#gale x afab!reader
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Sleep Well
Gale x Reader (Baldur's Gate 3)
Rating: Explicit. 18+ only.
CW: AFAB reader, no pronouns or names used. Graphic descriptions of oral sex. Mentions of p.i.v.
Since I hit 69 followers on this blog, you all voted if I should celebrate by writing something, and I did. Enjoy! This is my first time writing for Gale and I don't expect it to be my last.
Gale sighed and put down the book he'd been reading. He yawned and stretched like a cat, his fingers finding your hairline and gently stroking. "Shall we go to bed, my love?"
You nuzzled your cheek into his thigh where you lay. "Mm, I think I could stay like this forever."
He chuckled, tracing the line of your cheekbone with his thumb.
"As could I, but we have a long day of travel ahead of us. We need to be well rested for whatever tomorrow will bring."
You pouted, nestling your face further into his lap. "But I'm so comfortable here," you complained, only half in jest. "And I'm not sleepy."
Gale sighed. "The rest of camp is surely asleep by now. We have already stayed up a bit too late reading. We should-"
You cut him off. "Well, if the others are all asleep..."
You turned your head ever so slightly, meeting his warm gaze. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. The look in them was one of pure adoration, no secrets swimming in their depths. From the moment he had confessed his love to you, any reservations he had held had melted away at the assurance of your hand in his. He loved you.
A smile teased at his lips. "Oh, I see. Perhaps you want me to, erm, wear you out? Make sure you sleep well tonight?"
You nodded, blushing slightly.
He hummed approval, easing you off of his lap as he pulled off his tunic. His broad chest, tattoo tracing its way from his heart to his cheek, was softly illuminated in the candlelight.
"Come here." His voice was thick with arousal, somewhere between an order and a plea. He could have been begging, he could have been demanding. You stood, shucking off your own nightclothes, before kneeling, straddling his head, but not lowering yourself fully. Close enough for him to smell your arousal but not letting him taste you yet.
He groaned, hands rising to your hips as though to pull you onto him, hold you steady while you rode his tongue as you had many times before.
You grasped his fingers before he could pull your hips down, close the distance between your slick cunt and his warm mouth. He let out a small whine of protest. He was hungry for you.
"Is this what you want?" You teased, "do you want me to sit down? Do you want to taste me?"
Gale let out a low moan. "You know that's all I want, all I've ever wanted. I crave your nectar." So poetic, even with his pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed.
"Then you're going to have to let me taste you first." A wicked grin spread across your face as you lifted up, gently pushing his hands down to his sides.
"My love, you know you never have to--that I never expect you to--Aah!" Gale gasped sharply as you unlaced his breeches and pulled them down, exposing his already hard cock to the night air filling his tent. Running a finger up the vein on the underside, you smiled. "Good boy, already so hard for me. You know exactly what I want, don't you?"
Pressing a kiss to the head, you scooted down so that you were resting on your stomach between Gale's thighs. You knew that if you didn't take him like this, he would be content to make you cum against his mouth again and again, only seeking his own pleasure once you were a mewling mess begging for him to fill your sensitive, twitching pussy. You loved that about him--how could you not be damn near addicted to such a generous lover?
But as delightful as it was to watch him shudder with desire just from giving you orgasm after orgasm, you found that there was a very real part of you that wanted to do the same for him. Make him squirm and whimper your name, bucking his hips into your hand as you stroked him. Take his cock into your mouth until you were choking on it, tears streaming down your face. See, you would think, see how completely undone I am for you? How I worship you every bit as much as you worship me?
This was one of those nights. Just as you were lowering your head about to start sucking at his cock, Gale placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. "No, not like this."
Immediately, you sat up. "What's wrong? We can stop if you're uncomfortable or too tired or--"
He cut you off with a low laugh.
"No, no. What you were about to do is.... delightful. Please, do not think that the feeling of your lips around me does not drive me wild. It does, most assuredly. I simply want--I still want to taste you. In fact, I'd prefer to taste you while you do that, if it's all the same to you."
You felt your eyes widen. "Absolutely," you choked out, "I would love that."
Rising from between his legs, you crouched above his face once more, this time facing his crotch. The moment you lowered yourself fully onto Gale's lips, his cock twitched and a small bead of precum bloomed from the tip.
You rocked your hips slightly against him, the friction sending jolts of pleasure along your clit. Moaning, you leaned forward, gently pulling his thighs toward you for balance. With his feet flat on his bedroll, Gale spread his legs. You bent forward, taking his tip into your mouth and licking the precum from it. Gently, you flicked your tongue across the slit there, widening the circle until you were tracing the flare at the base of the head with just your tongue.
He moaned into you and the vibration of the sound made you let out a whine of your own, muffled by your mouthful of cock.
As your pace quickened, the careful patterns Gale had been tracing along your folds became more frenzied. His fingers, usually so gentle, dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled himself deeper into you, tongue flicking into your vagina with a desperation you'd never felt from him before, even on your first few nights together. If you hadn't had your mouth full, you thought you would have been screaming his name.
Instead, you moaned louder against his shaft as your head bobbed, taking every inch of him if only to stifle the sounds he was rending from you as he tonguefucked you. It was too much. You came with a gasp, needily grinding against his chin as he kept licking and sucking you through your orgasm.
Even though you had stopped working him as you came, the sound and taste of your orgasm sent him rutting up into your mouth again, rougher this time, thrusting up into your mouth while you held your head still and came down from your high. He was close, you could tell from his whimpers that he was about to spill. Once you could breathe again, you pulled a hand from his leg and began to stroke him, his shaft slick with your spit, as you ran your tongue along the head. Faster, faster, until he came, his load spilling down your throat with a beautiful moan.
You swallowed, your throat contracting as you licked the last of his cum from his still twitching dick.
Gingerly, you rolled off of him and resituated so that you were lying on the bedroll beside him, your faces only inches apart. Gale rolled onto his side and kissed you, deeply, sloppily. You tasted yourself on his tongue and knew he must taste the salty tang of his semen in your mouth as well.
Satisfied and slightly out of breath, he pulled back. "Was that...what you...had hoped for?" He gasped.
"Oh Gale," you murmured as you buried your face in his chest, "I don't even know where to start." Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.
Gale raised one big hand to cradle your face. "Start with sleep, my darling."
#gale dekarios#bg3 gale#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale of waterdeep#gale x afab!reader#gale x gn!reader#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale bg3#bg3 x reader#gale#mine#gale smut#bg3 smut
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Professor!GalexYouAFAB Reader
Summary: You wake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep so Gale finds an appropriate activity to relieve both of you.
NSFW 18+ Content: Explicit, Oral Sex, PIV Sex, Edging, Minors DNI
You toss and turn, sleep evading you. Despite your best efforts your brain refuses to quiet and you hear Gale stir and grumble beside you. “It’s the middle of the night..” he murmurs before wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer into his embrace. His head rests in the crook of your neck and you brush the hair from his face, admiring the strong jaw, full lashes, plump lips. You feel heat spread through you, your touch crackling with electricity as you admire him.
“Why are you awake..” Gale turns to you, blinking sleep from his eyes and plants a soft kiss on your neck. It earns him a shiver and the sleep shakes further from him, his pupils blackening as he becomes more alert. His lips part and you feel him shift against you, a familiar firmness growing in his trousers.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you…” you say softly, cooing him back to slumber.
“I’m quite awake now..” he says, his hot breath against your neck as he flicks his tongue against it. “You look so beautiful… I rarely get to admire you at this time of night.” His voice was quiet and husky and his words were true. It wasn’t often you found yourself wide awake at these odd hours, where the moon hands almost eerily on the black dusted horizon. Gale brushes his fingers against your hair and he pulls himself up and you back to him, your bodies nestled together in a familiar “s” shape.
You feel him shift slightly and let out a husky laugh. “Awake in more ways than one, apparently,” you tease and shift your hips back against him, the hard evidence of his erection pressed into your backside and you bite down on your lip as you feel your body stir with the familiar creeping of lust.
You bring your hand behind you, your fingers grazing the hardened outline over his underwear eliciting a low groan from Gale. “Temptress..” he teases in your ear, biting down on your earlobe before brushing his lips against your neck. You feel his warm tongue against the delicate skin so you shudder and let out a soft moan and feel his lips curl into a smile. You and Gale had been together for some time now and even still, he pampered you, showered you with love and affection and an almost animalistic, desperate need to have every inch of you. Neither of you could be sated.
“I’ll have to remedy that… unless you’d rather go back to sleep…” he said as his fingers outlined your sex, the cloth now dripping with your arousal. You hear him moan as he feels the wetness and drags his fingers slowly, firmly over your center and you whimper. It makes you squirm and buck your hips into his touch. He chuckles darkly. “Patience… no need to rush… there’s no where for us to be at this hour….”
You lean your head back into him, his face burried in your neck as his fingers trace slow circles around your clothed groin and his fingers hook into the fabric teasingly. “Please..” You hear yourself beg, returned with another black chuckle. Gale’s hot breath on your neck forces goosebumps to rise across you, undulating and revealing your need. Gale uses one hand to turn your face back to him so he can capture your lips hungrily, like a man starved.
You moan as his lips meet yours, the taste of mint and sleep and desire fresh on his tongue as it massages yours, his fingers brushing against the hollow of your neck while the other hand so painfully and delicately massaged your clothed wetness. You squirm and he kisses you harder, pulling you against him and you feel his firm, throbbing erection through his thin cloth.
Gale rolls his tongue over yours once more, biting down on your lower lip and pulling slightly before delicately turning you onto your stomach, your face turned against the sheets. Your eyes roll back as your body braces for what’s to come. You hear Gale grunt and feel his body looming over yours, you feel his fingers against the cloth of your underwear and tease you relentlessly. Although you try to squirm, he is pinning you down and you feel him take a fistful of your hair and comb his fingers through it. His fingers race down your back, to your butt and he gives your firm roundness a pleased and hungry squeeze that makes you yelp. This elicits another moan from him and it makes your mouth water. “I’m being so patient…” you whimper, your hands above your head and grip the sheets as your body braces with anticipation, “Please,” you mewl, begging for him.
“All in good time…” Gale says huskily and once more his fingers trace between the folds of your underwear, not quite touching where you want - where you need him to. You feel feral, unhinged as the lust and arousal pulses through your body, your soaking wetness unbearable. The lightest touch will likely send his name falling from your lips like a prayer of ecstasy. You feel Gale’s lips against your shoulders and he moves down your back as if you’re a sumptuous meal. His lips graze over your raised butt and he gives a hungry bite, marking the skin but just. You whine, pressing your legs together and feel his strong hands pry your legs apart. “I’m not sure I can relieve you if you continue to bar me from entry…” he says this playfully, but the desire is dripping in his tone. You oblige, allowing him to peel your legs apart and push them further. You hear his breath hitch and you feel your hips raise and rock, desperate for him. Desperate for Gale’s touch.
He groans and with his teeth and hands, drags your underwear off of your sex and lowers it, removing it entirely. You shiver as his hands brush up your thighs firmly, squeezing your skin as you feel his hot breath lingering at the source of your arousal. You bite down hard on your lip yet the whimper escapes unintentionally. You feel your clit pulse with desire and feel the flood between your legs when his lips barely brush your inner thigh. You moan, a high pitched mew escaping you when you feel Gale’s warm mouth against your skin, dangerously close to the source of your discomfort and need. You feel him grin and flick his tongue across your inner thigh. “I love it when you beg…” his voice is thick with need and at last you feel his fingers grip into your hips to pull you back towards him so he can feast.
All at once you feel his hot tongue massaging each fold, expertly rolling around your clit and flicking into your throbbing cunt. You cry out and press your face into the bed, your hips bucking backward as he thrusts his face between your thighs as if famished. You feel his groans, the vibrations only heightening your pleasure as you feel him insert his capable fingers into you while his tongue flicked across your outer folds. You cry out and he thrusts his fingers harder into you, suckling at your taste, loving the nosies he draws out of you. You push your hips back into his hungry and greedy mouth and feel his warm, the wetness of his mouth clashing against your throbbing cunt and you squirm relentlessly, your mind swimming and dizzying. “Come for me.” You hear him command and it’s a tone that makes you feral, your carnal and guttural arousal completely unleashing as you grip the sheets and cry out his name, your entire body quaking as your climax roils through you and you press yourself back into his mouth. You feel him lick and suck your climax, his tongue thrusting into your cunt in place of his fingers so he can taste his work. You hear him moan as he tastes your finish, and his breath is jagged, matching yours.
Although sated, you want more. You feel your hips roll back, wanting and you whisper in a raspy voice, “Come here…” Gale doesn’t need further encouragement. You hear him violently rip his underwear from his body and at once he is over you again and he moves you to your side, holding one of your legs up a bit and his eyes bear into yours lustfully. Your lips part and your mouth waters, your gaze flicking to his solid, throbbing erection that sits right at the folds of your throbbing sex. You bite down on your lip and look at Gale beneath your thick lashes and he leans forward to kiss you, desperate to taste you. You taste yourself on his lips and it makes you wild. You feel him press his erection against your folds and you purr, turning your body and he holds you in place. It makes you moan, preparing for him.
Gale deliberately enters you. First with the tip of his ravenous erection and then you see his eyes roll back and resolve falter. He thrusts entirely into you, filling you and touching every sensitive nerve and you cry out. His girth makes you tremble, clench, every fiber of your being insatiable and greedy for more. He groans with delight, gripping you firmly as your bodies find their familiar, sensual rhythm. You roll your hips slowly against him and he groans, flipping you then so that you are beneath him, his knee slightly bent for further purchase. He takes your wrists to hold them over your head as Gale kisses you, the kiss sloppy and wet with need as he thrusts his hips to meet yours, the tip of him pounding against your internal pleasure centers.
“Gale…” you moan, pressing your hips up to his, wanting more, needing more. Gale meets yours eagerly and you feel yourself clench around his shaft and he moans loudly into your mouth. You whisper against his lips, “Now it’s my turn to hear you…” it was too much for him.
"Oh Gods...." His grip on your wrists tighten and you yelp as he roughly and still with such tenderness forces himself as far into you as he can manage until you are both crying out and shuddering with unadulterated bliss. You feel his cock twitch and erupt, the sticky warm fluid filling you as you climax in unison. A thin sheen of sweat covers both of you, your bodies ravaged and exhausted. The soft light of the stars and moon filter through the window, making Gale's skin appear almost effervescent.
Gale collapses onto you, his lips against your neck, your ear, your cheek as he showers you with his love. “Gods, you’re incredible… I will never understand it…" You giggle a bit as he pulls you to him once more, his face nestled into your neck. "Now come here... " you relax into him, your eyes filling with heaviness, the exhaustion and pleasure lulling you back to sleep.
#gale#bg3 brainrot#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 gale#baldurs gate 3#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 smut#bg3 one shot#gale dekarios#god gale#gale of waterdeep#galexyou smut#gale x you#gale x reader afab
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chapter 2: the hunted
Find the masterlist here!
W/C: 2,327
A/N: Have a chapter in honor of my new computer!
Astarion spent the next morning as he always did, sitting just outside his tent with a book in hand. Most of the camp was up and milling about, starting their days by breaking their fasts and groggily wishing each other ‘good morning’s. He made sure to stay away from it all, as usual, but watched the proceedings with a keen eye and a great sense of unease. His attention kept flitting back and forth between the ever growing gaggle of his awakened traveling companions and your darkened tent.
