Your New Life Is Going To Cost You Your Old One.

Your new life is going to cost you your old one.

but I don't wanna stop, yeah, I just need to see if your love's the truth or the spirit of deceit

Augustarion Day 3 – Apron (MNDI) 18+

Warnings: Astarion takes care of you. And I mean sexually. Inappropriate use of Mage Hand, Oral Sex (Male receiving), PiV.

Pairing: female reader (You) x Astarion

A/N: I tried to proofread.

Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies

You were busy preparing dinner when you could have sworn you felt a hand brush your side, then gently cup your ass and give it a squeeze. Whirling around, you saw that there was nobody there. In fact, everyone seemed to be doing something. Shadowheart and Wyll were speaking in low voices, Karlach was playing fetch with delighted Scratch, Gale was resting, and Astarion was reading a book in front of his tent. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

You went back to preparing the meal. Gale for once asked to be relieved of cooking duty, having taken several particularly nasty blows during the surprise attack. So he passed on the ladle to the only person in the group that could apparently be trusted with their meal. You did not know what made him believe that you were any better in the kitchen than, say, Shadowheart or Wyll. But, having taken a look at his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, decided not to argue. You weren’t great at cooking, but you could manage a simple stew. Especially as Gale took care to write out step-by-step instructions for you to follow.

Then you felt it again. Phantom fingers brushed the back of your knee, making you yelp in surprise and almost drop what you were holding. This time you were certain that it wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks. Something or someone touched you and you were determined to find out who it was.

Eyes narrowing, you took another look at your companions. Astarion, whose idea of fun was pestering you when you were busy with something else, was your main suspect. Especially seeing as how he, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be really, really into his book. The book that you were sure you saw him read before.

With a huff, you turned back to the task at hand. If Astarion wanted something from you, he would probably tell you soon enough.

Minutes later, you heard him snap the tome closed as your vampire finally decided to come to you. You were chopping up vegetables for stew when Astarion approached you.

“Hello my sweet. Busy?” he all but purred, arms encircling your waist as he laid his chin on your shoulder.

“Not too busy to talk to you. How can I help?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything in particular. It’s just you know how much I enjoy seeing you handling a blade. And I am in a mood for a lovely chat with your lovely self.”

“Sounds… nice?”

“I can be very nice. In fact, I was nice enough to notice how tense you have been for the past several days. Travelling rough taking a toll on you, hm?”

“I suppose,” you frowned, not sure where exactly Astarion was going with this line of questioning. You felt as if he was toying with you, which he often was, leading you to say whatever it was that he wanted to hear, which you were probably about to do.

“You know how much I hate seeing you in such a state. And that got me thinking, how about I offer you a little stress relief? Just to make sure that you are in tiptop shape for all the adventuring that lies ahead, of course,” he ran his hand down your side, lifting your shirt a little to press his palm against your skin.

“Astarion,” you sighed with a smile, “if you want to get me alone and out of my pants, you have to wait till later. I can’t just let dinner burn because you are bored and wanting a stress relief of your own.”

“Tsk, you are no fun.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Luckily for you, my dear, you are in a relationship with the most creative lover!” he boasted, exposing his fangs in a cheeky smile. “You don’t even have to move, I will take care of everything. In fact,” he breathed down your neck, making a shiver pass through you, “I will not even touch you, in a way.”

You frowned, wondering what he was up to.

Seeing your confusion, he whispered his plan into your ear. Your face flushed from the mere suggestion.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Astarion!”

“My dear, this is happening. The only choice you get in the matter is whether you get to preserve a bit of your modesty.”

He took Gale’s apron from the bag near the makeshift table and shook it out.

“Apron or no apron?”

“Astarion, I really don’t think-”

“I’m not asking you to think, my sweet. You do enough of that every single day. I’m asking you a very simple question. Apron or no apron?”

“Apron,” you whispered shakily as he slipped it on you.

“Good choice,” he all but growled, pulling on the ties a little harsher than needed and making a tight knot. “And try to be discreet about it, dear. Wouldn’t want to alert the rest to what is going on right in front of their noses.”

The flush spread from your face to your neck.

“You are a terrible influence.”

“And you are thrilled by the thought, admit it. But darling,” he was suddenly serious, “this is all a bit of fun. If at any point it stops being fun, I will stop.”

You knew that this was always the case, Astarion would never force you, but were grateful that he made sure to point it out anyway.

“I know. I trust you,” you turned your head a little and pecked his cheek.

“And what are you two lovebirds talking about, hm?” Shadowheart said with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest. In spite of addressing both of them it was Astarion who she was looking at with distrust and annoyance.

“Nothing that would interest you,” Astarion moved and lifted both his hands, palms up, a perfect picture of innocence. “But if you are so concerned, I’m walking away now.”

“You better, Fangs!” Karlach walked past, on her way to fetch water. “Keep your hands where we can see them. Wouldn’t want to waste all that food just because you have nothing to occupy yourself with.”

