I Have A Request For Astarion ! What If Reader Is Usually The One Being Seduced By Astarion (because

I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?

Rizz if you will.

It's Called Chivalry, Darling

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.

warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.

a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)

“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction. 

You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger. 

“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded. 

“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare. 

“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.

“Why are you walking so close to me?”

“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.

Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.

You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval. 

The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.

As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you. 

“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow. 

“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again. 

“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.” 

“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.

He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.” 

You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away. 

“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”

“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.

You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not. 

But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out. 

And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade. 

Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.

You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.

In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.

When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him. 

Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe. 

But it doesn’t last long. 

Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?” 

“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"

He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.

“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him. 

“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain. 

Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.

“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.

You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”

This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.

“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.

“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”

"That's exactly right, my dear."

[baby fever ] ft. kageyama tobio

wc: 300

divider from @/cafekitsune

iwaizumi | ushijima | atsumu | osamu | sakusa

“Have you ever thought about having a kid?” 

“A kid?” you echo. 

He nods, the sunset light dyeing his face in an orange-red hue. 

“Tobio,” you laugh lightheartedly. “Is this what you’re thinking so hard about?”

He looks put out by your laugh, the sure signs of a budding Tobio Tantrum. “Yeah.” 

“Tobio, we’re so young! Maybe one day…” 

He nods, but you’ve known him for so long, you notice the slight puff of his cheeks and jut of his bottom lip. 

“Tobio, are you seriously pouting about this?” 

“‘M not pouting. I don’t pout.” he says as he crosses his arms over his chest. Turns his cheek away from you. 

Tobio gets like this with you sometimes. And he always gets over it. So you just laugh his attitude off and continue the walk home with a sullen Tobio toddling behind you. 

It’s only later that night when the two of you are in bed that he broaches the topic again. 

“But the others have them already,” he grumbles against your back. 

“What?” you say, turning around to face him in the darkness. 

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Nope. What did you say?” 

He tucks his chin inward, hiding his face. “Oikawa already has kids. Even stupid Hinata has ‘em.” 

“Tobio,” you sputter in disbelief. “It’s not a contest!” 

“But I’m ready.” he says, blue eyes clear and sure even in the dark. “And I love you. Don’t you?” He looks at you expectantly. 

“I guess I’ve just never thought seriously about it. But… I don’t not want a baby with you.” you offer hesitantly. 

He lights up like a christmas tree. “You mean it?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I love you and…”

He doesn’t let you finish because he’s already all over you, body flipped on top of yours, hands reaching under your shirt, and lips tracing your face. 

“Love you too. Love you so much…” he slurs between kisses. 

And you were going to finish your thought by saying that the two of you need to talk it through thoroughly, preferably when you aren’t drunk with sleep, but his kisses are turning you into mush and now you’re feeling drunk on something else and this one’s a secret, but the image of your pouting Tobio gives you visions of a future baby who pouts exactly like their father.

It's been brought to my attention that certified oral king, Gale Dekarios hasn't received in forever. And you know what, you're so right. There's exactly a zero percent chance that Mystra got on her knees, celestial or otherwise, for this man. Honestly I imagine there's a whole lot that she would do and yet demanded a whole lot of.

( shout out to @daiya-owoda )

(nsfw below)(holy cannoli this got long... apparently I just really want to do this)

Gale would be hesitant when you brought it up. This would definitely be a "conversation first" act, because any time you'd try to reciprocate he'd gently redirect you.

Not for lack of wanting (gods does he want) the idea of your lips wrapped around his cock genuinely breaks him for a few moments. But he's determined to make you feel good, maybe he's still trying to prove he's worth it for you to stick around - no matter how often you assure him that he's everything you want.

The first time he agrees, won over by your pleading to just let you focus on him, it's done in a very uneventful space. The tent late at night when your companions are either asleep or know enough to fake it.

He's anxious enough that you check in once, twice, three times to make sure he really does want this.

He nods, swallowing heavily, eyeing you knelt between his bare spread legs. "Yes, I just don't wish to make you feel as though you have to. I don't expect everything I do to be returned, in fact if you-"

You cut him off with a kiss, leaning back up over him. As much as you love his babbling if he keeps going right now you know you'll find yourself angrier at a goddess than you should while your partner is half naked in front of you.

Half because while you coaxed off his pants and shoes you realized he might feel more comfortable in this moment if the soft velvet tunic was left on.

