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sorceresssundries · 1 day

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Heatwave

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav

Summary: It is the final social event of the summer season, and Tav has dressed poorly for a festival in the midst of a heatwave. One-shot.

Warnings: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Sweat-licking, Smut.

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Another smutty Austen inspired work with a bit of fluff! This time in a universe outside of BG3. There definitely seems to be a weather theme in these one-shots. Maybe they'll fuck in the snow next, who knows?

The Festival of Shieldmeet had dominated conversations throughout the city all summer long. With the event occurring only once every four years, the anticipation had reached a fever pitch, rendering even the sweltering heatwave a minor inconvenience. The idea of postponing or, heaven forbid, cancelling such a revered social event due to something as minor as the weather was simply inconceivable.

The festival was being held in the sprawling grounds belonging to some Lord or Lady who had earned the privilege of hosting. In the heart of a large, manicured, bloom-laden garden stood a bandstand where bards were tuning their instruments, ready to serenade the guests with summer melodies. Alongside it stretched a long table adorned with dishes piled high with the richest Waterdhavian delicacies. Attendants in crisp uniforms weaved through the crowds, bearing trays laden with sparkling drinks in tall glasses, as well as refreshing juices and icy water. There also seemed to be tables scattered around with trays stacked with rolled up flannels sitting in ice, patiently waiting to be scooped up and dabbed at the forehead of the sweltering guests - These seemed to be a welcome addition, as there was scarcely any shade to be found anywhere.

Tav found herself in a state of utter misery. Seeking solace from the stifling crowds, she had retreated to the embrace of the shade beneath an oak tree bordering the garden, where she fervently fanned herself out of sight. She had naively and desperately assumed that the shade would cool her, but despite the protection from the sun’s direct attention the air was still just as cloying, and squeezed her with suffocating stillness. What she wouldn’t give for even the whisper of a breeze. The sad little paper fan she had acquired was doing very little work for her, just pushing the warmth forwards and heating her even further in her efforts to keep it moving.

For some inexplicable reason she couldn't recall, she had chosen to don her finest silk gown over a whalebone corset. It hugged her curves with an unforgiving grip, accentuating her form and lifting her breasts. With a smile as wide as her hips, she had admired herself in the mirror before departing. However, that smile faded the moment she stepped out of her cooled carriage and into the searing heat of the midday sun. She had immediately noticed the guests dressed in garments far more suited to the occasion than her own.

What a foolish notion this had been, she mused, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She had no idea what had driven this madness. Well.. she thought as she peeked out from behind the tree and across at the crowd gathered in the garden, maybe she had a slight idea.

Gale Dekarios was an exceptionally handsome man who exuded infuriating arrogance, boundless pride, and endless charm. From their first encounter at the spring ball, he had claimed her attention at every subsequent event. She had ‘accidentally’ stepped on his foot during one of their early dances, after he had explained to her his proficiency with magic and his gallant willingness to at least try and teach her some of his simpler spells. He had laughed at her annoyance, apologised profusely, and kissed her hand at the end of the evening. She had been aflame ever since.

Throughout the season, they had fallen into a familiar routine. Their ritual involved stealing glances at one another, offering subtle gestures of acknowledgment, and then both making a concerted effort not to meet eyes again. Yet, inevitably, one of them would find themselves drawn towards the other. It was a dance of restraint, leaving Tav exhilarated each time, despite the exhausting choreography. She was never really sure who was leading the dance, but at this moment, sweating and flustered and hiding behind a tree, Tav decided it probably wasn’t her.

As each evening would draw to a close, he would always bid her goodnight with a kiss upon her hand, each time lingering longer than the last, and tell her how much he was looking forward to their next meeting. Upon returning home, Tav would often find herself lost in fantasies, imagining his hand tangled in her hair, his lips tracing the curves of her body. More often than not, these night-time reveries ended with her own desperate touch and his name cried out from her lips.

In the privacy of sweet slumber, she would dream of their next encounter, eagerly anticipating another opportunity to engage in their dance and hoping to step on his feet once more.

