glad that he accepted traveling with you and the rest of your companions.

It had been a week since the incident and you’ve kept a close eye on Wyll, giving him space to process everything. But being a tiefling yourself, you couldn’t help but notice the lack of care he is giving his new horns. You knew what happened when people didn’t take care of them correctly, having suffered the consequences of failing to properly take care of your own.

Wyll is stood by the river near camp, having finished cleaning himself and getting ready to join the others for whatever food Gale decided to cook up. He barely even notices you sneak up behind him, too busy staring at himself in the reflection of the lake, still not used to his visual changes.

“You know, you gotta take care of them.” Your voice startled Wyll, causing him to jump slightly before turning to look at you. “Can’t just pretend they aren’t there or they’ll grow weird or get too brittle.” You moved closer to him, trying yo be cautious around him while assessing his new horns. “Kind of hard to tell right now what they’ll do, but I have some extra things if you need them.”

“What?” Wyll says in disbelief, almost self conscious about you having noticed how poor he’s cared for them the past couple days.

“If you don’t take care of them they might start grow weird.” You walk over, trying to get a better look at how his horns seems to be growing. “Or, they’ll become brittle and start to chip off.” Reaching up, you cautiously bring your hand to his right horn, but refusing to touch it until Wyll gave consent.

It takes Wyll a few seconds of going through his emotions before he leans his head down, letting you touch his horns. Your hands touch softly against it, standing on your top toes to get a better look at where they meld into his head. Then moving to look at the sharp tip of the horn.

“Hmmmm,” you let your feet fall flat again, letting go of Wyll, “I have an extra pad to smooth it down. They look healthy, but you are going to have to be careful of them getting over grown.”

“Like a sheep?” His voice comes out as a mix of surprise and disbelief, raising an octave.

“Yes,” you smile, finding it a little funny how that’s the only comparison he could think of, “like a sheep.”

He makes a noise of annoyance, accompanied by the sound of your laugh. As he looks up at you, he takes notice of your broken horn, recalling Karlach also has a similar situation. It feels rude to just ask, but he feels the situation permits it.

“May I ask what happened to your horn?” Wyll nods his head to your broken horn, instinctively your hand goes up to touch the nub.

“Oh this old thing,” you start, laughing a bjt to yourself as the memory surfaces in your brain, “fun story actually, when I first started traveling I didn’t have enough money to keep my usual tools with me. So I went without taking care of them. Ended up in a fight against a lone gnoll, thing got a good grip on my head and just took the rest of my horn off.” You can’t help but laugh, knowing to everyone else that seems wildly traumatic, but so much time has passed that you feel disconnected from it. “Luckily, I was able to even the score. We both left that fight pretty fucked up.” Your hand falls to the necklace around your throat, decorated with teeth that Wyll is now able to identify as gnoll.

Wyll’s mouth drops horrified for a brief second, then letting air escape his nose as he starts to laugh. It’s a weird and fucked up thing to bond over, but for the two it seems to work. As the laughter dies down, you put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait here, I’ll go grab my bag and help you with them.” You say, then running back towards camp, leaving Wyll slightly flustered by your kindness.

You rush back, a brown bag tightly held in your hands as you come back. You gently lead Wyll to a large rock by the water, patting it for him to sit down, which he does. Placing the bag next to him, you jump onto the rock and kneel behind him, just like your parents used to do for you when you were young. Reaching into the bag, you pull a small vial of a yellowish liquid and a round brown pad.

“Alright, now this is horn polish, you can find it in most market places or you can make your own.” Your hand snakes over his shoulder, showing him the vial. “It goes on before you use this,” your other hand goes over his other shoulder, reveal the coarse rough pad of material. “This will help you buff out your horns and keep them looking smooth.”

Your hands disappear behind him, he can hear the vial open behind him and then feels your hands softly applying some of the liquid to his horns. You take great care in making sure you cover all of them, then wiping your hands off on your bag.

“This is going to feel kind of weird the first couple times, but it’ll get better, I promise,” you warn him, giving him a few seconds to brace himself.

The feeling of the rough pad against his horns is awkward and uncomfortable, almost like hearing nails on a chalk board. Wylls teeth grit together as he clenches his hand together, trying to brace himself as you go to work. He feels your body get closer to him, trying your best to comfort him while using both hands on his horns. You try your best to be both thorough while going quickly, recalling how much you hated this when you were a kid. To try and distract him, you opt to speak.

“When I was a kid, my dad used to help me with my horns. He was always better at this part than my mom,” you admit. “I used to start crying when she would do my horns for me because she was so rough with it. If I saw her with the pad in her hand I would immediately start crying and run off, trying to hide. She’d always find me though.”

“Really?” Wyll chuckles.

“Yeah. Looking back, I feel kind of bad about the trouble I gave her when she was just trying to help me. But at the time it seemed like a reasonable response.”

Wyll and your laughter blend together, the mood becoming more light as you continue to work on his horns. He starts to tell you small bits of his teen years, talking about the trouble he used to get in.

“Alright, now that we are done with this part, it’s time to move on to the finish touch,” your voice announces, slowly putting the used product back into the bag. You pull out another bottle, this one looking more clear than the polish, but a thicker consistency. Your hand rests on his shoulder, leaning over as you show him the bottle more. Wyll feels his heart rate pick up feeling you this close to him, but watches as you start to explain this product. “This is your last step, it’s a protective coating to keep your horns shiny and helps strengthen the keratin.”

“So, I just slather it on them?” Wylls face turns slightly to look at yours.

“Yeah, you don’t need much either, it spreads like crazy.” You lean back, popping the bottle open and reaching up to his horns again.