Your kiss seems to relax him, or distract him. He relaxes back onto his elbows.

You let your kisses trail off down his beard and then tracing the lines of his tattoo until it disappears beneath the embroidered collar. The velvet still smells of old books and sea breezes. You've seen him wash this many times but the scent remains. Probably magic meant to soothe his homesickness.

His hands flutter as you lower yourself between his legs. But whatever nervousness the rest of his body is demonstrating his cock doesn't seem to have gotten the message. He's hard already swollen pink head crowned with a tiny bead.

You brace your hands on his inner thighs, a warning. Before you dart your tongue out to lap at the bead of moisture. It's not really a lap, really you've just pressed your tongue into the slit.

A taste.

Gale hisses hips bucking his cock up against your tongue. As much as you'd love you let him fuck your throat, badly enough that you freeze, eyes glossy as you bring that image to the front of your mind, you know he's not ready for that. He'd feel terrible afterwards if you even managed to convince him you wanted it.

Not yet.

So instead, you pin his hips to the ground using your forearms. And you set to work.

You kiss first. The tip and then down along the shaft, pressing as much of your lips and nose against him as you comfortably can.

He's relatively quiet above you, still propped up on his elbows to watch. You don't watch him though, focused on your self appointed task.

You contemplate his balls when you reach the base. The softest kiss to the skin and his thighs flex around you. A tempting exploration, but again one for another day.

You make your way back up to the tip of his cock.

Now you look up at him as you hover just over.

Gale opens his mouth, probably to reassure you that this isn't expected. But you ignore him and finally take him into your mouth. Not far, not even halfway in.

But it's enough for Gale, who's open lips let out a sound, not quiet a moan... more guttural and deep. He can't hold your gaze and lets his head fall back.

You set to work, gently sucking... taking him further into your mouth each time. By the time your nose is buried in the thick batch of hair at his base Gale is openly moaning. His fingers grasping and releasing the furs of his bedroll beneath you.

Your focus becomes discovering what draws the sounds from him. Your tongue pressed into the slit of his cock is what finally breaks his ability to stay proper up. When you take as much into your mouth as you can, swallowing to keep yourself breathing, he finally (finally) rests a hand on your head. Not in you hair, not pushing, just resting there - grounding himself in you.

"I... you must..." Gale gasps out after a few more minutes. He never makes a full sentence but you know what he's telling you. You could tell he was close just from how hard he'd gotten, how your jaw ached.

"Please" you half whisper pulling off him.

Whatever Gale sees when he lifts his head to regard your request leaves him speechless. He nods instead.

You nearly choke yourself in an effort to swallow him down once more. Hand at his base almost kneading as you suck.

His hand in your hair tightens and a choked moan is all the warning you get before his spilling down your throat. You swallow greedily, eyes squeezed shut, forearms still pinning his hips to the ground.

The hand in your hair tugs, finally pulling you off him. He's breathing heavily, eyes staring at the roof but clearly not seeing.

You sit quietly between his legs, catching a glimpse of yourself in a small mirror he has to one side. Lips puffy and red, corners of your eyes wet from tears, and your hair blessedly mussed from his hands.

"You are the most singularly gorgeous creature," Gale says in reverent awe as he finds you looking at yourself.

too pretty!

featuring : matsukawa issei the loml <3

notes : you're jealous your bf is too pretty

you're aware that your friends are very attractive. 

oikawa's somewhat charming personality easily grabs a girl's attention, iwaizumi's buff figure immediately turns heads whenever he enters a room and makki had this boyish ruggish look that somewhat looks cute to some people. it's normal seeing them being hit on by girls and sometimes it's like a form of entertainment for you.

but your boyfriend on the other hand, now this is new.

you've been together since high school. you've always found issei attractive. he's not a smooth talker like oikawa, but his attentiveness and response when you talk to him makes you feel seen and heard. he doesn't seem as built as iwaizumi at first glance, but underneath those baggy clothes hid something you're glad only you can see and touch. he's not as easy going as makki, but the way he spontaneously shows up at your house at 3 in the morning when you're upset tells you maybe he's easy going when it comes to you. 

so falling in love with him was inevitable because all the things he does with you and only you are attractive. 

but you're not the only one who thinks that anymore. 

see, after your boyfriend figured out his own style that weren't baggy clothes and instead fitted his physique and also found a way to style his usual mess of a bedhead into luscious curls, he suddenly became attractive to everyone around him. 

and it pissed you off. he was always attractive without the sudden change but now its like that's all people see. 

like when you visited oikawa and iwaizumi at the gym and the manager shamelessly flirted with issei the moment you left to greet them. or when you visited makki with him at the cafe he worked at and makki's coworker only paid attention to issei and completely ignored you. or when you were out grocery shopping and left issei for five minutes only to come back to a girl who had the audacity to ask if he was single.

so yeah you're pissed off. and there's only one logical way to fix this.