Maybe she had more magic in her than she realised, as her very thoughts appeared to have summoned him to her hiding place.

“Ah, Miss Taventon. I thought I spotted you retreating all the way out here.” He greeted her with his customary charm. As always, he was a vision to behold, with his dark, mischievously glinting eyes and sweeping brown locks pulled back from his face. Clad in simple yet impeccably tailored attire—a snug waistcoat over a pristine white shirt, adorned with a luxurious silken cravat, and well-fitted breeches. Frustratingly, he looked completely unaffected by the blistering warmth, and Tav thought she must look like a sweating, breathless fool in comparison. She only had time to be embarrassed momentarily, before she realised the precarious nature of their situation. For the first time, they were properly alone together and Tav blushed at the thought of being found with him behind a tree so far away from the party. There would be a scandal.

“Mr. Dekarios, a pleasure.” She looked around to try and see if anyone would catch them in their compromising seclusion, but it appeared they were safe for now. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me a little affected by the heat. I was just after a moment of respite.” She began to fan herself more fervently.

“Understandable, I'm sure. For one not versed in magic.” His smugness had returned, and Tav always treated it as a welcome challenge.

“Well, not all of us are as exceptional as you” She batted her eyelashes at him sweetly and took in his cool, handsome appearance. “Let me guess, enchanted clothing?” He bowed his head in confirmation of her appraisal, still looking smug and annoyingly unflustered by the heat. “A shame it could not chill your ego, but alas, I suppose your talent has to end somewhere.”

His smile in return was genuine. He very much enjoyed her banter. Almost as much as he enjoyed seeing her sweating under the shade of the giant oak tree.

He raised a hand in mock defeat. “Peace, my lady. I came bearing a gift. In an effort to cool your skin, and perhaps even your temper.” She really was ravishing in this state, he thought, overheated and fiery. He wondered whether she was aware of his true intentions in seeking her out. It was the final event of the summer season, and as such, their elaborate game would have to come to an end.

As she reached out to accept the cool towel he offered, a surge of boldness seized him. With a swift motion, he closed the distance between them until he was almost pressed against her, and with a tender touch, he placed the cold flannel against the side of her neck. He had hoped it would elicit a reaction from her, at the very least a small gasp of surprise, but she remained silent. She just watched him as the droplets from the towel trailed slow down her neck, caressing her collarbone in the way his fingers ached to, and gathering to rest glistening on the shelf of her breasts which had been pushed up by her corset.

He had thoughts of ripping it off her. The silk of her dress would tear like tissue in his practised hands, and he would cast the tatters of it into the wind and spend an entire afternoon finding where the pools of her sweat gathered. He ached to know what undergarments she was wearing, what colour, how the material would taste if he pressed his tongue against. It. He hoped it was white cotton, something the scent and taste of her would cling to - so damp with sweat and desire that he would be able to see her dark curls through the material.

He could feel the cooling enchantment wrapped round him waning as his concentration and resolve were tested. Damn heat. Damn woman. She knew exactly what she was doing. Who wears a silk-wrapped corset in a heatwave? Each bead of sweat and whisper of her heated musk was a siren’s call, and he was determined to drown himself in the ocean of her.

“I am no expert in fashion, Miss Taventon, but I must question the decision to wear a silk gown in such conditions. Surely linen, or cotton would have been preferable? Or maybe one enjoys the sensations brought on by basking in such stifling heat?” His tone was more frustrated than he meant it to be.

“I thought it would be light and cooling, Saer. Not all of us are gifted with the ability to enchant our clothing.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and wondered if every item he was wearing was enchanted.. She quickly snapped out of her musings “An unfortunate error on my part, I hadn’t taken into account the lack of breeze, or the…”

“Stickiness?” He said, focusing intently on dabbing her neck and chest with the flannel and not meeting her eyes.

“The humidity. Yes.”

He took a break from his attentions and discarded the flannel, to take a leisurely sip of his drink. The droplets of condensation cascaded down the glass like tiny beads of sweat. Tav couldn't help but watch, a pang of envy stirring within her as she observed the icy water slip downwards and through his fingers. There was too much electric heat here, strung out in the very air, no amount of cool water would save her. She needed to be swathed by him, to smother the flames until they burnt out into ash. Even then, she was certain there would be embers enough to fan back to roaring flame at just one breathy word from him. She was doomed kindling.