He felt a sense of dread inch its fingers up his spine, cold and unyielding, the more time passed without your lively and authoritative presence to command the group of companions. The sun’s reach expanded well over the horizon now, and it was so very unlike you to have a lie in, no matter the circumstances.
Oh gods, did I go too far last night? What if I killed her?!
Just as he prepared himself to go check on you, lest he find you dead at his hand, you popped your head out of your tent. You raised an arm against the onslaught of daylight and blinked blearily, running a hand down your face to dash the sleep from your eyes. Astarion sighed audibly in relief, until your now-focused gaze found him. Dread’s icy grip once again clutched at him, stealing his breath anew.
This is it. This is where I’ll be tossed.
You made a beeline for him, taking care to avoid drawing the attention of the other companions. Astarion slipped into his familiar guise of nonchalance, preparing himself for his inevitable departure. He made to stand when you stopped a few feet from him.
“Good morning,” he began with a coy smile, “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine, if a bit woozy,” you waved noncommittally. “And you? How do you feel?”
Astarion’s false confidence crumbled in an instant, blanching at your question.
“How… how do I feel? My dear, I’m not the one that had a leech to their throat last night!”
“That’s rather beside the point, leech,” you giggled. “Now, do you plan on answering me? Or are you simply going to stand there agape like a dead fish?”
“I suppose I feel… well. Superb, even!” he giggled back.
“Wonderful! Any idea how long this will last?” you pointed to your head, no doubt referencing the foggy sensation clouding your thoughts.
“It’ll pass,” he flicked his hand dismissively. “Just be grateful I’m not a ‘true’ vampire. A bite from them and you might wake up as a vampire spawn, like my good self,” he leaned forward, voice hushed, “All of a vampire’s hunger, but few of their powers.”
He heaved a dejected sigh at the reminder.
You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile toying at your lips, “Oh? Any other drawbacks I should be aware of?”
“That’s the odd thing: standing in the sun, wading through rivers, wandering into homes without an invitation - they’re all perfectly mundane activities now, things I never could have done before the tadpole. Seems someone, or something, has changed the rules. If only Cazador were here so I might laugh in his face before I rip it off,” he laughed heartily - then abruptly cut himself short, a shard of terror lancing through his thoughts at having revealed too much.
You raised an inquisitive eyebrow, studying him, but did not press.
“Nonetheless, it’s a stroke of good fortune to have a vampire on our side. I meant what I said, I am excited to see you fight,” you intoned softly, dropping your arms.
“Oh yes, and now I can fight with all my weapons,” he responded with a devious smirk, fangs glinting in the bright morning sun. “If I drain a bandit dry every now and again, it isn’t as if they weren’t destined to meet their maker anyway.”
You laughed, loud and full, at his witty remark. He was surprised to find that it stirred a delightful warmth in his chest, a feeling unfamiliar to him.
“I’m just glad you’re being sensible about these… revelations. I was worried people might turn up with torches and pitchforks,” he began with a smile, though it was rapidly erased as he noticed the other companions wandering into earshot with a mixed array of expressions.
“Although, there’s still time,” he nodded over your shoulder gravely. He watched intently as your expression hardened and you turned to face the horde.
“A vampire among us? So be it. But should I wake with so much as a drop of blood on my neck, I will end him,” Lae’zel snarled.
“I’d just better not wake in the night to find fangs at my throat,” Shadowheart scoffed with disdain.
“Of course we’re traveling with a vampire,” Gale threw his hands up in exasperation, then pointed at him menacingly, “A word of warning, Astarion: I taste absolutely awful!”
You looked at him over your shoulder, and whatever you saw on his face steeled your resolve.
“I trust him,” you said, voice hardened and posture defensive. “Besides, like it or not, we need him. And there’s no need to worry about the safety of your necks. He’s got mine.”
You turned your head and bared his bite mark to your companions. A round of hushed murmurs and surprised faces met your bold confession to his feeding. If he could blush, he would be red from the tips of his ears to his toes in mortification at what your words implied.
“Well, now that’s settled, we should be getting on our way. Karlach, Astarion, Shadowheart, you’re with me. We’re to find the witch, Ethel, today,” you finished with a nod, effectively dismissing the group.
Astarion continued to stare at the back of your head in shock, and you turned to face him again, an inquisitive look adorning the fine features of your face once more.
“I…” he began, but petered out, unsure of what to say.
You snorted and turned to stride back towards your tent, presumably to stock your bag for the day.
He reached out to stop you instinctively and grabbed at your shoulder. You flinched uncharacteristically and froze on the spot, and he ripped his hand away as though scalded.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he mumbled as you turned toward him again. The look you regarded him with was far icier than before, the lingering warning of a threat still causing your pulse to flutter.
“S’fine,” you mutter. “Out with it.”
“I… just wanted to thank you. Again,” he finished lamely, waving his hands awkwardly at his sides.
“Don’t mention it,” you said gruffly, then finally strode away to your tent and began donning your armor.
Puzzled by your reaction, he watched you pack for a few moments too long.
______________________________________________________________
“It’s so unpleasantly muggy in these parts, and there are so many bloody bugs,” he whined, swatting at the air around him.
“Does the big, bad, bitey monster fear a taste of his own medicine?” Shadowheart mocked, deepening his scowl.
“Don’t worry, Astarion. They won’t bite you; you’re dead, remember?” you quipped with a cheeky grin.
Just as a retort reached his lips, you stopped dead in your tracks and raised an arm - a signal to await your command.
“What is it?” he whispered apprehensively.
You hushed him, scanning the sunny fields of wildflowers surrounding the group.
“Illusion magic. This isn’t real,” you murmured. As if triggered by your words, the grassy knolls give way to reveal a bog, fetid with the stench of death and decay.
“Oh lovely!” he chirped sarcastically, “I always did want to rot in a bog!”
You shot a glare at him and signaled the group to continue onward. The change in landscape was drastic; where once there were flowers, now fungi resided, drawing sustenance from the mossy trunks of felled trees. The sunlight had vanished into humid gloom, and the sheep that had been quietly grazing were revealed as redcaps, feasting on the corpses of their victims.
Karlach’s eyes almost bugged out of her skull, raising her greataxe in preparation for a fight.
“Ignore them,” you waved at her. “They think we still see sheep.”
She nodded gravely.
The group continued through the putrid haze of the bog, avoiding the redcaps and picking through half-rotted remains for loot, when they happened upon a man fletching crossbow bolts. Astarion smelled him before he saw him, and a flare of panic shot through him.
The Gur.
He watched you wrinkle your nose as you called out in greeting.
“Ah, stranger!” the man called back, noticing your sour expression. “Forgive the aroma. Powdered iron-vine, an old hunter’s trick. Most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.”
Against his better judgment, Astarion piped up, “You’re a monster hunter? I’m surprised - I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats.”
He sneered at the man in front of him, no doubt an errand boy for Cazador, meant to drag him back for judgment at his master’s mercy. What were the odds, a lone Gur hunter this far from Baldur’s Gate? It was surely a message meant for him alone.
“Pardon, but who - or what - is a Gur?” you interjected, posture defensive and coiled to spring.
“A mystical and dangerous people who travel the land, never settling in one place,” the man flourished with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “We steal your chickens, curse your crops, seduce your daughters… your friend here has heard it all, I’m sure,” he gestured at Astarion.
Astarion fought the urge to bare his fangs.
“I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas, I am a simple wanderer,” the man dismissed, “A simple wanderer and monster hunter. But I am no witch doctor or cutthroat.”
“So what monster are you hunting, then?” you bit back.
It was as though Astarion couldn’t help but draw the attention back to himself despite all of the warning bells ringing in his ears, his nerves causing him to prattle on.
“Something terrifying, no doubt! Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?”
“Nothing so dramatic,” the man scoffed, “I’m hunting for a vampire spawn.”
Astarion felt his face fall in panic and caught your subtle glance in his peripheral vision.
I knew it! Just when things were beginning to look up…
“His name is Astarion, but I think he’s gone to ground. I was hoping the hag of these lands could help me flush him out, if I can afford her blood price.”
“And when you find this ‘Astarion’? You’ll, what, kill him?” you asked, subtly lowering your stance in preparation for a fight.
“Not this time. My orders are to capture him,” the man replied, eyeing you more warily by the moment.
“Oh, and bring him where, exactly?” Astarion questioned, trying his best to keep the fear from lacing into his words.
“Baldur’s Gate. My people wait for me there.”
“A vampire spawn doesn’t seem worth the hunt. It’s not like he’s a real vampire,” you added, trying to wheedle more information from the Gur hunter.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your throat if he felt like it,” Astarion snarled, unable to help himself at the slight.
Shut up! You’re going to give yourself away!
Astarion’s fingers twitched, longing to feel the familiar weight of his dagger in hand. His mind was racing, addled with the lingering sensations of dread and rage like so many unwanted hands clawing at him, his skin crawled with it.
The man, taking no apparent notice, continued talking to you.
“He is right, unfortunately. They are only weak when compared to their masters. During the day, we have the advantage! But at night, when they hunt? You will not find a more deadly quarry,” he finished, expression carrying a grave countenance.
Astarion caught your gaze, clearly calculating your next move. Whatever you saw in his face - fear, loathing, fury, he knew not what - made your mind up.
“Interesting, indeed,” you said, holding his eye. “Astarion, what do you think?”
“What? No, it isn’t possible! It’s daylight!” the man exclaimed, looking between you and Astarion.
Astarion ignored the bewildered hunter, a vicious, fanged smile contorting his face as he pulled his dagger.
“I think the hunter has become the hunted,” he growled, and then lunged at the Gur, plunging his dagger hard into the man’s throat.
Karlach gave a great shout of indignation, and Shadowheart gasped in surprise. You, however, did nothing more than cross your arms over your chest, mouth set in a grim line.
With no reaction time to reach for his crossbow, the man stumbled back, pawing weakly at the blade protruding from his neck. A bright scarlet stain spread across the front of his worn doublet, and with a final anguished gurgle, he collapsed into the muck.
“What in the Nine Hells did you do that for!” Karlach screeched at him.
He opened his mouth to reply, but the words that came were not his.
“He was a threat to our own. He had to be neutralized.”
Astarion looked up at you shrewdly, scrutinizing you for any deception, but found none. Neither did he find any betrayal of disgust or fear in your expression, only wry determination to protect your companions above all else.
“The deed’s done,” you said with an air of finality, looking down at Astarion crouched by the body of the fallen hunter wiping his dagger clean. “On we get to find Ethel, no doubt the hag the hunter spoke of.”
The rest of the group grumbled their assent and started moving, but Astarion was held firmly in place by the look in your eyes. A new kind of anxiety gnawed in the pit of his stomach.
He could read the many questions held in that one look, and he knew the time had come for further explanation once you regrouped at camp later that night.
#bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion#tav#lae'zel#shadowheart#gale of waterdeep#karlach#astarion pov#unnamed tav#no use of y/n#reader insert#afab tav#bard tav#trauma#angst#astarion needs a hug#but so does tav#soft astarion#past abuse#past torture#slow burn#au canon divergence
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The Suprise Visitor Afab Black Reader X Halsin
Summary - You have always been of the Grid and living freely but one day you found an injured Bear and took him back to Your place but in the morning, you found a man in its place.
Warning - Nudeness, Shapeshifting, Mid gore and blood.
A/n I had no ending idea, but I enjoyed making this ♡
It was past sunset around where the moon would come out to play, and now it was the time to get a flower that only bloomed at night. walking barefoot through the wet grass the white dress sleeves fell loose around her arms the basket was being held up the herbs and stranded flowers loose in the basket.
You forgot to grab some flowers and herbs earlier that day you were busy helping some older woman healing their wounds, at times you will help people for gold. That was a rare occasion only when tight with coin.
The Wind pushed her loose hair back when she decided to walk deeper in the woods you knew you were not going to get lost of course, not you knew the woods like the back of your palm.
You had to thank your mother for that at such a young age she had made sure every aspect of the woods and the hidden places that you knew off so if you got lost you knew the way back.
Branches snapped under your bare feet, the dirt sneak into your skin and you never did mind you were always taught to embrace what nature gave you Lathander had sacrifice many things for you to be happy where you are.
Walking further in the wood, there was a gruesome scream. In a blink, you bend down, grabbing the dagger that was tied around your thigh. Standing your ground, you had followed the scream many things were telling you not to go over there, but your worship as a cleric was saying to help anyone you could.
"Hello?" You said walking to the area where a waterfall was falling down behind the gore that you saw, setting the dagger back not seeing any threat around you.
"Oh, by the Gods." Mumbling, your eyes fell over to the Iron Fist dead body. Why were they here they never crossed into the woods their territory was in the lower city? And they were never hostile. Why did they attack.
Walking closer to the Waterfall you could see an animal cover in blood your instincts took over mumbling a chant to Lathander a blue aura went around the bear who was bleeding the wounds that came from the iron fist swords healed up.
You hoped it worked, and when the bear eyes open, you fell from a crouching position to flat on the floor. "I don't mean you any harm." Your voice wavered from fear to anxiety, your hands held up in surrender. The beast could barely get up even with the chant that was spoken, your stomach fell in your throat, and you frowned, seeing the pain in the bears eyes.
"Is it okay if i take you back to my place?" you said sitting on the ground you hand went to brush over his round ear, he didn't fight agents it he nodded his head, and you knew it would be the best to bring him back that were all your herbs was, so that what you did.
The night fell to midnight, passing out agents the table where you normally did a lot of your potions and medicine.
Leaning agents your hand that was holding your head up, your eyes fluttering open from hearing a sound forgetting that you had saved a poor bear the day before.
Hearing the crash from your shelf you walked over about to grab the Mace that she barley use but right now sounded like a good time to use it.
Holding the Mace in one hand you walked closer to where the noise was it seemed liked, they were robing her herb shelf she wasn't sure.
"Oh gods!" Yelping and before she covers eyes, you saw the tall man his brown hair was tucked in a ponytail in the back, some scars more like scratch's going straight down his back.
"Oh, by the Oak farther!" his voice ranged out and when he turned around you cover your eyes before anything else could be shown, cheeks brighter than tomatoes.
"Are you okay?" your voice rang out like a mouse compared to his own voice. The silence spoke and when he spoke again a small smile grace your face. "I am so sorry just clumsy.''
you snicker and walk over to the Wardrope picking up some male cloths for him.
The Druid turned his body and walked closer to your small frame, his scent smell like Pine and Peppermint.
"Did I scare you?" he says his voice deep and sweet. You open your big hazel eyes and nodded seeing him put over the shirt you gave him, the gash up his rib's barley healing.
you turned around and moved to the herbs and table that was filled with random toxic plants healing and much more healing herbs.
you could still see the gash that was on his stomach.'' A little bit but i was excepting you just as a bear" you teased and he laughed.
"Is it too late to tell you i am druid my name Halsin" You nodded moving around the tables and grabbing the grinder to grind the herbs as you gave him your name snickering at his humor.
It was silenced has you were working around the table and making a herbal medicine "Thank you for saving me" Halsin said.
Shaking your head "Why wouldn't I you were helpless and alone " You walked closer "can you lift up your shirt" Halsin had to look down at you to look at your eyes, no one made you nervous when you first met them, but he did.
Your small hand scoops the medicine in your hand running the cold substance on the gash "how do you know so much about medicine?"