"what are you doing?" issei asks as you settle down on his lap and ruffle his already done up hair. "baby, i just fixed it."

"i know. i'm ruining it." 

instead of being mad his hair is being messy, he raises an eyebrow instead. "but then we're gonna be late."

"you'll go out like this then." 

he has this amused smile now. "okay, what's up with you?"

"nothing." you said, somewhat proud of your work. "just fixing you up."

"this is the opposite of fixing me up, babe." he took your hands and plants kisses across your palms, then he rests his own hands on your hips. "why are you making me look like i just made out with you? there are other ways to achieve that." 

in another situation you would cave in but you had a mission. "you're too good looking. i'm trynna make you look less good looking."

this time, he laughs. "gee thanks babe. i appreciate the compliment." 

"i'm serious." you pout, though issei just keeps on laughing. "you're too pretty and girls are swooning all over you and you don't even do anything about it."

"whoa what," he stops, eyes locking onto yours. "who's swooning over who now?"

"everyone is all over you. can't you tell?" you huff when you realize his bed head makes him look even more attractive. damn it.

"honestly no." he says simply. "and you're…jealous?"

"i'm not jealous. i'm pissed. there's a difference."

"pretty sure they're the same thing, babe."

you squish his cheeks, framing his face with your hands. "stop being so pretty."

he chuckles and brings his hands up to cover yours. "this is really bothering you, huh?"

"maybe just a tad bit."

"you know i only got eyes on you, right?" he takes your hands off and leans in so you both are nose to nose.

"i've been told so once or twice."

"once or twice?"

"maybe hundreds of times but who's counting."

"and you know im stuck with you forever, right?"

"mhm," you indulge him by wrapping your arms around him, "you better be."

"so there's no reason for you to get all jealous." he says, eyebrows raising up as if an idea popped into his head. "what if you just kiss me if that happens?"

"like stake my claim? what are we, animals?" 

"i mean that's what i've been doing when guys hit on you."

"it is? wait, back up, when has that happened?"

"you're delusional if you think guys don't hit on you."

"they don't!"

"yeah well they don't get the chance to do it properly because my radar is just too good."

"oh my god, you're serious."

"deadass. and lemme tell you, it always works." he says proudly. "i get to turn you into mush and also send a warning to other guys. win-win situation."

"i do not turn to mush."

"really now?" he wiggles his eyebrows. "want a reminder?"

you think you've indulged him quite enough so you flick his forehead instead. he winces. good.

"so you don't mind?" you said, narrowing your eyes playfully. "you don't mind me staking my claim on you next time it happens?

"baby, please, I encourage it." he says, almost too quickly.

you giggle, feeling some sort of satisfaction that your boyfriend is all on board with you staking your claim in front of people. it should make you feel shy or embarrassed but it kind of makes you feel giddy instead. but he doesn't need to know that yet.

tempted to do a pt2 but it's just me reader making out w issei

A Shuffle of Cards

Another shorter one-shot in which Astarion and Tav just waste an evening playing cards and drinking wine and the vampire learns he doesn't know everything about sleight of hand that there is to know - yet.

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You) Rating: Teen (just to be sure)

(Gif from here!)

“How did you-?“ “A lady never tells.” Astarion snorted – you flipped him off. “Well, is it your card or not?”

Astarion groaned in frustration: “Yes, it is.” You grinned at him – equal parts proud of yourself and mischievously happy. Then you turned the card over so you could see which one it was. “Oh, Queen of Hearts – so fitting, don’t you think?”, you said and raised your eyebrows cheekily at the vampire. But he had no capacities for teasing – you must’ve gotten him good.