The soft clink of ice against glass filled the air as he drank, his gaze never wavering from hers. With intent, he parted his lips slightly, allowing a single ice cube to slide into his mouth. She couldn't tear her eyes away as he savoured it, rolling it around his mouth with his tongue.

“Most refreshing.” He breathed, after a long, heavy swallow, “Could I tempt you with a sip?”

“I..Maybe.. This heat has caused quite a desperate thirst. Although I notice you have only brought one glass. How impolite of you” She dropped her fan to the ground in vexation, stupid thing was not doing anything to help. There was no saving her now.

He smirked and bowed his head slightly. “Not to worry, dear lady.” His eyes darkened and his voice became a heated command. “Open your mouth for me”

At first there was shock, but then without question she did as she was told, like a girl entranced. With a deft movement of his fingers, he plucked another ice cube from his glass and placed it delicately on her waiting tongue.

Tav saw a chance and took it.

Before he could withdraw his hand, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and the surprise in his eyes lit her like a firework. She burned for these moments, for any slip in his resolve, any evidence behind the refinery and politeness that there were things she could do that would shock him. If there was a crack in his armour, she would slip in like water and drown him in sin.

Locking eyes with him, she held his gaze steady as she took control. With a boldness she hadn't known she possessed, she leaned forward and enveloped his fingers in her mouth, sucking gently and letting the ice cube melt against her tongue in a sweet rush of cold. It was a calculated move, a daring play, and as she released his hand, a flicker of satisfaction fluttered in her eyes. The game was afoot, and she was changing the rules.

She let go of his fingers, and smiled innocently. “How right you are as always, Mr.Dekarios. Most refreshing.” She lilted, still sucking on the remnants of the ice in her mouth.

He had suddenly lost his footing. The blood that was keeping him focused and leading their little game had suddenly re-routed elsewhere, and he was struggling to compose thoughts. He had no words, so actions would have to do.

He drew closer to her, the space between them shrinking, and he reached out his hand to trace a delicate path from the warmth of her flushed cheek, along the elegant curve of her jaw, down to the hollow of her throat. There, just above the gentle rise and fall of her bosom, he noticed a glistening bead of sweat, which he captured with his fingertip. Bringing it to his lips, he savoured it, and made a noise of growling satisfaction. Her breath hitched beautifully in response.

"It appears you're still uncomfortably warm. I'd hardly be a gentleman if I allowed you to suffer like this." With a languid sip of his drink, he popped another ice cube into his mouth.

“You are no…”

He aimed to catch off guard before she could finish. He closed what little gap was left between them and all playfulness burned away in the heat, leaving nothing but desperation. Fuck games, fuck dancing around each other, and fuck that ridiculous silk dress she was wearing. She had won their game, and her prize would be for him to take her the way he had been wanting to for the entire summer.

His glass fell to the ground with no thought at all, and he grabbed at her waist. Pushing her back against the tree and pinning her there with a leg between her thighs. He finally earned a gasp of surprise from her, as he pushed his lips against her throat, and pressed the ice cube against her pulsing skin with his tongue.

The noise she made was tantalisingly balanced between relief and desire, and he kept the ice firmly against her as he moved it further down her neck, mimicking the trail of sweat his finger had traced earlier. He delighted in the way her skin prickled as the ice caressed her. She was divine. He wanted to tease her until she lost all of her brazen stares and cutting banter, and all that was left was a puddle of a woman. He wanted to undo her the way he would her clothes, and watch her fall apart under his hands, his tongue, the push of his hips…

"Someone... Will..." Her voice came out in gasping pleas as he continued caressing her with the ice. "Find us..." He needed to remove that damn corset soon; restricted breathing wasn't conducive to the way he wanted to hear her cry out for him— completely unbound. A fleeting desire crossed his mind to restrain her in other ways, at other times. But for now, he simply needed to see how the heat had flushed her body, with as little material between them as possible.

