Work Text:
The heels of your boots clicked against the polished stone floor of the Monastery of Lathander and you couldn’t help but look up at the high ceilings and stained glass windows. The architecture was intricate and extensive with carved columns crawling along the walls and large statues of the Bringer of the Dawn himself spotted throughout the entryway. There were various priests and clerics as well as paladin’s of all nature of status bowing before some of the many statues in prayer or strolling through the halls in hushed conversation. The Awakened novices dressed in simple robes of varying shades of brown, black, and grey. The Dawngreeters and above statuses, however, were slightly more extravagant with their robes with all the different shades of the dawn adorning their bodies as they even trailed slightly behind them. You dragged yourself out of your thoughts and sighed softly, adjusting the cloak pinned at the front of your neck as you looked around once more. You usually weren’t one to pray or put much faith in the gods, but now seemed as good a time as any. Your adventure ahead was long and Lathander seemed to be the best god to show favor to, considering the new leaf you were planning to turn over.
It was then that your gaze was snagged by a head of wavy white hair amidst yellow and golden robes along with the long, pointed ears poking through the soft curls. His profile was gorgeous, the sunlight that was hitting the stained glass windows splintered off into washes of an array of colors across his pale skin. His shoulders were wide but lean, and he practically swayed as he walked, a halo of colors streaking across his hair. All of a sudden, you were face to face with red eyes, bright with the prospect of a newcomer, and a sickeningly sweet smile. You thought you caught a glimpse of a pair of elongated canines, but you snapped your eyes to meet the man’s once more as he opened his pretty lips to speak. “A new face! Those are rare around here. Might I ask what you are looking for in a house of the Dawnfather?” He asks, his voice dripping all over your brain like thinned honey and cinnamon. You couldn’t help the way your breath caught in your throat at his closer than expected proximity and the way that he looked at you like a fresh meal.
“Oh, uh, well I had just come to pray for a bit. I’m setting off on a new adventure and this is something of a…new beginning for my life, so I thought Lathander could at least give me part of a blessing.” You explain softly, mindful of the way your voice echoes in the large room, and the pale elf hums in acknowledgement, nodding his head and making his pretty white waves of hair swish about. “I see, that is wonderful! We are happy to bring the Morninglord’s light to all who seek it. Come, I’ll guide you.” His voice rumbles out the request and before you can decline, he has already turned his back to you and walked a few steps in front of you in a gentle flurry of silk and cotton.
You tip toe over the small train his robes leave behind him as you catch up, walking by his side once more. “That’s really not necessary, sir…?” “Astarion,” he interjects quickly, his eyes gleaming with something mischievous and foreign to you as he gives you a sidelong glance. “Sir Astarion. I really only came to pray for a few moments and be on my way-” The man stops walking and turns to face you, nearly making you run into him. “Oh, I know, little dove, but you see I have some prayers of my own that I would like you to accompany me with.” He explains, dropping his voice to a whisper and leaning forward slightly so the words flitted into your ears, just for you. His whisper was dark with a rolling creak in the back of his throat that accentuated every syllable and made your hair stand on end. When you didn’t respond, he gave you a sharp smirk, looking at you, with eyes that seemed darker than moments ago, through a pair of darkened lashes. You instantly knew you were completely fucked. It was like his gaze had draped a soaking wet blanket of charm over you, clinging to your skin and making you crumple under him. You finally slowly nodded in response and he gave you a satisfied nod before turning once more to continue walking.
You followed him into what looked to be a private confessional room of sorts. There were a few rows of wooden benches lined up facing a modest stage with a podium at the front. There were approximately six small alcoves along the walls of the room, looking as if they had been carved out of the stone itself. The doorways of these alcoves were blocked by curtains of orange, gold, and soft blue, preventing you from seeing inside, but your curiosity was quickly sated when Astarion guided you to one of the little rooms at the far end of the room, nearly in the corner. He held the orange and gold curtain aside and motioned for you to step in first, which you did. There was a plush, brown couch pressed against the wall, draped in soft looking blankets of dawn colors and you hummed in delight as you sat down on it with a little smile. The little nook was complete with a bowl of water, what you assumed to be for hand washing, on top of a simple looking table with a rickety wooden chair next to it that seemed like it had seen better days.
