Astarion x M!Reader

Thirty-Nine

You rolled languidly in the sheets. The night had quickly slipped away and the first rays of the sun cut through the blanket of stars.

You had drawn all the curtains, closing the windows tightly out of paranoia that Cazador might reappear. Although there was one more reason for that.

The house was empty, deserted of any means he could have used to gain entry. All except Astarion. But he was his own spawn. He had no power in this house. Not as long as you were in the immediate vicinity.

Another sigh rolled from your lips, as it had so many times before. Even though it was a strange thought, your heart felt heavy. Hollow and yet filled with stones. Again there was this loneliness that spread through you.

As if he had been waiting for his cue, the blanket suddenly lifted at the end of the bed. Someone crawled down, along your legs all the way up until fingers felt over your chest.

Your eyes remained tightly closed. Still, you slip a hand under the blanket to feel for softness. Tiredly, Astarion grumbled, pushed your fingers away and stuck his head out enough to breathe.

One of your eyes opened to look down at him. The red had faded a little and a glimmer of the old (E/C) appeared. So it was still possible for you to change some aspects of your appearance.

The realisation pleased Astarion. He had been very keen for you to be as little like Cazador as possible in every respect. Even the way you smiled at him now was different. It did something to him.

Was he happy or why did his chest suddenly become so warm?

"My darling.", two fingers slid under his chin. "It's rude to break into other men's bedrooms."

He curled his lips with a grin. His breath caressed your skin. You didn't even notice how he didn't complain about the nickname. If he was honest with himself, he had no desire to do so. He even liked the way the word made his ears twitch.

Slowly, he moved closer to you, his bare chest resting against his.

"No man has ever complained when I've done it."; he replied in a whisper and tilted his head.

White waves fell into his forehead, framing those pointed ears. Your fingers twitched but you held back. He noticed, red eyes travelling over his face before he braced himself deeply as if he had to prepare himself first.

"Do it.", his voice was soft with a hint of longing.

Raising an eyebrow, you looked at him.

"What do you want me to do, Astarion?", you asked, and it sounded as if you just wanted to kiss him with words.

His breathing was calm as he leant forward. Your noses were so close now that the tips could have touched.

"Do you want to hear me plead after all?", he asked reproachfully. "Don't be like him."

Irritated by the comparison, your eyes twitched. A quick breath escaped you.

"You know I didn't mean it like that.", he rested his chin on your chest and closed his eyes to sigh. "Sometimes I talk before I think."

Your hand lifted to rest on his back. He had really soft skin, especially after the warm bath. Smooth like the rose petals that had floated on the surface.

You found yourself toying with the idea of dragging your fingernails over his back. Not great, it shouldn't cause him any pain, but enough to leave red marks that would last until morning.

Was this your way of marking prey?

You almost had to snort. How similar you were. His weight pressed down on you, pleasantly heavy to know he was there but not heavy enough to hinder your breathing.

"I think it's time to go to sleep.", with these words you tried to strangle the desire inside you.

But he made it really hard for you. His legs were still hanging next to you on the bed, but the way he was moving it seemed likely that he wanted to lie right on top of you. For whatever reason he might have wanted to do that.

At least he'd put on some weight since he arrived, no bones pressing into your flesh in an uncomfortable way. But it wasn't him you were worried about either.

No matter how old and immortal, at the end of the day you were just a man. And this man began to desire.

You wanted to pull him on top of you, to feel his full weight in your lap as your body responded to how beautiful he was.

The edges of his face had begun to round out in a healthy way. He was still slim but no longer scrawny, with a few muscles in all the right places. And even though he was much more confident now, you couldn't help but imagine the sounds he would make if you buried your hand in his hair, both of his hands behind his back, and pulled.

The idea alone almost drove you out of your mind.

Was that the loneliness that spoke from you?

No, you were sure of it. From the beginning he had had that sparkle in his eyes, the same white hair and that slender neck that you would have loved to sink your teeth into.

It would have been a waste to take him to bed, you probably couldn't even feel most of it. But by the Absolute, you wanted to hear his voice, to make him look at you as the blush took over his cheeks.

You wanted to see him beneath you. No, better still, if he were sitting on top of you. Then it would be possible to look at him in his perfection.

Your teeth gritted. You had to take your eyes off him when he lifted his head to look at your face.

With all the evils in the world, why did he have to be here right now, at your most vulnerable moment?

You had never been a good man, but you had tried. It was harder for you at this moment than it had been in all the years before.

Inhaling sharply, you pressed your head into the pillow and expelled the air again. Your chest lifted against his and bare skin met bare skin.

Now it was him whose breathing changed.

"Platinum...", he whispered, his nails scraping lightly across your collarbone. "I want you to want me."