“You think I would allow anyone else to see you like this? I am not a man who shares his treasure.” His cocky little grin made a slight reappearance as he pulled his lips away from her damp skin to meet her eyes and offer some cooling sincerity. “A spell has been cast, no one will see nor hear us. You are safe with me, my dream. Always.”

He lost himself to a moment of softness, and caressed her face with total adoration.

“I have craved the taste of you all summer. The sun itself could not burn me in the way you have. I am a scorch mark, I am the cindered ashes of all restraint. You are my sun. And no one else will gaze upon you the way I will.”

There was no response adequate to match the sudden delicacy of his words, leaving Tav momentarily speechless. In that fleeting moment of enraptured, adoring silence, Gale misunderstood her reaction, his beautiful face falling with concern, fearing he had unwittingly caused her distress.

“Tell me you do not desire me, that this soft heat inflaming you is not at least partly caused by your feelings for me. Tell me I have imagined your eyes searching for me, your playful need for my hands on you as we dance, and I will leave it at this. I will have spent a summer loving you, and it will have been the brightest and warmest of all my seasons.”

He loved her. The air suddenly felt lighter. He was the breeze she had been craving.

Her bright smile cracked through the initial shock of his confession, and relief swept over him like a tide. “I know you have a vivid imagination, Mr. Dekarios. But put it away, it is not needed here. I have attended each event only in the hope of being in your presence. It seems we both have had a summer well spent.” She kissed him then; sweetly, lovingly and he laughed enough for the crinkles between his eyes to appear.

It did not take long for the damned dress to be torn from the skin of her sweat-slicked body. For the corset to be ripped from its bindings. For the softness of her breasts to find their place against his tongue, nipples peaking as though the heat didn’t exist, his hot breath and cool tongue creating a heady mix of magic which made her skin sing.

Tomorrow, there would be rough marks on her back from the bark of the tree - but for now the slight pain only added to the overwhelming sensations which crawled their way over her body, her sweat mingling with his as he tore off his shirt and pressed himself against her. Caging her against the trunk. His skin was cool against hers, and steam danced between them as though melted steel was being forged by cool water. He was hard, she could feel it.

His tongue flattened at her skin of her neck and her breasts, and licked away the lust-induced sweat his affection had caused. The fresh, salty taste may as way have been laced with liquor for the effect it was having on him. She tasted of sweet wine with the faint hint of salt. It was subtle, but he needed something richer. His attention moved downwards, and It was not long till he reached that most sacred place, where he had been aching to lose himself in scent and taste. He took his time and inhaled her. Using his nose to caress her sweet spot as he relished in the full-bodied flavour of her.

As soon as his mouth began lavishing her, she realised he had somehow extended the cooling enchantment to his tongue. Her head was thrown back against the tree in ecstasy, the press of his mouth against her quickly becoming too much for her to handle. There was a brief moment of self-consciousness, where she worried about how the heat of the day would affect her taste. But the worry was soon lost, the thought drowned out by the sound of his appreciation and the realisation that he was stroking himself as he devoured her.

He was dedicated in his endeavour, although no amount of skin-tingling magic would be able to balm the fire coursing through her veins. She thought she would never cool, that she would be a woman on fire for the rest of her love-fuelled days. The sensation was mesmeric, and she could not remember a sweeter sensation than this man on his knees in front of her, face buried between her legs and using his tongue to caress her with such enthusiasm she felt as though she would fall apart. And fall apart she did. It was euphoric, and her hands gripped his hair fiercely as she crashed over rocks in reckless pleasure.

When he came back up to meet her he was breathless and lust-drunk, giddy as a school-boy and stoked as a bonfire. “There has never been a sweeter taste than you, my love.” He kissed her then, languidly, passionately - intent on sharing the riches of his exploration. Tav could taste herself in his kiss. They may as well have been sharing wine between their lips.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, Gale, I swear I will combust.”

He laughed at this. At the desperation, at the slight annoyance in her voice, at the fact this was the first time she had ever said his given name and she had thrown it at him as a demand to push her against the tree and bury himself inside her. What a woman.