Smiling and pushing the loose strands of hair that fell from your face "My mother was cleric, and my father was a druid" He hummed "maybe i should get injured more often" he chuckles, and you laugh.
"Just let it dry, okay?" you walked over to the fireplace. "If you're in no rush, i am cooking like to stay." Halsin walked as he slipped over the shirt."Only if you have me, I love too."
#baulders gate 3#gale of waterdeep#karlack bg3#astarion#cleric tav#small account#dnd character#dungeons and dragons#for fun#fluff#halsin#the grove#halsin x tav#halsin x reader#afab reader#poc cleric
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AO3 Masterpost
New to this, so no idea how I should format this
Most of the stuff on my account right now is old, completely abandoned, probably cringy, so explore at your own peril — but here's my more recent stuff.
(You can also ask my WIPs)
Baldur's Gate 3
FWB (Friends with Beets)
Default Dark Urge/Trans Enver Gortash
Dead Three's Dream Team
An AU where Ascendant Astarion is Myrkul's Chosen, Gale is Bane's Chosen, and the three of you had a relationship and formed the Absolute plot together.
Reader is Durge: AFAB, gender neutral, literally whatever vanilla race you want (make sure you read the notes and have the appropriate option active). Class is irrelevant.
Sexually explicit one-shots, with a bit of plot stringing them together. You can read as a series, or just one offs if only some interest you.
The Vampire Lord
Astarion/Reader, amnesia, virginity kink
The Ambitious Wizard
Gale/Reader, bloody sex, dom!Durge, service top Gale
Mirror
Astarion/Reader/Gale, shape-shifting, Astarion selfcest
Throne
Astarion/Reader/Gale, public nudity, spanking, throne sex
A Willing Sacrifice
AFAB, gender neutral reader, non-scaly tall race. Sexually explicit
Astarion/Reader/Gale, roleplay, god-lite!Gale accepts an offering in exchange for helping spawn!Astarion walk in the sun
Avatar
Learning to Breathe
Quaritch/Spider. Unrated (blurs the line between mature and explicit. This one's plot focused)
Role reversal AU, good Navi!Quaritch, hybrid!Spider, pseudo incest, ftm Spider
#ao3 fanfic#masterlist#afab character#afab reader#non binary#transgender#transmasc#baldur's gate 3#astarion#gale dekarios#dark urge#astarion x reader#gale x reader#avatar james cameron#recom quaritch#spider socorro#enver gortash#dark urge x gortash
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bathing.
𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).
𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.
𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?
𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.
“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”
Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.
They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.
It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.
The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.
“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”
A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”
“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”
Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.
Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”
(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)
Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.
“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.
“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”
Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.
You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.
Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.
You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?
(You hope so.)
Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.
A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.
The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.
They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.
“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”
Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.
Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.
“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.
“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”
“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”
As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.
The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.
Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.
“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”
They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.
“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”
Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!
“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”
“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.
“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.
You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.
Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 x reader#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#gale x reader#halsin x reader#tavrem#as they say#this was fun to write#this was very lame actually#sorry but its been so so so long since ive written a fic much less published it
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Unexpected, But Not Unwelcome
Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader/Tav
A/N: based on this request - god I literally wrote this the second that I got it lol. Gale was the perfect one to write this request for imo and it was such a pleasure!
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: pregnant reader, slight angst, pregnancy, fluff.
The longer you’ve lived in Waterdeep the more you start to understand why the balcony outside the study is Gales' chosen spot in his tower.
You still remember the slight shock you felt when you first arrived to see the space was exactly like the illusion he showed you all those months ago.
Now it’s also become your place of solace, much to the wizards delight.
“Views like this are much better enjoyed with company. And I couldn’t wish for a better half to spend it with.”
The balcony is swathed in deep orange light, the sun slowly creeping towards the horizon, the bottom just barely kissing the edge of sea way out in the distance. Her fading rays dance along the calm bay waters, the only disturbance to its surface being the few ships leaving or entering port.
‘What do they carry?’ you wonder.
Fine silks and clothing? Or perhaps rare spices from across the world. It’s a game you find yourself playing more often than not whenever you sit out here. But now…
Now it’s all you can do to try and focus on the ships, your mind constantly flitting back to the news you were given earlier in the day.
You’d missed your monthly cycle a few weeks back, and while it wasn’t immediately alarming, that along with other symptoms finally made you decided to seek out a healer.
Gale had told you of his plans to spend the day at Sorcerers Sundries, looking for a specific tome for research he was working on. So, today was the perfect day to slip away unnoticed. You didn’t want to worry your husband unnecessarily, but now you want nothing more than for him to be home, the news eating away at you.
You’re pregnant.
It’s honestly nothing you’ve ever truly thought about. Before the tadpoles, you’d been alone, just living day to day in Baldur’s Gate. Then of course the whole tadpole incident happened and then…you met Gale and fell in love and started to build a life with him here, in Waterdeep.
You’re honestly surprised the topic never came up. But now, with it staring you in the face…a sense of uncertainty settles deep in your belly.
Tara noticed immediately of course, aware of your unusual quietness as you retreated to the balcony as soon as you got home. You’d found yourself spilling the news to the intelligent cat as soon as she asked, her deep eyes softening ever so slightly as she jumped in your lap and curled up.
You couldn’t help but sense a wave of excitement coming from her, though. A sense that somewhat calmed you despite the nerves running wild in your mind.
That was a few hours ago, Tara hasn’t moved from her spot, lounging peacefully as you stroked her fur and watch the ships glide across the water.
Only the very distant sound of the tower door opening and closing, and Gales faint greeting finally pulls you from your thoughts, that anxiety creeping back in full force as you tense.
Tara sits up as well, stretching and letting out an enviable yawn. You wish you could be that relaxed.
“Relax, dear,” Tara says gently, nuzzling your hand before turning to jump from your lap. “I feel you have nothing to be worried about.”
She turned and pads towards the inside of the tower just as Gale appears in the archway, stopping to offer her a welcoming scratch before she disappears.
He sends you a warm smile as he rights himself, approaching and taking a seat next to you on the padded bench, arm wrapping around your waist instinctively as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“How was your day, my love?” He asks, nose nuzzling your cheek.
You smile, realizing it doesn’t quite reach your eyes past the anxiety roiling in your chest. “It was good,” you tell him, not completely lying but not offering the full truth either. “How was your adventure to Sorcerer’s Sundries?”
At the mention of the bookstore Gale’s eyes light up as he tells you about what he found. Slowly, as he talks about the new information he found regarding his research, you both maneuver into a more comfortable position. Gale moves to lay across the length of the padded bench, leaning against the armrest as you settle between his legs, back resting against his chest.
His arms wrap loosely around your middle, hands resting over your stomach, completely unaware of the life that’s now growing there.
His words fade into the background as your mind starts to wander again, your hands moving to rest atop his own, your fingers slipping to toy with the simple gold band around his ring finger.
You don’t truly have many worries about the news. You know that Gale will weather anything with you but…you don’t want this to be a storm, or anything negative. What if Gale doesn’t want children? What if he pulls away from you when you tell him the news or is just as scared as you feel?
Soft lips against your neck pull you from your thoughts, familiar fingers slipping between your own to give them a squeeze.
“I know my research ramblings can at times be boresome. However, you seem to be lost to me more than usual this evening.” His words are gentle with just a touch of amusement as rests his head against yours. “What’s on your mind?”
You don’t respond right away, your nerves at an all time high and making your already tumultuous stomach even more uneasy. You squeeze his hand in yours.
“I went to see a healer today.”
Gale’s arms tighten around you, and you can feel the way he sits up straighter, your words concerning him.
“A healer? I didn’t even notice - are you sick?” He asks, worry clear in his voice. “I cannot believe I was so preoccupied I failed to take note of-“
You tug on the sleeve of his robes, holding him tighter to you. “I’m not sick. At least not…” You trail off, taking your lip between your teeth.
Gale urges you on with a gentle press of his lips to your shoulder, and that action alone seems to calm the raging sea of anxiety within you.
“I’m with child, Gale.”
The silence that follows your revelation feels oppressive. The only sounds meeting your ears being the lapping of waves against the shore and the distant call of gulls in the air.
Emotion clogs your throat as you clutch his hand. “Please…say something.”
You sit up then, turning to face the man behind you, but before you can fully do so, two strong arms wrap around you and bring you to your feet. Your surroundings turn into a blur around you as Gale spins you through the air, boisterous laughter falling from his lips until he brings you to a stop, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss.
His lips are warm and his arms secure as he holds you to him, as if afraid this would all fade away if he were to let you go.
Heat floods your cheeks when he pulls away, elation adorning his features as he looks at you, eyes glowing with an utter joy you’ve never quite seen on him before. He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks.
“I’m going to be a father? We’re going to have a child?” He asks, whispering the words in unbelieving reverence.
The smile that splits your lips is almost painful, any and all anxiety dissipating from you as you take in his reaction.
“Yes they…The healer said I would start showing soon, and if we want…Towards the end of the pregnancy they should be able to tell us the gender,” you tell him, hands grasping at the fabric of his robe.
Gale smiles wider, hands falling down to cradle your stomach and the new life that sits there.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says gently. “They will be loved either way, and no doubt a powerful wielder of the weave if I have anything to say about it.”
You can’t stop the chuckle that slips past your lips, and the surprising happy tears that fall down your cheeks. Gale notices the streaks immediately, smile faltering ever so slightly as he reaches back up to wipe the tears away.
“Why the tears? This is a joyous occasion, we should be celebrating!”
You shake your head, reaching up to place your hand atop his own as you turn to press a kiss to his palm. “They aren’t tears of grief…I was worried. Worried about telling you. I didn’t…we’ve never talked about children.”
Your husband smiles gently, eyes reassuring as he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I can admit that this news was unexpected, but it’s…it is not unwelcome,” he tells you, eyes bright once more. “I’ve never given much thought to children because of everything that had consumed my mind in the past and then you appeared in my life and took over the rest of my thoughts,” he laughs. “But this…” He presses his hands to your belly again. “This is more than I could have ever asked for. More than any power I’ve ever dreamed of having. I find myself filled with indescribable joy at the thought of creating a life with you - a family.”
You press your lips to his as soon as the words leave his lips, pulling him impossibly closer until you break away to nuzzle into the space between his head and shoulder, excitement and happiness threatening to burst from your chest.
“I love you, Gale Dekarios.” You say, smiling as he pulls you tighter against him. “I can’t wait to start a family with you.”
You move to speak, but the presence of a familiar winged feline interrupts you as Tara rushes onto the balcony, wiggling happily.
“Oh my!” She exclaims, weaving between yours and Gale’s legs before jumping effortlessly up to perch on his shoulder as you both separate. “This is most exciting! Another Dekarios, can you believe it?” She asks, turning to Gale. “Hopefully this one won’t light himself on fire like you did all those years ago.”
You watch in amusement as Gale flushes a light shade of pink, flicking Tara’s ear playfully. “I was just starting to learn to master the weave! And I was eight, you can hardly blame me.”
You chuckle at their antics and reach up to card your hands through his hair at the nape of his neck, drawing his attention back to you.
“Well, they will have the best teacher. There’s no telling what they will accomplish with you as their guide.”
Gale smiles, leaning down to kiss you one last time before embracing you once more.
“We’ll guide them together.”
You hum in agreement, basking in the golden rays of the setting sun, the snapping of sails echoing across the water as you whisper against his skin.
“Together.”
Tags:
@dark-and-kawaii
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sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader
(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always
my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.
2k words
Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.
“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer.
“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.
“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.
One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more.
He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing.
“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there.
“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.”
“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.
“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”
The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you.
His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back.
You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders.
Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.
“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.
“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”
“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.”
His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”
You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. “Mhm.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips.
Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body.
“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.
He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.
Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.
And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.
He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”
“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.”
He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”
He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.
---
The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.
He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.
His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him.
God forbid he won’t deliver.
He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off.
His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.
He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.
---
Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.
Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel.
You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.
Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind.
The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot.
Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin.
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”
“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come.
He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.
When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.
“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”
His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.”
“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”
He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”
You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip.
“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.”
He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug.
“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”
He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart.
He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.
He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”
He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled.
He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”
You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material.
“Gale,” you whimper.
He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent.
He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.
“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“
“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.”
He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
“I want you all to myself,” he grits.
You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves.
Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching.
Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you.
You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist.
“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage.
“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk.
“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?”
“Mhmm…”
“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”
You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—
Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.
#gale x reader#bg3 gale#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#gale x tav#baldurs gate gale#gale bg3#gale dekarios smut#bg3
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Kinktober Day 13: Size - Tutor!Miguel x AFAB!Reader 🎃
can you tell i hate my math class this sem ?? :D
CW: unspecified age gap (reader is in college miguel is in grad school), trauma inducing stats vocabulary, piv (unprotected don’t be stupid), creampie (don’t be stupid), mean miguel, harsh grabbing, fingering (kinda), finger sucking, general size difference.
18+ MDNI
It was getting late, you and your roommates Machi and Gale having dinner with you. You huffed, slumping in the chair you sat on.
“This is such bullshit, I’ve been stuck on this problem for like half an hour already. Nothing’s clicking.” You pushed your dinner aside and looked at Gale for reassurance. She tilted her head at you with a raised brow.
“Girl, you know damn well I’m not getting it either. Just call it quits for tonight, it's not due for another two days.” She said, sipping a chilled can of coke.
“Oh, come on. Neither of us are understanding this shit. I mean, this symbol looks like a backwards three! I miss when math used to just have numbers,” you complained, squinting at the statistics homework in front of you.
“That looks ridiculous,” Machi laughed. “Never have I been more glad to be an arts major.” She said, getting up to put her dish away.
“If it bothers you that much, why don’t you just visit the tutoring lab? I think they’re still open.” Gale said, grabbing your dish and following Machi to the sink.
“Really?” You asked, checking your watch. 8 pm.
“Hey, we pay thousands of dollars in tuition, okay? If they can’t stay open or help when students need it what's the point in taking all that money from us?” Gale shrugged. You sighed, standing up from your chair.
“Well, I guess I better get moving if I want to make it to the tutoring center before 10. Let me know if you guys need anything while I’m out.” You grabbed your keys and left the apartment after grabbing your bag and slipping your shoes back on.
_____________________________________________________
You arrived at the building, glass doors sliding open as you walked through them, the cold air conditioning giving you goosebumps. You walked over to the sign in sheet, looking through available tutors for the next hour or so.
“Crap…” You sighed, looking through the sheets. It seemed like you needed an appointment before hand, at least electronically.
There was the sound of laughter down the hall, you turned your head towards the sound. There was a much larger man along with a guy who seemed about your age. You recognized the shorter individual from your statistics class.
“Well, I’m glad we could get your problem figured out.” The tall man said, a big hand patting the younger guy's back heavily.
“Yeah, it only took us all night.” More laughter.
“Hey, if its due in two days all night is nothing.” The tall, tanned man said. He was massive, you could practically see his muscles bulging underneath his white buttoned shirt. His chocolate hair slicked back, a few strands messily framing his face. You were in a trance when his almost red eyes met yours. You felt your face flush.
“U-Uh, Hey! You’re in my statistics class arent you?” You asked the shorter guy, desperately avoiding the older mans gaze. The shorter guy said your name questioningly, you nodded.