“Show me again!”, he demanded, his ruby eyes already fully concentrated on your slender hands again, brows furrowed critically. You rolled your eyes at him. “You didn’t get it the last six times I’ve done this, what makes you think this time will be different?” “Just show me again!” You breathed out in annoyance and went to shuffle the deck of cards again.

The two of you had gotten cozy in front of the fireplace in your living room while an autumn storm was roaming outside – right on the cliché fur rug, each seated with crossed legs on a pillow. You had been playing cards and emptying a bottle of red wine (“hm, rich taste with a bouquet of red berries and a hint of almond”, Astarion had said after taking his first sip – to you it tasted like good stuff to get wasted on), when you had suddenly exclaimed: “You wanna see a card trick?”

Astarion had scoffed in arrogance and waved at you sneeringly to go on, expecting child’s play. And now he was sitting there trying to figure out how you managed to get his chosen card right every damn time – for fifteen minutes straight. His hands were pressed to his knees, elbows up, while he leaned to you to watch you shuffle the deck artfully. His gaze basically bored into your fingers.

“Love, there is nothing yet to see.” “Maybe I just like to watch what those sinful fingers can do”, he smirked at you, his eyes moving from your hands to your face and grinning even more broadly. The warm orange light of the fire shone in his eyes and illuminated his face in warm tones. He looked so beautiful right then and there, you almost dropped the cards.

But no! You wouldn’t be distracted by him this time. He already almost got what he wanted from you all the time by working his charms on you because you were so desperately inclined to give him everything that would make him smile at you like this.

You unceremoniously placed the cards on the ground before you and spread them out. “Pick a card”, you said to him in an annoyed tone to demonstrate how much you weren’t affected by him making eyes at you, even though one of his soft white curls had fallen adorably onto his forehead now too.

Astarion pouted at your demeanor: “Not giving me the whole show, my sweet?” You slowly blinked at him not reacting further. “Come now, love, this is the last time, I promise”, he then said pleadingly and stretched out his hand to grab you by the neck and pull you towards him for a quick but sweet kiss.

You sighed in defeat and picked up your cards. “Alright, one last time.” You shuffled the deck once more, making the cards jump from your one hand to the other then spread them out in a neat curve with one swift movement – the space between all cards perfectly balanced. Astarion whistled in astonishment which made you look up at him. He smiled and winked at you and you blushed at him cheering you.

“Sooo, would you honour me with choosing a card, Astarion?” “Oh, I would love nothing more, darling!” He made a show of letting his fingers wander through the air above the cards before settling on a card and elegantly dragging it out. “Now, would you please look at it without showing me which one it is and memorise it well.” The vampire drew the card close to his chest and raised his eyebrows mockingly being overly secretive. He took a peek at his card then threw you a glance to make sure you weren’t trying to watch – you sat there waiting for him to be done with your mouth pressed into a line. “Alright, I memorised it”, Astarion said while keeping the card pressed to his chest, eyebrows still raised at you.

“Well then”, you replied and grabbed the remainder of the deck with another swift movement until you had them all in your hands. Then you split them in half and held them out to the vampire. “Please put your card back in.” He did as he was told while acting being hesitant about it. When he had placed the card down, you put the other half above it.

Astarion’s lips opened in anticipation and his eyes were trained on your hands again – now being completely serious about it.

He wanted a show, so you gave it to him – you artfully split the deck up again in thirds and made them whirl around your fingers with an incredible speed. You knew exactly where his card was at any given moment.

“No, no, no – this isn’t fair, love!”, Astarion exclaimed in desperation and pouted at you again, but you just stuck your tongue out at him and kept shuffling. When the vampire looked positively dizzy from watching your shenanigans you stopped and lifted up the top card with its face to Astarion. “Is this your card?”

His eyes widened in surprise then he angrily snatched the card from your hand with furrowed brows. “Yes”, he grumbled while you broke into laughter. “Which one was it?”, you asked him while you put down the remaining cards. Reluctantly, Astarion showed you the card he was clutching in his fingers. “King of Hearts”, he said still pouting.

“Uuh, what another great coincidence, don’t you think?”, you cooed at him cheerfully and slapped your hands on your knees. Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and kept brooding.

“You know”, you said while pursing your lips “because you certainly are the king of my heart.”

You saw it – you saw the light twitch at the corner of his mouth; you got him. “Just as much as you are the queen of mine, my sweet sweet darling”, he answered dramatically and grabbed his goblet of wine to down the rest of it in one go.

