Astarion x M!Reader

Forty-Two

Warmth nestled against your body. But it wasn't the kind of warmth that came from desire. It was the kind that could only be felt when a loved one rested his head on your chest while slumbering.

Astarion had his eyes closed, you listened to his breathing while the shadows drew paintings on the ceiling. It smelled of bodies, a bit sweaty.

A smile crossed your face and satisfaction filled your chest. It had been more than what you had imagined, had elevated your senses and drowned them again.

Now all you breathed was him, all you smelled and tasted was the memory of his lips, his neck on which you had buried your face to hide the power he had over you.

Weakness.

Once again you felt like you had made yourself more vulnerable, easier to blackmail. Cazador could use Astarion against you if he wanted to and realistically he would.

And yet.

There was no regret in you, no fear that he'd be your downfall. If he would be you wouldn't complain. This felt like something absolute, something that had soothed your soul.

You were at peace. Something you hadn't been for a long time.

If you would have been mortal, had died earlier or wanted to you wouldn't have had the chance to meet Astarion. In the end it felt like all this suffering had been worth it.

A soft breath tickled along your chest. Astarion turned his head, cheek nestled against your chest. Little sounds escaped his lips that were still swollen from the kisses you had stolen.

"What are you staring at?", he asked in a sleepy voice, eyes still closed.

With a huff, you turned your gaze back to the ceiling. He nudged your side, making you squirm.

"Someone is being feisty today.", you noted and breathed a kiss to the top of his hair.

The white mane was a mess, strands fell onto his face, made his eyelashes flicker whenever the touch irritated them.

He smelled of rosemary and mint and you wished to have this scent close to you till the end of time.

With a sweet smirk on his lips Astarion swung one leg across you, pushed himself up and sat in your lap. Bare skin brushed your tights.

"I remembered you liked the free man.", he said in a cheeky way and hoovered down a little.

His cheeks brushed against your crotch. Your gaze locked with his, a deep breath made your nose quiver. Your hands came to rest on his hips.

"Already wanting to make another mess?", you asked.

A slit opened between your lips to let a breath escape. Night had fallen again, a few strands of silver moonshine crept through the curtains and bathed his pale skin in silver.

No, platinum.

Your hands rose to roam along his sides, over his chest and his neck all the way up to grab his face. His eyes fell shut as he tilted his head to snuggle into the palm of your hands.

He sighed, deep and at ease with himself.

"Just how you control me, my darling.", as the pet name left your lips he shivered gently.

You pulled him down into a kiss. And once again you felt like warmth chased through your undead body. Even the beating of your heart reacted to him and jumped.

Sighing softly against your lips he let himself rest on your chest while you held him close. The untameable desire to keep him save raged in your chest.

You let your chin rest on top of his head.

A comfortable silence spread for a moment in which you just listened to his breath, the way he swallowed every few moments.

The tip of his ears twitched.

Suddenly a wave of weight washed over you. Your heart grew heavy. Eyebrows knitted together you looked up to the shadows.

Wildly, they whispered, twisted and turned. Voices echoed in your head, loud and excited but also full of worry. They knew something, warned.

Cazador, you thought immediately.

A groan escaped you.

Astarion stirred.

"What bothers you?", he asked but remained with his head rested on your chest.

Soft breezes caressed your skin whenever he took a breath. It chased goosebumps over the spot only for them to be chased away by the warmth that he gifted you with his body.

"Well...", you smiled softly to yourself, breathing out. "I wish I could say nothing."

"But that would be a lie.", he smiled against your skin.

"Smart and beautiful. That's how I like my men.", you grabbed his chin with gentle persistence to steal another kiss, or maybe two or three.

"I'm trying my best to please you.", his arms wrapped around your neck. "Because I want to."

"Oh, what sweet promises. Are you sure you're not a siren, my darling?"

He chuckled, face buried in the crook of your neck. Humming softly, he took a few moments before his head rose again to meet your gaze.

"So tell me. What bothers you, Platinum?"

Platinum. A name you had chosen for yourself to let people address you without worry. It wasn't unusual for vampires to give themselves such names in order to ensure protection.

But somehow this time it did not cut it. The way it made your ears tingle just wasn't quite right. It was the right voice from the right man but the wrong name.

You wanted him to call you by your real name, the name you had been born with. The very name that Vellioth the Martinet had used to enslave you.

The very name you had given to the shadows in exchange for their power. And yet. It still lingered in the back of your mind.

You could still taste it on the tip of your tongue.

A gentle breath squeezed out from between your lips. Not yet. You couldn't tell him yet, not as long as a threat floated above your heads.

Cazador.

"Just a few more weeks.", you kissed him gently. "Our worries will be gone."