“Yeah, thats me.” You said, clutching your bag tighter. “So… you got help with the homework?” You asked, motioning to the taller man.
“Oh yeah, this is Miguel.” He said, patting Miguels back.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” You said, grabbing his large hand and shaking it. You felt your palms become sweatier, his hand practically enveloping yours. “I didn’t see your name under the statistics sign up sheet.” You said, voice almost trembling.
“Well as a grad student my major is scientific research so that's why I’m not under statistics.” He said, a slight smirk across his face, his grip on your hand becoming tighter.
“O-oh,” you said softly.
“But I use statistics in almost everything I do, so I can help out with any problems you’ve got if you need it.”
“Miguel’s not a bad tutor, it only took us so long to finish cause I haven’t shown up to class in weeks.” Your classmate laughed. “I’ve got to get out of here but thanks for your help, man.” He waved before walking out the sliding doors into the dark night.
You and Miguel turned to each other, you suddenly felt very nervous.
“So… Would you… tutor me?” You asked, rubbing your arms for warmth.
“Well, it's not quite 10 yet and I don’t have any other sign-ups, so why not?” He shrugged, walking down the hall with you following after him.
You two walked down the hall, reaching a small study room at the end of it.
“This is the room I reserved for the night, so don’t worry about anyone coming in here super late and trying to steal it from us.” He said, opening it up for you to walk through.
You walked into the room, a table with a few chairs in the center with a whiteboard behind it. It seemed fine to you as you walked in, sitting down on a chair, slightly taken aback when it rolled underneath your weight. You looked down and noticed wheels at the feet of the chair. You looked up again when you heard the door shut, Miguel locking it behind him.
_______________________________________________
“And that's why your z score is going to be 20.99. Does that make sense?” He asked. You were fucked.
The whole time you were supposed to be paying attention you were completely distracted by his being. He sat next to you, his large frame practically caging you in between him and the desk. He was everywhere, and if you weren’t staring directly at the paper, you were scared you were going to faint. You nodded, eyes looking down at the problem, refusing to tear away from the mathematical mess you made.
“Yeah…”
“Then tell me how you got it.” He said, deep voice rumbling in his big chest.
“Well, first you uh…” You circled a random number in the world problem then looked up at him with helpless eyes. He raised a brow.
“You start with the standard deviation?” He asked, clearly unamused.
“Well… You definitely use it somewhere…” You said half joking. Miguel was still unamused. He sighed deeply, throwing his head into his hand.
“I’ll explain it one more time, okay?” He said, grabbing the pencil from your hand. His hand brushed against yours and held your pencil as if it were a toothpick to him. “So, we’ve identified the mew, right?” He asked, underlining the foreign symbol.
“Yeah…” You said, asking yourself what the fuck is a mew?
You were determined to stay focused but that man made it difficult. You turned to look at him while his eyes were fixed onto the paper, scribbling out equations and typing into your calculator- which he also made look puny in his grasp. You watched him as he spoke, the way his soft lips moved as he talked, revealing sharp canines every now and then between words. You felt your face flush, entranced by his presence. You eyed his large shoulders, following them down to his massive arms. You looked back up at his face, admiring his features while he was so deep in thought. He looked down at you.
“So now we just divide and… hey?” he said almost harshly. “Are you paying attention?” He asked in a snarky tone. You felt your face drop.
“I… um…”
“Distracted again?” He tossed the pencil onto the surface of the table, muscular arms crossing as he almost glared at you.
“I’m sorry.” You felt exhausted, covering your face with your hands in defeat. You felt like crying.
“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on undressing me with your eyes and more focused on these problems, you’d understand this shit by now.” He grunted. You stilled, face buried deep into your palms before you peered at him through between your fingertips.
“W…What?” You asked, looking at his almost red eyes.
“I said what I said.” Miguel's voice was low, he grabbed your seat and pulled it towards him, the wheels moving you with ease. You felt your core tighten, as your face continued to burn hot, regardless of the air conditioning.
Miguel's eyes practically violated you, staring deep past your own and into your soul before looking you up and down, clearly enjoying how you cowered.
“That pretty little head not used to thinking this hard?” he asked low in your ear. You shuddered, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. “Pathetic.”
He grabbed your waist with his large hands, daring to crush you between his palms. He slowly stood up from his chair, face inches away from yours. You took that as invitation enough and crashed your lips into his, those soft lips felt even better than you imagined, a whimper escaping your lips as his grip increased. He pulled you off of the chair and slammed you onto the table, papers flying and pens scattering around you. You let out a grunt as the air escaped your lungs from the impact.
“I’m taking time out of my night to try and teach you this shit and you can't even meet me halfway and try to learn it?” He huffs yanking down your frumpy sweats to your ankles. You kicked them off, laying on the table in your tight shirt and panties.
“I-I’m sorry, you're just so-” he cut you off with two thick fingers plunging into your mouth, you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. He smirked, watching you drag your tongue around the knuckles of his fingers.
“That ought to shut you up.” He ran a finger from his other hand to your clothed cunt, you moaned around his thick digits when he caressed your clit. Your hips moved on their own accord, grinding against his large hand. “Would you look at that? I didn’t know they accepted whores into this school.” Miguel hummed, voice smooth like honey and deep like an ocean.
His single finger moved to where your pussy and thigh met, yanking aside your black cotton panties to reveal your wet cunt, which clenched around nothing at the sudden cold air.
“Jesus… I bet you were thinking about this all night, huh?” Miguel teased, the calloused tip of his finger just barely grazing along your seeping hole, spreading the warm slick higher and higher up your folds until he could smear it along your sensitive bud, eliciting another moan from behind his drooly fingers.
“Needy, aren’t we?” Miguel withdrew his fingers from your mouth while his other hand unzipped his dress pants, the metal of his belt buckle clanking together as he pulled it out of its loops. The belt hit the floor with a small thud and with his drool-soaked fingers he freed his massive cock and ran the slippery fingers up and down his shaft.
Miguel tore your underwear off of you, as if it was like taking a sticker off a piece of fruit. You felt yourself drip down your thighs, unsure whether or not it was okay to touch yourself while watching this Greek god of a man pleasure himself with your spit, watching your tense cunt beg him to stuff it.
“Like what you see?” He asked, slipping his finger into his mouth and moaning long and deep when he tasted your sweet slick on his tongue. You nodded vigorously, grabbing one of your tits to entice him even further. “Why don’t you take that off while we’re ahead?”
You quickly tossed off your shirt and bra, completely naked on the desk. Miguel softly laughed, watching how nicely you obeyed him.
“You're too easy, y’know that?” With a few more pumps to his shaft, he harshly grabbed one of your thighs and spread your legs even further, admiring your wet pussy.
The moan you two let out when he put his cock inside of you could've been heard by the whole building if it hadn't been well past 10 pm and everyone had gone for the day. His girthy member dared to split you in half, the sheer size of him was far too much to handle, especially all at one. We watched with pleasure as your breathy moans turned into agonized whimpers the further he drove into you. When he had finally gone balls deep inside of you, there was an obvious cock bulge deep inside of you as he stretched out your pussy wonderfully.
“M-Miguel…” You sighed, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.
“Oh, so this can keep your attention but me slaving away on your homework can’t?” He smugly asked, pulling out before slamming into you with a grunt. You wailed, scratching the hard surface of the desk underneath you, crumpling stray pieces of scratch paper into your palm while arching your back.
Miguel started at a rough pace, making room out of your tight pussy for his intimidating cock, juices slicking the shaft of his member, and sounds of your wet pussy gushing paired with the creaking of the table filled the room, moans, and mewls adding to euphonious music of your fucking.
“So fucking tight… so fucking tiny… I bet I could fold you like a pretzel,” He said amusingly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pushing the fronts of them against your chest. You cried out loud, new depth being explored by his commanding dick while he used you for his pleasure.
With his massive hands, he spread his fingers out, his thumbs on the backs of your thighs and his four fingers on the small of your back, grabbing onto you so he could bring you up and down on his deep thrusts.
You were seeing stars at this point, scared your arousal would drip onto your homework papers and soil all the progress you’ve made. But it didn’t matter anymore when you threw your head back onto the table and shook in his hands, pussy clenching around his meaty cock and milking him for his own cum.
“Ngh- What did I say? Easy…” He moaned, thrusting inside of you a few more times before he shot a huge load inside of your tiny pussy, cum leaking out between where your sexes met and rolling down your asscheeks.
You lay there on the table, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Miguel watched entranced as your shared cum leaked out of you, finger fucking it back inside of you, wondering if it he could stuff it all back in. He quickly realized your overstimulated cunt couldn’t take it as tears welled in your eyes.
“Sorry,” He said, removing his fingers. “Now uh… where were we?” He picked up the page of work, then his face dropped, looking at the splotch of cum that had spilled out on accident.
“On second thoughts… you might want to turn this in online.”
Tag List: @fuckmachine42069 @pasdasin @alien-girl-violet
Next: Cloning - Kakashi x Reader
#atsv miguel#miguel x you#miguel o'hara#miguel smut#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x you#tutor!miguel o’hara#kinktober#shaggys bitches kinktober#kinktober 2023#miguel o’hara x y/n#hot girls are bad at math#smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x y/n#spiderman 2099
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Gale sighing happily, resting his head on your thigh when he comes up for air.
Gale moaning into you, the sound muffled.
Gale pulling your legs onto his shoulders so he can go deeper, taste more of you.
Gale trailing kisses along your lower stomach while his hands do the work.
Gale kissing you, the taste of your pleasure still hot on his tongue.
Gale shuddering when you weave your hands into his hair, pulling him closer.
Gale looking up at you while he licks and sucks and nips between your legs, pupils wide and face flushed.
Gale giving head.
#gale dekarios#gale x reader#gale x gn!reader#gale x afab!reader#gale x amab!reader#bg3 headcanons#gale of waterdeep#baldurs gate gale
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sweet tooth | halsin x reader
❥ — PAIRING halsin x afab! reader
❥ — SUMMARY Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters.
# NSFW, MDNI: smut below the cut, outdoor sex, food play (specifically honey), oral sex, spit, praise, fingering, finger sucking
"If I manage to break the curse… perhaps then I can show you just how grateful I am."
Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters. It isn't until tonight that you notice it.
When you set up camp, you notice that he's put his tent quite a distance away from anyone else. You often found him in a location that was further from everyone (he liked his solitude, you assumed), but the space between your tent and his would make it seem as though you were strangers. From your place next to the campfire, you could hardly see more than an outline of the druid.
It's when he doesn't join you for food that you begin to worry - had he decided he didn't want to travel with you anymore? Was he going to leave without warning?
"Gale," you grab the brunet's attention after you finish eating, "thank you again for cooking. I was wondering: do we still have that honey? I remember Halsin saying he has a sweet tooth—I thought it might be appreciated."
Gale's lips quirk up at your question, a suggestive eyebrow raising as he answers your question, "I believe we do, you should be able to find it—unopened—in that trunk besides the other camp supplies. I hope you make better use of it than I have."
You try your best to ignore the implication of his words, but suddenly the camp fire feels a lot warmer and the cool breeze is soothing against your cheeks. As you walk off, mumbling a thanks, you hear a light laugh from the wizard.
With a jar of honey and a small satchel of berries (you had remembered picking them up a few hours prior, excitedly rummaging for them in your bag) in your hands, you stood a few feet away from Halsin's tent, trying to find the courage to start a conversation. Usually it didn't feel difficult; if anything, you found him to be one of the easiest to talk to. But with the thought of him no longer wanting to travel together—no longer enjoying your company—it was as though you had become enwebbed, unable to move closer.
It felt like you were there for tens of minutes before Halsin appeared from his tent, turning to look at you, a soft 'oh' leaving his lips.
If you weren't already stuck in place, you had become so when his eyes met yours.
"I didn't realise you were here, apologies," his voice is gentle and he steps towards you in the dark, "did you need something?"
You look down at the jar in your hands and will yourself to speak, "You didn't eat with us, so I wanted to make sure everything was alright, I suppose."
A beat.
"—And I remembered you telling me you liked sweet things. I wanted to give you this."
Halsin lets his eyes drift down to your hands, which were now outstretched, before meeting your gaze again. His lips curl up into a smile and you swear that you can see the stars reflected in his eyes. It hits you that, if he really is thinking about leaving, you might not get another opportunity to talk to him like this again.
"I don't know what I've done for a gift, but thank you. Really."
He takes a step closer, taking the items in his hands, as he continues, "I'm sorry for not joining you, my mind has been rather… preoccupied, and I thought it best to spend some time alone. I've also been enjoying the company of the stars: aren't they beautiful tonight?"
You shift your eyes to look at the night sky. A crescent moon hangs amongst a cluster of stars, stretching out across the darkness. He's right, they are beautiful.
"You said you've been preoccupied? If you need my help, you know I'm just an ask away," the sincerity of your words causes a small chuckle to leave his lips, gaze falling from the sky to his feet.
"Believe me, I would love for you to help, but that would be an unfair request."
The statement is slightly confusing; he seemed to have no issues asking for help with considerably difficult tasks prior. You could hardly fathom the sheer size of a task was if Halsin felt he couldn't ask for your help.
Betrayed by your expression, he lets out another laugh, louder this time, "you misunderstand, it's simply a matter of personal frustration. Unfortunately, I've managed to get rather pent up."
It isn't until you hear those words—'pent up'—that you realise the meaning behind them. You recalled him making an off-hand comment at the Tiefling party about how he was ‘sure that we could get out any pent up feelings'. He had never acted on his words, of course, but he had put them out there nonetheless.
"It wouldn't be unfair at all," your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, "actually, I'd be more than happy to help and I think you know that, Halsin."
His eyes meet yours again, expression still soft and gentle under the soft glow of the moon. He takes a step towards you, so that your chests are almost touching. You don't break eye contact, newfound confidence surging through you.
He brings his face close to yours, peering down at you, “you’re sure it would be alright?”
You nod in response, his eyes momentarily widening before he uses his free hand to lightly hold your upper arm. His voice is a soft whisper when it leaves his mouth, “Gods, I can’t tell you how long I have wanted this.”
Halsin closes the space between you, drawing you into a kiss. His hand shifts from your arm to your cheek, the pads of his fingers are rough on your skin but they’re the last things you’re thinking about with his lips pressed to yours.
The kiss is quick, almost polite in its softness, and as Halsin pulls away, you feel your brows furrow.
“Your expression betrays you,” there's a humour to his tone, “would you like me to try again?”
You answer his question with another kiss, hands wrapping around the back of his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. It's deeper this time, more passionate, needier, and when Halsin's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you're quick to comply with the silent request.
When you lightly tug on his hair, parting from the kiss, a low groan tumbles from his lips and rushes straight through you.
"You're good at this," his thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you again. His kisses move down your face and neck, occasionally licking and biting at the skin until a shaky exhale leaves your lips. Your legs feel weak and every inch of you is warm, rushed heartbeat echoing in your ears; if you weren't so distracted you'd assume he could hear it.
When he pauses his movements, you take the opportunity to tug on his hair again, letting one of your hands fall from his neck to his chest, slowly getting lower, "just good?"
He hums when your finger tugs on his waistband, "amazing. Perfect, even."
