Astarion X Female Oc - Tumblr Posts

Indelible Imprints

Chapter 8

Word Count: 6.9k

Summary:

-Astarion gets carried away and he and Erin have to deal with the aftermath.

Ao3

Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Hi! Here we are, it’s bite night! I’ve been looking forward to this chapter, so I really hope you like it!

P.S. - I edited very lightly so please forgive my grammatical sins. :) <3

Reblogs, comments, and the like are always super appreciated! It means a lot to me to see that people like this story.

Chat with me in the comments! I’m always excited to talk about this game and my favorite vampire. <3

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Astarion

"Ow! Godsdammit, that hurt!"

Astarion put his hand to his head where the lute had hit him. At the sound of his voice Erin gasped.

"Astarion?! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was yo-"

She paused, stopping herself. "Wait, no. That's dumb. I'm not sorry!" She squinted at him in the darkness. "What the hell are you doing in here?? Turn on my lamp right now!" 

Despite being unable to see, Erin pulled her lute back, holding it like a bludgeoning weapon, and glared at him through the darkness.

Not wanting to be struck again, he quickly muttered, "ignis," and a small flame came to life in the tent.

He was caught. Panicked, he reached through his mind for something, anything to say.

"Darling, I simply came to check on your condition. I wanted to make sure no more wounds had reopened."

Her hands gripped the lute a bit tighter, and the lamplight intensified her glare as she stared at Astarion. 

"Try again. What were you doing hovering over my body in the middle of the night while I slept? You were NOT hovered over my injury."

He held his hands up protectively to shield himself in case she tried swinging the instrument at him again.

“Wait, no! I swear, this is not what it looks like!” Lying about it wouldn’t help him now. “I just needed a little… Well, blood.” He chanced a glance at her past his hands, still in front of him.

Her grip on the lute slackened. She let go with one hand to reach toward him and pushed his hands away from his face and looked at him. 

“What?” She asked, bewildered.

He fought the urge to bring his hands back up to cover his face so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Well, I suppose there’s one small detail about me that just hasn’t come up naturally yet. I’m… a vampire.” He breathed out an uneasy laugh, deeply uncomfortable.

“No way,” She whispered. “No way vampires are real.” She paused, thinking hard. “What does that even mean here? You’ve got to be different from the vampires from stories back home. I mean, you can stand in the sun, and you’re definitely not sparkly or anything like that. I guess you’re pale, but not much more than me. Do you have fangs? Can I see them?”

Astarion cleared his throat awkwardly. This was not the response he’d expected. He noticed she’d let go of the lute entirely and took it as a sign that she didn’t intend to whack him with it an again or stake him, at the very least. 

“I’m not sure how to answer your first question. Although the fact that I can stand in the sun is an anomaly gifted by the tadpole. Without it, I’d be cinders. As for your last two questions; Yes, I have fangs. No, you can’t see them.”

“Oh, come on,” Erin whined, “Why not?”

Astarion arched a brow, “Well, to be frank, you’re being a little weird about it.”

She laughed. “I’m weird? You’re the one who tried to snack on me while I slept in the middle of the night, and I’m weird?” 

He frowned. “I mean, a little?”

Exasperated, she shrugged. “Whatever. You don’t have to show me your teeth. I just don’t understand why you didn’t say something sooner.”

She said it as if it would have been the easiest thing in the world to have told her before. As if he wouldn’t have been run out of camp immediately. As if she didn’t see him as some sort of monster.

“What in the nine hells are you talking about?” He laughed bitterly, “At best, I thought you’d turn me away. At worst, I thought you’d drive a stake through my heart. Of course I didn’t say anything. I needed you to trust me.”

She rolled her eyes at him. "So you thought the best time to tell me that you're a vampire and you need blood was right after I got gravely injured and lost a lot of it already? What was your thought process here?” 

Dropping her voice, she started imitating him the way she had in the forest the night before. “Oh darling, you’ve already lost some blood, what's a little more?” Giving him a pointed look, she returned to her normal speaking tone, “Really?" 

“Well, no-” he started, but she cut him off.

"No, wait, that's wrong. Because you weren't even going to tell me any of that or even ask for it! You seriously thought you could bite me while I slept and I wouldn't notice? Are you kidding me?"

He ducked away from her reproach as though she’d hit him again. The lute may have been preferable to the scolding. It wasn’t normal for him to be so sloppy, and she was illuminating just how much the lack of proper feeding had been affecting him in a way that left him feeling embarrassed and raw.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what else to do! I’m weak. I haven’t had anything substantial in days.” 

Years, actually.

He continued, “It’s been affecting me, making me slow. Tired. Then you were hurt and there was so much blood, the smell was so strong I couldn’t think clearly. And that’s when I got shot with that damned arrow.”

“You got hurt?”

“I don’t blame you for not noticing. You were preoccupied.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, just with the minor inconvenience of being chewed alive. But I’m so glad you’re not upset I wasn’t paying attention to you in the moment.”

His eyes darkened. “It shouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t been so weak, it wouldn’t have.”

For a moment, Erin just stared at him, working something out in her head. He wished he could hear her thoughts and briefly considered using the tadpole before deciding he didn’t need to give her another reason to be angry with him.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were hungry last night.” She finally said.

He looked to the ground before answering. “I was starving. I needed to find something to feed on.”

Her brows pushed together, and she looked sad as she watched him. “So you’ve just been struggling this whole time?”

“I wasn’t sure if I could trust you. I needed you to trust me first.” He finally met her eyes. Concern creased his brow, and his eyes looked wide and earnest. “You can, by the way. Trust me, I mean.”

“I do.” She said it so easily, without any hesitation. He searched her face for any indication to the contrary, but couldn’t find any. She looked at him plainly. Honestly.

He risked it. “Do you… think you could trust me a little further? I’d only need a taste, I swear.”

It was quiet for a moment while he watched her think. Desperate, he added, "Perhaps you could consider it your favor for the archery lessons paid!"

Her eyes brightened and she laughed. "You didn't give me a lesson, remember?"

Damn.

"Paid in advance, then." He suggested.

Erin sighed, and he worried she was about to send him away. Instead, she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Stop it. I'm not worried about the favor. I'll help you. Just… don’t take more than you need, okay?”

“Really?” He was elated. He couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed. “I - not one drop more. I promise.”

He reached over her and pulled the lute from her side, setting it back in the corner of the tent. Then he nodded to her bedroll.

“Let’s get a little more comfortable, shall we?”

She nodded slowly and laid back down, pulling her covers up over her body, leaving just her neck and above exposed. “I’m gonna roll over on my side, if that’s okay?”

It was more than okay. This way, he would hardly have to touch her. He simply nodded and she turned. 

He leaned over her once more, reaching out to gently cradle her head and hold her arm. Lowering his head to her neck, he pressed his lips to her skin. He felt her pulse at the juncture between her shoulder and neck and gave it a thankful peck before setting his teeth against the spot. She took a deep breath, and as she let it out, he snapped his jaw shut. After he’d pierced the skin, he relaxed his jaw to gulp down mouthfuls of the blood that poured out. 

It was unbelievable. He’d hardly registered the short gasp she’d let out. When she winced he gripped her tighter; not wanting to waste a single drop. He was so hungry. Nothing he’d had before had tasted even remotely like this. 

How have I lived so long without this?

He drank, and drank, and drank. It felt like what he was supposed to do, the only thing he should have ever been drinking his entire afterlife. He’d never had a choice before, and did that ever make this taste all the sweeter. 

He didn’t even have to steal it. She gave it freely, absolving him of any guilt he might have felt for it. Not that he would have felt much after tasting her. How could he, when she was so delectable? It felt good to drink from her. Why did it feel so damn good? He gulped greedily, wanting more, needing more. He only stopped when he realized he was having to suck much harder than before to pull any blood out of her wound.

He jerked his head back and away from her. She hadn’t been exaggerating before, she was already very pale to begin with, but now she lacked any color whatsoever. The pink flush in her cheeks was gone. Panicked, he focused his hearing on her breath. It was weak, and slow, far too slow. Giving her shoulder a gentle shake, he asked, “Darling? Are you alright?”

She didn’t answer. 

No! Godsdammit, no!

He was panicking. Looking quickly around the tent, he saw a few of the healing potions Shadowheart had left by Erin’s bedroll. They wouldn’t be enough. 

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Then he remembered. After the fight at the grove, the wizard had passed the scrolls around to everyone in the group. 

In case we wind up in a predicament like this again, he’d said, I’ve taken it upon myself to procure scrolls of Revivify for everyone in the group. We got very lucky with our friend, but I shudder to think what might have happened had Shadowheart’s magic been depleted. This way we will all be a little more prepared to help one another.

Giving her one last glance, Astarion snapped up and sprinted as fast as he could to his tent. It wasn’t far, but if the wizard was to be listened to, he didn’t have much time. Throwing the flap up, he’d reached inside and grabbed the half-unfurled scroll from the corner he’d tossed it. 

He hadn’t considered he’d actually use it when the wizard handed it to him. He merely scoffed and tossed it aside. 

No one had ever saved him, why should he be expected to do it for anyone else? That wasn’t true anymore, though. 

Erin had saved him. She could have screamed and alerted the whole camp, could have had them kill him, could have done it herself. She could have refused him and sent him away. But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she trusted him. Let him drink from her. 

And he killed her. 

She saved him and he killed her. 

Now, he was racing to her side to save her.

He ducked under the flap of her tent again and sat beside her. He didn’t hear anything. No breath, no heartbeat.

No, no, no!

He unfurled the scroll and frantically recited the words. The scroll illuminated, then fell away from his hands, disintegrating into nothing. He watched her closely for what felt like far too long.

Then she heaved a stuttering breath. 

He quickly snatched one of the healing potions at her side and unstoppered it, shoving it in her mouth and sealing it with his hand so it didn’t spill out. 

“Drink, you must drink it!”

Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes and she gulped the liquid down. When the bottle emptied, he pulled it from her mouth and reached for the next. She let out sob, her breath coming quick and uneven. The tears didn’t stop coming. He brought the next bottle to her mouth and she yanked it out of his hands.

“NO!” She shouted, pushing him away.

“Darling, please. You need more to recover.” He pleaded.

“And whose fault is that?!” She shouted again, and when he tried to motion for her to lower her voice, she looked as though she might combust. “Don’t you dare shush me right now! Get out! Right now!” 

This was it. The response he’d been expecting from the start. She was sending him away. And he deserved it.

She continued, “I don’t want you to touch or be near me right now.”

Right now?

She drank the potion he’d handed her in one big gulp, then tossed it at him. “Go get a few more of these potions and leave them outside my tent. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He couldn’t understand. “In the-”

“Please, Astarion. I’m too angry with you right now. Just go away so I can sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Relief flooded him. She wasn’t sending him away. He had a little more time.

“I - Of course.” He backed away from her and out of the tent. He went back to his own and retrieved the potions she’d asked for and left them outside her tent as she’d instructed. He cleared his throat before leaving, so she’d know he’d left them there, then went back to his tent. 

He didn’t know how long it would take for him to slip into a trance, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the thought of tasting her blood from his thoughts. Or the guilt that followed.

***

Erin

When she woke the next morning, Erin was surprised to feel… fine? Physically, at least. After everything from the day before, she’d expected to be in unbearable pain that morning. 

If the aftermath of having had a wolf chomp down on her abdomen wasn’t enough to cause some discomfort the next day, she’d thought maybe dying and being brought back to life would have some more obvious repercussions. She thought maybe she’d wake up to find herself dry and shriveled up like a raisin after what had happened. He just drank so much, she thought there’d be nothing left. 

What surprised her most though, was how it hadn’t even hurt. Sure, there had been the initial sting of his bite that made her wince, but after that there was no pain. Just a slight tingle and a sense of weightlessness that slowly spread through her body. It may have been because she’d been tired and had already lost a lot of blood, but it had been an oddly soothing sensation. Until she woke up and realized he’d killed her. 

He killed her.

She died.

Erin didn’t know how to feel. There was an ache deep within her and a buzzing anxiety tensing her shoulders and neck. She had been worried she’d die here, but she never allowed herself long to dwell on the fear. If she’d spent more than a moment considering her own mortality in this horrible, dangerous place, she’d be too inhibited by fear to function. So she avoided thinking about it too much.

She never thought a friend would kill her. 

Is he my friend? She wondered. She had thought so. At least, she thought they were getting there. She wanted to be his friend. He seemed like he needed one. 

Her heart had ached when he’d told her how he’d been starving. There was a sadness to him in that moment that made her believe he’d been suffering much worse than just hunger. She wondered what had happened to him, that made him so afraid. 

He seemed so confident before, if a little showy. She hadn’t realized until last night how much of an act it was. How could such a beautiful person with supernatural powers have anything to be afraid of? Wasn’t he the one for others to fear?

He killed her. She should be afraid of him.