He needed no further invitation; shedding the confines of his breeches, he pressed himself slowly into her warmth, and she made the most delicious groaning sound he had ever heard. This woman could drive him to madness, and thankfully he was aware that his earlier attentions ensured he need not be overly gentle. Knowing that his endurance would be short-lived, thanks to the fervour he had stoked within himself while bringing her to climax against his tongue, he abandoned all pretense of restraint. Together they were primal, the tension that had been building between them releasing in pure, carnal desire.

Though a gentleman might have exercised more self-control, such decorum was a luxury he couldn't afford in the presence of such irresistible temptation. Stripped of his clothes, he found himself as vulnerable to the unrelenting heat of the day as Tav, and soon, his focused, determined passion ignited a sheen of sweat upon his skin.

Tav’s payback could not have been any sweeter, as soon as she noticed the sweat trickling down his neck she took her chance and licked it from his bronzed, silken skin. His response was a delicious, low moan and his rhythm faltered into something more urgent, unbound. His grip tightening, one of his hands found its way to rest gently against her throat so he could feel the deep moans rumbling against his palm as he fucked her.

“I love you” She breathed. And that’s all it takes. He is suddenly hurtling over a precipice and into sweet, tight oblivion.

They both collapse onto the ground, sweaty, burnt-out, euphoric. And they fall into uninhibited laughter as they realise they can hear the band playing a jaunty tune in the distance, and the chatter of the ever-growing crowd is closer than they initially thought.

“You are still hidden from prying eyes, my dream.” Gale offered reassurance as he kissed her head. “And I will conjure up some suitable clothing for you, don’t worry.”

“That is most generous of you Saer, but please - by the Gods, no corset and no silk.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #gale dekarios #gale fanfic #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep

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bongwaterbunny · 2 days

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btw gale loses all composure when hes horny. can't even make out the words "please" or "thank you", he just starts to dote on you and, when he's particularly needy, he'll grind up against you and paw at your clothes until you get the hint. he told me himself.

#baldurs gate gale #bg3 shitpost #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #bg3 gale #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 companions #bg3 posting #gale romance #gale smut #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale x tav #the wizard of waterdeep

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meorix · 2 days

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ʙᴀʟᴅᴜʀ'ꜱ ɢᴀᴛᴇ 3 4/∞

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate tav #bg3 gif #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #mine #edit #my edit #my gif #gamingedit #meorix #gale

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spellbooking · 2 days

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The stars will be our bed.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 gif #tay.gif #gamingedit #bg3 edit #bg3edit #oc: othello nulara #otp: touched by the weave

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secret-smut-sideblog · 1 day

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Warm Blood

Gale / Astarion x F! Tav

(Warm Water part 3, can be read alone)

18+ miscommunication, misplaced anger, sex as a tool, yearning, confessed feelings, urgent sex, restraint, dom Gale, oral (f!), fingering (f!), masturbation (m!), marking, a little silliness

With a sanguine competitor now circling with the large druid, Gale can no longer put off his advances...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

She hissed gently as he readjusted his hold. He would have to find a new vein it seemed. Even with him closing her wounds, their nightly feeding sessions left her skin tender to touch.

Her generosity staggered him. His body feeling far better in these last few weeks than it had in centuries. Lithe and strong. The bone aching cold he had resigned himself to thawed by her warm blood, her molten body pressed against his when he fed. Her rich blood nourishing him to his core.

Though, their arrangement made him uncomfortable on a fundamental level. She not only didn't gain anything in this exchange, she actively lost something. It was too unbalanced, and he'd be a fool if he thought the other shoe wasn't poised to drop. She would want something in return eventually, and there was only one thing he could offer.

Taking slow mouthfuls, he wound his hands around her waist. Kneading the flesh languidly.

It had baffled him when she had politely turned him down at the tiefling party. She was so handsy and touch driven, he was sure seducing her would have been rather easy. Though, there was still time. As far as he could tell she wasn't tied to anyone yet, though there were several circling already.