You slide your hand underneath his shirt and he takes a sharp inhale at the contact. It had been so long since the last time someone had touched him like this; it had been longer since he had wanted to be touched—and to touch—so desperately. As you try to lift his top, though, he pulls back and gestures to the jar in his hand. You expect him to just put it down and continue, however you're left slightly disappointed when he breaks away from you entirely and opens the jar. His fingers dip into the jar, pulling out a string of glistening, viscous honey and bringing it to his lips.
You're left to watch helplessly, his tongue dragging from the base of his fingers to the tip and humming at the sweetness of the substance. It was impossible not to let your mind cloud over with images of those same fingers covered with your slick, dipping them into his mouth.
"Come here," it's a command, but it's gentle, easing you into doing as he says, "try some."
Halsin dips his fingers into the honey again, this time lifting his fingers to your lips. You take them in your mouth and run your tongue across them, enjoying the taste of the honey but entirely more focused on keeping your gaze locked with Halsin's. He lightly pumps them in and out of your mouth, cursing under his breath when you move your head to match the gentle pace.
You'd become used to Halsin being so composed and articulate—seeing him reduced to swears and fervent touches made you crave more of him, releasing his fingers and pulling him into another feverish kiss. You both moan into it, hands wanderings across each other's bodies: groping and grasping, trying to remove articles of clothing without pulling your lips away.
His hands land at the top of your thighs, tugging on them in a request for you to jump and hook your legs around his waist. He holds you in one arm with ease, using the other to tug at your shirt.
You kiss his neck, his grip tightening around you in response as his eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation.
"Please," he breathes out your name like a prayer, "I want you."
Leaning back, you stare into his eyes, kissing him again, "Gods, I thought you'd never ask."
Halsin puts you down and you rush to undress each other, sharing kisses whenever your hands aren't in the way. His body is incredible, and you're caught unashamedly staring from your sitting position as he tugs off the last of his clothes.
"You're really beautiful, you know?"
He smiles at your words, letting his eyes wander across you in a similar manner, "beautiful isn't enough to describe you."
When he gets onto his knees you can't help yourself from thinking of the sight as holy.
You watch as he dips his fingers into the honey jar and lifts them above your legs, letting it drip onto your skin like a gold glaze. It's cold and sticky but when he drags his tongue against you, licking the honey with it, you've all but forgotten the feeling.
His other hand, free of honey, lightly trails between your legs before stopping and running a finger between your folds.
"Fuck, you're soaked" if you weren't so eager, you'd be embarrassed. He had hardly touched you, yet your body was already begging for more.
He presses feather-light kisses up your inner thigh, taking his time as he follows and licks at the trail of honey, occasionally stopping to suck and nip at your skin, smiling when a soft gasp is drawn from your lips, "good girl."
Before he stops between your legs, he shifts to your hips and continues his upwards trails. You whine at the feelings of his lips around your nipple, lightly grazing his teeth against it while he thumbs and rolls the other in his fingers. You aren't sure if it's what he's doing or just him, but the touch is enough to make you moan, lightly bucking your hips into him.
"Impatient are we?" he chuckles, kissing back down to your thighs
When he's tasted the last of the honey, spread across the top of your thigh, he moves back slightly and watches as you squirm in anticipation.
"Did you want something else from me?" his voice is low and sickly sweet as he grabs your right thigh, rubbing soft circles in the skin with his thumb.
You nod in response, gasping out a slightly frustrated 'yes please', which is all he needs to start kissing again, trailing up the skin until his lips land on your cunt. He places one more kiss before using his tongue, dragging it upwards until it prods at your clit. You feel yourself throb under him, lightly bucking your hips forward as he drags his tongue in slow, circular motions.
He presses a finger inside you, thrusting a couple of times before curling it up. You moan under his touch, moving a hand to thread into his hair, desperately helping to create friction by grinding against his mouth.
His grip on your thighs tightens and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before slipping a second finger inside of you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way and when he leans back, only to spit on your cunt, you feel yourself clench around his fingers.
After a few thrusts, he lowers his mouth back onto your clit, flattening his tongue against it to lick and rub. His unused hand has an iron grip on your thigh, moving it so he could get his fingers deeper inside, curling them into you until a knot forms in your stomach. You instinctively grind your hips against his face, moaning as he begins to speed up. His actions are filled with need and when he feels your thighs twitch he takes that as a sign to continue, building you up to your edge.
You can only whine in pleasure when he moves his hand from your thigh to your abdomen, pressing down on it lightly. Your body twitches again and when he presses his tongue down onto your clit slightly harder it causes your thighs to instinctively close around him, bringing you to orgasm.
Halsin pulls away as you both catch your breath. From his position above you, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. He takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, sitting back onto his knees and taking his cock into his other hand. He strokes himself as you shift to sit facing him, legs weak and breathing still heavy.
Leaning forward, you replace his hand with yours before bringing him into another kiss. He grunts when you pull away, circling your thumb around his tip and pressing kisses onto his chest and neck.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice desperate and needy.
“Gods, Halsin, yes. I want this— I want you.”
You can barely finish your sentence before your back is on the grass again, caged in the druid’s arms. He pushes a knee between your legs and lowers himself to kiss you again. You’re ready to start begging him to fuck you when he moves to position himself at your entrance.
He doesn’t move, just lifts his head to meet your gaze with a teasing grin on his face, “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”
You don’t care about your pride, cursing before sputtering out, “I want you to fuck me, please, Halsin.”
The reaction is almost instant. Halsin sinks into you slowly, gently, keeping eye contact until you’ve taken every inch of him. He thrusts into you, drawing out a whiney moan, and leans down to kiss and nip at your lips.
Your name tumbles from his lips, unrelenting as he grabs your waist to push himself deeper into you, “Fuck— you feel so good”
His full attention is on you, moving a hand so he can thumb at your clit while pounding into you. A broken gasp escapes you, tightening around his cock at the touch, which gains a low groan in response.
You're a writhing mess beneath him, hands searching for anything they can grab onto. Halsin slows his pace so he can adjust your leg onto his shoulder, leaning forwards and sweeping up both your hands into one of his. The position lets him hit even deeper, the feeling is overwhelming, unable to stop the endless string of moans leaving your lips.
His pace is relentless, only slowing to carefully adjust the position so he could keep thumbing at your clit easily. You lift your head and he meets you halfway in a kiss. He leans down to your ear, breathing heavy, and groans out your name, "I want you to cum for me."
Just the words themselves have you clenching around his cock again, but when he presses harder into your clit, already overly sensitive and stimulated, it pushes you over the edge again, moaning out his name. The sensation is enough to have Halsin on the brink of his own orgasm, pace stuttering slightly.
By Gods does he never want this moment to end, he could mistake it for Heaven.
Your name is all he can manage to say as he continues, pulling out of you almost fully before rocking his hips back into you. The hand on your clit leaves to grasp at your hips, pulling you down onto him. He can feel you throb around him, "I'm gonna—"
He pulls out at the last second, decorating your thighs and stomach with strings of his cum. The sight is almost enough for him to bring his tongue back down to your cunt, indulging in you more, but you're both exhausted and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you.
"Let me clean you up," he manages between heavy breaths, moving away to grab a clean rag and wipe you down, "you're absolutely wonderful, I hope you know that."
Halsin leans down to kiss you; it's tender and gentle, you can't help but smile into it.
"I could say the same for you," comes your reply, "come lie with me?"
It takes no convincing before Halsin is lying at your side, arms wrapped around you. Any thoughts you had had about him leaving the camp are long forgotten and you can feel yourself begin drifting off in the comfort of his warm grasp.
reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡
[masterlist]
#halsin x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate x reader#bg3#bg3 x reader#bg3 halsin#baldurs gate halsin#halsin#reader insert#smut#bg3 smut#x reader#renoed
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chapter 4: a reflection in another's eyes
Find the masterlist here!
CW: Unintentional and nonconsensual voyeurism
W/C: 2,579
A/N: Have another simply because I've been writing so prolifically!
Astarion spent the better part of the day curled up in his tent with all of his belongings. He figured that if anyone else were to come looking for him, it’d be best if he didn’t have any obvious indications of his whereabouts on display. For as much as he wanted to bask in the sunshine like a lazy cat, it seemed safer to stay huddled in the cramped shadows of his tent, surrounded by all of the pilfered trinkets he associated with his freedom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anything to call his own, and each item, no matter its usefulness or lack thereof, had earned a sentimental place in his undead heart.
As the light shifted toward dusk, his mind grew restless and he felt suffocated by the heat and darkness of the small space. He crawled to the mouth of the tent and hesitantly lifted one of the flaps to peer out. His eyes quickly found Karlach and Shadowheart preparing the fire, but saw no sign of the morning’s adventuring party. He exhaled slowly through his nose and stood, gathering his things and tenderly placing them outside once more.
He caught the curious eyes of Shadowheart watching him enter and exit repeatedly and scowled menacingly at her, fighting the urge to giggle as he watched her face scrunch up in distaste. Karlach only smiled at him, nothing but kindness in her eyes, so he obliged her with his own in return.
The last rays of twilight streaked the sky by the time he finished re-orienting his belongings, and there was still no sign of the rest of the group. He became fidgety with distress at the thought of you injured or dead somewhere far from his reach, and chose not to analyze the feeling further. Surely, you were fine. Surely the other three had kept you safe, so that you might come back and provide him with security in turn.
He stared absently at the book in his lap, poring over the same paragraph far too many times as his agonized thoughts ran away with him. With a frustrated growl, he snapped the book shut and tossed it none too gently into his tent, snagging his toiletries off the little table next to him and stalking away from camp to the riverbank nearby. He hoped bathing would prove a more helpful distraction.
He shucked his clothes and swiftly waded waist-deep into the water, unaffected by the frigid temperature. He allowed his body to sink beneath the rippled surface, soaking himself from head to toe for a good wash. He worked his rosemary soap into a rich lather and scrubbed the layers of road dust from his silver hair and ivory skin until he glowed in the pale light of the moon. Deeming himself thoroughly cleansed, he dipped below the water one more time to rinse all of the suds away before making a hasty retreat to its edge. He donned his smalls in a rush, pulling his breeches on shortly after and lacing them shut.
Stepping into his camp shoes, he rubbed a spicy and citrusy oil through his curls and across the planes of his chest absentmindedly, his thoughts wandering once more. As he sucked in a breath for a heavy sigh, he caught your scent on the breeze and heard the tinkling sound of your laughter. He scrambled for his things and made a mad dash back to camp, pulling his worn, ruffled chemise over his head as he went.
Once he caught sight of you, the chilly tendrils of fear that had been slowly constricting his chest all day receded in an instant, replaced rapidly by the fuzzy warmth he’d come to associate with you - until he noticed the person opposite you.
Gale.
He watched in abject fury as the wizard laughed at your clumsy hand gestures and repeated his motions for you, his praise at your correction driving a breathy giggle from you. Something hot and green took over him as the Weave sparkled around the two of you, the look of wondrous fascination in your eyes too much for him to bear. This was another unfamiliar feeling, one that left a vile churning in his gut and a rancid taste in his mouth. A feeling he decidedly did not like one bit, and he skulked away to his tent to avoid feeding it further.
Little good it did, for the seed of doubt had been sown.
Well enough is certainly not good enough.
He placed his toiletries back on the table outside his tent and took up the ornate silver hand mirror in their stead, ducking into the bleak darkness of his sleeping quarters.
______________________________________________________________
He heard the padding of your bare feet and the telltale swish of his tent opening before he saw you, delicate face reflected in the many fractured facets of the hand mirror.
“Looking at something?” he drawled in greeting, smirking at the surprise marring your fine features.
“How did you…?”
“The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition,” he answered without turning to look at you, afraid of what his expression might betray. “It doesn’t quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you.”
“I came looking for you when we got back, but I couldn’t find you anywhere,” you began, letting the flap of his tent fall shut.
“I had gone for a bath,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Why didn’t you come get me when you were done?”
He scrutinized your face in the cracked mirror, eyes round with sadness and lips drawn in a slight frown. You wrung your hands in the muslin material of your sleep dress.
“I had every intention of inviting you for dinner when I returned, but you seemed… otherwise engaged,” he sneered, grateful you could not see his face in the reflection of the mirror.
“Ah, that. Gale was showing me how to harness the Weave without my lyre. He said I had a natural talent for the arcane arts,” you responded with a flush, arms drawn tight around your middle in defensive bashfulness.
“I think I rather prefer the magic of your music, darling,” he snarked before he could stop himself. The silence that followed was awkward at best.
Clearing your throat, you nodded at the mirror in his hand.
“Do you miss it?”
“Do I miss what?” he snapped, mood foul and patience running thin.
“Seeing your own face,” you answered in a small voice.
He swiveled to face you, jeering, “Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it.”
You remained standing just in the threshold of his tent, looking down at his no doubt disdainful expression.
“I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.” He could feel his lip curl in contempt.
“What color were they before?” you asked quietly.
He was taken aback, unable to recall the answer.
“I…I don’t know. I can’t remember,” he replied, voice now solemn, “My face is just some dark shape in my past.”
He was quickly overcome with white hot rage at the reminder of everything Cazador had taken from him, the memory of himself included.
“Another thing I’ve lost,” he snarled, hurling the hand mirror across the tent with unnecessary ferocity. The already-fractured surface shattered on impact, spraying shards of glass haphazardly in all directions.
You jumped back with a gasp, hand flying to grasp at your chest. He could hear the rapid, unsteady rhythm of your heart and felt a pang of remorse for startling you. He hung his head and buried his face in his hands with a groan, trembling with the rage and loathing that coursed through him.
He couldn’t hear your tentative footsteps or the soft sounds of your breath over the ringing in his ears, but he could smell you coming closer. He felt the gentle swoosh of your skirt and the impression in his bedroll as you knelt in front of him, and had to suppress a shudder when the warmth of your small hands encircled his wrists, drawing his own away from his face. Even still, he did not raise it to look at you.
You gave a little tut of disapproval, and he soon felt your calloused fingertips skate along his jawline, soft palms guiding him to meet your eyes. He watched intently as your eyes flitted over his features, drinking in the sight of him.
“What?” he rumbled.
He felt the pads of your thumbs trace gently over his cheekbones, and he closed his eyes at the feathery sensation. The warmth he associated with your presence morphed into a blazing inferno in the hollow of his chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“I see you,” you breathed.
He opened his eyes to find yours heavy lidded, soft features rosy in the warm glow of the oil lamp. He could count the freckles across the bridge of your nose with your proximity, your intoxicating scent drawing him ever closer.
“And what do you see, exactly?”
“Strong, piercing eyes,” you whispered, your own flitting from one to the other of his.
“Go on…” he exhaled.
“That dangerous smile,” you replied, lips quirking up as if in example.
All I’d have to do is lean in.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a tempest of disgust and bitter hatred whirled through him, sullying the fragile moment. It was too much. Too gentle.
More kindness than he deserved.
He reached up and grasped your wrists, not missing your shiver at his touch, though whether it was borne of the chill of his skin or the heat of your desire, he couldn’t say. All it did was fuel the maelstrom of his self-loathing. He deftly, albeit cautiously, removed your hands from his face and leaned away.
“Very good,” he purred, slipping back into the comfortable familiarity of his persona and taking control of the conversation again, “Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”
The dramatic change in your expression would have been funny if it didn’t also hurt, snuffing out the fire and the warmth in one fell swoop and leaving an ache of regret in its place.
“Is that all you want? Shallow praise?” you gritted out, mouth set in a hard line.