“Tsk, you think so lowly of me. And just when I was about to renounce my old ways and become the poster boy for gentleman-like behaviour! There,” he sat gracefully on the stool next to Shadowheart’s tent, crossing his arms and legs petulantly, “happy now?”

You listened to the two bicker with fondness and went back to the task in hand. Absentmindedly, you wondered if Astarion was so distracted by sparring verbally with Shadowheart, a common occurrence, that he forgot all about you. The thought didn’t bother you, in fact you were a little relieved. What were you even thinking agreeing to something so lewd with everyone being right there? How unlike you, how scandalous!

But then you felt it again, this time on your inner thigh. Invisible hands insistently ascending until they reached the apex between your thighs, lightly brushing against the fabric there. Your eyes widened and you withdrew from the table with a jolt, unsure how you felt about the sensation. Your eyes snapped in the direction that Astarion took, but he seemed to have moved on from Shadowheart and was now arguing with Lae’zel.

Apparently, that did not require as much thought as one would think, because you felt the Mage Hand move towards you again. Thankfully, it was invisible. Something that he learned to do and was very pleased by the opportunities that newfound knowledge would offer.

Suddenly, you realised where you remembered the book Astarion was reading earlier from. It was the spell book that held the secret to advanced Mage Hand! The one that he told Gale that you accidentally sold to the vendor! Gale lectured you about the importance of keeping the travel trunk in perfect order for a tenday after that!

Just as you were about to march over to the elf and give him a piece of your mind, you felt the Mage Hand slip into your underwear. Looking down, you panicked. Perhaps the spell made it invisible, but the movement beneath the clothes would make what is happening rather obvious. Thankfully, the makeshift table near the cooking pot was high enough to partially hide you. The apron was proving helpful too.

You felt the tadpole in your mind stir as Astarion’s voice appeared in your mind.

I understand that this may be a little distracting, my sweet, but appearances must be kept up. Chop, chop!

You grit your teeth and lifted your knife. Right. Vegetables, meat and- Ooh, yes!

You felt a finger inside you and a thumb circling the swollen nub slowly.

Do try to stay still, darling. Conjuring up a second Mage Hand to keep you in place might make everyone in the vicinity aware of what is happening.

Bastard. That beautiful, devious, impossible bastard! As if staying still came easily to you at such times and he knew that far too well. Astarion so enjoyed in making you squirm.

My, my, you think me beautiful, my dear? Is this the thought dominating your days and surfacing during your dreams?

But of course this would be his only takeaway from listening in on your thoughts! You shoved him out of your mind and his mocking, sultry voice disappeared, but not before you heard an arrogant chuckle.

Being banished clearly did not sit well with Astarion as the Mage Hand doubled its efforts, making you put down the knife lest you dropped it on your foot and grip the table tightly with shaking hands. You bit your lip to stifle a moan and forced yourself not to rock against the fingers pumping in and out of you with increasing speed. This was torture. Sweet, overwhelming torture.

You buried your face in your hands as another finger joined the first two. It was too much and you were sure that someone was about to catch on and-

“Is everything alright?” you heard Wyll’s voice.

It might as well have been a bucket of cold water. You immediately straightened and looked at him with wide, panicking eyes. Did he know? He couldn’t have known! How could he possibly-

“Are you feeling quite well? You look like you are running a fever,” he was about to move around the table and towards you.

You had about ten seconds to make a decision. Because there was no way that you would live this one down. So you grabbed the ladle, shoved it into Wyll’s hands, and sprinted towards your tent, grabbing Astarion by the collar on the way. The vampire had the gall to give Wyll a wink and should, “Do start eating without us!”

You half-pushed, half-threw Astarion into your tent and closed the flap, making sure the damn thing was closed properly. Then, you gave yourself a minute to calm your erratic heartbeat.

When you turned, you were greeted with the sight of Astarion lounging on the bedroll. He was very naked, giving you a lazy, knowing smile.

“Where did you clothes go? I took my eyes off you for no more than a minute!”

“Why so displeased, love? Did you need me dressed for what is about to happen next?”

The nerve of that man! Looking at you like a cat that got the cream! As if he knew that you would happily jump atop of that. He was right, of course, but that was beside the point.

“Why Astarion, who knew that you would get so excited over this? And I didn’t even have to undress or touch you for you to get this,” you motioned to his cock standing at attention, “worked up.”

That wiped the arrogant smile off his face. Hah! Take that you handsome bastard!

Closing the distance between you, you crouched in front of Astarion, taking him into your hand and moving it torturously slow up and down the shaft, eliciting a groan as he thrust into your hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” he laughed in between gasps.

“Yes, very much, thank you.”

Keeping the rhythm, you started unbuttoning your shirt with your free hand. It would have probably looked sexy if the damn apron wasn’t still on you. Just as you wanted to untie it, Astarion stopped you.

“No. Keep it on,” he moved to help you out of your clothes. “I thought it looked rather fetching on you earlier.”

You nodded slowly, eyes fixated on his hard erection. You explored him. The very tip of his cock was traced with gentle fingers, then down the sides until your fingers went even lower, tracing around his balls before finally cupping them, kneading them gently, reverently.