Slowly, your hands start to rub the oil onto his horns, being as gentle and smooth as possible. It grows quiet as you concentrate on keeping the oil only on his horns and making sure it’s spread as thin as it can be. Wyll, on the other hand, grows quiet as he enjoys the intimate position you are in. It’s been years since he’s felt this close to another person, having spent years to following Mizora closely. He allows himself to drift closer to your touch, feeling more at ease now than he has the past couple weeks, possibly even the past couple years.

“And that should do it,” you reach down and wipe off your hands on your bag. Wyll snaps back to reality, giving some space between you. You smile softly down at him, then gesturing from him to look at himself in the lake.

Wyll stands up and takes a few steps, looking down at his reflection and seeing how nice his horns now looked. Moonlight now illuminated them from the shine, its a small change but it makes him feel warm. It’s the first time since becoming part infernal that he’s felt content with his new appearance.

Wyll looks back up at you, still looking amazed by the work you had done. He takes a step closer, putting a hand on your shoulder as he speaks.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, I know it’s been tough for you.” You smile softly at him.

Wyll moves closer, as if he wants to lean closer. You prepare yourself for him to do so, your body leaning closer to his until a loud voice interrupts the both of you.

“Are you two done down there or should we just eat without you?” You both hear Gale ask, followed by comments from Shadowheart and Astarion that you most certainly don’t need to hear to know that its innappropriate.

Now both your cheeks flush red, flustered by being caught by the rest of the group. As you hear Astarion make one more comment, you start running up the hill and threatening to grab your a stake for him. Wyll just stands there, watching you as you start to argue with Astarion, hearing Shadowheart and Karlach laugh at the display. His heart fills with warmth as he looks back at his reflection in the lake, seeing the way his horns now shine with the moonlight. Grabbing your bag, he slowly makes his way back to camp.

#wyll x mc #wyll x reader #wyll x tav #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #maddy writes

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xxhexwolfxx · 2 months

Note

Did you get a request? It's dating headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn s/o. Thanks!

𝒟𝒜𝒯ℐ𝒩𝒢 ℋ𝒞𝒮

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! :] It’s a bit short but I promise as I continue to write it’ll get better!

DISCLAIMER: All of these are not connected really. It’s just a bunch of random things I thought about them.

WARNINGS: Just a bit suggestive in Haarlep’s part.

CHARACTERS INCLUDE: Zevlor, Haarlep, Rolan, and Dammon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zevlor:

I totally believe this man’s love language is physical touch.

LOVES cuddles. He went a long time without them. Now he can’t sleep without them.

I think after Act 2, he’ll be more protective over you. He would hate himself if you got hurt.

Might be insecure about the age gape between you two. PLEASE reassure this man.

I think he would love it if you play with his tail. I think it could be very relaxing for him.

Loves to go on walks with you. If you’re any race with a tail then his tail is wrapped around yours as you walk.

Haarlep:

Even though they’re an incubus I think they would be really romantic.

They’ll love to keep touching you. His arm is constantly around you.

Constant compliments. Doesn’t matter if you just woke up or crawled through mud. You’re still beautiful/handsome to him.

Plenty of dirty jokes and wandering hands. It’s not a surprise if you find his hands somewhere they don’t belong.

If they are in a form with wings then they’ll pull you close with them and trap you against his body. Can’t leave if you can’t get out.

I think he’ll be fine with sharing you with Raphael but if you’re uncomfortable with it then he’ll keep you separated.

Rolan:

This man is SUPER high maintenance.

Needs constant praise. He works so hard for you!

Mans complains about getting affection from you but if you stop giving him affection then he’ll act like you committed the worst crime imaginable.

He’ll proudly tell everyone you two are dating. Will brag about ANYTHING you do.

If you have nightmares or are unable to sleep, then he’ll do a magic show to lure you to sleep or to take your mind off of what’s bothering you.

Dammon:

I think Dammon would be so flustered when asking you out. Even after a while of dating he would still blush from affection or even just looking at you.

When he’s busy, he will keep his tail around you. It’s just so he knows that you’re there and he wants to hold you.

He enjoys looking at you. Knowing you’re okay and near makes him feel a lot better.

Dammon’s hands are definitely rough from working in the forge. He loves to feel your hands compared to his calloused ones.

When he comes back from the forge he always tries to get some flowers for you. If you’re allergic then he’ll get your favorite snack instead.

When you share a bed, he’s always wraps around you. He’s arms are holding you close as his tail makes sure you don’t go far.

#bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #bg3 haarlep #bg3 zevlor #dammon x reader #zevlor x reader #haarlep x reader #rolan x reader #reader insert #fluff #bg3 headcanons #baldur’s gate 3 headcanon

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nanamimizz · 6 months

Text

tags: written for @prettyboykatsuki in mind. reader is gn, and is a rouge with a thief/street urchin background. marriage and discussion of children. takes place in act 3, spoilers for wyll’s personal quest. discussion of marriage. fluff.

synopsis: you overhear wyll bragging to the children. at first you think nothing of it until you hear him say somethings you weren’t privy to.

Wyll is good with children, a truth not doubted but known ever since you had met the fabled folk hero in the Emerald Grove. It’s something you hardly do not think of, if you don’t want to end up in some sort of frenzy of thoughts better left unsaid. At least for the chapter of life you two are currently in. Maybe, you think as you clutch the wishing acorn the love of your life had gifted you in the palm of your hand, maybe when all this is over you could discuss such things as a family with him. When Wyll is free of Mizora’s hands completely, when his father is safe from all plots and schemes and when the little friend in your head has been cast out - yes, you think, you would like to utter the words of a family to Wyll’s ever so kind ear.