He also brought her back to life. Saved her from what he did. There was panic and worry in his eyes when he’d shoved the potion in her mouth. He hadn’t meant to kill her. She couldn’t find it in herself to be afraid of him anymore. 

They’d talked with each other enough over the past few days that she knew he wasn’t just some monster. He may not be the most honest or kind person she’d ever met, but he was a person. When he wasn’t being an ass, he could be funny and companionable. In those moments, she enjoyed his company. He was her friend. Whether he thought so or not.

She needed to talk to him. As she started to sit up, pushing the covers off her body, she heard someone step just outside her tent. A moment passed before she heard a little, “ahem” from the other side of the flap.

“I need to check on your wounds. Are you awake yet?” Shadowheart asked, although she didn’t wait for Erin’s response to push open the flap and let herself in. She looked down at Erin with a small smile. “You’re up. Good.”

Shadowheart sat beside her and pointed to Erin’s sleep-shirt. “Would you lift that a bit?” It was the university tee she’d been wearing when they met. Someone had washed it for her when Shadowheart was tending to her yesterday. “I want to see how it’s healed. I was hoping there wouldn’t be too much scar tissue, as it could cause you discomfort in the future.”

Erin obeyed and lifted the hem of her shirt up to her ribs. Shadowheart knelt closer to observe the remaining marks and gingerly touched them at different spots, asking if there was any pain or tightness when she applied pressure. It reminded Erin of going to the doctor’s office. For being occasionally curt, Shadowheart had a pretty decent bedside manner. 

“Okay, that’s not too bad. Although I had expected you’d have healed more by now. Did you sleep well last night?” Shadowheart asked, inspecting her face for signs of weariness.

“Uh,” Erin shrugged and tried to think of what to say. 

Astarion had been too afraid to tell them he was a vampire, she didn’t feel like she should share it now. They hadn’t even had a chance to talk about it yet. It should be up to him. She looked back at Shadowheart.

“I guess I slept as well as I could have after everything. If it helps, nothing hurts. I don’t even have a headache.” It wasn’t a lie. Erin was still surprised about the lack of pain.

Shadowheart nodded. “Well, I suppose it’s to be expected. We’re not exactly laying our heads down on feather beds at night. I probably should have tried to find you some more pillows to help you rest yesterday.” She glanced over at Erin’s single pillow at the top of her bedroll. 

“Wait,” she squinted at the pillow. “What’s that? Did one of your wounds open in the night? There wasn’t blood there when I left you.” She looked back at Erin, concerned. “I don’t remember you having an injury above your middle.” She started to reach out to inspect Erin’s upper body for the injury.

Panicked, Erin moved to her side to hide Astarion’s bite mark from her view. Unfortunately, she had forgotten where he’d bitten her and turned the wrong side away from Shadowheart. The bite mark was on full display, and the few potions Astarion had given her were not enough to completely heal the bruising there. He’d taken too much of her blood.

Shadowheart grabbed Erin’s shoulders, yanking her closer so she could inspect the wound.

“This was not here yesterday.” Her eyes flitted back up to Erin’s, appraising. “Why are you hiding it?”

Erin tried to back away, but Shadowheart kept her grip on her shoulders, preventing her from moving as she looked at the ground nervously. She was considering feigning ignorance or making something up when a familiar voice called from outside the tent.

“Good morning, Darling!” Astarion ducked his head into the tent, holding the flap up with his arm. “How are you feeling?”

Relieved to have a distraction from Shadowheart’s questioning, Erin relaxed a little.

“I’m okay. Just a bit woozy.”

Shadowheart cut in. “You didn’t tell me you were feeling woozy. Is it that wound on your neck?”

Erin paled at the mention of the bite in front of Astarion and before she could help it, she reflexively looked at him. His eyes were on the wound, and they widened for just a moment before his expression became passive and unreadable. It seemed as if he’d stopped breathing, and his entire body looked too stiff.

Shadowheart caught it. She followed Erin’s gaze to Astarion.

“What’s going on?” She glared at him. “Did you do this?”

Before he could say anything, the words flooded out of Erin’s mouth.

“He didn’t mean to! It’s okay, Shadowheart, it was an accident, he just got carried away but he brought me back so it’s—

Shadowheart cut her off, whipping her head around to look at Erin. “What do you mean, he ‘brought you back?’” Her head snapped back to him, “What did you do, vampire?” She practically spat the last word.

He held his arms out in front of himself protectively. “Well, hold on!” He started.

Erin cut in again. “He didn’t do anything that he hasn’t already fixed, or that I didn’t give him permission to do. Please, let it go. I’m fine, okay?”

Shadowheart dropped her glare and looked at Erin. “So. we have a vampire in camp. I guess that explains the pallor. You’re okay with this?” She asked.

Erin nodded.

“Well… I suppose we’re all monsters-in-the-making here, with the tadpoles and all.” She gave Astarion a pointed look. “I don’t want to see another bite on her body. She almost die-” she stopped herself, apparently realizing Erin actually did die last night. She frowned at him and continued. “She’s still healing.”

“Of course,” was all he said as his gaze slid from Shadowheart back to Erin. 

Shadowheart looked between the two of them and sighed, crawling up to leave. “She needs to rest.”

Once she was out of the tent, Erin looked back up at Astarion.

“We should talk,” she said. “But I should get dressed first. Can I meet you outside your tent?”

His eyes lingered for a while on her neck, where he’d bitten her. Finally, he nodded, then turned and left the tent.

Erin sighed and lied back down in her bedroll. She would get dressed soon, but for now, she just needed a moment.

***

Worried about leaving Astarion by himself too long without talking, she didn’t take too much time to herself. Erin was starting to realize that it was probably best not to leave him to his own devices with any uncertainties hanging in the air between them. He was an impulsive man.

Someone had set some clean folded clothes in the corner of her tent for her. Probably whoever had cleaned her sleep shirt. Erin picked them up and changed, making a note to herself to ask who had done it so she could thank them. 

She reached into her duffel and pulled out her toothbrush and toothpaste. It was a new tube, and she had been using it very sparingly, hoping it would last her until she found a way home. She squeezed a small dot of the stuff on her brush and shoved it in her mouth, idly wondering what the others’ oral hygiene routine was like as she brushed. 

Astarion’s teeth came to mind. They were quite pretty, what she had seen of them. Clean and fairly white. Could vampire fangs get cavities? What if they did? Would they pull them out and wait for a new one to pop out? Did they floss? 

Imagining Astarion attempting to floss his fangs only for them to snap against the sharp canines every time made her giggle to herself. 

She spit into the bowl next to her bedroll that Shadowheart had used to clean her wounds last night and set her brush on the cleanest spot she could find on her bedroll so it could air out before she put it back in her duffel later.

She dug around in her bag for a few more things and set them in front of her. First, she picked up the deodorant and reached it up under her shirt to swipe under her arms. She was going to feel absolutely disgusting once her toiletries ran out. Still, she’d use them as long as she could. 

Maybe there was an alternative she could use here. So far, none of the others seemed to have a bad case of B.O. outside of a long day spent being active in layers of leather and armor. 

In fact, the others smelled quite nice when they were in camp. They had to be using some kind of perfumes or oils. Shadowheart smelled sweet and spicy, she had a smoky floral scent to her. Gale smelled like books and leather, cozy and clean. 

She had almost immediately noticed the way Astarion had smelled, probably because he’d kept close to her from the moment he’d joined their group. He smelled fresh, almost like citrus. She didn’t really know what it was, but she liked it. 

It wasn’t until last night that she’d noticed another layer to it. Underneath the initial citrusy freshness was… petrichor. Something like damp soil and leaves on a crisp autumn day. It brought her comfort when he hovered over her before the bite. 

Thinking about the bite reminded her of what else she’d pulled out of her bag. She tossed the deodorant back into the duffel and picked up her makeup bag. It was small, and didn’t have a lot inside, but there was a compact mirror and some foundation she could use. She pulled them out of the small bag and opened the compact to inspect the marks on her neck. 

It wasn’t very pretty. However, she could see how Shadowheart might have missed it, being more focused on her abdomen when she’d come in. The mark was just above the crook of her neck and could easily be obscured if she left her hair down. 

Still, the bruising around it was ugly, and she was surprised it didn’t hurt. She gingerly touched it with her fingertips, testing to see if putting something there would be painful. 

After a moment’s inspection, she made up her mind and dabbed a little foundation on the cushion from her compact and gently applied it to the bruise. She didn’t use much, just enough to lighten the bruise and hopefully keep others from noticing. 

Once she was satisfied with her blending, she brushed her hair and separated two sections at the top of her head to tie off into buns and hide a bit of the greasiness in her hair, letting the rest fall loose and obscure her neck a bit.

She looked back into the compact for another moment. 

That’s probably about as good as it’s gonna get here, she thought.

She left her tent and headed over to Astarion’s, only to see the others heading there as well. 

Rushing to meet him before the others got there, Erin greeted the group.

“Morning, guys! Did… Shadowheart talk to you all?”

Of course she had. 

The group started expressing their feelings about vampires, Gale explicitly stating he’d tasted awful to Astarion, and for a moment Erin wondered how he’d know what his own blood tasted like. She snapped out of the thought and addressed the group. 

“You guys need to calm down. I trust him. Besides, he won’t feed off anyone else. Just me. Right, Astarion?”

Astarion had been standing there wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights, until she’d spoken up. He gave her a confused look. She raised her brows and slightly gestured to the group with her head, trying to get him to say something to reassure them. He got the idea and slowly started to speak.

“Erm, yes. Right. I’ll keep my fangs to myself.”

Erin let out a breath of relief. “See? It’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. We’re all fine. Nothing else to see here.” 

The group eyed him warily, but conceded. They each gave him their own unique warning against biting them, which Erin felt was a little uncalled for after the matter was settled, and wandered off to their own chores for the morning while Gale set to making breakfast.

“Crazy start to the morning, huh?” She chuckled, looking back at Astarion.

He eyed her suspiciously. “You seem… better. Since last night.”

Right. That.

She sighed. “Yeah. Have anything you’d like to say about that?”

He winced as though she’d hit him. She remembered that she had hit him and fought the smile that crept up her lips at the ridiculous memory. Not a bruise on his face, though. She guessed it was a perk of vampirism.

He studied her face for a moment before responding.

Warily, he asked her, “Do you?” 

He asked the question with so much hesitance, and looked as though he was bracing himself for her to say something devastating. She remembered how panicked he’d looked shoving the potion in her mouth the night before and thought he must have been feeling some sort of remorse now as well. 

“I’m not going to lie and say no harm done or anything. But. I’m not going to hold it against to you. It was an accident. We’re good.” She added, “It was an accident, right?”

His answer was immediate. “Of course it was an accident! You don’t think I’d have done it on purpose just to bring you back so you could stake me for it?”

She raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just checking! Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me staking you. Like I said, we’re good.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Really? Just like that?”

“What were you expecting?”

“You were quite upset last night… I thought you might kick me out of camp. Or leave me to the others.”

She raised a brow, looking at him. “And you still stayed?”

“Well…” He shrugged. “I hoped you wouldn’t.”

A big grin spread wide across her face. “Sounds like someone’s starting to trust me, too. You want to be friends, don’t you Astarion?” She waggled her brows at him, very satisfied with her conclusion.

He scoffed. “On second thought, maybe I’ll just take my chances—” he started to turn, as if to walk away from the conversation, but Erin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh stop. No use denying it now,” she laughed. “Besides, we need to figure out how we’re going to feed you from now on.”

He rolled his eyes. “I thought you’d made that quite clear just a moment ago? I’m to feed exclusively on you now if I recall correctly.” He paused, looking at her again. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” He asked uncertainly.

She waved the question away. “No, no. You can still drink my blood. But we need to figure out a different way to do it.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “What do you mean?”

"The previous method didn't work, if you'll remember. After last night, I don’t think you should bite me anymore."

His mouth gaped. "What? That was an accident! You're fine now, aren't you? It's not as though I didn't bring you back."

"I'm not fine.” She poked his chest. “I died. That's something I thought I would only have to experience once, preferably of old age, and not have to remember. But I do remember. And it sucked."

He smirked, and she swatted him on the arm for it.

"You don't get to laugh at an accidental pun about how you killed me."

His smirk dropped and his brows lifted slightly, giving his eyes a wide, soft appearance.

"You're right, darling. I - I'm sorry. I just - you-" he paused, looking to the ground. He looked back to Erin, his face tilted away as though he might run away. Was he... embarrassed?

"The truth is... you were my first." he cleared his throat and looked down at one of the many pillows he had lying on the carpet laid out before his tent.

Erin was shocked into silence as blood rushed straight to her cheeks. 

"What?" She asked.

"You were the first... thinking creature I've drunk from. I've only ever fed from animals before you."

She didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

"Are you new to being a vampire or something?"

She couldn't think of another reason for her to be his first person to drink from. Astarion didn't strike her as someone who would have a moral code against feeding from thinking creatures, as he put it. 