Astarion stepped in after you and closed the curtain, whispering a gentle incantation before pulling the wooden chair up next to you and taking a seat in it. “Now, this is a private prayer chamber. The incantation I used is a bit like a silence spell, but only for those on the outside, so we may be free from judgment.” He explains softly and leans his elbows on his knees as he sits, eyes darting down your body and back up to your face with a heated fervor. “You see, little dove, you have caught my attention rather fiercely. You are quite a sight for sore eyes, you know.” He teases softly, his quirked brow and lopsided smirk seeming to taunt you. “We…aren’t really here to pray.” You mumble out, your face alight with the burn of bashfulness as you relax a little into the couch, lifting your arms to rest along the back of it. “Ah, what a smart pup you are, so observant.” Astarion chuckles out, his voice smothered in condescending praise that shot a bolt of white hot arousal through your stomach. “No, my intention of bringing you here was not to pray with you. I require from you, a…penance of sorts. If you’re willing to pay it, of course.” He says and slowly stands once again to stand in front of you, now looking down at you from where you sat. “What…what is the penance?” You ask, the saliva in the back of your throat thick with nerves, and you look up at him, unmoving.
Astarion just chuckles at you and leans forward, resting his hand against the back of the couch along with your arm, so that your noses are nearly touching. His searing gaze flickers down to your lips before back up to your face. “Sex, my dear,” he says simply with a growing grin on his sinful mouth, highlighting the fangs that you could now clearly see. “I would never force you into anything, of course. You’re free to leave this room whenever you would like. But, I get a feeling that you aren’t a gods-worshiping sort. And Lathander doesn’t take kindly to prayers offered by pretenders of faith.” He explains in a whisper and all of a sudden his free hand is finding its place under your chin, his cool thumb stroking the swell of your lower lip as you gaze up at him like a frightened bunny. “So, if you pay my penance, my darling, you shall receive the blessing you seek.”
You require no other explanation. You know there are giant red flags about this man, you could see them from a mile away, and his justification of his price to be paid was full of holes. But the temptation was simply too much for your heavy heart to bear any longer. The most beautiful man you had ever set eyes on in your life was offering you the chance of a lifetime and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to take it.
Before you think about it any further, your lips are on his. It’s a gentle kiss, but full of hunger. His lips are soft and it’s now that you can catch whiffs of rosemary and bergamot as you move your lips in time with one another, getting a feel of the rhythm you two have set. You pull away for breath and gaze at him for a beat before surging back in, now much more passionate and needy, less tentative. It was unusual for you to be so undone by a stranger so quickly, but with the way his hand had moved from your chin to grip your jaw and cheeks instead, you knew that you never stood a chance. You move your hands from their spots on the back of the couch and reach up to wrap them around his shoulders and neck instead, pulling him impossible closer to you. He growled against your mouth as you did this, making your hands falter. Astarion pulled away from you and untangled himself from your grasp as well as letting go of your face to stand tall over you once more. “Stand up.” His voice is commanding, deep and full of authority. You would be a fool not to obey. So you did.
“Good, pet. Now undress.” He purrs in that honey coated voice. You pursed your lips to block the rising whimper in your throat and practically ripped the cloak from around your neck. You thanked the gods you hadn’t put on your armor yet and were still in casual clothes. Gripping the hem of your shirt, you wrenched it off of your head, exposing your bare chest to him and bending over to wrestle the slightly too tight trousers off of your legs. Now you stand, completely naked in front of Astarion, the completely clothed Dawngreeter of Lathander. His eyes dart around and take in your form, his pallid tongue flicking out to run along his lower lip and the tips of his own fangs. “Goodness, you’re a beauty. I could just eat you right up.” He says through an almost evil looking grin and steps towards you, easily shedding the layers of his light robes until he was naked as well. You took a moment to appreciate his body as he had yours, feeling the blush spread from your face up to your ears and down to your neck. He wasn’t bulky nor was he too skinny, a perfect medium of barely visible lean muscle under porcelain skin that looked as if it had never seen the sun.