Unlike you however, your intended is not as patient as you can hear him bragging to the tiefling children you have both met and saved in your travels to Baldur’s Gate. It makes you chuff, like a pleased tiger and shake your head oh so fondly as he utters tales of your adventures. As you draw near you can make out the words - he’s telling the tales of defeating the goblin camp leaders. The adventure feels like a lifetime ago but not the phantom ache of the knot on your head you sustained from Dror Ragzlin knocking you well and good on the head.

You hear one of the kids, Mattis with his shaggy dark hair and mischievous eyes that glitter like the gold he covets with his not-so-lucky rings.

“Looks like you don’t do much now, do you Blade of Frontiers?” Mattis mocks, snickering behind his red hand. Wyll laughs good-naturedly, letting the teasing roll off his back smoothly like water off a duck’s wing. It’s something you envy, how Wyll is never riled up by such empty words. Mattis pouts, petulant as he throws another half baked insult at the man.

“And what’s with you letting your allies take such a beating - first Karlach now this? Having a hard time picturing what good you are for Blade?” Wyll huffs a chuckle, a smug smile tugging at his full lips and you stare a little too deeply at how white his teeth are in the afternoon sun.

“Things are different now you see - I have another story for you…” Wyll continues on with the tale of where you fought off Roah Moonglow, a Zhentarim trader who stole all the gold in the common’s people’s coffers; there had been a fatal mistake that you had made and Wyll had saved you at the perfect time. Even had a second to spare to throw in a witty comeback and a brilliant smile your way before the fight continued. Mattis’s face scowled as even he had to admit that the story succeeded in making the Blade appear just as cool as you and Karlach.

If barely.

“So what’s different now? Did you finally know how to hold your own in a fight?” Mattis pouts, conceding that maybe the Blade of Frontiers was more cool than dorky. Wyll grins, brilliant teeth on display at the apple of his cheeks raised.

“I’m their husband now. No one can ever hurt them while I’m around.”

Scratch that. The Blade of Frontiers will forever be corny in the eyes of these tiefling children for as long as you and Karlach live - they even think that know-it-all wizard that hangs around you is cool by default. The children all gag, making their sounds of disgust with Mattis being the loudest of them all. They are quick to disperse, going off to do what children do best in the times they live in and you approach Wyll as they leave.

“Calling yourself my husband now are we? It’s been less than a tenday since you asked me to be yours. Unless we’ve had a ceremony within the same amount of time - I think it’s a little too soon to call you such a revered title.”

Wyll jumps at the sound of your voice, your quiet steps always managing to go under his senses. It makes you laugh a little, how the smallest testaments of your background manage to slip past the hero’s defenses. You watch with adoring eyes as Wyll flushes with a warmth that makes him shine in the daylight as he brings a hand to rub at the back of his neck from embarrassment.

“Please - don’t tell me you heard all of that?”

“Oh yes I did. Every word in fact.”

Wyll hisses in embarrassment, and even then he doesn’t hesitate to look back into your eyes when you gently run your hand on his arm.

“Do you mean that - that nothing can hurt me while you are with me?” You ask your voice soft with tentativeness. He softens, gaze going from embarrassment to an eager honesty simmered with so much affection you neve once thought you would be looked at with. Wyll is a smart man, perspective and he knows what it is you ask - the battles that you have yet to face but will have to as fate decrees; its golden thread dictating every action and word that is to be spoken.

Wyll takes the hand on his arm into his and gazes at you, the brown of his eyes turning golden under the warmth of his words.

“Yes, truly. I may be the Blade of Frontiers sworn to protect the Sword Coast but,” he pauses to lick his lips as if tasting the sweetness of his confession before uttering it to you, “I am first and foremost a blade sworn to you. So whenever our enemies are drawn near, don’t hesitate to point me their way.”

The devotion is heavy in each word spoken, something you had never been witness to - loyalty and devotion only gets you killed in the streets. So it takes you a moment to collect yourself, to pick yourself off the floor from the weight of the goodness Wyll holds for you. You swallow before speaking, your voice thick.

“You already asked me to marry you - you don’t need to lay it on thick.” You say, trying to deflect but Wyll only smiles, eyes fond and gently as he lets his thumb caress the top of your hand.

“I know, I can’t help but be sweet to you. And I swear to the Helm I’ll live up to my word everyday.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his.

“I’ll hold it to you Lord Ravengard.”

“I hope to exceed all expectations.” His smile is smig but his words are warm - lovinging and truthful. Just as Wyll always is.

#lamb.writes #wyll ravengard x reader #wyll x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #tav x wyll #wyll x tav

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lady-ashfade · 8 months

Note

4 HOURS? maybe because I was taking my sweet time but it took me 10 TO SLEEP WITH HIM!!!

I’ve been looking up ways to make him like me, but the one that really helps is a video I found on YouTube.

youtube

If you start a with a new character you’ll be just fine! I just really wanted to be it as fast as possible to see the cute scenes. Don’t judge me.

Spoils ahead but pretty but everything in the video is at the starting area so like, not even passed act 1💜

#baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate x reader #astarion #astarion x reader #yandere astarion x reader #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 astarion

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vibingandsimping · 6 months

Note

just read through your whole blog. gods I love your writing 💕💕 would you possibly be able to write how the romanced companions react to waking up to find that their Tiefling/Dragonborn partner has wrapped their tail around them in their sleep?

Oh hush. You’ll make a gal blush.