"Ahah!" He laughed, a more bitter edge to the sound than the silly high-pitched one she had grown used to.

"Oh goodness, no. I've had this… condition for nearly two hundred years."

Her eyes widened. She couldn’t fathom being alive for that long, let alone hungry. 

“Was there any particular reason you didn’t drink from a person until now?”

He scowled. “Yes.” He didn’t say anything else.

Erin decided now wouldn’t be the best time to pry. She continued on.

“Well, after being hungry for so long, I think drinking from a person might be something you’ll have to ease yourself into. I want to help you, but I don’t want you to get carried away again, whether or not you mean to.” 

She wondered at what she could do. She didn’t like the idea of cutting herself with a knife. With her luck, she’d get tetanus. Shadowheart seemed to be pretty good at treating wounds, but she didn’t know how far those abilities extended. If she was at home, she could go to the doctor for an infection like that. Here, she didn’t know. Thinking about her doctors’ office did give her an idea though.

She looked at Astarion. "One second,” she said. “I have an idea. I'll be back."

Erin ran toward Shadowheart's tent before he could ask any questions. 

"Knock knock!" She said, standing just outside the tent flap.

She watched as Shadowheart lifted the tent flap just enough to give her an amused look through the opening. 

"You know, I don't think you can knock on a tent flap."

Erin grinned. "Which is why I said it! Do you have a minute? I'd like your help with something."

Shadowheart lifted the flap open further and nodded at Erin to come in.

The smell of incense filled her lungs as she stepped in. Looking at the small set of items laid out in what looked like a makeshift altar, Erin thought she must have interrupted Shadowheart praying or something.

Shadowheart watched Erin, waiting for her to tell her why she was there. A few hours had passed since she’d come to check on her that morning, but she still looked wary.

"Since you're a healer, you wouldn’t happen to keep any medical supplies with you, would you? And before you ask - my wounds are still fine."

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at her.

"What kind of supplies?"

Erin thought it would be too much to hope for anything similar to what they used to draw her blood when she donated at blood drives back home.

"Do you have any needles?"

"I have a kit for stitching wounds. What do you need it for?"

Ignoring her question, Erin asked her own. "Do you think you could help me draw blood with it? About a pint of it?"

"Why?"

"Because that's about the amount I'm used to having drawn. Any less might be too little, and any more might make me faint."

"Why do you want me to draw your blood?" Shadowheart asked again.

"Do you think you could accurately get a vein here?" Erin tapped her inner elbow, where she was used to phlebotomists sticking her. "My veins are a little small, I don't drink nearly as much water here as I'm used to drinking back home, but I'm more active which probably helps with the bloodfl-"

"Erin." Shadowheart interrupted her tersely, "Why. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Draw. Your. Blood."

Erin huffed. "So you're allowed to keep things to yourself, but I'm not?"

Shadowheart's expression remained stony.

"Not when you want my help with whatever it is you're doing."

Erin sighed. "Fine. It's for Astarion."

"I knew it!” Shadowheart slammed her fists down on the floor of her tent. "Why would you give him more after what he did to you? Do you really have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever?"

"He didn't do it on purpose! He brought me back as soon as he realized what he'd done!"

Shadowheart laughed humorlessly. "That was the very least he could do! Why are you defending him?"

"Because he's not a bad person. He made a mistake, and he apologized. I know that doesn't magically fix everything, but he's still my friend and I want to help him.” She gave Shadowheart a pleading look. “He needs blood, and I'm not going to judge him for something he can't control. I can't deny him it anymore than I could deny you water."

"The difference is I'm not dependent on you for water. I don't take it from your body." 

"He's not taking, I'm giving,” Erin corrected her. “And it's not even that big of a deal. I used to donate my blood for people who needed it back home. The procedure was similar to what I'm asking you to do now." 

Shadowheart gave her a long, hard look.

"Fine." She relented. "I'll help you. If only to keep you from letting him bite you again. But I want you to be careful. You might not be willing to stake him, but I am."

Erin looked down at the floor of the tent between them. "Please don't joke about that, Shadowheart."

"Who's joking?"

Erin frowned deeply at her.

Shadowheart sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh fine. But if he kills you permanently, it will be his end."

"He won't." Erin replied softly.

***

When Erin returned to Astarion’s tent, she was carrying three bottles in her arm. She looked tired, but pleased with herself as she reached out to offer him one of the bottles.

He looked down to the proffered bottle, then back at her.

"What's this?"

"What do you think?" She laughed, setting the other two bottles down on the small table he kept outside his tent.

He watched her set the bottles down and looked back to the one in his hand. "Where did you get it?"

"Again, where do you think?" She laughed again, tapping the inside of her wrist where Shadowheart had drawn the blood from. There was a small pinprick there.

"I thought it'd be easier this way," She said. "We don't have to worry about you getting carried away, and I can give you blood pretty regularly. I thought I'd only be able to do about a pint at a time, but those nifty healing potions seem to replenish what I've lost pretty fast!” He was staring at her, his face unreadable, and she looked away from him as she went on.

“I could probably do a little more once I’ve had a few days to rest from the wolf bite, and, well. Dying. I might not always be able to do a lot, depending on how exhausting our day was, but I wanted to give you as much as I could tonight since you've gone so long without.” She still hadn’t met his gaze again, and she started shifting her weight from one foot to the other, lightly bouncing in place as she kept talking.

“Anyway, you might be able to cut it with some animal blood to make it last a bit longer? That way you'd get the benefits of having some human blood while still being able to drink enough to be well-fed. I know it's probably not your ideal diet, but—"

"Erin,” he finally interrupted her. “Stop talking."

"Hmm?” She looked at him again, a little surprised, and looked away again. “Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. This was just the only thing I could think of—"

"Erin."

She met his gaze.

"This... it's- I-" he paused, "Thank you."

She smiled back at him. “Of course.”

Back at the campfire, Gale called to the camp, letting everyone know that breakfast was ready. Erin waved at Gale over her shoulder, then looked back at Astarion.

“Well, now that you’ve got your breakfast, I guess I better go get mine.” She chuckled softly.

Astarion nodded, watching her go as she walked toward where Gale was ladling out bowls. 

Hello, friends! Here is a snippet of Chapter 9 of my bg3 isekai fanfic, Indelible Imprints! You can read the whole chapter on Ao3! I'll be posting the chapter to Tumblr tomorrow!

Another snippet? Another snippet.

This is from Chapter 9 of my bg3 isekai fanfic, Indelible Imprints! You can read the full chapter in Ao3 or in the pinned post on my blog!

It's WIP Wednesday and I woke up too early, so here's a lil bit of Chapter 10 of Indelible Imprints! You can read chapters 1-9 on Ao3 or here on on my blog!

Initially I wrote chapters 9 & 10 as one big chapter, but it got away from me and I had to split it. The upside of that is that chapter 10 is mostly finished and should be posted in a few days!

WIP Whenever!!! 🖤

Thank you for tagging me, @verbenaa!! Your snippet was AMAZING 😍🥵

Please have a little WIP of my most recent chapter, quite a few thousand words down the line from Chapter 2!

She kisses his wrist, running her fingers down his abdomen before stopping where his shirt is tucked into his pants. Astarion angles his body to give her better access and she gently shuffles it off of him, letting it flutter to the ground before he presses them together and once again draws their mouths against each other. He sighs when her chest touches his, her quiet gasp stealing his unneeded breath as she shifts her hips and dissolves in his arms. Before she’d been almost timid, and now he generates a heat in her that paints her in near desperation as he fights not to be completely swept up by it. He cradles her generous chest in his hands, relishing in the soft whimpers that pass into his mouth as his thumbs stroke over pert flesh. He drifts down to kiss her neck and for a moment he considers sinking his fangs in, but decides against it. He’s surprised to smell the sharp bouquet of vanilla and licorice root and when he looks up, blood pools on her lower lip. Something akin to a wave of pleasure jolts through him- a surprise outside of his control. She’d… bitten it herself? A second ticks by, another, and he crashes their lips together, powerless to resist the feeling of bliss that coats his tongue and spurs his hands to tear the rest of her clothes off. The movement throws them off balance and they collapse to the ground, her thighs pinning his legs together. Their lips don’t stop, and he itches to remove his trousers with the promise of sweet heat straddling his hips, the fabric stifling. Her lip has stopped bleeding, but the flavor remains, and with deft fingers, he goes to undo the front of his pants. Her hands stop him and as she peers down at him through her thick curtain of hair, she peels them down and off along with his underthings before sinking between his legs. “What are you…?” He trails off as she sweeps her curled locks aside, wetting her lips with a swipe of her tongue. With a pleading look in her eyes, he props himself up on one elbow, lost in his realization that he should be the one in control, he should be delivering a pleasure so intense that she’ll never want anything else. The blood from their kiss dulls his mind with foreign lust and he can’t bring himself to protest as a low groan tears from his throat when her hot mouth envelops him whole.

Tagging you all cause I can't get enough of your writing! 💖 (Sorry if you've been double-tagged!)

@preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @khywren @ladyduellist @elinorbard @sashitf @bhaalsdeepbat @justabiteofspite

Chapter 3: But it Was a Trick and The Clock Struck 12

Here's a teaser for tomorrow's chapter! 🖤 (out now!!)

Ofelia tosses and turns beside the fire in the bedroll she’d found, trying to adjust her body to the feeling of sleeping on the ground. Oh, what she’d give for a cot of some kind instead. Sleep isn’t something that usually comes easy anyway, her nights are usually prone to recurrent nightmares... Still, as tired as she is, it remains out of reach. Astarion never returned for the stew, and he’d only come back a little while ago. She’d watched him cross the camp in the darkness, moving quietly as he stalked towards the bedroll next to hers. She’d pretended she was asleep, peeking out of a tiny gap in her lashes to see him hover beside her for a moment, red irises ablaze in the light of the fire. He’d looked predatory, like how a lion would whilst stalking its prey, but the look disappeared in an instant and he’d gone to lay down in his bedroll. She rewinds to the beginning of the day when they first encountered each other. He’s got a mouth on him, that’s for sure, but she can’t really complain when she's just as willing and able to exchange blows. He’s pretty, there’s certainly that. The milk-white of his skin would put porcelain to shame. Tall, sharp, perfect hair… ugh. He’s probably the prettiest person she’s ever seen, or one of them if the others hadn’t also been so weirdly attractive. Even Lae’zel with her tiny little nose… and bossy attitude... I may have issues. She sighs and rolls over, feeling stupid. She can’t help but wonder about Astarion’s eyes- she’s never seen a color like that bar contacts- which she’d sported once upon a time when she used to go out and do something worth getting dressed up for. She trails off, thinking about her old friends… there were a couple, both just as partial to black clothes and dark make-up as her. Oh, what fun they used to have- tripping over their platforms, getting piercings and tattoos. She sighs again, her heart twisting as she glares up at the stars. She doesn’t realize she’s bitten too hard on her lip until the taste of iron flows into her mouth. She swears she sees something shift out of the corner of her eye, but dismisses it and sits up with a quiet swear. She can’t take it anymore- her entire body is sore, she’s irritable, her clothes are itchy… She stands, groaning slightly as she goes to the nearby stone she’d used as a bench earlier in the night. The moon is blazing high overhead, shedding enough light on the bags they’d taken from the group that had left in a mad dash at Astarion’s fabricated threat that mind flayers were invading.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (3) - But It Was a Trick and the Clock Struck 12

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 6,673

Opening of Chatper 3 Under the Cut! 🖤

Ofelia tosses and turns beside the fire in the bedroll she’d found, trying to adjust her body to the feeling of sleeping on the ground. Oh, what she’d give for a cot of some kind instead. Sleep isn’t something that usually comes easy anyway, her nights are usually prone to recurrent nightmares... Still, as tired as she is, it remains out of reach.

Astarion never returned for the stew, and he’d only come back a little while ago. She’d watched him cross the camp in the darkness, moving quietly as he stalked towards the bedroll next to hers. She’d pretended she was asleep, peeking out of a tiny gap in her lashes to see him hover beside her for a moment, red irises ablaze in the light of the fire. He’d looked predatory, like how a lion would whilst stalking its prey, but the look disappeared in an instant and he’d gone to lay down in his bedroll.

She rewinds to the beginning of the day when they first encountered each other. He’s got a mouth on him, that’s for sure, but she can’t really complain when she's just as willing and able to exchange blows. He’s pretty, there’s certainly that. The milk-white of his skin would put porcelain to shame. Tall, sharp, perfect hair… ugh. He’s probably the prettiest person she’s ever seen, or one of them if the others hadn’t also been so weirdly attractive. Even Lae’zel with her tiny little nose… and bossy attitude...

I may have issues. She sighs and rolls over, feeling stupid.

She can’t help but wonder about Astarion’s eyes- she’s never seen a color like that bar contacts- which she’d sported once upon a time when she used to go out and do something worth getting dressed up for. She trails off, thinking about her old friends… there were a couple, both just as partial to black clothes and dark make-up as her. Oh, what fun they used to have- tripping over their platforms, getting piercings and tattoos. She sighs again, her heart twisting as she glares up at the stars.