He slid the movements of his mouth from purely practical to sensual. Kissing and suckling gently as he drank.

She hummed, stroking his hair through her fingers.

Finding that encouraging, he slid one hand around her hip. The other rising to her ribcage, heading north.

She froze then. "Astarion, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He purred, licking her wound closed with far more tongue than needed. Dragging a flat line up her neck. "Tasting you, darling."

"Why?" Her tone genuinely curious.

He scoffed, pulling back. "What do you mean why? You're beautiful."

"I am, but that doesn't answer my question."

Gods she was aggravating. Heat rose to his neck, her blood fueling the rush.

"Is it so unbelievable that I would want you? You must know your company is highly sought after." He tried for more compliments to loosen her up. But no dice.

"Huh, interesting." She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, lips pursing in thought. "So it's out of obligation."

He threw his hands up, eyes rising to the roof of his tent. His frustration breaking his mask.

"Of course it's out of obligation!"

Far too late, he realized what he said. Eyes lowering to hers slowly. Anxiety throttling his spine.

She only tilted her head at him slightly.

"It's okay. You don't have to, Astarion." She held her hand palm up. "Are you still hungry?"

He blinked at her. Anger flaring through him again. Though for what he couldn't pinpoint.

"So I just drink you dry every night, and you get nothing in return?" He retorted.

"How do you figure I get nothing out of this?" She asked in that aggravating curious tone, not matching his anger at all.

"Gods, don't give me that." His voice rose, standing and starting to pace. "That's not how the world works! There is give and take, and all I've done is take!"

She watched him continue to tirade quietly, appearing to just be listening. Somehow, that made him more heated.

Soon he slowed, his rant winding down. She watched patiently, open and waiting for him.

"Are you ready to hear what I think?" The question genuine and not rhetorical.

He huffed, breath still hard from his efforts.

"Fine. What?" He sniped, aware that he was being childish but too wound up to stop.

"I think you and I have a lot more in common than you realize, and I think I understand more than you give me credit for."

She paused, gathering her thoughts. "When all you get from people is pain, that's what you come to find in them. Even when it's not there. And when you don't get it, it's frightening. Yes?"

The air vanished from his lungs. Her eyebrows raised slightly, seeing that she had gotten through to him.

"In the Underdark, the only hand that reached for you was painful." She pulled up her sleeve, the tapestry of scars criss-crossing her dark skin revealed to him. "So that's what you naturally associate touch with. Anger. Fear of the flesh is survival."

She smoothed her fingers in a self soothing arc across the deep tissue. "You think I seek out touch because I'm naive, or even easy."

She looked up at him, those topaz eyes cutting straight through him. "But I know pain, Astarion. Intimately. I understand deeply why you have come to where you are, why you need to push others away. It's safe that way, yeah?"

He could only nod.

"You're right. It is safer." She conceded, smiling. Pulling her sleeve down. "Can't fault you for that. But I'm greedy, I want more than just safe. And touch is so much more than pain when you let it be."

His jaw clenched, biting back the lump that had risen in his throat. Wanting to retort, but finding no words that could validate him.

His hand shot forward, pulling her into him. Her soft lips sliding against his. Pulsing out his frustration into her plush mouth, needing so much more than he had taken.

She kissed him back tenderly, saying her piece. Not falling into his angry pit for a moment. Her soft touch in clear defiance to his inciting.

He pulled away, hearing footsteps approaching.

"Everything alright? I heard shouting." Gale lifted the flap of his tent. Making eye contact with her punctured throat with clear distaste.

"It's okay, thank you for checking." She responded warmly.

Astarion glared at him over her shoulder, the wizard giving him an equally leveling look.

"I think we could use some space, actually." She said impartially, turning to him. "Are you okay to stop for the night? I could give you a few bottles."

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I think I can manage not withering away without this copious doting, darling."

She patted his arm, nodding. "I'll bring the bottles."

"Has anyone ever told you you're infuriating?"

She only smiled at him, turning to take Gale's upturned hand. Rising out of his tent. The flap falling closed on him alone again.

He flopped face down, groaning.