Edit: I realized I forgot Minthara and will add her later! Lovely Minthara simps I am so sorry. (It is hard remembering all the romance companions)

Astarion is a light sleeper. Hell, he doesn’t even sleep because he’s an elf. Still, he’s deep into his meditative state while you two cuddle. The vampire is the big spoon this time around. Limbs draped over you almost protectively. He stirs a little when something snakes up his ankle towards his knee. His first instinct is to thrash and fight whatever it was. The idea it’d be an animal, that is. After squirming he realizes it was too warm and too large. He looks over at you and sees how content you are. His gaze drifts down towards his leg. Ah, of course it’s your tail. Astarion smiles and suddenly softens at how domestic the act is. The male takes it for you being comfortable with him and nuzzles into you with a sigh. One hand trailing from your body down to his thigh. His fingers intertwining with the tip of your tail. It felt intimate- a type of intimacy that wasn’t sexual. Something new that made his chest soar and he swore he could feel his cold heart beating.

Karlach is laid on her back while you press into her side. Arms wrapped around your shoulder and waist as she sleeps away. You’re quite warm and cozy whenever you two cuddle. Your sleep comes at you hard- almost infectious to the deep sleep she’s in. This girl is a heavy sleeper- and you’d have to splash her with water if you wanted to wake her outside of her schedule. So, it’s no surprise that she doesn’t wake when your tail begins to coil around her. She shifts as it works it’s way around her. The woman’s body instinctively reacts and her tail finds yours. Hooking around the appendage and linking together. It’s natural for tieflings to intertwine in such ways during rest or intimate acts. A soft smile graces her lips as she sleeps and her grip tightens. It’d been a long time since she was able to hold anyone like this. She wakes that morning with a renewed vigor and a shy request to do that again. You simply blush and laugh with her when she remarks how comforting it was.

Gale only stirs when your tail tightens around his waist noticeably. His eyes groggily part and he looks around as his hand trails to his abdomen. After a quick squeeze and inspection of the texture he puts two and two together. He smiles and chuckles to himself. His fingers continuing to trail the skin of the tail as he relishes in your comfort. Then, he lets go and wraps his arms around you further. Drawing you in closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead in tender fashion. Tucking the hair from your face so he can admire you properly. He does make a quip about it in the morning which causes you to flush. He certainly doesn’t mind, no, you can do it all you’d like. It becomes the highlight of his nights. He’d write a poem about it, probably. If you ever found it he’d likely die of mortification. (He’ll get over it.) That, or he’d ask how you felt about it and ask for criticism. Possibly attempting to fluster you in the process.

Wyll has a habit of rubbing his horns against you as he sleeps. Ever since he was turned by Mizora for not honoring his contract. You’d butt your horns with his whenever he fell asleep first and laugh quietly. You’d make subtle comments and he’d blush. Wyll was still learning the new nature of himself and of his new body. Though, this night was his first time to tease you on your habits. You’d been particularly exhausted, turning into his tent for the night. You snuggled into him and you were out in minutes. He had an arm draped over you as he laid with his eyes closed. Your tail began to wrap around him and he parted his eyes. The man watched as you coiled him like a snake and a grin danced on his lips. Torn between not mentioning it at all or getting some deserved revenge. For now, he’d let you sleep. You deserved that at the very least. He stroked your hair as you slept while occasionally glancing at the tail fastened around him.

Shadowheart, hate to say it, dislikes it at first. (At first being the key here.) It’s not that she dislikes you in any form but it freaks her out. Possibly it’s the fact that it’s a tail tightening around her. Or, possibly it’s the phobia of wolves in the back of her mind. Thankfully your tail isn’t furry or she’d genuinely lose it. Especially if she had been asleep and woke to it. Shadowheart tries her best not to mention it to you. It’s your nature and she recognizes it as a form of affection. After a few nights, she slowly adjusts to it. The half-elf allows herself to he curious. Touching it, gently tugging it and letting it wrap around her fingers. It helped ease the subconscious of her mind. She learns to enjoy it, thankfully. She does make a mention of it one day. How it used to freak her out and your heart sank. She saw the look on your face and instantly frowned. She reassured you hurriedly that it was something irrational. That’s why she never spoke of it before. The last thing she’d want you to do is stop.

Lae’zel is a warrior through and through. It took her awhile to be comfortable with cuddling. It’s against her training initially. She holds you so tight when you two share a bedroll. Nearly knocking the wind from your lungs every-time her arms wrap around you. Holding you like you’d disappear in a moments notice. She typically sleeps quite peacefully whilst still on guard. Her face soft and relaxed but with a more rigid body. So, it wasn’t a surprise that when you first slinked your tail she jerked awake. Her hand wrapping around the appendage tightly as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. You flinched and began to squirm- the githyanki finally registering what happened. Her fingers dropped your tail as you relaxed in your dream. A heady sigh escaped her as she rubbed the spot apologetically. She doesn’t mind it, no. It’s just something she’ll have to adjust to. She returns to her previous position and presses her face into your neck. Eyes fluttering shut as she wills sleep to take her once more.

Halsin sleeps in his bear form. You’re likely under his furry body with his front paws splayed around you. His claws and fur tickling your bare skin. To think you can wrap your tail effectively around him is… bold. He definitely does wake to it one night swaying. A large yawn escaping him in almost a roar as he sits up. His head jerking to locate the thumping sound that awoke him from his slumber. He then spots it- your tail swishing as you seem to be having a vivid dream. He figured it was one of contentment or perhaps excitement. He sits and watches for awhile as the movement was quite mesmerizing. Then, when he had his fill and exhaustion pulled at his mind again he flops back down. Taking his two forearms and pulling you in tight. He pins the base of your tail against his stomach- effectively cutting most of the motion off. As much as he finds it adoring, Halsin needs his sleep too. He certainly makes a comment in the morning. Mostly about how he’s thrilled you feel content with him.