Chapter 3: But it Was a Trick and The Clock Struck 12

Here's a teaser for tomorrow's chapter! 🖤

Ofelia tosses and turns beside the fire in the bedroll she’d found, trying to adjust her body to the feeling of sleeping on the ground. Oh, what she’d give for a cot of some kind instead. Sleep isn’t something that usually comes easy anyway, her nights are usually prone to recurrent nightmares... Still, as tired as she is, it remains out of reach. Astarion never returned for the stew, and he’d only come back a little while ago. She’d watched him cross the camp in the darkness, moving quietly as he stalked towards the bedroll next to hers. She’d pretended she was asleep, peeking out of a tiny gap in her lashes to see him hover beside her for a moment, red irises ablaze in the light of the fire. He’d looked predatory, like how a lion would whilst stalking its prey, but the look disappeared in an instant and he’d gone to lay down in his bedroll. She rewinds to the beginning of the day when they first encountered each other. He’s got a mouth on him, that’s for sure, but she can’t really complain when she's just as willing and able to exchange blows. He’s pretty, there’s certainly that. The milk-white of his skin would put porcelain to shame. Tall, sharp, perfect hair… ugh. He’s probably the prettiest person she’s ever seen, or one of them if the others hadn’t also been so weirdly attractive. Even Lae’zel with her tiny little nose… and bossy attitude... I may have issues. She sighs and rolls over, feeling stupid. She can’t help but wonder about Astarion’s eyes- she’s never seen a color like that bar contacts- which she’d sported once upon a time when she used to go out and do something worth getting dressed up for. She trails off, thinking about her old friends… there were a couple, both just as partial to black clothes and dark make-up as her. Oh, what fun they used to have- tripping over their platforms, getting piercings and tattoos. She sighs again, her heart twisting as she glares up at the stars. She doesn’t realize she’s bitten too hard on her lip until the taste of iron flows into her mouth. She swears she sees something shift out of the corner of her eye, but dismisses it and sits up with a quiet swear. She can’t take it anymore- her entire body is sore, she’s irritable, her clothes are itchy… She stands, groaning slightly as she goes to the nearby stone she’d used as a bench earlier in the night. The moon is blazing high overhead, shedding enough light on the bags they’d taken from the group that had left in a mad dash at Astarion’s fabricated threat that mind flayers were invading.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (3) - But It Was a Trick and the Clock Struck 12

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 6,673

Opening of Chatper 3 Under the Cut! 🖤

Ofelia tosses and turns beside the fire in the bedroll she’d found, trying to adjust her body to the feeling of sleeping on the ground. Oh, what she’d give for a cot of some kind instead. Sleep isn’t something that usually comes easy anyway, her nights are usually prone to recurrent nightmares... Still, as tired as she is, it remains out of reach.

Astarion never returned for the stew, and he’d only come back a little while ago. She’d watched him cross the camp in the darkness, moving quietly as he stalked towards the bedroll next to hers. She’d pretended she was asleep, peeking out of a tiny gap in her lashes to see him hover beside her for a moment, red irises ablaze in the light of the fire. He’d looked predatory, like how a lion would whilst stalking its prey, but the look disappeared in an instant and he’d gone to lay down in his bedroll.

She rewinds to the beginning of the day when they first encountered each other. He’s got a mouth on him, that’s for sure, but she can’t really complain when she's just as willing and able to exchange blows. He’s pretty, there’s certainly that. The milk-white of his skin would put porcelain to shame. Tall, sharp, perfect hair… ugh. He’s probably the prettiest person she’s ever seen, or one of them if the others hadn’t also been so weirdly attractive. Even Lae’zel with her tiny little nose… and bossy attitude...

I may have issues. She sighs and rolls over, feeling stupid.

She can’t help but wonder about Astarion’s eyes- she’s never seen a color like that bar contacts- which she’d sported once upon a time when she used to go out and do something worth getting dressed up for. She trails off, thinking about her old friends… there were a couple, both just as partial to black clothes and dark make-up as her. Oh, what fun they used to have- tripping over their platforms, getting piercings and tattoos. She sighs again, her heart twisting as she glares up at the stars.

Evening reblog!! Please enjoy another nautiloid pic from my previous post! I have the camera mod now, so I've completely restarted Ofelia’s run and there are SO MANY awesome opportunities for photos, which makes it hard to catch up to chapter 3!

I'll have some more before next Sunday, though!

And I've started back up writing past the point I've left off and it's going to be so angsty! I'm both excited, and sad that I have to inflict pain on my beloved character 💔

Love you all- mwah! 😘

With Stars to Fill My Dream (3) - But It Was a Trick and the Clock Struck 12

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 6,673

Opening of Chatper 3 Under the Cut! 🖤

Ofelia tosses and turns beside the fire in the bedroll she’d found, trying to adjust her body to the feeling of sleeping on the ground. Oh, what she’d give for a cot of some kind instead. Sleep isn’t something that usually comes easy anyway, her nights are usually prone to recurrent nightmares... Still, as tired as she is, it remains out of reach.

Astarion never returned for the stew, and he’d only come back a little while ago. She’d watched him cross the camp in the darkness, moving quietly as he stalked towards the bedroll next to hers. She’d pretended she was asleep, peeking out of a tiny gap in her lashes to see him hover beside her for a moment, red irises ablaze in the light of the fire. He’d looked predatory, like how a lion would whilst stalking its prey, but the look disappeared in an instant and he’d gone to lay down in his bedroll.

She rewinds to the beginning of the day when they first encountered each other. He’s got a mouth on him, that’s for sure, but she can’t really complain when she's just as willing and able to exchange blows. He’s pretty, there’s certainly that. The milk-white of his skin would put porcelain to shame. Tall, sharp, perfect hair… ugh. He’s probably the prettiest person she’s ever seen, or one of them if the others hadn’t also been so weirdly attractive. Even Lae’zel with her tiny little nose… and bossy attitude...

I may have issues. She sighs and rolls over, feeling stupid.

She can’t help but wonder about Astarion’s eyes- she’s never seen a color like that bar contacts- which she’d sported once upon a time when she used to go out and do something worth getting dressed up for. She trails off, thinking about her old friends… there were a couple, both just as partial to black clothes and dark make-up as her. Oh, what fun they used to have- tripping over their platforms, getting piercings and tattoos. She sighs again, her heart twisting as she glares up at the stars.

WIP Whenever/Wednesday!

Okay, so I'm late to Wednesday, but whatever!

I wanted to share something I'm working on while I'm working on my long fic With Stars to Fill My Dream- since the smut is far off, I have been enabled into indulging in an Astarion Incubus one-shot by my lovely friends, and I've been marinating it for the last couple days. All inspired by this beautiful art by @poofroom

It's going to take some heavy lifting on my part, so it will definitely not be a couple-day endeavor since it's currently sitting at 3,987 words and we've barely passed the summoning. That being said, it'll be a long one-shot in an AU of my fic's universe where Ofelia accidentally summons a... you guessed it, incubus! And it's Astarion!

Please enjoy some of this as a teaser since I'm raking myself over the coals trying to make it my best smut work! XOXO 🖤 (Putting it beneath the cut so I don't go to horny jail 🖤)

The curtain flutters away, revealing the silhouette of a man. Except it isn’t a man… As the light illuminates the hard cut of his torso, bat-like wings stretch and unfurl on either side of him, wicked horns curling up and over his silver hair. Red irises glow in the night, trained on her face, a tail swishing behind him. She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t move- her heart pounds, but her body reacts in a way she hadn’t expected. Her skin breaks out in the same feverish sweat that she’d felt before crawling into bed, her stomach aching and her breathing coming in short pants. She chances a glance in the full body mirror across the room, her cheeks flushing red at the uselessness of her night dress. The marks that had started at her neck circle her wrists and close around her thighs like bands. “Am I dreaming?” She asks softly, unable to resist the pull she feels towards him. He takes a step and she tenses, eyes admiring his broad shoulders, ornamental silver bracers covering each forearm. Most of his body is bare, save for the thin piece of satiny fabric and gilded chains covering his hips. Her eyes trace the trail of hair that disappears beneath, down until her breath chokes out of her. Her thighs press together at the hard outline beneath the loincloth, her imagination filling in the gaps- thick, straining, throbbing. Her mouth floods with saliva and she swallows thickly as the steady pulse from earlier begs for attention, her shame dissolving as his crimson gaze flows down over her exposed breasts. The sudden urge to touch him fills her mind until it’s all she can think about, even as he opens his mouth to expose sharp canines. “I’m afraid not.” His voice, smooth and velvety, covers her body like honey- sticky sweet. She shivers as he takes another step, so close now that she can see the sharp tips of his ears beneath his hair. His lips curl into a fiendish grin and she shakes her head, wanting him closer, god, she can’t take the distance anymore. Her mind roars with a desire hotter than anything she’d ever felt- wanting more than anything she’s ever wanted before. It drowns the real her out, save for a single line of curiosity. “What are you?”

I'm specifically tagging you three first because you're enablers, but I'm tagging the rest, no pressure! 🖤 @preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @ladyduellist @khywren @bhaalsdeepbat @elinorbard

And if I didn't tag you, know that I love you and I'm the world's most forgetful person!

5k and counting 👀👀

“Darling… I can’t have you afraid of me. That’s not how this night is going to go.” His soft voice makes her shiver and she’s lulled by the sound of it. She raises her head slightly, gaze growing heavier the longer he stares at her.

“How this night is going to go…?” She echoes, slow, the end shaped like a question. His tail swishes back and forth before the spade tip caresses up her calf. With him finally touching her, she gasps, the softest glance magnified like it was earlier. She shudders, pressing her thighs more tightly together, shaking her head, but her body eventually wins out.

“The terms, dear…” He murmurs, leaning forward again. Her skin is feverish when his tail draws away and he crawls over her again. She shrinks back, lying against her pillows, his thighs caging her in as his hands settle on either side of her head.

“Uh…” She stammers, trying to get a coherent thought through. He’s so close she can see the pores of his face and the soft ridges on his horns. She finds herself wanting to caress them, the thought causing her cheeks to burn. “Terms… right. The spell is making me… making my body act like this?” She whispers cautiously and he nods, encouraging her to continue. “It made these… weird tattoos show up on my skin… and you can control them?” He nods again, eyes twinkling in amusement. Her nostrils flare in irritation, but she keeps going, realization finally dawning as she approaches the conclusion.

“I… this lust… oh my god…” He tuts, smirking with satisfaction.

“You finally understand?” The growl in his voice makes her eyes flutter shut. With the answer flaring brightly behind her lids, her body opens up in a way it hadn’t before. Her thighs spread until they’re pushing against his knees, her breath leaving her in a rush. She clenches around nothing, thinking about the shape of him under the loincloth and when her eyes snap open again he laughs, deep and sugared.

“You want my body?” She asks through gritted teeth, the slip hanging over her stomach becoming itchy and unbearable. His lashes fall halfway and when his forked tongue darts across his lower lip she whimpers in response.

“Usually you call an incubus because you need relief, but… your scent is maddening and I've barely even touched you…” He purrs, lips dropping down to her jaw.

WIP Whenever/Wednesday!

Okay, so I'm late to Wednesday, but whatever!

I wanted to share something I'm working on while I'm working on my long fic With Stars to Fill My Dream- since the smut is far off, I have been enabled into indulging in an Astarion Incubus one-shot by my lovely friends, and I've been marinating it for the last couple days. All inspired by this beautiful art by @poofroom

It's going to take some heavy lifting on my part, so it will definitely not be a couple-day endeavor since it's currently sitting at 3,987 words and we've barely passed the summoning. That being said, it'll be a long one-shot in an AU of my fic's universe where Ofelia accidentally summons a... you guessed it, incubus! And it's Astarion!

Please enjoy some of this as a teaser since I'm raking myself over the coals trying to make it my best smut work! XOXO 🖤 (Putting it beneath the cut so I don't go to horny jail 🖤)

The curtain flutters away, revealing the silhouette of a man. Except it isn’t a man… As the light illuminates the hard cut of his torso, bat-like wings stretch and unfurl on either side of him, wicked horns curling up and over his silver hair. Red irises glow in the night, trained on her face, a tail swishing behind him. She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t move- her heart pounds, but her body reacts in a way she hadn’t expected. Her skin breaks out in the same feverish sweat that she’d felt before crawling into bed, her stomach aching and her breathing coming in short pants. She chances a glance in the full body mirror across the room, her cheeks flushing red at the uselessness of her night dress. The marks that had started at her neck circle her wrists and close around her thighs like bands. “Am I dreaming?” She asks softly, unable to resist the pull she feels towards him. He takes a step and she tenses, eyes admiring his broad shoulders, ornamental silver bracers covering each forearm. Most of his body is bare, save for the thin piece of satiny fabric and gilded chains covering his hips. Her eyes trace the trail of hair that disappears beneath, down until her breath chokes out of her. Her thighs press together at the hard outline beneath the loincloth, her imagination filling in the gaps- thick, straining, throbbing. Her mouth floods with saliva and she swallows thickly as the steady pulse from earlier begs for attention, her shame dissolving as his crimson gaze flows down over her exposed breasts. The sudden urge to touch him fills her mind until it’s all she can think about, even as he opens his mouth to expose sharp canines. “I’m afraid not.” His voice, smooth and velvety, covers her body like honey- sticky sweet. She shivers as he takes another step, so close now that she can see the sharp tips of his ears beneath his hair. His lips curl into a fiendish grin and she shakes her head, wanting him closer, god, she can’t take the distance anymore. Her mind roars with a desire hotter than anything she’d ever felt- wanting more than anything she’s ever wanted before. It drowns the real her out, save for a single line of curiosity. “What are you?”