“Hardly! There’s also gold, sex, revenge - quite the list really,” he laughed, though it sounded false even to his ears. “But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”
“I can’t believe you,” you snapped, yanking your wrists from his grip. “Would it kill you to be vulnerable?”
You sat back, swinging your legs around and pushing yourself up to stand.
“It very well could, darling,” he sniffed, turning his head in profile to regard you haughtily.
“Go find your own dinner, Astarion,” you muttered, expression thunderous and limbs rigid with hurt and fury.
He watched as you stormed away, mind working overtime to catch up with how quickly the situation had turned south, and found himself staring at the swinging flaps of his tent for longer than he cared to admit.
For the first time in two centuries, it was not fear that kept him awake.
______________________________________________________________
Astarion surfaced from his fitful trance with a groan, blinking in the diffused glow of the oil lamp. He rolled over and pushed his tent open, surprised to find the blanket of night still stretched across the sky. He couldn’t remember how long it took to slip into his meditation, nor when it had happened, but it had been restless and plagued with the spindly remnants of memories best left forgotten.
He stretched and took a deep breath, an unnecessary but still calming practice, and weighed the benefit of slipping back into his trance against going out to hunt. He stared at the fabric ceiling swaying in the breeze for a few moments before deciding to get up. It had been a day or more since he’d last fed, and he supposed a full belly might help ease the pain of emptiness in his chest.
He slipped from his tent in silence, prowling in the direction of the forest, when he heard humming coming from the direction of the riverbank. He diverged from his original path and crept toward the sound, the haunting melody piquing his curiosity.
He smelled you before he saw you, and halted his approach in the shadow of a great oak tree close by. His skin prickled with the wariness of unanticipated voyeurism, but he could not draw himself away from the sight of you.
There you were, waist deep in the river, moonlight glistening off your bare, sudsy skin. Water ran in enticing rivulets from the ends of your hair, cutting trails through the lather in the valley of your breasts and over their soft mounds, droplets falling from the full curvature of their undersides into the rippling current swirling around you. You continued to hum your melancholy tune as you worked the fragrant floral soap through your hair.
Astarion was grateful for his lack of a pulse and need to breathe; had he been a mortal man, his regular bodily functions would have been sure to give him up.
He watched with rapt fascination as you propped your foot up on an invisible platform, no doubt a stone beneath the water’s surface, and ran the soap up your leg in a tantalizing display, the other following suit some time after. You took your time cleansing yourself despite the obvious chill of the water, skin dimpled with gooseflesh. His darkvision allowed him to pick out the finer details of your form, finding the silvery flash of old scars in the most unlikely of places.
The pleasant warmth your beauty incited warred with the cold discomfort of his abhorrent behavior. You were sure to skin him alive if you ever found him out, but you remained blissfully unaware of his presence for the moment, content to take pleasure in the act of washing yourself. He heard you suck in a great lungful of air and the telltale plunk of you sinking beneath the water’s surface to rinse yourself. He should have used the opportunity to slink away, but he was curiously rooted to the spot.
You resurfaced with heavy, panting breaths, hands slicking your hair back from your face and wringing the excess water from it. You undulated with the current as you waded back to the bank.
The pale light of the moon glinting off your wet skin as you hummed your poignant melody gave you a siren-like quality that stoked the embers of that tingly warmth into a burning need that sat low in his belly. He was familiar with lust, knew the look of it in others and the inevitable feeling of it in himself when forced to perform. Never, before now, had it been a welcome sensation.
I wonder how she’d look, bare in the glow of candlelight.
Just as quickly as the feeling came, it left in a rush of confused disturbance. He was knowingly violating your privacy, and taking enjoyment in it. He felt the overwhelming burden of shame consume him. With one last glance at your lithe form perched on a rock as your skin dried in the warm breeze, he fled into the hush of the darkened forest and far from the conflicted thoughts of an excitement long assumed dead.
#bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion#tav#shadowheart#karlach#gale of waterdeep#astarion pov#unnamed tav#no use of y/n#reader insert#afab tav#bard tav#soft astarion#astarion needs a hug#but so does tav#trauma#past abuse#fluff#emotional manipulation#angst#accidental voyeurism#slow burn#au canon divergence
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Take Care of You
Summary: Tav's selflessness does not go unnoticed by Astarion, but so doesn't the way her selflessness is at the expense of her own well-being. He decides to take it into his own hands to take care of her... in more ways than one.
Pairing: Astarion x fem! Tav (reader)
Warnings: Tav overworks herself and neglects her own needs/selfcare, smut, fingering (Tav is AFAB), feminine pet names used, praise kink, I think that's it!
Word Count: 1.3k+
A/N: I have brainworms again and need to get this out sooooo enjoy?
Oftentimes, Astarion found that Tav tended to the needs of others, but very rarely to any needs of her own. He had witnessed Tav spend the last 3 days taking care of everyone, including himself in various ways that had her now looking, and surely feeling, absolutely exhausted. As he stood outside his tent, eyes scanning the camp setup before him, his gaze zeroed in on his Tav who was currently starting the fire, and helping to set up Gale’s various cooking tools and ingredients. A soft smile tugged at his lips just at the mere sight of her, before turning to a frown. As it was, Gale was away from camp, surely bathing off the day’s blood and grime along with their other companions, as Tav readied everything for their return. Her hair was crusted with blood, as was her armor, and her cheeks were streaked with dirt. Her eyes ringed with purple, tell tale signs of her exhaustion.
With a sigh, Astarion makes his way across camp, coming to stand beside Tav,
“Darling, I must say, you do look absolutely ravishing in red, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to get cleaned up?” She looks up at him with doe eyes, hands not stilling in their endeavor to help.
“Oh I don’t mind waiting. The others won’t be long, and besides, I just want to help set up for Gale. He’s always so kind as to make dinner for everyone, so this is me paying him back.”
Astarion manages to internalize his eye roll, and hold his tongue from pointing out that Tav has saved the wizard plenty of times in battle to make up for the meager stew that’s served nearly daily.
He places a hand on her shoulder, before pulling back and dusting the dried blood off his hand, “I just worry that you haven’t been taking care of yourself, is all.” a clear of his throat does well to cover the awkwardness he feels at saying such a vulnerable thing to her.
“I’m alright Star, no need to worry.” She gives him a glance and a little smile.
“I don’t mean to be blunt darling, but you look positively dreadful and like you could use a nap. Please, let me take care of you.” Astarion huffs, frustrated at her stubbornness. Tav straightens up and turns, her eyes meeting his almost pleading ones, “Okay, I’ll let you take care of me.” Her voice comes out a quiet murmur. There was no denying him when he gave her that look.
The others arrive back to camp not long after Astarion gathers fresh clothes, a comb, and toiletries for Tav. He leads her to a secluded spot along the shore of a small lake they are camped by, before unbuckling and removing her heavy armor and underclothes, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead as he does so. He strips himself of his own clothes, regardless of having bathed earlier that evening, taking Tav’s hand in his own and bringing her to the water. Astarion gets to work, lathering the soap between his hands, and gently scrubbing the filth from Tav’s body and face, a shiver running through her at his touch. He has her fully dip underwater, then begins to work the soap through the blood drenched strands of her hair, massaging at her scalp with his fingertips. Tav lets a moan slip past her lips.
“Does that feel good darling?” Astarion chuckles as he brings the soap down to the ends of her hair.
She mumbles an affirmative, her eyes flutter shut.
“Alright, there we go. Just rinse this out for me, will you, love?”
Tav dips back below the surface, thoroughly rinsing out her locks. When she resurfaces, Astarion can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. The water rolling down her neck, over her breasts as she pushes her hair away from her face. She looks like a painting, he thinks.
The two dry off, and Tav dresses in the clothes that Astarion had brought along for her; a pair of loose trousers, and one of his ruffled night shirts she so loved to steal. Once in Astarion’s tent, the vampire sits, patting the space between his legs and motioning for Tav to take a seat. She obeys, and sits while he starts to comb her hair.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” he hums, fingers beginning to plait her hair.
“I’m okay. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I am.” Tav yawns, her hands mindlessly playing with a loose thread on his trousers.
“Tav, you really must take care of yourself. You put everyone, including myself, before you. It’s really no wonder you’re so exhausted.” he ties off the braid with a piece of leather. His arms come around to wrap over Tav’s chest, holding her against his own and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
“I just want to help everyone, and I guess I lose myself in the process.” a chill runs through her at the feel of his lips on her sensitive skin.
“Darling, do you think you could try to lose yourself in me, just for a moment, hm?” his tongue flicks against the edge of her jaw.
She gasps in a breath, and stutters, “ye-yes, I think I could do that.”
“Let me take care of you.” One hand whispers across her chest, lightly cupping one breast in it’s hold, before trailing down her stomach, and dancing along the waist of her trousers, “Let’’s take these off.”
Tav shimmies her pants over her hips and down her legs, toeing them off to the side. Astarion runs his hands down her naked thighs, hooking beneath them to lift them and rest them over the tops of his, successfully spreading her open for him. Her breath catches in her chest, the cool air hitting her already sensitive cunt.
“My my, look at you. You’re already positively dripping.” He dips his fingers below and runs his middle finger through her wet, swollen slit, opposite hand running up her ribcage, grasping at her breasts and teasing at her nipples. He toys at her entrance, teasing the tips of his fingers in her before pushing slowly inside. Tav moans, her chest heaving slightly at the intrusion.
“That’s it, such a good girl taking my fingers like this.” Astarion coos in her ear, nose pressed to her cheek. He begins to pump his digits in and out, crooking them just enough to rub at that spot that makes her mewl.
“Just feel how good I’m making you feel, my love.” The pace of his fingers picks up, and his other hand pinches at one of her nipples.
“St-Star, I’m close.” her head falls back against his shoulder, throat exposed for his mouth’s taking. Thighs shake against his as she nears her end. He sucks and licks at the flesh of her throat, fingers continuing their pace. The hand playing with her breasts, makes its way down to circle her swollen clit. Tav whines at the contact, hands grip at his forearms, grounding her to the moment.
“That’s it, pet. Come for me. Come around my fingers, I want to feel it.”
Her cunt spasms around him, thighs quaking and hips lifting to meet his movements. Moans fly past her lips, as she rides out her orgasm. Astarion slows his fingers as she comes down from her high, “Shh shh shh, there we go.” Tav looks back at him, a blissed out, glassy look to her eyes. “There you are, darling. How did that feel?”
She tries to regulate her breathing, “So good.” she manages to reply.
He grabs a cloth, and cleans her up, then slips back on her underclothes and trousers.
“Come here, my love.” He scoops her up and lays her down, her head upon his chest, as he pulls the bedroll and blankets around the two of them.
“Thank you Star, for taking care of me.” Tav mumbles as she drifts off and gets the much needed rest that she deserves.
#astarion x tav#astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x reader smut#astarion bg3#astarion x tav smut#astarion x tav angst#astarion x tav fluff#baldurs gate#baldur's gate iii
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Power
Sometimes I think about Dead Three's Dream Team (afab!reader), and how both Astarion and the reader each get to both top and bottom, but Gale only tops. And that it's kind of a travesty because him bottoming is definitely part of their relationship.
In The Ambitious Wizard, you get to utilise his Netherese weave — which is an enjoyable sensation for him — and then use it to pin him down with mage hand
Just, it's such a kinky power move 🤤 and now I'm thinking about using his weave to conjure a projection of himself to bend him over and fuck him at your direction
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mating season
𐀔 pairings: astarion x reader. karlach x reader. halsin x reader. background cast (wyll, shadowheart, lae’zel, gale) x reader. background rolan x tav.
𐀔 content warnings: tiefling!tav, LITERALLY PWP, alcoholic consumption, brief sexual memory (halsin), heavy petting, noncon to dubcon (with astarion only), slight slutshaming, oral (f!receiving), mentions of breeding, afab anatomy but g/n pronouns. astarion is very slightly, slighty mean, up to you if he is ascended or not.
𐀔 sypnosis: you, a tiefling, go through your first heat cycle around your companions. some are willing to either indulge you or take advantage of you.
𐀔 author’s note: hoppinh on the bandwagon of tieflings having heat / rut cycles. astarion, briefly halsin, ROLAN and karlach get some action, teehee. and don't worry. everyone is a pervert and thinks about it. everyone will get a chance. someday. merry christmas!!
The first thing everyone wakes up to is heat. Sweltering, palpable heat, pervading the air up to the point it felt like it was trying to smother them, casting annoying, relentless burnishes of perspiration on their skin.
It couldn’t be the sun, no. The warmth felt too close, within of reach – but even then, it was no lively and unextinguished campfire, no engine out of hand nestled within Karlach, Shadowheart concluded.
They’d all been taking turns the entire morning seeking cold relief in the stream. Thankfully, as the day prevailed, the sun was no longer so glaring, the heatwave lessening by a tad bit, the rest of the party excluding a certain Ravenguard had found it now bearable.
It wasn’t until Wyll was fed up with the sweat that would inevitably come no matter how much he wiped at it, marching towards where it felt most blistering, most fervent; the intense source.
It had led him to your tent — and without doubt, the demon believed the source was your tent; your fucking otherworldy furnace of a tent. Even as he stood from outside, the heat was practically choking him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he took a look inside and finds out you, little fiend you, stuffed the entire Nine Hells inside. And take a look inside he does, peeling away the entrance, a delirious but polite request to turn down the heat ready on his tongue —
But it isn’t the Nine Hells’ heat and musk that slaps him to his face, to his utter surprise.
It’s you; trembling, flushed raw and in all of your fiendish glory, naked. Tail loud and thumping on the floor as your whimpers permeate through the air, legs spread and — No!
Somewhere in the back of his horned head, he wonders if it’s the heat, the shock, or simply his building arousal that has rendered him stuck to his position. It takes Wyll all his strength he can muster to tear his eyes away; what was he doing? He was intruding on your tent— your privacy! How could he forget basic etiquette, so much for being a noble-!
(Without a doubt, he’s ruined his chance of any traditional courtship.)
“Sorry.” The Blade himself awkwardly coughs before pushing himself out of your tent with an inhuman force, slamming the fabric entrance shut and tripping on his own two feet on the way out. “It’s Tav!” He shouts, sprinting with little idea on where to; the heat is unbearable and by the gods, he isn’t so sure anymore if it was coming from your tent or if it was simply his body. His commotion with Tav gathers the attention and eyes of his fellow companions, and it is both Karlach and Shadowheart that push at him to settle him down.
“Hey, hey. Calm down, you!” Karlach, ever the concerned companion with her furrowed brows, assures him like steed. “Tav, you mentioned?” Shadowheart, upon quick confirmation that he was not injured, is quick to coax him for answers of his behavior. He’s a bit mortified as his little flustered fit had everyone around him.
“Tav, they’re– get this–” Wyll swallows, tense with the image of you squirming and dripping still on the front of his mind. “T-they’re hot.”
It’s a dreadful thing, he realizes later a split second more than he’d like, the silence that follows. Through the tadpole, they’ve seen what he’s seen; and judging from the atmosphere, they’re chalking it up to an active imagination. All but loud, with a lone cricket chirping in the distance. He shoots up to in an attempt to explain, but wordlessly splutters instead.
“So you’ve had your first wet dream, I take it?” Astarion scoffs, finding the dirt under his manicured nails more interesting than what the fiend had to say next. “Had an issue with morning wood, perhaps– or should I say, a hardened blade?”