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sleepingdeath-light · 5 months

Text

relationship hcs ; astarion

requested by ; mod / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; astarion ancunin

outline ; “dating headcanons for astarion”

note ; i have never played this game and am going completely off of the clips and guide videos i’ve been watching pretty much nonstop for the past week so apologies if my characterisation is at all shaky in this piece

warning(s) ; brief references to canon torture, self worth struggles, and other related angst — but otherwise mostly fluff!

when it comes to being in a relationship with you — a real relationship, that is, and not the act he was putting on to try and manipulate you at the start of your journey as a group — astarion is, for lack of a better analogy, very much so a fish out of water

and, thankfully, that’s not something he’s ashamed or scared to admit to you, so the early days of your relationship are filled with a lot of trial and error as you navigate your new dynamic and he adjusts to being permitted to make his own decisions and set his own boundaries

some things definitely come easier than others for him — namely verbal shows of affection like using pet names for you or being playful or flirty whenever you’re together; things that are more instinct than anything else, but no less genuine in their use

as one might expect, astarion does also use quite the variety of pet names for you — to the extent that your friends have a running joke about him not actually knowing what your real name is (which he always refutes with about as much sass as one might expect) — with his main terms of endearment being ones that he settled into using early on like ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’ (or ‘handsome’ if that is your preferred term), ‘my dear’, and, when he’s being a bit of a tease, ‘my little treat’

actual physical intimacy, however, is a much different story given his rather unfortunate history with his body and how he was forced to use it by his tormentor

of course he knows that you’re different, that you’re not like cazador or his ilk, but that doesn’t make those old habits any easier to break, nor two hundred years of trauma easier to shake from his mind — love and patience can only go so far, after all, and those memories and their effects on him won’t just vanish overnight

so, naturally, that means that adjusting to physical touch unrelated to sex is a very slow process for him — though he’s thankful to have you there with him throughout

there are a few things that he learns he really quite enjoys and makes that abundantly clear to you when you’re together: kisses, gentle touches to the hand, and hugs, mainly

oh and his kisses are truly marvellous once you help him accept intimacy unconnected to sex — they’re soft and sweet but no less passionate for it, starting off with a brief peck before he turns his head and gently (oh so gently) grasps your chin or cheek or neck and pulls you closer to him, almost as if you’re melting into each other as the kiss either deepens or makes way for a string of chaste pecks before you eventually pull apart for whatever reason

he also always makes sure to sooth any places he’s bitten with some apologetic kisses once he’s had his fill (as well as plenty of compliments on your person and about your blood)

his other favourite places to kiss you are either on your hands or wrists (the gentleman that he is): the insides of your wrists, the tips of your fingers, each of your knuckles in sequence, the backs of your hands, your palms when you cup his face in your hands — truly the list is endless and he delights in finding new ways to fluster you and make you smile

shit talking and gossipping amongst yourselves is extremely common and astarion has mastered the art of saying just the right thing about someone he doesn’t like just loud enough for you to hear at the perfect time to make you laugh (or try your best to cover said laugh if you’re currently talking to the subject of said shit talking)

when it comes to sleeping arrangements, astarion just loves being held (but not too tightly so he still has the freedom to get up and walk away for whatever reason if he needs to), but the specifics of the position don’t really matter to him — he’s just as happy to have you laying on his chest, or him on yours if you’re larger than him, as he is to cuddle you on his side (though he does secretly prefer to either be the little spoon or to have his face level with your chest when you’re both on your sides as it makes him feel safer, though it will take him a long time to ever even consider admitting to that)

he is naturally very protective of you and has been known to pull a dagger on anyone he deems as a threat to you — which is very beneficial in combat scenarios or situations where you are actually at risk, but a bit inconvenient when you’re trying not to draw any attention to yourselves and the issue is just some drunk that can’t keep quiet (still not good and something that should be called out, but perhaps not worth having to leave the town you just got to early as to avoid getting charged with yet another crime)

he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself whenever you’re unwell for whatever reason (especially if it’s something a healer can’t contend with) because it’s been centuries since he’s experienced any sort of illness so he can’t even really empathise with you about your situation — he tries his best, of course, but it’s easy to tell that he’s really out of his depth

no matter how long the two of you have been together, astarion still melts whenever you ask his permission to do the smallest of things (like asking if you can kiss him or hold his hand, for example) — but he melts even more when you accept when he declines for whatever reason becaus the novelty of being respected and loved without expectation or conditions never really wears off for him and he appreciates it all just as much as he did the first time

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #fluff #fluff hcs #bg3 fluff #astarion ancunin fluff #baldur’s gate 3 fluff #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #bg3 astarion fluff #bg3 astarion x reader

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ms-fade · 8 months

Text

Astarion Need

Does anyone feel like some astarion smut? I wanna write some so bad and if you have any ideas send them. Also open for Kinktober.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #yandere astarion x reader #yandere astarion #baldur’s gate 3 x reader

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druidrot · 3 months

Text

before the first light -

Pairing: Astarion/Reader

Warnings: AFAB reader, sickly sweet smut, oral, PIV sex, unprotected sex, blood drinking

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: Explicit, minors DNI.

Summary:

“You surprise me more and more with each passing day,” he grins, finally reaching forward and pulling you close with a hand at the back of your hair. “Are you sure I’m the soft one after such a heartfelt confession? My darling, I think I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”

You know he’s teasing, so you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, I think.”

He sighs, threading his fingers through your hair thoughtfully. “If I ascend, you would stay by my side?”

“For as long as you’d have me,” you respond, somber. You both know that if he ascends, gone will be the doting lover that cradles you so close now. Gone will be the sincerity, the precarious love you both have carefully tended.

“And if I become even greedier? Power hungry? Even if I can’t love you?”

“I would remain yours,” you repeat, nervously. “For as long as you’d have me.”

Something sweet lingers in the air.