I'm specifically tagging you three first because you're enablers, but I'm tagging the rest, no pressure! 🖤 @preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @ladyduellist @khywren @bhaalsdeepbat @elinorbard

And if I didn't tag you, know that I love you and I'm the world's most forgetful person!

(Teaser) Chapter 4: Behind a Broken Frame

Hi everyone!! Here's a teaser for tomorrow's chapter of With Stars to Fill My Dream 🖤 (and another screenshot of my girl)

“Damnable roach. Provoke the blade,” He punctuates his words with a stab as the goblin falls limp. “And suffer its sting.” He shoves the goblin’s body down into the fray, setting off the powder keg that leads into a full skirmish in front of the gate. “That was pretty cool,” Ofelia whistles and Astarion rolls his eyes. “Please. With an entrance like that, he’s sure to get himself killed. All those showy types usually do,” She stares at him incredulously, either in disagreement or for some other reason. As she begins to rise, Astarion grabs her arm, keeping her in place. “What are you doing?” He hisses. “We’ve obviously got to help them! They’re clearly outnumbered- we can help balance the fight a little.” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t stand a chance against half of those enemies, least of all the bugbear, and I’d rather not drag around dead weight while trying to stay alive.” She flinches and jerks her arm away from him before narrowing her eyes. Great. “I did just fine on the nautiloid, thank you very much. I have a crossbow, I’ll hang back-” “And what? Let Lae’zel take an arrow for you? Shadowheart? The wizard?” At his words, her eyes flare in anger and he instinctively leans back, somewhat pleased he’d drawn such a reaction out of her. Before she’s able to speak, Lae’zel cuts her off. “The teeth-lings before mentioned seeing githyanki. This appears to be their encampment- let us do battle and get inside. I would like to question them.” Lae’zel stands, forcing them to join the fray as they’ve now been spotted by the man above the gate. “Get behind me, Ofelia,” Shadowheart motions slightly and Ofelia nods, shooting a look of distaste at Astarion. He scoffs and turns away, focusing on the battlefield as he creeps up the hill and backstabs a goblin archer on the rocky outcropping above them. Lae’zel takes the bugbear by surprise, her sword catching against its right flank just as it’s about to bring its club down on the adventurer group’s ranged attacker. It bellows in pain as it whirls on her, and Shadowheart utters the incantation for Shield of Faith to help lessen the impact of its weapon against Lae’zel’s sword. As Astarion’s eyes track the impromptu battlefield, searching for his next target, he sees Gale send a puddle of acid off towards the warg and cold realization dawns over him. Ofelia isn’t anywhere- not behind Shadowheart, like the cleric had instructed, nor beside Gale or near Lae’zel. Where could she have gone? Idiot. “You gonna take out that goblin or what?” He nearly jumps out of his skin at the soft voice in his ear, turning to see her eyes flare with satisfaction. “What in the hells are you doing up here?” He whisper-shouts, watching her lean back. “I figured I'd be better off trying to take some potshots from up high. I’ll die if any of those things try to stab me.” Her voice is steady, but her gaze darts around the clashing weapons and cries below with an undercurrent of wariness. “I’m better at sneaking around if scaring the shit out of you is a good enough tell.” There’s that smug grin again and he sneers at her, unwilling to yield.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (4) - Behind a Broken Frame

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 5,833

I NEED to get more screenshots, I'm so sorry I'm letting everyone down (and by everyone, I mean me since I know it's not that big of a deal lol).

I am currently working on an incubus Astarion fic in this fic's universe (technically) so if you'd like to not wait ages for smut, I'll have that done soon! Please enjoy this chapter! I'm not the best at combat, but I had fun with it 🖤 Beginning of this one under the cut!

Perhaps Astarion had misjudged her.

Watching her drive a knife into the eye of one of those treasure hunters, a kind of blind rage boiling within, had him looking at her in a new light. Not the shell-shocked, albeit snide girl he thought- all bark and no bite. No, there’s something else… She has secrets, something to hide. He’d like to get to the root and pull all her pretty lies out, his to examine and keep in his back pocket.

The others seem to look to her enough, which is odd considering her unfamiliarity with their world. She possesses a commanding personality, that’s for sure. Her innate charms have unexpectedly worked on him a few times. But only a few. She’s snappy and irritable, though last night may have been the exception, asinine jokes aside.

When she’d answered honestly about being here, it’d been a surprise. He expected her to whine and cry about how life wasn’t fair and that she didn’t deserve this. Instead, she looked him in the eye and had been honest with him. Then she flipped the conversation on its head by teasing him. Infuriating woman.

Astarion wonders how she’s got any strength… It's odd. Being plucked out of Baldur’s Gate, infected with the parasite, and thrown into the wilds has proven almost more than he’s been able to handle. At least he’s vaguely familiar with the Sword Coast enough to know what they can generally expect, but to be deposited in a completely foreign land, with no background or information on where you are? The thought is almost suffocating.

There must be something else, something he’s missing. Any regular person would panic, and perhaps die within hours. Whether it’s resilience or pure luck, he’ll bet on the latter in hopes the same will extend to him.

Morning reblog!!!

I just want to say- THANK YOU!!! To everyone!!! I've gotten a lot of love on this fic so far, more than I ever thought I would, and I appreciate you all so much. ❤️❤️ Waking up to AO3 email notifications literally MADE my day and I am eternally grateful. ❤️

With Stars to Fill My Dream (4) - Behind a Broken Frame

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 5,833

I NEED to get more screenshots, I'm so sorry I'm letting everyone down (and by everyone, I mean me since I know it's not that big of a deal lol).

I am currently working on an incubus Astarion fic in this fic's universe (technically) so if you'd like to not wait ages for smut, I'll have that done soon! Please enjoy this chapter! I'm not the best at combat, but I had fun with it 🖤 Beginning of this one under the cut!

Perhaps Astarion had misjudged her.

Watching her drive a knife into the eye of one of those treasure hunters, a kind of blind rage boiling within, had him looking at her in a new light. Not the shell-shocked, albeit snide girl he thought- all bark and no bite. No, there’s something else… She has secrets, something to hide. He’d like to get to the root and pull all her pretty lies out, his to examine and keep in his back pocket.

The others seem to look to her enough, which is odd considering her unfamiliarity with their world. She possesses a commanding personality, that’s for sure. Her innate charms have unexpectedly worked on him a few times. But only a few. She’s snappy and irritable, though last night may have been the exception, asinine jokes aside.

When she’d answered honestly about being here, it’d been a surprise. He expected her to whine and cry about how life wasn’t fair and that she didn’t deserve this. Instead, she looked him in the eye and had been honest with him. Then she flipped the conversation on its head by teasing him. Infuriating woman.

Astarion wonders how she’s got any strength… It's odd. Being plucked out of Baldur’s Gate, infected with the parasite, and thrown into the wilds has proven almost more than he’s been able to handle. At least he’s vaguely familiar with the Sword Coast enough to know what they can generally expect, but to be deposited in a completely foreign land, with no background or information on where you are? The thought is almost suffocating.

There must be something else, something he’s missing. Any regular person would panic, and perhaps die within hours. Whether it’s resilience or pure luck, he’ll bet on the latter in hopes the same will extend to him.

What Am I Supposed to Do (But Sink My Teeth in You?)

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 6.7k tags/warnings: shameless smut, piv sex, fingering, pwp, sex pollen, established relationship, multiple orgasms, minor spoilers for Act 3 ──────── summary: It takes no more than fifteen seconds for Astarion to pick the lock, dexterous hands finessing the pins into place with unmatched ease. Ysera's too busy focusing on his fingers to hear it click before the door swings open, preoccupied with how those same precise movements have taken her apart beneath him time and time again. And how badly she wants to experience them now. ────────────────────────────── In the heat of battle, Ysera unknowingly casts an aphrodisiac spell on herself. With her resolve waning, Astarion is more than happy to let her whisk him away. AO3 ┊ masterlist

“You think that's the last of ‘em?”

Karlach lifts the heft of her greataxe over her head and rolls her shoulders. Gale is busy smoothing out his robes, and Astarion is wrenching his arrows out of several of the Bhaalist cultists he felled, tucking the good ones away for future use. 

It feels wrong to leave the bodies out in the open, but there's nowhere here to hide them. The commotion had driven the would-be onlookers away, but now it's only a matter of time before Gortash’s Steel Watch descends upon them. It's better to avoid any potential conflict if they can, even if they have declared one another temporary allies.

“Probably not,” Ysera groans, turning her eyes away from the carnage. Her magic had taken its toll on their assailants, ripping and tearing and burning through them with a ferocity that had surprised even her. 

The last week has been… a lot, if she's honest. Between the revelation of the Emperor's true identity to the quakes that have shaken the city – not to mention the small army of bloodthirsty minions Orin has sent to slaughter them – it's more than any of them bargained for. A thousand smaller fires popping up everywhere and running them ragged.

It would have been difficult enough if those were the extent of their troubles. Ever since they reached the city, Ysera's magic has been increasingly erratic and unpredictable, and the incinerated corpses at her feet are only a single instance of the destruction she has unleashed. 

Her blood always runs hot with adrenaline after a battle, but now… she feels even more strange than normal, a wave of delicious heat snaking its way through her body and curling low in her belly. She bites her lip and glances among her companions, grateful none of them seem to have heard the quiet moan that has just slipped past her lips.

Instead, they're looking at Astarion, who has already taken a stance with his arms crossed over his broad chest, expression twisted into a grimace.

“Honestly,” he gripes, scoffing. “You leave the city for five minutes and everything goes straight to shit. What’s next? Ghosts? Hoards of the undead?”

Gale's saying something now, finger in the air as he nods sagely, but Ysera hears none of it. When Astarion glances in her direction, the way his eyes widen before narrowing in silent acknowledgement sends another intense wave of pleasure through her, and her heartbeat quickens under his scrutiny.

Has he always been this handsome? Her gaze sweeps over his face, admiring the way his ivory skin almost seems to glow as the sun makes its descent below the horizon and the deep, shifting reds of his eyes that draw her in like a moth to a flame. His muscles flex beneath his armor as he steps forward, and she sucks in a breath when his scent reaches her. The heat has moved to her face, but it's more than embarrassment that's coloring her cheeks.

“ – okay?”

“Huh?” Ysera reluctantly looks from Astarion to Gale, whose brow is furrowed in concern.

“I asked if you were okay. Forgive me, but you appear to me to be quite feverish. I have just the remedy for that back at the Elfsong,” he says, flashing her a broad smile. “A delicious herbal tea that’ll have you feeling right as rain in no time flat.”

“I – I'm fine,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “It's probably just the heat.” Ysera catches a glimpse of Astarion's face on the edge of her periphery, his expression anything but convinced. She's certain he can already scent her growing arousal, despite the way she's got her legs pressed tightly together beneath her robes.

Even if she doesn't know exactly what's causing her current predicament, she does know one thing: she needs to be alone, or at least somewhere else with no one but Astarion. Already her mind is becoming hazy, her only dominant thoughts of Astarion and Astarion alone.

Bare-chested. Hair unkempt as it falls over his eyes. The way his fangs gleam in the light before he pulls her close and pierces her eager flesh. The way only she has seen him.

Her mouth is dry, tongue like sandpaper as she swallows thickly.

“You two should go on ahead,” she suggests, the inflection of her voice surprisingly steady. “There's something else I want to show Astarion before we head back.” If she avoids Astarion's discerning gaze, she can almost pretend it's nothing but an innocent request.

Karlach seems suspicious and lifts an inquisitive brow, but she shrugs and says nothing. Ysera silently thanks her for her compliance.

“If you're certain,” Gale says. His eyes flit to Astarion, who nods despite the worry clearly etched across the wizard's face. “I'll steep a kettle for you just in case.”

“Don't be late for supper,” Karlach says over her shoulder as she and Gale turn to leave, “Or I'm eating your portion again!”

“It was one time,” Ysera whines, heaving a heavy sigh.