After she quietly dropped off two bottles of blood at the entertance to the crimson tent, Gale took her small warm hand in his. Leading her to the view overlooking the edge of the city. They were so close, the precipice at their fingertips.

She sighed wistfully, pulling him to sit with her on the grass.

"Baldur's Gate." She mused dreamily. "I wonder if it's as awful as I've heard."

He barked out a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure it's just atrocious. We're sure to hate it."

She laughed too, then gave a little thoughtful wince. "Ooh, Halsin is definitely going to hate it."

He was sure the druid was a fine person, but given his leanings, Gale was less concerned.

"Well, he can always stay outside. Who knows how much room our new camp will have anyway..."

She rolled her eyes at him, knocking her knee against his.

He caught her knee in his hand before she could pull it back. Rubbing his thumb in slow circles.

She slid up flush to him easily, leaning her head into the curve his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered, the backs of her knuckles gently knocking on his chest.

"Ah, that." He chuckled, slightly embarrassed at her concern. "Oh, you know. Heartache is nothing new to me."

She leaned her head back and sighed dramatically at his joke, the edge of a smile on her lips.

"Just awful. I'm never asking again." She shook her head in solemn jest.

"Oh, please do. The healing touch of your disdain is tantamount to mending my heart."

He paused then, nerves fraying. The smell of his lavender in her hair bolstering him in a soft smile.

"I have been meaning to speak to you. About matters of the heart."

She turned to him, topaz eyes bright in the moonlight. Thick spirals of dark hair cascading down her back. Gods, she was so beautiful it made him dizzy.

He turned his gaze to the ground, picking up a smooth stone and turning it over in his palm. Having something to touch always helped him think.

"I've come to fancy you. Quite a lot. Though this is not the proper way I would have preferred to court you. In the dirt and blood." He sighed, wishing things were different.

"You must know you're... you're very special to me. I hope I'm special to you too, but if I'm misguided just say the word and I'll back off."

The words tumbled out of him, a vexing blush rising to his cheeks. Feeling like a school boy confessing a crush.

Her body shifted, standing on knees. In one fluid motion she hooked her leg around and straddled his lap. Bringing his eyes to hers in a hand tenderly cupping his face.

His breath was entirely taken, dropping the stone he had been holding with a soft thunk.

"Took you long enough." She teased, her dimpled smile making his heart rush.

"I fancy you too, Gale. And I'd like to show you that, if you'll let me." She hushed, her body heat radiating into his torso.

He could only nod, all blood rushing away from unimportant higher functions. Hands gripping her wide hips in a groan, the sensation far better than he ever could have imagined.

Her hands wound into his hair, pushing a heady kiss into him with a little whimper.

His eyes rolled up into his lids, just the kiss sending him under. Hand rising to the small of her back. Her lips pulsing into his with slick need. Tongue dancing along the seam of his lips in question.

He opened happily, a hungry moan leaving him when their tongues twisted. Both hands palming her ass greedily. The ample globes of flesh kneading in his fingers, her smothered mewl sending impossibly more blood to his already straining cock.

All of her touch spun around him in a lustful haze, far too much and not nearly enough.

He pulled his shirt over his head in a whip, only leaving her lips for a single moment. Her hands finding his trousers, palming him over his sleep pants.

"Fuck," He hissed, it felt too good already. Precum pooling far too soon for his liking. His body touch starved and hungrier than it had any right to be. Trying to force the tunnel vision of promised release open again.

He pushed forward, twisting her down onto her back. His hands rising under her sleep shirt to caress the unbearably soft curve of her waist.

"By the Weave..." He muttered, her body far too intoxicating. Cock throbbing insistently.

He felt completely lost, head nothing but liquid desire. Leaning down to kiss sloppily along her waist. Pushing her shirt up to her clavicle.

She squirmed under him, breath fast pants. Pulling his hair back in a fist, watching him with lust blown eyes and kiss swollen lips.

Gods, how was he already close. He couldn't be this down bad, could he?

Oh who was he kidding, of course he was.