Perhaps it is the tender kisses you press against the wanting mouth of your doting lover. Maybe it is the way his strong, slender fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, pulling you impossibly closer. He thinks it could be the way your body comes alive under him, all needy, loving submission.

Regardless, he also thinks he’s never felt quite so alive, not even when his dead heart pumped life through his veins all those long years ago. You are resplendent beneath him, unfurling like a flower as he loves on you. He is all careful touches and gentle kisses, sweet hands wandering the expanse of your body just because he can, just because he’s come to appreciate the way you feel underneath those sweet, wandering hands.

For two hundred years, all he craved was freedom. The very hands that spoil you with tender touch used to catch rats in his dirty little hole. They used to wander the bodies of whatever pretty thing he could present to Cazador. They have always been tools for survival, tools to make it out to a freedom so precarious he was sure he’d never get it.

He likes that now, here in this moment, his hands can be used to worship you, to feel and touch and explore. They are free, unbound, his to do with as he pleases, to touch what he wanted, who he wanted. He ponders, for a moment, drinking in a greedy breath between kisses, that you might be his freedom, that this, right here, is freedom, his first light in two hundred years of darkness.

He finds himself growing impatient, then, the kisses he gives you turning heavy, filled with an intent all too foreign to the kisses you had shared in the past, an intent he was sure he’d never feel again.

It surprises both of you, the way that intent seems to become all consuming. His body crowds closer, becomes greedy, desperate to feel your form pressed flush against his own. You mewl as his fangs catch at your lips, offering a demure smile when he pulls away to lock eyes, all heavy-lidded and sure.

“Little love,” he croons, low and loving. “How you consume me, little love. It is maddening .”

You laugh then, a sweet, fluttery sound that leaves his belly in knots. “You have become so soft on me, lover,” you tease. “Are you sure you’re the same Astarion who kissed me with a dagger our first meeting?”

He gives you his own small chuckle, though there is something melancholy in the way it rumbles from his chest.

“I’m not quite sure I know who I am anymore,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the tip of your nose. “But I think I am learning.”

Something heavy twinges in his chest. So much still hangs in the air, so much that you both have yet to conquer. Baldur’s Gate is a city of demons, a city both his home and his prison. He knows that the coming days will be difficult, that so much will change, that certain death looms closer than it ever has.

He knows what he has to do, once he faces Cazador. The thought of the looming ascension sends a cold jolt of fear through your tadpole bond, tugging the corners of your lips into a frown as you cup his face in your tender hands.

“You are so strong,” you whisper, stroking his jaw with your thumb. “You are one of the most cunning people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You’re charming and silly and you’re wicked when it comes to battle. There is no one else I’d rather fight side by side with.”

His heart almost breaks with the way you look at him. He finds himself holding his breath as you inhale and press on, brows furrowing as he instinctively leans closer.

“When you face Cazador, you must kill him,” you whisper, serious as the grave. “I will help you if you need me, but Astarion we can’t let him ascend. That’s one more bigger bad that I don’t think we could handle, not with everything else.”

Your voice grows soft, now, a pit tugging in his belly at the way your eyes soften with sadness.

“I want you to know that I respect whatever choice you make once he’s dead,”

“Darling I-,”

“No,” you cut him off, sitting up as he pushes himself off of you, something new and tender budding where his heart once beat. “Let me finish, Astarion. I will respect whatever choice you make, and I will be by your side no matter what. I just- I don’t know, I need you to know that I know you-or at least I think I do-and I see you. I’m with you, my love. Even if you decide to ascend.”

He balks, for a moment, eyes wide as you stare back at him, resolute. “I think I love you, my darling rogue. I think I have for a while and I just want you to know that before we dive into this abyss. I don’t want you to feel pressured, either. I just want you to know that I love you and that I’m with you, come what may.”

Something shifts in him, then, with your nervous eyes and bared-open soul. He feels something twist and turn in his chest, something new and foreign and frightening. Something delicious, he thinks, something he’s glad to feel here, just for you.

You know he’s teasing, so you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, I think.”

He sighs, threading his fingers through your hair thoughtfully. “If I ascend, you would stay by my side?”

“And if I become even greedier? Power hungry? Even if I can’t love you?”

“I would remain yours,” you repeat, nervously. “For as long as you’d have me.”

He hears your heart jump, can hear the way it flutters so delicately in your chest. He softens for you then, even more if possible, and he pulls you in until you’re fully on his lap.

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “It’s the first thing I’ve ever been so sure of. I will not ascend, my love. Tempting as it sounds, a life with you at my side as an equal sounds far better.”

You shift away from him, then, staring into his eyes hopefully. “Do you mean that? Because I will be happy by your side no matter what. You have been deprived of choice for far too long, Astarion. I will not stand in the way.”

He chuckles. “Silly little love, do you not get it? This is my choice. I choose you, I choose us.”

You bloom under his touch, leaning up to press a heavy, adoring kiss to his mouth. He responds in kind, laughing softly as he wraps his arms around your waist. For the first time in a long time, he feels happy, truly happy. He still feels the threat of fear looming ever present, but for the night he will allow you both this brief respite before his brooding returns and you are both thrust back into reality.

“As I said, I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me,” you whisper against his kiss. “I care about you so much more than I can ever express, my heart. I am spoiled forever.”

He grins.

“As I said, I am so very greedy,” he teases, nipping at your lower lip. “I guess I will just keep you for the rest of your days if that’s the case. Mine to kiss, to cherish, to love.”

You nearly purr, “I’d like that very much.”

He laughs a husky thing, his hands once again beginning to wander. His eyes grow heavy and then he levels you with that hooded gaze that has your insides twisting.