The moment they're out of sight, she grabs Astarion by the wrist. He sputters in surprise at her sudden urgency but lets himself be pulled down a series of narrow side streets, before they slip into the first alleyway they find. Thankfully, they're alone, attracting only the occasional glance from people passing by.

“Are you going to tell me what the hells this is all about?” Astarion demands as Ysera slumps against the wall. She runs a hand over her face. Gale was right; she's feverish and unsteady on her own two feet, relying on the wall to keep her upright. The stones feel cool against her back, a momentary but welcome distraction.

“I don't know,” she says piteously, biting back a whimper as the friction of pressing her thighs together becomes suddenly unbearable. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Like what?” Astarion presses. Instinctively, he stands between Ysera and the mouth of the alleyway, keeping her hidden from view. She looks a mess, hair falling out of the ribbon she usually ties it back with, eyes half-lidded and mouth open slightly as she stares at him with what he can only describe as desperation in her eyes.

“Like if you don't touch me, I'll go mad.”

Perhaps she already has.

Astarion tentatively reaches out towards her, intending to take her face in his hands, but Ysera recoils from him instantly. Hurt flickers in his eyes, masked quickly by confusion.

“I don't understand,” Astarion says. “Did you not just tell me that you wanted me to touch you?”

“I know,” Ysera replies, fixing him with an apologetic look. “But it's not fair to burden you with this. It's my problem to solve. If I could just find somewhere quiet, I could take care of this myself, I could just –”

Her rambling thoughts come to a screeching halt when Astarion lays his hand firmly on her shoulder. She instinctively leans into the touch, sighing softly. The roaring inferno inside her body is contained, but not completely extinguished. Already she can feel her renewed desire for him pushing away every other insignificant thought that flits even briefly through her mind.

“Don't be stupid,” he mutters, though not unkindly. “If it's your problem, it automatically becomes my problem. That's how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work, right? Do you honestly expect me to just stand by while you suffer right in front of me?”

His concern makes her heart ache for him all the more, his inexperience and uncertainty writ plainly across his face nothing short of endearing.

“I'm not asking you to,” she clarifies, mouth pressed into a firm line. She takes a deep, bracing breath, wringing her hands in her lap as she sits on a discarded wooden crate. “I just don't want you to feel obligated to do this, even for my sake. We don't even know what this is, or that anything you could do would help.”

Astarion's gaze softens. Of course she would put him first, even now. He looks at her with nothing but affection playing across his features, glad she isn't watching when he smiles despite himself. If it was anyone else, he knows he would be far less forgiving.

But he will always make an exception for her.

“Ysera, look at me.”  She shudders when his fingers slip beneath her chin, beckoning her to lift her gaze. The sound of her name sounds so lovely on his tongue, saccharine and sweet as honey, and with grim determination, she obeys.

Shadows have long since flooded the alley as the moon begins to rise overhead, but from this distance Ysera can easily make out every detail of his face. He looks resolute as he finally gathers her face in his palms, smoothing the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“I'm not offering to do anything I don't already want to do. You have my word.”

His tone brokers no room for rebuttal.

Ysera pushes herself to her feet, her restraint waning. “Good,” she says, “because I don't know how much longer I’m going to last if you keep looking at me like that.”

Astarion huffs a laugh, threading their fingers together. He knows that just the contact of his bare skin is enough to overstimulate her, but neither of them trusts her feet to lead her without guidance. Ysera holds his hand tightly, following him out of the alley and into the winding back streets of the Lower City. She keeps her head down, focused only on putting one foot in front of the other.

Desire ripples through her every time Astarion tightens his grip to pull her around another corner, and she finds it nearly impossible to contain the moans and whimpers that make it past her lips.

Astarion finds what he's looking for before long, a small flat tucked away on a dimly lit street. The windows are boarded, and the door is secured behind an impressive looking lock – in short, the exact kind of place where no one will disturb them.

When the coast is clear, he releases Ysera's hand, retrieving the set of lockpicks he always keeps stowed away in his pocket. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for Astarion to pick the lock, dextrous hands finessing the pins into place with unmatched ease. Ysera's too busy focusing on his fingers to hear it click before the door swings open, preoccupied with how those same precise movements have taken her apart beneath him time and time again. And how badly she wants to experience them now. When he takes her by the hand and pulls her inside the tiny space, the renewed sensation of his cool, marble skin against her own searing heat drags a guttural moan from somewhere deep in her chest. She laughs breathlessly, drunk on her own arousal, and follows him inside.

A cursory glance confirms what Astarion already knew: the place is unoccupied. It's a good thing too, because she'd likely tell him to take her in the nearby alley otherwise, and he's not convinced Ysera has enough forethought to be quiet enough for that anymore.

Normally, he wouldn't care about the impropriety – he's guilty of far worse, after all – but this situation is far from normal. She is his – the first person he could truly call his own – and he will share neither her nor her pleasure with anyone.

Ysera's back hits the door as Astarion advances on her. He wastes no time before burying his face into the crook of her neck, featherlight kisses pressed into the smooth scars there as he inhales the scent of her hair. Ysera moans again and arches her back. Her hands fly into his hair, caressing the sensitive points of his ears.

A shuddering groan rumbles in his throat, bottom lip caught between his teeth. She repeats the motion, and his hips buck against her, a flash of white-hot arousal setting his nerves alight. 

Oh, she is dangerous when she wants to be.

With their bodies flush against one another, he can feel the way her body trembles at even the slightest touch, the symphony of the Weave in her veins. Her magic roars into a crescendo, threatening to overtake them both, but Astarion slips his hands into hers again, entwining their fingers at either side of her head.

His tadpole reaches out, connecting them together. The link comes so easy now, so effortless in the way that everything has become with her.

I am not afraid, he tells her. I'm right here with you. My heart, my love.

Pride surges within him as he feels the tension in Ysera's body ebb away beneath his tender affirmations. She finds his eyes when he lifts his head to look at her, the softness of his gaze a testimony to his devotion. She rests her forehead against his brow, his scent more calming now that she's beneath him, but no less alluring.

Bergamot. Rosemary. Brandy.

The scent of home, the truest one she's ever known.

I love you, she tells him.

She gives his hands a squeeze and releases a breath. Her mind conveys the words her mouth can't seem to form.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

When the racing of her heart has grown less frantic, Astarion dips his head low again and deliberately drags his fangs across the column of her neck and the soft curves of her jaw, and she whimpers with need before he captures her mouth in a bruising kiss. It drives him mad, how eager she is to taste him, lips parting as their tongues meet between panting breaths. 

All it takes is a light press of his palms against the backs of her thighs for her to know what he wants, letting him hoist her up so she can latch her legs around the small of his back. With her arms thrown over his shoulders for extra support, Astarion spins her around without breaking the kiss, carrying her partway across the room.

In a stunning moment of clarity, Ysera's eyes fly open, and she reluctantly tears her mouth away from his fevered kisses.

“Wait. We shouldn't – this is someone's home, isn't it? We can't just…”

She's panting now, fighting every instinct in her body that calls out to him. He can see it in her eyes, pupils blown wide, hair spilling in loose, disheveled waves over her shoulders. Her grip on him tightens, and Astarion watches with rapt attention the moment she feels the ridge of his hardening cock brush against her backside.

Even when her mind is so addled with lust she can barely think straight, she still has the presence of mind to worry about the morality of what they're doing. It's so very like her that he can't help but laugh.

“Relax, my love,” he reassures her, pressing a series of indulgent kisses across her face. But instead of leashing her desire for him, it merely fans the conflagration blazing inside her.

“Take a look around; whoever lives here clearly hasn't been home in quite some time. They won't even know we were here.”

He's right, of course. Aside from the neglected furniture, the most abundant thing in the room is the thick coat of dust that covers every surface within view. 

When he sees she's satisfied, Astarion carries Ysera the rest of the way across the tiny living space, depositing her on the oak writing desk in the corner of the room. He nestles himself between her spread legs, and the slow drag of his cock against her clothed core makes her tremble so much she accidentally knocks an old inkpot off the desk, where it shatters on the stone floor.

She pouts at him disapprovingly.

“They will if you keep doing that.”

“Want me to stop?” he asks, already leaning in to lavish more attention on her neck while his hands slip beneath her robes, searching for the swell of her breasts.

Ysera's breath hitches when his hands touch her bare skin, and she throws her head back with a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

A wolfish grin finds its way to Astarion's lips.

“I didn't think so.”

With her robes pushed open, the fabric falls down over her shoulders, exposing her collarbones and the tops of her breasts beneath her brassiere. Astarion palms at them beneath the cotton fabric, lips pressed against her throat as Ysera arches her back into his touch. He loses his resolve the moment he feels her nipples stiffen beneath his fingers, nearly tearing the garment off of her in his haste to enjoy her properly.

Ysera's breasts settle warm and heavy in Astarion's hands, and when he sweeps across her nipples and pinches the taut buds between his thumbs and forefingers, she cries out and rolls her hips against him. Her legs shake on either side of him, an indication that she's already close to coming undone for him. He had intended to take his time with her, but it seems as if whatever has taken hold of her has other plans in mind.

“Not just yet, my sweet,” he drawls, drinking in the delicious little noises she makes for him as he kisses her deeply. “We've only just begun.”

Ysera whines in protest when Astarion pulls away from her kiss-swollen lips, leaving her breathless and panting. But when Astarion sinks to his knees on the stone before her, she sucks in a breath, enraptured by the sight of him between her thighs. She's already kicked off her boots by the time Astarion slips his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants, and as she lifts her hips off the desk, one good tug pulls them down past her knees along with her underwear.

With the rest of her clothing quickly discarded, Astarion pushes Ysera's legs apart, greedily taking in the sight of her naked body. Her sun-kissed skin looks absolutely stunning, her slick core quivering as she stares down at him through her lashes.

Ysera leans back against the smooth wood grain, propping herself up on her elbows. The conflagration within her is all-consuming, her need for him encompassing every fiber of her being.

“Astarion…”

“Yes, my dear?” Astarion runs his tongue over the tips of his fangs, balancing her legs over his shoulders as he presses a series of slow, teasing kisses along the expanse of her thighs. Ysera whimpers and squirms beneath him, her arousal pooling onto the oak desk beneath her. She grasps blindly at the shelves behind her, gripping them so tightly the wood nearly splinters.

“What is it?”

“Please,” she begs, holding her breath as Astarion moves ever closer to the place she needs him most. “Make me come.”

A low, gravely chuckle rumbles in Astarion's throat.

“With pleasure.”

He's surprised she doesn't unravel the moment he presses his nose against her clit and drags his tongue through her slick folds, even as the feel of his mouth on her punches a long, languid moan from her. Ysera's entire body tenses as she squeezes her eyes shut, only for them to open moments later when his lips wrap around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. He sucks gently and alternates the pressure of his lips, employing decades of practice and the intimate knowledge he has of her body to make her instantly delirious.

The oak desk groans as Ysera fights against her body, hips undulating as she struggles not to write too much beneath Astarion's mouth. His hands glide over her waist, holding her in place as he feasts on her, groaning when her cunt clenches around nothing. He'd normally have a sly remark prepared for just such an occasion, but the taste of her is too intoxicating, and he's loathe to stop pleasuring her for even the short moment it would take to tell her how much he's enjoying the way she murmurs and whines and begs for more.

He revels in bringing her this uncontested pleasure, safe in the knowledge that no one has ever made her feel so whole, so complete. His eyes rise to meet her own, so dark with lust that the rich gold of her irises has become like molten honey. She watches him with rapt attention, committing the moment to memory as best she can.

With several quick flicks of his tongue, Astarion brings Ysera to the very precipice of her climax, fingers curling into the soft flesh around her hip bones as his name tumbles from her mouth like a mantra. But before she can find her release, he purposely pulls away, much to her dismay. She knows what he intends to do, to draw out and intensify her pleasure, but tonight she lacks the patience required to be teased so cruelly.

Ysera locks her ankles around his shoulders and coaxes him back against her, groaning in relief when Astarion resumes his exploration. Nose pressed firmly against her clit, he slips his tongue inside her, a slow, torturous drag that leaves her gasping around her broken cries of pleasure.

“Please,” she begs again, head thrown back as an intense wave of ecstasy builds within her. “It's so good, you're so good, Astarion, Astarion –”

She's so close now, babbling incoherently as every swipe of his tongue unravels the final threads holding her together. She grinds her hips against Astarion’s face, losing herself in the feel of him against her flushed and oversensitive core.

“That's right, love,” he growls against her, “let go. I've got you.” He thrusts his tongue deep inside her, pressing into the spot that drives her past the point of no return.

With a ragged cry, Ysera comes undone, back bowing off the desk as she rides the cresting wave that crashes over her with such ferocity that she almost loses complete control over her body. The wood beneath her hands collapses, the desk ruined beyond repair as Astarion guides her through her climax with gentle but persistent licks of his tongue. She tastes divine, and his cock strains itself against his laces, eager to be inside her.