“You are only trying to distract me because you lost the last five rounds of cards”, he offered dryly while he licked a remaining drop of “rich, red berry” red wine of his lips. You watched, being mesmerized by the tiny gesture. “Well, is it working?”, you retorted while you kept watching his lips. Astarion noticed your staring and cocked his head: “Hmm, I don’t know might’ve worked better if your clothes had been off.” He leaned back on his hands and watched the effect of his comment unfold. You tried miserably not to blush – damn, would you ever gain some tiny shred of immunity against his charms?

You coughed and rearranged your sitting position. “I only lost because you keep cheating the entire time”, you threw his way to which he lifted a hand to his chest, so taken aback. “My, what a dire accusation. When have you ever known me to be dishonest, my love?” You threw him a single glance. He kept up his dramatic posture.

“Tell you what, you win the next game fair and square, I’ll show you how the trick works.”

“Deal, sweetheart!”, Astarion agreed happily, picked up the cards and started shuffling and dealing you each a fresh hand of cards.

Tonight no new chapter of my longer fic A Night of Song and Laughter (I honestly need a bit of a break, I lost too much sleep the last two weeks or so). But I still wanted to write something. Hope you enjoyed!

I was wondering if you would be up for writing an Astarion x reader where the reader is fiercly protective of him.

The idea is that it takes place during the scene where Araj tries to pressure him into biting her and the reader just goes off on her, like to the point Astarion has to hold them back. Basically the reader is like "HOW DARE YOU TRY AND PRESSURE HIM TO DO THAT HE SAID NO!!"

Sorry if its all over the place I'm tired at the time of sending this request

ooh, i have such a soft spot for characters being protective and using that premise in relation to the scene with araj? brilliant! hope you enjoy!

also, i've decided to gather all of my prompt fills in an ao3 collection, which you can find here.

all the blood that i would spill (astarion x gender neutral!reader, baldur's gate 3)

Considering her proclivities, the drow’s request shouldn’t come as much of a shock, and yet Astarion’s lip curls in disgusted shock, anyway. He isn’t much of a fan of the way she’s looking at him, either, heavy-lidded with desire while her noxious-smelling blood races through her veins.  

“I assume he belongs to you?” Araj questions, turning her lusting gaze to you. Astarion nearly bares his fangs in offense; he belongs to no one. 

You’re standing close enough that it’s impossible not to notice when your shoulders stiffen. He shoots you a glance and finds your face frozen in confusion, brows high and lips parted in surprise - apparently the drow’s outlandish request has thrown you off your guard as well. 

“Excuse me?” Your words ring with patent disbelief. At your side, your fingers twitch alongside the pommel to your weapon, and Astarion blinks in surprise. You were usually the last in your group to be quick to anger, and yet he can feel the first stirrings of rage beginning to spill through your blood. Interesting. “He’s his own person.”

Astarion’s taken aback by your words, despite having never been treated as anything less in your presence. Still, some part of him had expected you to urge him to fulfill the drow’s request, his own comfort be damned. 

More fool he. 

The drow scoffs, amused. Your fingers edge closer to your blade. “Oh, I’m sure he really believes that,” she murmurs, a contemptuous curl to her lips. Astarion’s skin crawls as she gazes upon him once more, contemplative and sharp, as though studying a bug beneath glass. “How utterly adorable.”

Karlach and Gale exchange glances. They can feel the rising tension in the air as well as Astarion can. The drow seems oblivious to your agitation, however, or ignorant to it. Neither option bodes well for her. 

“Do you have a name, spawn?” 

Astarion narrows his eyes at the drow, nearly spits his answer, “Astarion, but hold on - “

The drow speaks over him, waxing poetic about her desire to be bitten by a vampire, to dance on the edge between life and death. 

“I’ll even compensate you,” she continues, as if she were doing him a favor. 

“I will have to decline,” he returns cheerily, even as his innards bubble with rage. As if he could be bought with a mere potion, of all things. As if he could be bought at all!

The drow’s brows climb. “Excuse me? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re squandering it.”

“I gave you my answer,” Astarion bites out, darkly satisfied when her expression sours. 

Araj huffs, looking to you. “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?” she queries, and before Astarion can interject - in the form of a dagger to her gut, whatever potions she could provide you be damned - you’re stepping closer, your fingers wound tightly around the pommel of your blade. 