“You know, pet, since we’re on the topic of choice…” his voice is low, sultry, and he can feel the heat of desire slowly building in the pit of his belly. He finds that the feel of you underneath his hands once again intoxicates him but this time he’s not so keen to put a rest to it.

“Long has it been since I’ve had the choice of taking a lover for my pleasure” he croons, bunching the fabric at your hips in his hands. “And I think tonight I desire to absolutely ruin you, my sweet pet.”

He feels your heart begin to race, feels the way your body heats up in response to him. You press yourself as close as you can to him, rising a bit on your knees so you hover over him just so. He hums appreciatively as you take his face into your hands, leaning down to press a heady, inviting kiss to his lips.

“If that is your choice,” you whisper, breath warm against his lips. “Then who am I to deny you, dear one? Take me as yours.”

The tension that’s been building snaps and he surges forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. One hand moves to the back of your head and traps you there, tangling into the strands as his other wanders wherever he can reach, groping greedily at your clothed body.

“You are already mine,” he growls, suddenly shifting so you’re once again caged beneath him. “By the end of tonight, you will remember no name but my own. And take heart, sweetling. I plan on rending it from those delicious lips for hours and hours.”

You mewl, heat surging through you as he presses the full weight of his body against you. His cock is already hard where it rests against your belly and satisfaction slowly fills your heart. You wiggle underneath him, contented by the fact that it’s you he desires, that he even feels desire at all, after everything. You feel lucky, so so lucky.

“My love,” you murmur between hungry kisses, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Does ruining me entail clothes on or off?”

He pulls away with a devilish grin. “Silly girl,” he chides, making quick work of his shirt. “Off, of course.”

You bask in the sight of his beautifully sculpted chest, moaning lowly as you reach forward to lay a hungry hand over where his heart should beat. He looms over you like a god and holy hells does he make you want to worship. But the second those hungry hands of yours start to wander, he stops them.

“As much as I love your hands on me,” he starts guiding your arms over your head. “I want to see you naked, my sweet. The point of tonight is for me to ruin you .”

You pout but acquiesce easily, allowing him to slip your shirt over your head smoothly. He nearly groans when he sees you’re not wearing a bra.

“And there they are,” he purrs, leaning down to press a tender kiss between your breasts. “You are so beautiful.”

You cradle his head as he smiles up at you, though it is laced heavy with desire. Your fingers card through his hair as he takes one of your breasts into his hand, gently massaging the supple flesh. You keen softly, voice breaking slightly as he moves to take that same nipple into his mouth, tongue teasing the delicate bud. His free hand finds your other breast and you delight in the sensations of him enjoying your body, relaxing against the soft bed as he begins to suck marks into your skin.

He is slow in his ministrations, all lazy teeth and tongue and lips. He kisses every inch of your torso, leaving no skin untouched. The heat of your body is delicious, makes him think of nothing but ravishing you, of stealing all of that heat for himself. He groans lowly, shifting up to kiss you again, rutting softly against you as your hands begin to wander the skin of his back.

Once upon a time he would jump away, but now he moans into your kisses and allows himself to cave further into your body. His greedy hands find the waistband of your trousers, and before you can even think he rips himself away from you and nearly tears them from your legs. You bite back a gasp, leaning up on your elbows as he settles between your splayed legs, eyeing the wet spot that hides your pretty little cunt.

“I would like to taste you tonight, pet,” he murmurs, running a finger over the wet spot. “I think I should like to feast on you in every possible way.”

You grin wolfishly. “Be my guest, lover.”

He returns your smile and tears your panties right in half, laughing at the scandalized look that takes over your features. Then his laugh takes a low, hungry, timbre.

“My, my,” he murmurs, settling on his belly so he’s face to face with your dripping pussy. “So wet for me already, pet, and I’ve hardly touched you. Such a hungry little thing.”

He doesn’t let you respond, leaning forward to lick a tentative stripe right between your folds, collecting your slick on his tongue. You both groan in unison, and then his hands are pressing your hips to the bed and he’s diving in, licking at you like a man parched. You let out a keening cry, toes curling as he circles your clit with his tongue, then licking over it with just the right amount of pressure. He alternates that with a few lower dips into your weeping hole, groaning as you begin to slowly rock your hips against his tongue.

Satisfied that you’re just as greedy as him, he pulls a hand down to your cunt and teases your hole with the tips of his fingers, sucking around your clit when he finally plunges one inside, curling his digit and adjusting his wrist until he finds just the right spot. You cry out, hips jolting as he begins to slowly finger fuck you, eyes locked on your face as he still laps at your slick.

You can hardly breathe when he adds a second finger, breath stuttering as those ruby red eyes of his stare into your very soul. He adds a third finger once you’re nice and open, tongue increasing in speed as he notices the telltale signs of an approaching orgasm. He laughs lowly, pleased that you’re this desperate. He watches hungrily as your chest rises and falls, rutting against the bed as you shamelessly rut against his face, moaning and panting and totally lost to the sensation of his mouth and fingers.

This, here, is freedom, he thinks, happily lapping at your pussy, happily fucking you with his fingers. Here, free to debauch and be debauched, safe with you and you safe with him. He knew you were sensitive from your first few romps but this is entirely different, a new pleasure now that you both can bask in it.

He continues guiding you to the crest of your orgasm, delight heavy on his tongue as he finally pulls you over the edge. You squeeze your thighs around his head and let out the most guttural moan of his name he’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Your pussy contracts around his fingers and he easily laps up every drop of slick your hole weeps for him. He continues suckling at your clit until you are totally spent, chest heaving, thighs quivering.

“F-fuck,” you whisper hoarsely, laughing.

“Astarion, that was…divine.”