When Ysera finally comes down from her high, Astarion rises to his feet, face still slick with her arousal. Her chest heaves with each gasping breath she takes, vision hazy as his face floats into her field of view.

“It seems you don't know your own strength, darling,” he teases her, a lopsided grin plastered across his features as he surveys what's left of the old desk.

“‘S… your fault…” she mutters between breaths, absolving herself of whatever meager guilt she feels about it. Truth be told, she stopped caring the moment his mouth dipped between her thighs.

Astarion fixes her with an affectionate look, gathering her into his arms and letting her wrap her legs around his waist. “You're still burning up, darling,” he murmurs, nestling his face again in the crook of her neck. The coolness of his skin is less intense than before, but the heat simmering in her core hasn't abated entirely. She clings to him, fingers carding through his soft curls as he kisses her flushed skin, chasing the thrum of her pulse through her veins.

“It's not that bad,” she assures him. “Not like before. But I still…”

“Hmm?” he prompts, dragging his nose along her neck and nipping gently at her earlobe. “Tell me what you need.” Palms splayed across her back, he caresses the curve of her spine, tracing idle patterns over her sweat-slicked skin.

Her voice is hoarse, raw from overuse, and she swallows thickly. “I want…” Ysera hesitates before correcting herself, “need – need you. Inside.”

“Oh, love.” Astarion's lips are impossibly gentle as he kisses her, soft and slow, letting her taste herself on his tongue. The sweetness of her arousal mingles with the salt of her sweat, a heady ambrosia that stokes the sleeping embers within her back to life.

“Let me make it better, sweet girl.”

Astarion lifts her back into his arms and carries her the short distance to the bed, laying her gently on the duvet. The mattress is surprisingly soft, and Ysera sinks into the sheets. Astarion peels his armor off, discarding it in a heap at his feet. Ysera watches him with bated breath, and he pauses halfway through undoing the laces of his trousers to huff a quiet laugh at the way her reverent eyes watch his every move.

He might as well put on a little show for her while he has her undivided attention. 

Astarion slides a hand over the sculpted muscles along his lower abdomen, fingers dripping just beneath the waistband of his pants. His eyes narrow, trained on Ysera's face as he takes his time undressing.

“Do you see,” he groans, hissing as the waistband of his pants and underwear brush over the weeping tip of his cock, “what you do to me? How badly I ache for you?” A fat bead of precome glides down the length of him, inciting her growing hunger. Saliva pools on her tongue, and she bites back a whimper as another wave of pleasure surges through her.

“Show me,” she says softly, a quiet, desperate plea. “Come and take your pleasure.”

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Astarion steps forward, catching the single beam of milky moonlight that spills in through the old planks nailed over the front windows. And just for a moment, Ysera almost forgets to breathe.

“How do you want me?” he asks, kneeling on the mattress at her feet. Ysera twists around, tucking a pillow below her stomach as she arches her back and spreads her legs wide. From this angle, Astarion can clearly see how eager she is to take him, thighs wet with the slick that drips obscenely from her waiting cunt.

“Hard,” she groans through gritted teeth. Her tail winds itself around his thigh, spaded tip twitching in anticipation. “Hard and deep.”

The husky growl in her voice sends a bolt of arousal straight through him, and Astarion's cock twitches with renewed interest. He strokes himself several times, stretching the soft foreskin over the swollen tip, a breathy, “A-ahh” slipping past his lips as the cool evening air caresses the arousal gathered there.

With one hand braced on the ample curve of her ass, Astarion guides himself forward, the blunt head of his cock barely slipping inside her before she moans and whines and rolls her hips against him. He pushes deeper, sheathing himself within her velvet heat, and although her body accommodates him with little resistance, she is still so fucking tight.

A low, satisfied groan builds in her throat, face pressed into the mattress as she adjusts to the fullness of him inside her. No matter how many times they've done this, each time feels like their first all over again, the delicious stretch of him as he fills her sending ripples of the sweetest pleasure coursing through her body.

“Fuck, Ysera,” Astarion groans, testing the feel of her with a few slow, shallow thrusts. Her walls pulse around him, encouraging him to fuck her harder, faster, just the way she wants.

And so he does.

Astarion snaps his hips forward, driving into her soaking cunt with every thrust, bottoming out each time he collides with the backs of her thighs. Ysera claws at the sheets, a string of oaths falling from her lips before she all but screams his name.

“That's my good girl,” Astarion praises her. “You're taking me so well, aren't you? Is this what you needed?”

Ysera fights to keep herself upright, her legs nearly buckling as he fucks into her hard and fast. He feels so good, so good, he's fucking her so good and she's already so close –

The hands anchored on her hips slowly slide up her back, fanning out over her shoulders before Astarion sinks them into the rosy pink waves of her hair. She lets out a choked sob when he wraps his hands around the base of her horns, holding her head aloft as he uses the extra leverage to find the sensitive spot deep inside her that makes her vision go white.

“Oh gods,” Ysera whines, her movements sluggish and clumsy as she shoves a hand between her legs and searches desperately for her clit. Astarion feels her fingers as they brush against the underside of his cock, and when she finally finds what she's looking for, it's only a matter of time before he makes her shatter.

“Come on my cock, Ysera,” he growls, primal and low. “Show me how good it feels. You can do that for me, can't you?”

“Yes,” she sobs, fingers rolling uncoordinated circles around her aching clit. “Yes, Astarion, yes…”

The pressure in her core is immense, a coiled spring waiting to snap, and when it finally becomes too much to bear, she loses herself completely, coming hard around him even as he refuses to slow his brutal pace. Astarion fucks her through her second climax, rolling his hips to push himself as deep as he can while her toes curl and she collapses, boneless, beneath him.

It's a miracle he doesn't tumble over the edge after her, her slick walls pulsing rhythmically with her racing heartbeat. His body fights him every step of the way, but he withdraws from her completely, and she whimpers in protest at the loss of him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, helping Ysera onto her back when she no longer has the strength to do so herself. “It's all right, love.”

Ysera's eyes are half-hooded and drowsy, and she struggles to look at him. The gnawing hunger she's felt for him ever since the battle seems to finally have been sated, and even though her body is utterly exhausted, it's her mind that has regained some sense of clarity.

“Astarion,” she calls out to him, reaching for his hands in the darkness. Astarion takes hers in his own, bringing her fingers to his mouth to press a series of tender kisses against the soft skin between her knuckles. 

“Yes, darling?”

“What about you?”

He purposely hadn't finished, preoccupied with making certain she was satisfied before chasing his own pleasure, despite what she had instructed him to do earlier. Ysera frowns when he shakes his head, turning her face away when he bends down to kiss her.

“You deserve to feel good too,” she murmurs, and although she's quiet Astarion can hear the stubborn insistence in her voice. 

“Is that what you want?”

“I want you to enjoy yourself,” she clarifies. The intensity of her gaze would have brought a flush to his cheeks were such a thing possible, and he lets out a resigned laugh.

“If you're certain.”

Ysera scrunches her nose and rolls her eyes, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a kiss. Astarion's mouth falls open when her tongue runs across the seam of his mouth, and he lets her kiss him for as long as she wants, savoring the way he sighs contentedly against her.

“You're still worried about me,” she realizes, gazing up into the rich, wine-dark reds of his eyes. His expression softens with something like guilt, concern clearly visible across his features.

“Can you blame me?” Astarion asks, cupping her jaw with one hand as he bends down to kiss her again. “You didn't see yourself the way I did.”

“Whatever it was, it's gone,” she reassures him. “I'm fine, I promise. But that doesn't mean you have to stop… not if you don't want to.”

When Astarion sits up, his eyes travel down the length of his body. His cock has grown soft already, even though he still feels a lingering urge to bury himself inside her once more.

“Ah…” he says sheepishly, “about that.”

Ysera's gaze follows the same path, and she flashes him a wicked grin.

“Let me take care of that for you, darling.”

She takes his soft cock in her hand, working him back to full hardness as she strokes the full length of him. Astarion's cock swells beneath her eager fingers, filling her palm, and he tips his head back and releases a languid moan when Ysera's thumb brushes over his tip. 

“Better?” she asks, already knowing the answer. But she wants to hear it from him anyway.

“Yes,” Astarion groans, pushing her legs apart with his knee and settling between them. He flashes her a sly grin of his own. “You're absolutely insatiable, you know.”

“What can I say?” Ysera laughs, giddy and still a bit fuck-drunk. “I'm a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Oh?” Astarion purrs, lifting her leg beneath the knee and spreading her open. His cock is fully hard by the time he slides it through Ysera's still-slick folds, teasing but not breaching her entrance. “And what, pray tell, is that exactly?”

“You,” she says without hesitation, pulling him down for another passionate, breathless kiss. “Always you. Only you. For as long as you'll have me, I'm yours.”

Astarion groans in satisfaction as he slips back inside her warm, waiting cunt, dragging his cock against her walls as he fucks into her slow and deep, savoring the feel of her around him.

“Forever,” he promises, rolling his hips into her and drinking in her soft, breathy moans. “Forever. You have brought me more happiness than I deserve, more than I even thought possible.” He keeps his pace steady, stoking the heat that roars to life within him, taking his time as he slowly builds himself up to his inevitable end. He wants to stay like this forever, enveloped in her warmth, her scent, her touch.

“No,” Ysera protests, her chest rising and falling with each rapid, shallow breath she draws in. “You deserve everything and more, do you hear me? I love you, Astarion. I love you.”

Their eyes meet briefly before Astarion dips his head and murmurs something incoherent against the shell of her ear. The pace of his thrusts quickens, and before she can question him, Ysera hears his voice in her mind, connected through their tadpoles. She sees her face reflected in her mind’s eye, writhing beautifully beneath him, the full force of his emotions flooding into her.

I love you too. My darling. My dearest. 

Gathering her hands in his, Astarion lifts Ysera's arms over her head, splaying her body beneath him and pinning her to the mattress. She whimpers his name and arches her back, unable to hold back her cries of pleasure when he angles his hips to brush repeatedly against her sweet spot.

“Is it good?” she asks, the question tapering into another whimper. That familiar pressure is already building, and she knows she'll tumble over the edge with him when the moment comes.

“Always,” is his swift reply. “I'm almost there… gonna come for you, feels so good…”

Ysera throws her legs around the small of his back, holding him closer. Astarion follows her lead, burying himself deep inside her with rapid, erratic thrusts that quickly begin losing their rhythm.

He won't last much longer, helpless to do anything but follow that tug that pulls him towards the precipice of oblivion.

“Just a little further,” Ysera encourages him, the words muffled against his lips as she leans up to kiss him. “Wanna feel you come…”

Astarion finally lets go, coming with a deep, shuddering groan. He buries himself to the hilt with one last thrust as he empties himself inside her, filling her with his spend as she cries out and swiftly reaches her own peak yet again. Her walls flutter and clench around him, prompting a few last thrusts before he pulls out of her completely once she stills beneath him.

Ysera feels weightless and blissfully numb as Astarion collapses behind her on the bed, sticky with sweat and equally spent. The air inside the flat is warm and damp as she inhales deeply, the scent of roses and bergamot and sex permeating every breath she takes. 

They lay there for a moment as an easy silence falls over them, listening to the quiet sounds of the city outside. After a while, Ysera glances over her shoulder at Astarion, who's only just rolled over onto his side towards her.

“Do you think Karlach will be mad we didn't make it back on time?” she asks with an awkward little laugh.

Astarion's face breaks into a sly grin.

“Hardly. I'm sure she'll be absolutely delighted to help herself to your share of supper again.”

Ysera's head falls heavily onto her pillow, and she hums thoughtfully. “Hmm… you know what?” she concludes. “I think you're right. We're practically doing her a favor by being so late.”

Astarion's arm wraps around Ysera's stomach and he presses his lips against the curve of her spine as he chuckles in agreement. “Exactly, darling. Now come here. I'm not quite ready to let you go just yet.”

He pulls her flush against his body, their legs tangling together over the sheets. Her warmth makes him feel alive in ways he never thought he could again, and the way she scoots back against him and lays her hand over his is only one of half a dozen constant reminders of how lucky he is to have her.

Ysera's eyes feel impossibly heavy. She's in no mood to return to the Elfsong just yet, and Astarion has no intentions of spoiling the moment. Together they drift off, content to enjoy their time together for as long as fate will let them. 

────────────────

Ysera's not certain what wakes her first: the muffled voices outside the flat as the city springs to life, or the singular sunbeam that slowly sweeps across her sleeping face. She squeezes her eyes shut and scrunches her face, rolling over to escape the bright light. When her hand reaches out and connects with something solid, her eyes fly open, and she finds herself face to face with Astarion, still deep in his trance.

He looks to be resting peacefully, his face placid in a way she's so rarely seen before. A slight smile graces the corners of his lips; whatever he's seeing, it must be something pleasurable.

And then it hits her. Morning. It's morning. 

Oops.