Astarion shoots his hands out to grasp at each of your hips and he is the one to kiss you this time, groaning softly at the desperation you expressed in the way you melted into his touch as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. He pulled your hips flush against his, letting your eager body grind against his hardening cock. “Fuck.” You whine out breathlessly, a tingle of pleasure spreading through your lower body, and you can’t help but tilt your head back at the feeling. Astarion’s eyes lock onto your neck in mere moments and you suddenly feel his chilled lips against your throat, your breath catching in your lungs at the sensation. He makes quick and skilled work of exploring your neck, sucking dark bruises onto the skin of the most sensitive parts and he finally pulls away once more, taking a step back to look at you.
“Oh gods, you look so pathetic. Whimpering and grinding against me that way. It’s almost like you want something.” The elf teases in that patronizing tone of voice once more that has you wiggling slightly in his light grasp, pressing your thighs together and stroking his chest. “Come on, pet, tell me what you want.”
“I…I need you to fuck me, Astarion.” You say, breathless and desperate as you reach out to hold him again, but he suddenly lets go of your waist. Before you can even whine about the loss of his touch, his hand is gripping your jaw once more, but harsher this time with your cheeks squished a little in his grasp. “No, no, no, darling. You will not demand anything from me. Ask me nicely and politely and I may fulfill your request. Try. Again.” His voice rumbles through a growl as he slightly shakes your head from his grip on your face to emphasize his point. You can do nothing but nod, helpless under his commanding aura and dark gaze. “P-Please fuck me, Sir Astarion. Please, I need it so badly! I want nothing more than to feel your cock inside me, please.” You beseech desperately, your heart thundering in your chest as his free hand traces feather light fingertips down your sternum. “Your begging sounds oh so delicious, little dove. How could I deny you something you so desperately need?” He says with a mischievous chuckle and lets go of your face to gently push you back onto the couch.
You plop down onto the plush cushions and look up at him only to find the full length of his dick shadowing your face. You glance up a little more to see his face, to which he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slowly lean forward slightly to kiss the tip. You are sure to keep eye contact with him as you lick and kiss your way up and down his dick as he slowly threads a hand through the hair on the top of your head. You reach up, gripping the base of his cock with a hand, and filling your mouth with him. There is a slight tang of salt from the precum that had been gathering at the tip. Astarion hisses softly, sucking air harshly through his teeth as he grips your hair. He rumbles out a delighted hum as he feels you start to bob your head, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth until the tip touched the back of your throat with every downward movement. “Good, so good for me.” He purrs his praise at you and the sound of it feels like bathing in a fresh stream warmed by the sun. There was a fog coming over your brain now and you gazed up at him, taking in how his chest heaved a little with quickening breaths and how his eyes were heavy lidded as he stared into your soul. “With the way you’re looking at me, one would think you worship me.” His voice slices through the fog you’ve found yourself in while simultaneously thickening it. Your arousal is now a raging fire in your belly and you fight with yourself to not reach down to alleviate some of it.
You continue your movements and add in tactful flicks of the tongue and strategic harsh sucks that hallowed out your cheeks, sensing that his pleasure was building from the increasing frequency of his moans and the way his thigh muscles tensed and quivered beneath your hands. Just as you are about to double down on your speed and technique, he suddenly grips your hair tightly and pulls his hips back, his cock glistening with your spit. Astarion looks down at you, your lips swollen and red from the abuse of his dick in your mouth and he pushes you back once more to lay fully on the couch. He crawls over you and grins, all fangs and heated eyes as you slowly spread your legs for him to settle between. “You have surpassed my expectations, little dove. I suppose you deserve a reward.” He praises in a tentative and endearing whisper, one so full of heat and need that you may have thought it genuine if you were any further devoid of thought than you already were.