“I agree, my love,” he murmurs, still settled comfortably between your legs. “But we’re far from done, my sweet. Remember how I said I wanted to feast on you in every way possible?”

You blink at him curiously, heart stuttering when he tracks kisses from the sensitive skin of your pussy down your thigh, right to where you know your femoral is. His eyes are still so heavy-lidded as he presses a soft kiss to the skin, a question lingering in the air.

You moan softly. “Yes, of course, lover. Drink .”

He moans and before you can blink he plunges his fangs into your skin, groaning as the first taste of your blood hits his tongue. White hot heat assaults you, then cool icy numbness as he pulls slow, greedy gulps. Your eyes meet and you feel your pussy clench. How debauched he looks, face still slick with your pussy juices as he feeds on your blood. You watch as he sinks a hand into the waistband of his pants, mouth going agape as you watch him stroke himself through the fabric.

He groans deeply and pulls away, cursing quietly as he laps at the wounds. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he growls. “I need to fuck you or I might go insane.”

He pulls his pants down and immediately crawls back up the length of your body, pushing you back with a hand at your chest. He slides his leg up, catching the back of your thigh and hiking it over his own.

“Perfect little love,” he murmurs, hungrily. The position opens you up and you gasp as he slides his heavy cock right in, groaning as your cunt swallows him whole. “That’s it, pet. Take me just like that.”

You feel dizzy as he begins a punishing pace, the wet sound of your pussy sucking him in and out filling the room. It makes you feel drunk, how intimate it feels. The sound of his hips slapping against your skin, the wet slide of his cock inside you, the pressure. You choke on a moan as his hungry lips find yours, tasting of your need for him and your blood. It’s delicious, this lusty haze you’ve found yourself in. You can’t get enough.

Astarion, for his part, feels very much the same, totally lost to the feeling of your cunt constricting around his cock. There’s no real pace as he fucks you, going from bruising to deep to gentle and back in the span of a few heartbeats. He can’t believe this is what sex is supposed to feel like, can’t believe the gods allowed him such a beautiful creature to complete him, to allow him to ravish and be ravished.

He’s groaning against your neck, mouth agape as he hikes your thigh up further and opens you up just that much more. You can feel him brushing your cervix at this angle and the sting is positively delightful. How wonderful it feels to be loved like this, you think, drunk on cock. How beautiful he is, taking your body for everything it will give him. He deserves this, you ponder, squealing after a particularly hard thrust. He’s mouthing at your neck now, hips maintaining a steady, plundering pace, fucking into you so deliciously you know you won’t think of anything else for days.

“Darling,” he pants, voice cracking. “Please, my love. Let me feast.”

You moan and tilt your head, shamelessly giving him the access you know you’re both desperate for. Astarion groans as he sinks his fangs into your neck, once again gulping down a greedy mouthful. You feel a thousand miles away for a moment, though feeling returns to you as he lifts your hips up with one hand, desperately trying to shove as much of his cock into you as possible. You keen and moan at the onslaught of sensations, stars floating in your vision as the blood loss and impending orgasm threaten to drown you.

He’s groaning and growling and fuck, if it’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You register your legs as they lock around his waist, the feeling of his hand as it tangled in your hair, the icy numbness at your neck as he drinks his fill. It is all encompassing, the euphoria that overtakes you then. You hear something like his name slip past your lips in a throaty cry before your cunt bears down on his cock, white hot heat flooding your pussy as the sweet release of orgasm takes you. He lets out a load moan too and then you feel it, the feeling of his cock spilling every drop of seed into you. You moan dizzily, dazed, rocking your hips in tandem with his as you both ride out the last waves of your orgasms.

Finally, he pulls away from your neck and pants heavily by your ear, collapsing on top of you as the last of his orgasm tears through him. You feel so delightfully spent, bleary and half awake as he carefully pulls out of you, assessing the mess he made of you.

“You’re beautiful when you’re so cock-drunk, my love,” he whispers, headily. “Look at you, pet, so debauched. I’m honored to have been the one to ruin you like this.”

He pulls you into his arms and you manage a sleepy hum as you kiss his neck. “That was probably the greatest sex I think I’ve ever had,” you muse, sated. “However, I do think this blood bag should like some water. She’s been drunk dry.”

Astarion let’s out a lovely little laugh, kissing your forehead as he reaches behind you and takes your glass of water from the nightstand.

He smiles contentedly as you sip steadily.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face. “You are a gift.”

You smile back at him, allowing him to take your now empty glass and set it back on the table. You settle into him again, body heavy and achy and so sticky you feel a little embarrassed but nothing matters besides the kisses he smarts into your hairline.

“I don’t know if we’ll survive what’s to come,” he starts, gently. “But I do know I will spend every moment thankful to be by your side, come what may. I love you.”

“And I love you,” you respond, meeting his tender gaze. “I’m with you, Astarion, till the end.”

The both of you fall quiet and bask in the tenderness of the moment. You know what horrors lurk beyond the doors of the little inn you’d found yourselves, know that Cazador waits for him somewhere in the city, but you both resign yourselves to the tranquility of the moment.

He hopes one day, this will be his everyday.

For now, he is content to pretend with you for one night, to allow himself this small bit of grace before he walks towards whatever destiny has in store for him, come what may.

❧❧❧

Well, here we are. It's been actual years since I've posted to tumblr and I've forgotten how this godforsaken site operates. Anyways, this is crossposted from my Ao3 - I wrote it a few months ago when I was deep in the trenches for Astarion. I decided that I may as well post it here and I'll add that I will be opening up prompt requests just so I could get back into the groove of writing for my next fic, a very heavy-handed take on the Gale romance. Feel free to drop into my inbox for any requests you might have, and please do enjoy this delicious little fic. As always, replies and reblogs are much adored!

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