“No!” Wyll refutes, now standing up with the help of Shadowheart. “I-I meant to say they’re hot, literally. They’re drenched with sweat, lookin’ like they’re about to keel over. You saw it, in my head, what they looked like!”
“Ah, yes.” The vampire recalled that vision. Though brief and concerning, yes, it was also undeniably delectable. What he wouldn’t give to have seen you writhing with want up close. But still, he slips his desperation behind a theatric mask. “Like a mutt in heat, how hilarious.”
“In heat.” Karlach had repeated Astarion’s words and bristled, her muscles twitching once but violently enough that it had them staring at her like they had been with Wyll. The look on her face tells everyone she’s had her eureka moment, a light flickering beside her head. “Tav is in heat. Of course they are; it’s breeding season!” She guffaws then, disregarding the disbelief of the party — save for Halsin, who simply nodded.
“So what you’re saying is we have a feral, unspayed animal amongst us for the time being?” Lae’zel grunted, though she certainly did not mind if the blush on her face was anything to go by.
“Mating season is upon most of the forest.” The druid responded, crossing his thick arms, ever the calm elf. “Given the... more animalistic features of some cambions, it is not entirely unreasonable. Given the intensity, it must be their first heat since you’ve all been on this journey.” The party gapes; Karlach nods, and though she does not mention it, she’s mildly disappointed your heat had not aligned with her rut.
“So, what you’re both saying is that they need to breed – or be bred?” Though the vampiric rogue balked, he was unable to deny the inkling of lust that washed through him at the idea. You, and your all proud visage crumbling into one of a desperate, slut of a fiend.
“Well, when you put it in such a frank and vulgar manner...” Gale coughs, flushed, Astarion notices, inwardly grimacing. The wizard’s never been discreet about liking your musk – and today, it is especially honeyed and heavy around the campsite. “Yes.”
And that’s when it hits the rogue, the shared tension and ignited lust in everyone – not just Gale. It’s a slow and heavy shift, like puffs of smoke. The current of lust in the air runs deeper when a small, inviting moan permeates from your tent. The sounds of heavy breaths and trousers shifting from around the party, it all goes unobserved to any eye that doesn’t belong to an experienced rogue.
Still, the rest would’ve been fools to think only one or two of them would be intrigued, he thought. It was with a silent agreement amongst them that by the end of this week, you’d be thoroughly savoured.
The first thing you wake up to is a dull ache across the expanse of your stomach, and a pool of your own arousal drenching the bedroll between your legs. Your bed-kissed face tightens, glaring down at the growing tension in your belly. A groan is torn out of your dehydrated throat – and if the obvious lack of sun on your tent was anything to go by, you’ve slept through nearly the entire day.
Fuck, what was going on? Distoriented, you attempt to sit up only for the dull ache to morph into heated convulsions that immediately spread like wildfire around your weakened body. It was then that you realized that to your utter horror, you were burning hot, to the Nines and beyond — as if you were forcefully thrown into an early heat.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. No. The edges around your vision blackened for a split second before you violently lurched yourself out of your too-warm, too-cramped tent, slamming your palms and knees into the dirt ground and digging your nails in, your mouth open to welcome the hot pants stuck in your dry throat.
You spat out a vicious string of Infernal curses, your focus blurring in and out of itself. You shut your mouth, biting your lip to keep in whimpers, sweat trickling down from your forehead as your mind fought in vain against the primal urges now closing in on it; the feral ache for relief deeming itself more important than reason.
Relief. Fuck, it sounded good right now. You hissed, your mental resolve crumbling, tail furiously lashing against the dirt. Relief. Your eyes darted around the camp anything that could relieve the heat in your loins; Shadowheart and her healing hands or a cool river stream to let the water wash over you, but fuck, you needed real relief. A body you could sink your teeth into and ride until the next morning – preferably Karlach, or Halsin–!
Thick, strong Halsin.
“You feel good, little one.” Halsin quietly groaned up from above you, touching you as if he’s been longing to.
He moves inside you; thick cock bruising your insides. Every open-mouthed gasp and hurt or pleasured cry was eagerly welcomed into his own mouth with wet kisses. He was unrelenting, but kind. Full of sinew your hands could run across or scratch in slight distaste if the fat tip of his length pressed a sensitive spot deeper than you’d have liked. And without fail, he had laughed everytime, gentle and light, even if his deep thrusts into your spent hole were anything but.
He must have been trying to burrow in you with how deep he was inside, letting you raggedly cry into the slope of his neck meeting the thickness of his shoulder. Halsin set out to plant an apologetic kiss into the crook of yours, fucking you deep until you fluttered around him, dragging him to his peak alongside you.
No, you winced, tearing your eyes open and your mind out of its lust-ridden gutter, the burn inside you relentless. No Halsin nor Karlach, not a single soul that could provide you relief to be found around camp — and damn them all, you were in no state to be crawling around searching for even the slightest whiff of their scent in gods know where.
Relief.
Yet another infuriating wave of heat rolled through you, forcing you to clench your hands and drive dirt beneath your nails. What remained of your rationality sought out to the crevices of your memories, ones that weren’t flooded of nightly trysts with the druid elf or — Rolan.
Relief – Rolan. A drop of your drool hitting the ground; Rolan with his horns you could grip and sharp teeth that could sink into your shoulder. No doubt warmly cooped up in Ramazith’s Tower, signing trades or shoving his nose in dusty books. He’d do, for tonight – he’d understand, indulge you and lift you from the unbearable heat clouding your head. He wouldn’t mind, you know it, because you’d be a blind fool to not see the way his eyes would fondly trail over your face, or the dips in your body.
He wants you, and for tonight, you will do him a favor and want him back.
You urge your trembling body to stand up and begin the treacherous trek from camp to the Gate’s city.
It was only the next night, moon high, that you sauntered into camp instead of out your tent, sporting a relieved glow, a fresh set of bites around your throat, a heavy limp, and of course, the hands of a flushed Rolan around your waist.
Your ragtag party watched from their campfire logs, a petty and envious air about them whilst the winsome smile on your face turned into an airy laugh as Rolan tenderly cupped your jaw with his hands, whispering something that had you curling your tails together. You shook your head and sweetly pecked his cheek as he nodded and bumped your horns together like lovers as a bid goodbye before stepping back to part ways.
“Well?” Karlach greeted with an amiable smile as you joined the group’s circle, having been worriedly sniffing around and asking for you the entirety of the morning; your scent lingering faintly around the air but with no continued path as to exactly where you were. She knew firsthand the extent of pain and delirium heats could bring, and god forbid you had fallen in the wrong hands.
(And thankfully, you hadn’t. She was simply glad you found someone trustworthy to mingle with instead of being alone.)
You scooched near her with a charmingly teasing grin, matching her liveliness, turning a blind eye to the tension in the air. “Well, what?” And before the red-skin tiefling could play banter with you, a certain rogue had pettily overtook the conversation.
“Well, did you enjoy your little fling?” Astarion dryly teased, a goblet of wine in his spindly hands and a sardonic smile on his face. He let the wine swivel for a moment. “Enjoyed playing charity, whoring yourself out?”
Karlach quietly called out his name in a disappointed manner, either to scold or deter him from what next he could say.
“What can I say?” You entertain his snark, peeking around the campfire logs for a bottle of blingdenstone blush wine; grabbing ahold of ot and pouring yourself a goblet. Taking a gracious swig, you allow the fruity taste to melt on your tongue. “My company is sought after.”
“Sought after? You amuse me,” The pale elf laughs, dry in a manner that has you eyeing him, his hand tightening around the rusted goblet whilst you set down yours. “Are you sure?” He asks, glaring. “I’d say it’s desperation, on your side of the coin – you’d spread your legs to anyone asking politely, darling.”
You scrunch your nose at that, the warmth and flavor of the wine turning cold and bitter in your throat.
The silence is almost hostile around the campfire – the crackling of it serving to make it less awkward. “Take that damn wine out his hands,” you hear Wyll whisper to a reading Gale and a Lae’zel sharpening her dagger – but both the wizard and githyanki don faces that tell you they aren’t approving of your escapade either. You allow your eyes a brief roam around all their faces; finding it tightened in displeasure.
You don’t feel so well, all of a sudden. Some part inside you chalks it up to the wine.
Save for Karlach who was nudging you with her tail, pleading you from the corner of her eye; asking you to back down from Astarion. Considering it was an option until he opened his mouth once again, his breath smelling of merlot wine. “You’re missing out, you know.” He hisses when you raise him a brow.
“These flings you have,” he eyes around the party, making sure to pointedly look at Halsin for a second longer. You’re half-sure he’d vex Rolan if he was here. Slurring, he pauses again to savor another sip from his wine. “They can’t give you something real.” Your eyes meet his, hesitant, reading the unsaid but he can in them.
“You...” You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the light, the fire shedding a hopeful glint in his eyes for a split second at your tender tone of voice, face softening at the way you curl in yourself. “You’re drinking too much.” And just as quickly as it came, it left.
Something heavy twists in your gut; and you can’t quite decide if it’s from the wine, the second wave of your heat, or distress. Silently pushing yourself off the log, you might as well to take that soak in the river that you’d been dying for.
(You’re not very surprised to feel the many eyes piercing through you.)
Shortly after you left the circle, Karlach had followed you, indiscreet. It’s a game of chase, really – and she’s hot on your tail but you just keep evading her when she thinks she’s got you, a hairsbreadth away from her hands. The way your shoulders tremble with little laughs from your lips are not missed by her, and if she were any closer she’d chase it with her own.
(She smiles, not seen through the dark mouth of the night. Was it her presence or the alcohol that has made you soft?)
It’s not a long trek to the lake by any means, the path obscured by dense foliage she’d occasionally lose you in. Within moments, she’s at the edge of the water with the gravel crushing beneath her boots, overtaking the slow stream of water you’re delicately undressing by. Her longing gaze lingers on the slope of your jaw, the fullness of your lips and the fresh, deep indents of teeth along your shoulder. She’s unsure of whether it’s from Astarion’s feeding or Rolan.
It’s only when you’re fully bare that you turn to face her, that same plush smile that’s melted the hearts of hundreds.
“Are you joining me?” The sweet lilt of your voice makes the gears stop turning in Karlach’s nodding head, her body moving before her mind to start peeling away at her own clothes at the appealing invitation; wading into the water with you as soon as she’s done. A snort is pulled from her when you playfully splash at her with your tail when you hear her behind you.
“Don’t play a game you can’t win, you little...” Karlach jovially returns the splash, inwardly rejoicing at your giggle; this little, shared intimacy is nothing new, but it makes her heart lurch all the same. What she wouldn’t give to have more time with you.
By the gods, she could never get enough of that you and your joy. Some selfish, unbidden part of her hopes you’ll take her up on Wyll’s offer on the path to Avernus, for the sole reason to see it just a little longer.
She shifts around for a topic to hear your voice a little more, “How is your heat coming along?” The smile on your face falters slightly at her choice of inquiry – but you relax instantly. She’s one of your dearest friends, concern is her second nature.
“When is it never dreadful?” You shrug, casual though your words ring true. An unmated tiefling’s pain during a rut or heat was nothing short of agonizing. She watches the nervous swallow bob in your throat. “But I had a little bit of help- from Rolan.”
“Ah, the new master of the tower, was it?” You nod at her, and it comes to you once again that Karlach was no jealous woman. She was glad you had your fill of enjoyment. “He looks smitten with you; are you courting him?”
“Huh?” Your tail whacks against the relaxed surface of water in disbelief, a flush festering on your disgruntled face. “It’s more like the other way around, he bumped his horns to mine earlier.”
Karlach guffaws at your distress, tearing up with her joy until her breath catches on a sweet aroma. She squints, cautiously sniffing the air, once, twice – and she looks to you, pursing her lips when she realizes it isn’t the fragrances you’re washing over yourself; it’s just you, or rather, the second wave to your heat. She hopes the hunger welling in her isn’t clear in her eyes.
You smell really good, she thinks as she chews on the inside of her cheek, staring at the dip of your back as your turn around. And you’re a really good friend, too good, maybe. She feels what she’s about to do isn’t very good.
Karlach doesn’t know what compels her to do what she does but she follows like it’s law; catching your wrist in her hand, capturing your jaw in her other and kissing you tender, swallowing the gasp that comes out.
It’s only when the air starts to feel thick with your heat and her lust that she pulls away, a string of spit following you both – and she’s already pulling away, horror welling up in her eyes but before she can grovel with apologies, you’re reeling her right back to your spit-slick lips with a moan so utterly full of want it has her pulling you closer.
“I can help you,” she murmurs against your taste before pulling away, your want reassuring her she’s got nothing to be sorry for. Your heaving breasts press against her face when she dips half of herself in the water to wrap her arms around your legs. She pleads. “Let me help you. Please.”
Karlach carries you with her muscled arms and settles you on the edge of a rock, softly parting your legs for you and making herself a warm home between them. The way she looks up at you gives you a bashful knot in your stomach.
“Do you want this?” She swallows thick, as if to wash away the heavy weight of her need, eyes situating her hands on your hips with a trembling but still dominant grip. “Use your words.”
You nod, frantic. Breathy pants now visible in the hot air. “I do,” your tongue feels weak when you speak, looking at her with dazed eyes. “P-please, I- I want it, Kar.”
It’s all the push she needs to lick a stripe up your slit, rendering you still when she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks. It drags a heavy moan out of you and it’s nothing but music to her ears. She hopes it’s the sound that greets her in the afterlife instead of angels with their harps or trumpets.
“Ahah,” Karlach pants, hot against your clit, and you look down to see your slick running down her chin, her tail pulling you closer by your calf while yours whips around. “You taste so fucking good.” She murmurs against you, sending an arrow of pleasure straight through your trembling spine that makes her dive right back in, tracing your fluttering hole.
She tongues inside your hole, moaning when it tightens around her, fucking and writhing it around in response.
If the heat wasn’t so heavy, you’d think she was tracing her name on your cunt. You huff, rocking your hips into her face as much as you can with her hands firmly clasped around your hips. Your hands find themselves around her horns and they gently pull her head closer to you, riding her face as if to help brace you for the knot snapping in your stomach.
Karlach takes a moment to pause, smiling with your heady flavor on her lips, chuckling against your core. “So needy.”
You don’t last long, not with her smile and teeth and tongue around your folds, no, and it’s a blind rush of time and hot white when your thighs tremble around her head, mouth dropping open in a silent scream.
“Karlach...!” You cry her name, cumming and convulsing around her tongue with open-mouthed moans. Her grip on you tightens, an Infernal curse leaving her as your slick taste floods her mouth. Her hands run over you, the small of your back, your hips and then to your ass, gripping the fat of it to keep you still while she laps at what little you have left to give; only giving in when you whimper and try to kick her away.
(In the rational crevices of your head, you’d hate to prove Astarion right about being a whore but fuck, does she make you feel good.)
It’s soft silence that fills the air, after you both cease your panting. You stare at the stars, head foggy with the orgasm that racked your body, humming when Karlach gently sets you in her arms again to wash your arousal away in the water while your head contentedly lies against her shoulder.
“Let’s get you to your bed, hm?” She coos, bumping her horns against yours – only letting you go to stand up again when she finishes washing and drying you, allowing you to clothe yourself. Time is a blur then, as you spend it aided to walk by her warm arms, staring at the intricate maze of foliage you’re surrounded about.