“He said no.” Your voice is low, measured. Utterly pleasant, were it not for the rage bubbling underneath. 

Karlach and Gale crowd closer, though whether they’re preparing to halt the incoming fight or aid in it, Astarion can’t be certain. He can only watch, driven to some sort of silent awe as you proceed to stare the impertinent drow down. 

Judging by the shifting expression on her face, Araj has finally begun to sense the faux pas she’s committed, though she doesn’t seem completely resigned yet to the thought of allowing Astarion to slip through her fingers. 

“If you have no need of the potion,” she begins. “Surely there must be some other boon you’d desire. Some price - “

“Enough.” Araj is not the only one to stiffen at the sound of your voice; firm with finality and carrying the faintest hint of a growl within its depths, even Astarion feels his spine straightening at the sound of it. At his back, Karlach gives a low whistle, impressed. “You’ve asked and we’ve answered; let that be the end of it.”

Araj falters. “But - “

The sheen of your blade catches Astarion’s eye. He darts forward before you can unsheath it fully, pale fingers wrapping around yours and mutely shoving the blade back within its sheath.

You catch his gaze, your brows furrowed, but allow him to draw you away from the drow, tossing a deceptively cheery, “We appreciate your help but we really must be going now. Farewell!” over his shoulder.

You’re silent as you match them towards camp, the line of your shoulders tight with tension. Karlach and Gale attempt to clear the air with pointless banter, but Astarion watches you, his anger at the drow’s impertinence leeching away in favor of something far more pleasant. Something sweeter. 

He had never seen someone grow so angry on his behalf. You were seconds away from cleaving that drow in two! And why? Simply because she had insulted him, regarding him as though he were nothing but an object meant to be used? 

It was a novel sensation, to have one’s honor defended so stridently, and by the savior of Faerun, no less! You could have asked him to drink from her - gods help him, he would have felt compelled to - and yet you hadn’t. You had deferred to him, accepted his refusal, and nearly drew blood when the drow had continued to infringe upon his comfort.

Were you truly that valiant? Oh, he was certain you would have defended any of your motley brood if they had been the subject of the drow’s fascination, but would you have grown this angry? This fierce? 

The group disperses as soon as it reaches camp, and yet Astarion continues to keep you under his watchful eye, following you as you divest yourself of your armor and head straight to one of the training dummies set up on the outskirts of camp. 

He takes his time ridding himself of his own armor, a lightness to his steps when he eventually approaches you. You’ve yet to tire from your relentless pummeling of the poor training dummy, and Astarion wonders if what you’re seeing isn’t an amalgamation of wood and straw, but a drow with a loose tongue and contemptuous eyes instead. 

“Give it a rest, darling,” he cajoles you, a curl to his lips as your shoulders jump in surprise. “She’s dead.” 

You give him a look, sweat beading on your brow and the fire in your eyes burning hotter than ever. “I don’t know what you mean,” you mutter, your blade arching through the air and sinking into the dummy with a muted thunk.

Astarion huffs. “Tell me, pet. Would you have skewered her if I hadn’t stopped you?” 

You sigh through your nose, rising from your fighting stance with a conflicted expression upon your face. “I don’t know,” you mutter, before the fire within your eyes blazes to life once more. “She was just so - so arrogant and intrusive and she wouldn’t listen to you - “

“Darling - “ he raises his hands, the gesture enough to calm you from your rising ire. You’re really quite precious when you’re riled up like this. “She wasn’t the first to do so, you know. Nor will she be the last. You needn’t grow so angry on my behalf.”

You shake your head, running a hand across your sweaty brow. “I’m sorry for trying to speak for you. I know you can take care of yourself. I was just - “

“Angry,” Astarion offers, and you huff, a reluctant smile upon your lips.

“Yes. Angry.”

He smiles, then, reaching over to wrest the pommel from your hand. You allow him to do so without protest. You allow him many more liberties than that, he’s starting to realize. “The drow’s words mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. I can’t imagine she’ll feel brave enough to ask again, not with the lasting memory you left her with.”

Your eyes grow dark, a thunderous expression stealing over your face. Despite himself, Astarion feels a spark of satisfaction warm his belly at the sight. 

“Good,” you mutter, and the spark ignites. 

Next time, he muses - if there were such a thing - he would keep his hands to himself, just to see how far you’d go, how precious his honor was to you. 

Truth be told? He’s looking forward to it.