Ysera is hesitant to disturb Astarion, but they really shouldn't stay, and not only because they're trespassing. She indulges in the planes of his face for just a while longer, unable to hold back her smile. The serenity suits him in a way none of his sly smirks and devilish grins ever could.

His body is soft and cool as she snuggles against him, tucking her head against his chest.

“Astarion,” she says softly. “Astarion, wake up. You shouldn't have let me sleep so long.”

Astarion's eyes flutter open, and he drapes an arm around her, pulling her close. “You're welcome, darling,” he murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

She grumbles in protest but lets him pull her up for a kiss all the same, his lips satin-soft against her own.

“At this rate, Karlach's going to eat my breakfast too,” she groans, fixing him with a look of distress.

“How unfortunate,” Astarion drawls, dragging his lips over Ysera's jaw, where he presses them against the thrumming vein on her neck. He finds the familiar spot he prefers when feeding, the smoothed-over scars that adorn the soft skin there. “Luckily for me, mine seems to have been delivered directly to me.”

“Oh no you don't,” Ysera huffs, palms flat against his chest as she pushes him away. “Keep those fangs to yourself.”

She rolls to the edge of the bed, Astarion's arm chasing after her in vain. He whines something about her being cruel, how he'll surely starve now that she's denied him his meal.

“I'll be lucky to make it back, even with all my blood,” she says, throwing a pout over her shoulder as she slips back into her clothes. “If I don't get something to eat soon, I think I might actually die.”

Astarion joins her before long, arms encircling her waist from behind as he rests his chin atop the crown of her head between her horns. He sighs into her hair, chuckling softly.

“We can't very well have that, now, can we?”

Ysera slips her hand into his, pulling Astarion towards the door and into the morning light. He follows her happily, basking in the sun's rays as the pleasant warmth seeps into his skin.

“After you, darling.”

Evening reblog!!! 🙌🏼🙌🏼 I love all you peeps who have commented today, I'm gonna reply here shortly I just had the work day from hell is all 😭 Busy busy busy ❤️

With Stars to Fill My Dream (4) - Behind a Broken Frame

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 5,833

I NEED to get more screenshots, I'm so sorry I'm letting everyone down (and by everyone, I mean me since I know it's not that big of a deal lol).

I am currently working on an incubus Astarion fic in this fic's universe (technically) so if you'd like to not wait ages for smut, I'll have that done soon! Please enjoy this chapter! I'm not the best at combat, but I had fun with it 🖤 Beginning of this one under the cut!

Perhaps Astarion had misjudged her.

Watching her drive a knife into the eye of one of those treasure hunters, a kind of blind rage boiling within, had him looking at her in a new light. Not the shell-shocked, albeit snide girl he thought- all bark and no bite. No, there’s something else… She has secrets, something to hide. He’d like to get to the root and pull all her pretty lies out, his to examine and keep in his back pocket.

The others seem to look to her enough, which is odd considering her unfamiliarity with their world. She possesses a commanding personality, that’s for sure. Her innate charms have unexpectedly worked on him a few times. But only a few. She’s snappy and irritable, though last night may have been the exception, asinine jokes aside.

When she’d answered honestly about being here, it’d been a surprise. He expected her to whine and cry about how life wasn’t fair and that she didn’t deserve this. Instead, she looked him in the eye and had been honest with him. Then she flipped the conversation on its head by teasing him. Infuriating woman.

Astarion wonders how she’s got any strength… It's odd. Being plucked out of Baldur’s Gate, infected with the parasite, and thrown into the wilds has proven almost more than he’s been able to handle. At least he’s vaguely familiar with the Sword Coast enough to know what they can generally expect, but to be deposited in a completely foreign land, with no background or information on where you are? The thought is almost suffocating.

There must be something else, something he’s missing. Any regular person would panic, and perhaps die within hours. Whether it’s resilience or pure luck, he’ll bet on the latter in hopes the same will extend to him.

Annnnnd 8k! 🖤 I'm getting closer! This is DEFINITELY going under the cut! 😁

“I see I’m going to have to do all the sweet-talking, pet.” She shudders as one of his hands brushes along her trembling stomach muscles, down to her thigh, before guiding her underwear down and off. She barely registers his comment as she swallows around the saliva flooding her mouth, the urge to taste so intense that it feels like it’s written on her bones. “I… I want you here.” She mumbles, fingers tracing her face, and he laughs. “You want to see… if you can take me… in your pretty mouth…?” He whispers, thumb brushing over her lower lip. She nods, lips parting to suck him in as her body trembles in reaction to his words. His jaw tightens as he watches, her tongue swirling around his warm skin. She hums when his cock twitches, softly bumping her stomach as a quiet sound vibrates in his chest. He watches her a moment more, eyes burning, before he shifts to the side and drags her off the bed, onto the floor. She sits obediently on her knees, closing her eyes as his fingers thread into her hair. His touch is soft, and her cheeks burn as she realizes what he’s doing. He gathers the strands at the back of her head before tugging gently- just the way she likes.  She sighs, opening her eyes to shamelessly stare at him, yearning to lick the pearl of glistening pre-cum off his flushed tip. She flicks her eyes up to his and the desire she sees there lights a fire in her belly that spurs her forward, hands resting over his hips as she sets her sights and dives in. Astarion hisses when she kisses the base of him, bathing him in her attention and affectionate nips. Her thighs shiver as she continues her trail of teasing, his grip on her scalp growing tighter. She flashes him a soft smile before kissing down the weighty length of him, lips parting when she pulls away to watch him leak a silvery strand down to her breasts. She swallows a breathy sound before eagerly lapping it up, her ears ringing from the sharp inhale and throaty groan he gives her as she sucks his swollen tip inside. He fills her entire mouth before she can draw him in further and her cunt clenches with jealousy imagining him pushing inside, on her back, a bruising grip on her hips… Her fantasies play behind her closed lids as she hollows her cheeks and relaxes her jaw to swallow more, moaning lightly as he nudges the back of her throat. Tears form in her eyes as she blinks up at him, her hips restless as he tugs on her hair and pulls out of her mouth before slowly thrusting inside. “Hells…” He whispers, her mind slowly melting the longer he fucks her mouth. Her entire body aches for him, for this pleasure- she squirms and whimpers, letting him guide the pace. He’s considerate of her adjustment period until a glimmering sweat breaks out on his chest and her eyes track a drop as it follows the curve of his pelvic bone. When it meets his shaft a switch flips and she abandons all rational thought for the need to please. She struggles to take him fully, but every time he rocks his hips in and her lips meet his hips he grunts- a gravelly, greedy thing that stokes the heat in her belly until she’s whimpering. He’s making a mess out of her, and she increases the pace until he’s slipping in and out, smearing spit and slick over her chin and down until it drips over her chest. She holds her breasts aloft, thumbs swirling the fluid over her pebbled flesh as waves of pleasure shiver through her.

WIP Whenever/Wednesday!

Okay, so I'm late to Wednesday, but whatever!

I wanted to share something I'm working on while I'm working on my long fic With Stars to Fill My Dream- since the smut is far off, I have been enabled into indulging in an Astarion Incubus one-shot by my lovely friends, and I've been marinating it for the last couple days. All inspired by this beautiful art by @poofroom

It's going to take some heavy lifting on my part, so it will definitely not be a couple-day endeavor since it's currently sitting at 3,987 words and we've barely passed the summoning. That being said, it'll be a long one-shot in an AU of my fic's universe where Ofelia accidentally summons a... you guessed it, incubus! And it's Astarion!

Please enjoy some of this as a teaser since I'm raking myself over the coals trying to make it my best smut work! XOXO 🖤 (Putting it beneath the cut so I don't go to horny jail 🖤)

The curtain flutters away, revealing the silhouette of a man. Except it isn’t a man… As the light illuminates the hard cut of his torso, bat-like wings stretch and unfurl on either side of him, wicked horns curling up and over his silver hair. Red irises glow in the night, trained on her face, a tail swishing behind him. She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t move- her heart pounds, but her body reacts in a way she hadn’t expected. Her skin breaks out in the same feverish sweat that she’d felt before crawling into bed, her stomach aching and her breathing coming in short pants. She chances a glance in the full body mirror across the room, her cheeks flushing red at the uselessness of her night dress. The marks that had started at her neck circle her wrists and close around her thighs like bands. “Am I dreaming?” She asks softly, unable to resist the pull she feels towards him. He takes a step and she tenses, eyes admiring his broad shoulders, ornamental silver bracers covering each forearm. Most of his body is bare, save for the thin piece of satiny fabric and gilded chains covering his hips. Her eyes trace the trail of hair that disappears beneath, down until her breath chokes out of her. Her thighs press together at the hard outline beneath the loincloth, her imagination filling in the gaps- thick, straining, throbbing. Her mouth floods with saliva and she swallows thickly as the steady pulse from earlier begs for attention, her shame dissolving as his crimson gaze flows down over her exposed breasts. The sudden urge to touch him fills her mind until it’s all she can think about, even as he opens his mouth to expose sharp canines. “I’m afraid not.” His voice, smooth and velvety, covers her body like honey- sticky sweet. She shivers as he takes another step, so close now that she can see the sharp tips of his ears beneath his hair. His lips curl into a fiendish grin and she shakes her head, wanting him closer, god, she can’t take the distance anymore. Her mind roars with a desire hotter than anything she’d ever felt- wanting more than anything she’s ever wanted before. It drowns the real her out, save for a single line of curiosity. “What are you?”

I'm specifically tagging you three first because you're enablers, but I'm tagging the rest, no pressure! 🖤 @preciouslittlebhaalbae @inkymoonbunny @verbenaa @ladyduellist @khywren @bhaalsdeepbat @elinorbard

And if I didn't tag you, know that I love you and I'm the world's most forgetful person!

With Stars to Fill My Dream (5) - Close Your Eyes and Hear My Secret

I finally have images!!! Please enjoy them throughout this post!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 6,850

I have some screenshots! Finally! Here are some good ones pertaining to this chapter! 🖤 And thank you for coming! Opening under the cut!

Astarion had found the source of his suspicion at last. He watches Ofelia plead for the girl, her eyes glowing a soft pink. Purple light swirls around her extended fingertips, reaching for Kagha. The man, Rath, watches and doesn’t say a word. He nods to Astarion, however, allowing it if it means sparing the girl. He can tell they’re all afraid to stand up to Kagha, and Ofelia’s the perfect tool to do so. Risky, but effective.

She succeeds, and Astarion sets his jaw. So. She’s been lying about not knowing magic. What else has she been lying about? Being kidnapped? Could she be behind them being tadpoled? What an elaborate ploy, so utterly convincing that he curses himself for not seeing it.

He decides to confront her- perhaps if he gets her to confess, he can use it as leverage to keep himself safe, in the group, guaranteed a spot at the table. Maybe she’ll even let him into whatever she has planned, spare him from his illithid fate. Then he’ll be able to remove Cazador from the equation and… finally be free.

She scrambles, tears springing up in her eyes. He sneers at her in disgust, alarmed at her proficiency in playing this part so well, for turning her sobbing on him, to appeal to him. She’ll not find pity here, or compassion. It’s almost worth it, to see her snide and sour comments and expressions reduced to this- he reduced her to this.

Regretfully, he allows her one small mercy- to be in her head. Here, all of it will be laid bare. It’s better than having her tell him with her words. This way, he’ll get the raw, unfettered truth.

It isn’t what he’d expected, however.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (5) - Close Your Eyes and Hear My Secret

I finally have images!!! Please enjoy them throughout this post!

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 6,850

I have some screenshots! Finally! Here are some good ones pertaining to this chapter! 🖤 And thank you for coming! Opening under the cut!

Astarion had found the source of his suspicion at last. He watches Ofelia plead for the girl, her eyes glowing a soft pink. Purple light swirls around her extended fingertips, reaching for Kagha. The man, Rath, watches and doesn’t say a word. He nods to Astarion, however, allowing it if it means sparing the girl. He can tell they’re all afraid to stand up to Kagha, and Ofelia’s the perfect tool to do so. Risky, but effective.

She succeeds, and Astarion sets his jaw. So. She’s been lying about not knowing magic. What else has she been lying about? Being kidnapped? Could she be behind them being tadpoled? What an elaborate ploy, so utterly convincing that he curses himself for not seeing it.

He decides to confront her- perhaps if he gets her to confess, he can use it as leverage to keep himself safe, in the group, guaranteed a spot at the table. Maybe she’ll even let him into whatever she has planned, spare him from his illithid fate. Then he’ll be able to remove Cazador from the equation and… finally be free.

She scrambles, tears springing up in her eyes. He sneers at her in disgust, alarmed at her proficiency in playing this part so well, for turning her sobbing on him, to appeal to him. She’ll not find pity here, or compassion. It’s almost worth it, to see her snide and sour comments and expressions reduced to this- he reduced her to this.

Regretfully, he allows her one small mercy- to be in her head. Here, all of it will be laid bare. It’s better than having her tell him with her words. This way, he’ll get the raw, unfettered truth.

It isn’t what he’d expected, however.