Astarion was shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, allowing you to take your time. Feeling emboldened by his reactions, you spread his legs wider before lowering yourself, head between his legs. You kissed the tip of him before swirling her tongue around like you were savouring a treat. Slowly, inch by inch, you swallowed more and more before you stopped, unable to go any further. You sucked gently at first, before picking up speed, wrapping fingers around the base, stroking where mouth couldn’t reach. Your other hand rolled his balls in your palm.

“Oh darling, you must stop,” he groaned.

Freezing, you slowly pulled away and looked up at him with eyes heavy with passion. Did he want to stop? Was this too much?

He reached down and grabbed your shoulders, falling onto his back and dragging you on top. Sprawled on top of him, you could see Astarion was physically trying to hold himself back. He kissed you hard, leaving you breathless and panting.

Astarion rolled you over, his hips fitting between your legs. You felt the tip of his arousal pressing against your entrance.  

“Eyes on me, my love.”

You could not resist it when he spoke to you in that breathy way.

“Always.”

You looked into his eyes when he thrust into you for the first time, making you moan.

You murmured the Silence spell between pants, unsure of whether you would be able to keep concentrating on it for long.

“Do you really think you will manage to concentrate on the spell, my sweet?” he mocked you playfully between shallow, teasing thrusts.

“You seemed to have managed well enough,” you bit back, arching off the bedroll to get more of him in, “or is arguing with Lae’zel and Shadowheart becoming second nature?”

“Oh, please, as if I could get a word in edgewise. Once those two get going any off-hand comment will do. You, on the other hand,” he finally thrust into you in earnest, his breath shuddering out of him in relief as he was finally nestled in you the way he wanted all afternoon, “may find yourself distracted so thoroughly that- oh fuck! You are so tight,” he growled, words failing him. Astarion grit his teeth as he moved his hips, lost in the sensation, ashamed of himself for wanting to come already.

Truth be told, running his mouth would only go that far in trying to make sure that you came first. But then he looked at you, eyes shut, cheeks flushed and felt a wave of affection. Because you were his and he was yours, and you were enjoying each other. No shame, no judgement. So he let go and decided to be in the moment with you.

“You are doing so well, my sweet,” he murmured, kissing your eyes, your cheeks, your neck. “So wet, so good. I wanted this… My love.”

As Astarion’s pace sped up, your legs came over his hips to wrap around him, unbelievable pressure building deep inside. And then you lost yourself in him, in his pants, the movement of his hips, the way his fingers dug into your back as his grip on you tightened. You whimpered for him to bite you. And as he did, you held onto him, wanting to feel more and then more still. You gasped at a deep thrust, tightening your walls around him when he hit a spot that made you cry out in pleasure as you came.

Astarion gasped when you closed around him. Faster, harder; he couldn’t help himself. He was rough and he knew it, but the way you felt didn’t leave much in the way of his control. His own release came suddenly and, thrusting erratically, he rode the wave of pleasure until he was completely spent.

He couldn’t move. And to be honest he didn’t want to move. He was still inside you snug heat, listening to the wild beat of your heart. Giving himself another moment, Astarion kissed your shoulder and reluctantly pulled out. He didn’t move much farther than that; his arm was under your shoulders in an embrace, and his head rested on your chest. He was content to listen as your breathing evened out and heart slowed down. When your tremulous fingers stroked a curl out his face, Astarion had a frightening thought that he was absolutely sure that you ruined him so completely with your love and affection that he would be unable to survive without your presence in his life. Of course, he would probably never admit it. Still, as you shared a slow, unhurried kiss, perhaps those bards had a point when they sang about love and such.

Dinner was an awkward affair. You looked at your bowl and your bowl only, your cheeks aflame as you physically felt the judging glares shot in your direction. Because you did exactly as they suspected. Abandoned the cooking pot to fuck the vampire. Surprisingly, it was Gale who came to your defence.

“Now friends, you shouldn’t judge these two too harshly. I’ve read many a book that mentioned the inherent eroticism of cooking. No wonder they got caught up in the moment!”

Shadowheart did not look convinced or impressed by that explanation, but mercifully chose not to say anything. Perhaps because against all odds the food turned out not as terrible as expected. Of course, that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that Wyll added salt and spices, and made sure your dinner did not burn.

“But perhaps food preparation should be left to me, after all,” Gale went on. “Speaking of, has anyone seen my apron?”

You were mid chew and almost chocked on your food.

“I spilled something on it, so I had to wash it,” you said, not reacting when you heard Astarion chuckle into his wine. “But you will get it back as soon as it dries,” you quickly assured Gale, feeling terrible for having used it at all.

“Splendid! I am rather fond of that apron,” he nodded, going back to his meal.

But Astarion too found himself unwilling to part with it. Which is why he swiped the apron quickly and discreetly, squirreling it away until next time. Because there would certainly be a next time.

not kissing a vampire after they drink your blood is like not kissing someone after they give you head. Where’s your class. intimacy

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