Astarion and I [x reader] (Baldurs Gate 3) SMUT + STORYLINE

Chapter 5- No More Rose Colored Glasses

I'm starting this on the same day I finished my previous chapter, I wanted to get something down and found myself lost in the sauce, my fanfiction. Honestly, I'm procrastinating my HW and this is my escape.

Enjoy!

A day had passed since Astarion had came to my shop and openly admitted his motive. The shop was busy, it being a Friday. I had no time to worry or fret about the night before. The burning sensation of his words hitting my heart dulled to a low burn.

Then a week passed, yet every night I felt lost in my big empty bed. The steamy dreams of Astarion slowly fading from my mind each night. I felt as if I didn't sleep each night. Well, to be fair I wasn't getting much sleep. I felt my pillows were too hard, or too soft. My legs were too warm or too cold. Something was always wrong. But I knew, rather than my body it was my mind which still was awake. 

Today was Thursday, another shitty Thursday. Just another empty Thursday. I felt myself feel these cold empty walls with such emotion. I felt cold. I felt myself bitter. I felt myself unwilling to talk and unwilling to even exist in these moments. I didn't read, I didn't write, I didn't stock, and I didn't count the gold in the shop. I just stood there, brows a furrowed mess. That rouge had severely fucked me up.

The moment was deafening, with no distractions for me to keep. Yet, I  feel like shit. And like a wounded dog, I am licking my wound. The tongue hurts as it grazes the burning feeling of blood dripping, yet I know it will heal. It will clean.

So, I began thinking about Astarion. Why did I let him treat me that way? Why did I put down my walls? Why did it escalate so far?

His smile lingered in my thoughts, and yet I wondered if any of them were genuine.

Perhaps, it was fun at first, to see my reaction as some sort of buzz word. The more I thought of it, the more that felt possible.

Knowing his playboy status, he probably felt confident in his work and unsure of himself the moment I questioned him. He probably lashed out because I was interrogating him, but the words he said were just plainly unfair. He saw my weak point, something I never even told him but rather a town rumor, and stabbed it the minute I questioned his actions. Yet, that only proved my worries.

What If I gave in that lonely night? Would I have woken up with myself between his arms? Or rather would he be gone by the time I awoke. Would it be a one off situation, him taking advantage of that later for a sale, or would he join me in bed again.

Would he have caught feelings.... eventually?

Or would I live in darkness with a pit in my chest knowing I felt myself for him when he did not.

I couldn't answer that, at least not now. Most likely, not ever. I felt sick to my stomach when I thought about seeing him again, I'd feel the same sick if his party came in. Any reminder of the handsome white haired elf made me sick, sick in a way that was physical. Sick in a way I couldn't serve them.