You’re snapped out your limping daze when you look around to see the foliage isn’t dark anymore, lit around by hues of oranges from a familiar campfire. Karlach grins, closed-eye as she squeezes you and kisses you warmly before nudging you towards the direction of your tent, quaintly lit up by a candlelight lamp you set inside earlier.
“Go inside,” she coaxes you, all-kind. It’s a certain emptiness you feel when you peel yourself away from her warmth with a whine that has her chuckling and pressing her lips against yours again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
You do as she says, stumbling inside your tent and falling with a thud to your soft bed – but not without curling your lips into a loving smile, savoring the memory of her. It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to the hands of rest.
Fuck.
It’s the middle of the night when you’re next startled awake.
And it’s no surprise when you wake up to yet another surge of dull aching and your own arousal just starting to drip out of you. You waste little time; stumbling like a fawn out your tent, movements laden with the remnants of sleep –
You’re halfway out when your face slams against a body; lithe and cold, and in your sleep-ridden state, you could be convinced you just bumped into a slab of ice draped in flesh. But you urge your heavy lids to open up, to see the man, well, vampire you’d bickered with earlier, staring down at you from the very opening.
“Astarion,” you state, bleary-eyed and fisting your nightshirt closer; the fleece of it grounding you under his piercing gaze. Your heart is beating quick; a brief thought hopes it stays beating, and you will it away. You have half the mind to ask what he’s doing in front of your tent, but you have no time. The air is thick. The heat inside you is boiling. You need relief – Rolan.
“I...” Your words crawl in your throat, the line of your brows furrowing when you feel the familiar pinpricks of your heat pressing into you. “Please, move. I have somewhere to be.”
You almost feel small under the depth of his gaze; everything about him reeks of fury mingling with need.
“Off to find another bed to warm, I assume?” Astarion hisses with the slightest slur, the breath which he speaks out carrying the scent of fine wine – the air around him dangerous. Starving. He moves closer, and you, in all your confusion, slowly crawl back into your tent, unsure on what to fight first; the heat that consumes you or the danger you feel is about to overtake you.
“Astarion,” you mumble, this time with a bleat to your voice and your eyes wide like the lamb to be drained and slaughtered you feel you are. The air is heady; laden with fear and need thick like honey. Everything around you is too much. Where is Rolan? Karlach?
A hand tightens around your ankle, refusing to let go even as you yelp and watch Astarion force his way inside your cramped tent and crawls himself between your legs to nestle his face in the crook of your neck.
“No, no,” You whisper to him, shifting under him in a panic when you feel his familiar lips on your neck. “I’m sorry but you cannot feed from me tonight, Astarion. I need to leave, now.”
“I’m not here to drain you dry, silly.” Astarion’s voice is husky, breathy. It has you clenching your thighs around his hips; his hands clasp around yours in return. “Though, I am starving, I have something else in store for little you.” You grit in discomfort, the unease and desire a blend that you feel entirely drunk on.
(He would never admit it but that tender pit of terror in you has him salivating.)
“Leave...!” You hiss. He chuckles at that; the sound velvet-rich and grating, and does exactly the contrary – pushing himself closer to you until you’re chest-to-chest. You hate that you cannot see him tucked away to your neck. It does not help he is close to your raw, still-sensitive core; you have nothing on save for a long, flowy poet’s shirt thanks to a certain crimson tiefling.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I can’t have you running off to somebody else.”
It’s then that you feel it; the press of a cruel, toothy smile against your throat and something of leather, something of warmth digging into the meat of your thigh. He is not here to drain you out of his anger, rather, he’s here to devour you, prey on you. You fear you’ve catched on belatedly.
“Mfh. I don’t want–” Your late, futile resistance is met with a finger to your lips, flushed thighs being pushed further apart as his hips slot between yours. Somewhere in the back of your muddled mind, you hear yourself keen with delight at the friction before he hushes you.
“You’re right, you don’t want it.” Astarion croons, watching as you writhe your hips against his for friction, as your bare cunt instictively grinds against the hot imprint of his still-clothed cock even as your head grasps for even a thread of coherence. “You need it, need this - need me.”
Your body does not deny his claim, arching your hips to meet his grinding, swollen folds clinging to his leather trousers – the pit in your stomach and the crawl up your spine indistinguishable between dread and ecstasy. The line of reason and morals are once again blurred in your head.
You curse yourself for having indulged in the alcoholic delicacy earlier. He’s emboldened by the wine; you’re weakened by it. The finger on your lips slip inside your mouth, firm on your tongue. You gag on it when his other hand clasped on your hip reaches down in between your legs and feels around for your, unsurprisingly, dripping vulva, the both of you gasping in delight.
“You’re soaked. What a fine surprise!” He chuckles, continuing to buck his clothed erection into your heat, petting your hair when you moan around his fingers. “I hope it’s because of me and not just your little heat.”
Your body is transparent, visceral with him, loyal to the promise of pleasure he can give you – even if your mind, what is left of your rationality indignantly fights tooth and nail to convince your body to stop giving in to animalistic pleasure.
It’s not long then, until Astarion becomes impatient, always having been; unlacing the ties on his trousers with one skilled hand and leaning over you to toss it off – it’s all too quick for your swarmed mind to catch up to, and the next thing you see and know is that you’re hissing through your teeth and thrashing while he pushes the burning head of his cock into you, hushing you as if you were a distressed animal. Your muscles tense, jerking away, a feeble little no on your lips—
But it’s an easy intrusion, a quick thrust into you is all it takes to bury himself deep with the help of your slick and his pre. He groans as, eyes rolling back as yours start to prick with tears, hold tightening on you as you whimper and turn limp like a ragdoll to his experimental thrusting. Some part of you wants to preen at the pleasure; the honeyed heat inside you pleased.
“Good- fuck, good pet.” He breathily murmurs, clasping a hand around your hip again; alternating between sensual grinding and abruptly slamming into you. All while he laughs and watches with a vicious smile as you’re torn between pathetically moaning and crying, the fingers in your mouth helping to muffle the sounds.
“See? Not so bad if you just close your eyes and give in.” He presses down particularly hard on your tongue when you wail at a sharp, unexpected thrust. He couldn’t have someone from the party playing hero. “I’m trying to help you.”
Tears sting at the corner of your eye, and you have no doubt you look pitiful right now - but fuck, he feels good. You don’t want to admit it, but you won’t deny it either; you needed this. And though you would have preferred to have it be Rolan, all gentle, rutting into you with sweet whispers and even sweeter promises, the heat in your body cannot be satiated with the tenderness he can give you. But you would rather stake him first than admit he’s helping you fill that gaping need in you.
“Astarion...” You furrow your brows and swallow around his fingers, your own life clinging to the back of your throat. It’s with a certain horror and desperation that you realize you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d like – and you know he knows, because he pulls his fingers out your mouth and presses a warm, spit-slick thumb to your aching clit. Your hole flutters around him, and you writhe around, the tightening burn of your incoming orgasm too much to handle. Pleasured, honeyed mewls are wrenched from you as his hips snap, driving his cock deep.
Astarion purrs – a hand on your thigh to help him slam into you, gripping hard enough to form bruises whilst the other was relentless at your clit. It’s with a shriek that you fall apart, seizing on his thrusts that only seem to quicken, the wet sound of skin on skin and your crying permeating through the entire camp, no doubt. He coos when a whine slips out of you, a tear gliding from your eye.
You’re seeing fucking white, blots of black dotted along your vision by the time he greedily slams inside you a final time with a low groan – something pleasingly warm filling you up, satiating you. Astarion holds your face and tugs it meet his for a breathy, passionate kiss whilst he twitches seed inside you - smiling in delight against your lips when you melt.
Relief is found; a warm glow settling on you despite your lids fighting their damndest to stay up. You’re a soft, slow little thing now, all but warm and ready to be taken by approaching slumber. Astarion gladly takes the chance to lie on his side and gather you in his arms, lips curving sweet yet again, but with less threat, as he watches you contentedly curl yourself up against his side. He sighs at the warmth that washes over him, thankful that fatigue has tamed you and fanned out that little spark and scratch you had earlier.
“Happy?” The smitten vampire asks, cheeky, smug as he pulls you closer into him, massaging your sore hips. “No need for you to go looking around for victims when you have me at your disposal, darling. I’d hate for you to lose sight on what really matters.”
You hum as if far away, you’d slap him in the morning that comes, but for now you’d let yourself be lulled into a soft, gentle slumber. A kiss on your head is the last thing you feel, a feeble little goodnight whispered.
#bg3 x reader#bg3 smut#karlach x reader#halsin x reader#astarion x reader#tav harem#um?#i dont wanna tag the other characters because i don’t think they were featured enough and i’d be clogging tags :')#this was very messy i wrote this on a whim#i do not like it but alas astarion’s scene is delightful
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Astarion x Chubby reader/Tav Headcanons because I'm tired of reading about Tav's perfect petite or hourglass body.
Some of the Headcanons get quite sexual so MDNI 18+ People ONLY. There's also some slight gore and mentions of Astarion's trauma.
Chubby Tav is going to be mentioned to be a Wizard with a noble background because that makes the most sense for a chubby adventurer in my mind!
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Astarion wasn't really attracted to your body at first.
Not that he found you ugly or anything it's just your physical appearance really wasn't that relevant to his plan.
What mattered to him was how well you carried yourself in a fight and how easy you'd be to string along.
You were a skilled Wizard with a tendency to be mercilessly cruel when you came across the most vile of villains.
Some asshole was murdering children? You cast a spell that caused him to slowly inflate until he exploded into bloody bits.
Some crazy bitch was torturing and using innocents for blood sacrifices? You took control of her own body and made her stab herself over and over.
And Astarion just ate that up.
Not that he cared for the sad pathetic welps in peril mind you.
But the bloodlust in your eyes as you dealt with those you considered unredeemable villains honestly made him feel a bit hot and bothered.
And the sheer magical prowess you displayed was rather impressive.
Plus you didn't bore him half to death with magical lectures like Gale did so that was nice.
As he began pursuing you, your insecurities became rather evident.
You would often dismiss his flirting or straight up ignore it.
Being told you were sexually unappealing all your life had really gotten to you. To the point where you just couldn't wrap your head around someone as beautiful as Astarion coming onto you.
But determined as ever to have you as his protection Astarion persisted.
Perhaps you'd never had a lover or perhaps you'd had far too many whom left you for someone they found more appealing.
Either way you were convinced Astarion's advances meant nothing.
That either he wanted something from you or he was simply mocking you like so many others had done in the past.
So when he finally is blunt enough to say he wants sex with you it's a big shock.
Your first response is to push back.
You tell him to quit messing with you because it was not funny!
He swears to you that his desire to sleep with you is genuine and begins to go so far as to list everything he finds alluring about you.
The taste of your blood.
The way your eyes sparkle when filled with bloodlust.
How gods damned sexy you looked covered in the blood of your foes.
When it was clear that he hadn't made any comments about your figure, you actually began to think perhaps he wasn't making fun of you.
It took some time to think about it, but eventually you decided to accept his offer the night of the tiefling party.
At first you're very hesitant to remove your clothes in fear of him immediately backing out once he was able to fully take in your plump form.
At that point Astarion strips down first and seductively coaxes you out of your clothes.
If you're AFAB he immediately becomes enamoured with your plump breasts, his first instinct is to start sucking on them like his life depends on it as his hands grope and caress the deliciously thick cushy curves of your hips and ass.
If you're AMAB he's a bit more grabby with your ass than anything else. He also makes flirty remarks on how big you are while teasingly grabbing your cock.
Either way on your first night together you let him take the lead, evil voices in your head telling you that if you were on top you'd crush him like some disgusting monstrous beast.
He doesn't press you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable and focuses mostly on your wants and pleasure.
Leaves a trail of kisses and licks all over your body, worshipping every inch of it.
If you express your insecurities with him, claiming you didn't think he'd want you because you were fat he brushes it off.
"Nonsense darling, there's just more of you to nibble on.~"
And he is sure to nibble on every inch of you.
Especially those thick thighs.
He loves drinking from you there before eating you out or sucking you off.
As he begins to develop actual feelings for you he feels the need to comfort you more about your insecurities.
Of course Astarion doesn't quite understand how to do comfort. Not having any of it himself for the past 200 years.
He tries to fix it with sex. Thinking perhaps if you felt desired these pesky insecurities would just go away.
He'd grab your ass and whisper lustful remarks about your body when no one was watching.
Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn't.
Eventually however things became much more complicated once Astarion came to the realization he was falling for you.
He found himself unable to 'perform' any longer. The guilt of manipulating you began to eat away at him.
Not to mention it was becoming harder and harder to come up with an excuse for why he didn't always seem fully present during intimacy with you. You were becoming more and more concerned. Which just made the guilt he felt grow.
You were too good for him!
He just knew you'd be crushed! Finally finding one person who actually desired you, only to discover it was all a lie!
You'd hate him for sure he just knew it!
But he couldn't do it any longer. You were kind to him. You actually cared about him.
And Gods damnit he knew what was like when people only care about your looks more than most.
You deserved better.
So he came clean and poured out his heart to you. Fully prepared for your anger and resentment.
But when it happened you just looked tired.
You confessed that deep down you knew it was all a manipulation.
Gods, the idea that someone as attractive as him would want you for your body was just ridiculous to you.
You really just wanted to pretend for a while.
To feel wanted and desired.
So in a way you used him too.
But then you too began to fall for him as well and began to dread when you'd eventually have to stop playing pretend.
After confession however you'd both agreed to start over, take things at a much slower pace.
And for the most part things were great!
Your late night trysts turned into cuddle sessions.
Astarion particularly loved using you as a pillow and snuggling into the warm, soft, cushion of your body.
If you ever felt the demons of insecurity eating away at you Astarion would immediately insist he didn't care what you looked like. He liked you for you.
Because you're you.
He had a little trouble wording it but it was sweet nonetheless.
When you finally reached Baldur's Gate there were a few hiccups in the road.
You were back amongst society and the eyes of the nobility who were a constant thorn in your side growing up.
Your father, the head of your family was intent on marrying you off to strengthen an alliance between another noble family and your own.
But despite his efforts most of the other patriar families were far too stuck up to accept his offer.
Deaming you as too unappealing to marry.
You didn't have any interest in an arranged marriage anyway, much too invested in your magical studies, but the rude comments from some of the other nobles still stung.
"My child is not being married off to a deep rothé!" One of them had actually said.
Now that you were back home the demons of your past began to plague your mind once again.
Astarion was there for you now however and tried to keep your mind off of things by reminding you that you both had a quest or two to finish!
If anyone were to make a rude comment out on the streets or sneer at you behind your back about how Astarion was way out of your league he would be quick to comfort you.
He'd pull you to the side and plant a wet kiss on your mouth right in front of any possible offenders.
And if any of them were to mysteriously disappear amongst the shadows of the night...
All the better.
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion my beloved#astarion x reader#astarion romance#bg3 tav#astarion#astarion x female tav#astarion x male tav#astarion x female reader#astarion x male reader#astarion x gn reader#astarion x gn!tav#astarion x chubby reader#Astarion x chubby Tav#noble tav#wizard tav#astarion x tav headcanons#Astarion x reader headcanons#2nd pov#don't expect this to be a regular thing btw#I'm a 3rd person lover#mdni#slight smut#astarion smut#astarion fluff#bg3 x reader
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