You feel a gentle hand against your inner thigh, trailing cold fingertips towards your most intimate part and making you gasp softly. Soon his fingers are at your hole, exploring gently without pressing in just yet. “What’s my name?” He leans down to press his lips right against your ear to ask. “Sir Astarion.” “And whose cock do you want more than anything?” You whimper at his second question, crying out desperately as one of his fingers presses only an inch inside of you before stopping. “Yours! Sir Astarion, I only want your cock, please!” You beg with a needy wrinkle in your brow and a moan slips out of you when you are rewarded by two fingers squeezing into you fully. “Good, pet. Remember that incantation from earlier,” He asks and pulls back to look at your expression. You nod quickly at his inquiry and he shows off his dangerously pointed canines once more in a grin. “Good. I expect you to hold none of your noises back. I’d like my pretty dove to sing for me.” He says and begins to quickly fucking his fingers into you, relishing in your surprised and delighted squeal.
You lay back and allow the white-haired man to do as he pleased, looking up at him with a mouth that hung open to let the little whines and moans leave your lips effortlessly. He hums in praise at you and slips another finger inside, much to your pleasure. You feel the scrunch of your brow as his fingers delight your insides with their surprisingly skilled maneuvers, flicking, stroking, and petting your walls until it became too much but not enough all at once. Just as you are about to beg for him once more, he slides his fingers out of you to tease your hole with the red, hot tip of his dick instead. He reached down to spread your legs, eyes glued to your hole and how it swallowed up his cock with little resistance. At the feeling of him sinking into you, you gasp and your hands shoot up to latch on to his biceps to ground you.
You groan, low and long, in unison with Astarion as he finally bottoms out inside of you. He gives you only one second of pause before he is thrusting his hips slowly, his cock pressing deeply into you. You reward him with a string of breathless moans and happy sighs. “Sir, it feels so good. Thank you, Sir Astarion.” You moan softly and move your hands to his shoulders instead, yelping in surprise as he grips the back of your thighs to lift them up. He throws your legs over his shoulders and leans his hands on the couch beside you, effectively putting you in a mating press position. He increases the speed of his thrusts, his cock still hitting deep spots inside of you that you had no idea you had, because of the position you were in. You gaze at his face, the way his brow furrowed and how his nose scrunched up at the bridge as he bared his teeth from the effort. Sweat slowly rolled down his forehead and trailed along his strong jaw, accentuating his beautiful pale skin.
The fire in your belly was now a complete inferno. Astarion’s dick was the fuel for this inferno and the water that would quench it at the same time.
“That’s right, darling, look at you. It’s like your hole was made for me. You’re taking my dick so well that it’s downright sinful,” he growls through a moan, his breath hot as it fanned against your face. You can do nothing but dig your nails into the skin on his shoulders and moan out through a relaxed jaw, as the fog cloud gripped your brain, sinking into every wrinkle and crevice until there were only thoughts of him.
Astarion increased the speed of his thrusts once again and he grunts with a gravel in his voice that didn’t seem to be there before as he takes a free hand to press gently on your lower stomach. The extra pressure of his pressing down along with the speed and depth of his thrusts finally snapped the cord inside your belly. You let out a strained gurgle of a moan as you orgasm, your hole clamping down on Astarion almost instantly. Once air enters your lungs once more, you squealed in pleasure and trailed off into another moan as the priest didn’t dare slow down his hips. Your blood felt like liquid electricity in your veins and your legs trembled on his shoulders as your orgasm ran through your body in waves. Once you finally thought your body had calmed down, the overstimulation slammed into you like a truck.
“S-Sir Astarion, please, please! No more! I can’t take it-” You whine desperately and weakly grip his arms and shoulders. “Patience, pet,” he growls sharply at you and leans down to bury his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, deeply breathing in your smell. Only a few more whimpers from you and a few more thrusts from him had him spilling his cum inside you with loud grunts and shaking moans, slowing his hips to a stop. You both panted heavily in a soft cacophony of the after effects of pleasure and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him for a few moments. Your fingers came into contact with the raised skin of scars and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Before you could ask, though, he pulls away from you and pulls out with a hiss. “You did so well, little dove. Truly, you did.” He purrs happily and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to your damp cheek before heaving himself off of the couch. You take a few more moments for yourself to continue to lay on the couch, finally getting your breathing back under control.
“Your penance has been paid. Lathander will surely bless you generously, just as I have.”