He pulled her bralette down, her breasts springing free. A growl vibrated in his chest at the sight, gripping the front of the band, pulling it down onto her ribs.

He pulled back to slip her leggings off of her, revealing her arching hips, hip bones sliding underneath. Thighs wide and plush, dipping into her hips. Her legs falling back open, the curve of her ass teasing under her. Slick pooling from her gleaming cunt.

"Oh, come on..." He huffed, just the sight stroking down his cock in a rush. "That's not fair."

"You're one to talk. Why do you look like that wizard?" She scoffed. "All those muscles, for what? Seducing poor quivering maidens in the grass..."

"Oh, we'll get to the quivering." He smiled dangerously, leaning down to lick a stripe up her hip bone.

She whined, arching her hips up more into his mouth. The heat coming off of her cunt soaking his clavicle.

Gods below and above spare him.

Trailing his mouth down, his cock twitched in anticipation. His practiced mouth about to be seated where it longed to be. Where it belonged.

He breathed in a deep pull of her, nose nuzzling into her curls. Gods, she was divine. Her sweet musk making his mouth salivate. Truly he had been deprived before this moment.

Her hips starting rolling impatiently, and he pushed a forceful hand flat to her lower belly in response. No, he was going to savor this.

She moaned under his hold, bringing a smile to his lips. So she liked it like that...

He breathed a warm wave of air on her cunt, watching it twitch in what he knew was a clench in a devious smile.

"You bastard..." She groaned, the need apparent in her voice sending a shiver down his back.

"Language..." He chuckled. The lack of touch making her writhe deliciously under his hold.

"I'll show you language." She scoffed.

Grabbing both sides of his face she pulled his eyes up to hers.

"Bite me, choke me. Hold me down and spit in my mouth. Tongue fuck me like a whore, wizard."

His pelvis clenched, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. Hand clawing into her thigh.

"Oh Gods." He groaned, finally diving on her cunt.

He lapped his tongue in undulating waves, slurping her clit into his lips.

"Fuck!" She cried out, gripping his hair hard in her fist.

He suckled down hard, suctioning his lips around the bundle. Tongue pulsing wet curved pulls. Hands keeping her thighs forced open as they tried to clamp shut around his head.

Her high keening whines melded beautifully with the slurping sounds of his hungry mouth.

Her hips bucked helplessly against his hands, ribs arching up. Only the underside of her jaw visible above him.

He smiled into her cunt, releasing one thigh and pushing his forearm into the apex of her thighs. A bar holding her open still, his two fingers sliding slowly into her. Humming into her clit in pleasure, fingers spreading eagerly into the velvet slick pouring up into his palm.

Her head shot up, staring down at him almost in disbelief. Hand bracing her at her side.

When he began strong and slow thrusts of his fingers, her head fell back sharply. Voice only mewling calls. Thoroughly tamed, warm and pliant under his devotion.

He knew this was as close to the heavens as he had ever gotten. Harnessing all of his senses to bottle this into his everlasting memory. Though he imagined it would be very hard to forget.

He curved his fingers up, stroking that ridged bump in hard thrusts. Clamping down on her clit again, lapping his tongue in hollow pulls, like slurping soup.

"Oh Gods," She whined.

He groaned hot into her, chasing her hips up as they tried to squirm away. Free hand grabbing her waist and pulling her back down hard. He was not even close to done.

Fingers arcing into her in vicious thrusts, unrestrained. He wrenched his head quickly side to side, sucking down in popping wet pulses of his lips.

She cried out, her pelvis tremoring hard. Unable to hold her thighs open anymore as they arched up and clenched down around his head. Muffling around his ears. Cunt clenching in hard flutters around his fingers. He looked up, drinking in her arching ribcage and scrambling hands. A strike of fluid striking his jaw. Sending his eyes up into his skull.

His hips fucked into the ground, unable to still them any longer. Removing his fingers to slurp her cum into his mouth uninhibited. Pushing out of her in creamy pulses. Greedily lapping all he could catch, rubbing into her clit to encourage more.

She let out indignant pleading whines, but he wasn't done yet. His cunt slicked fingers gripping around his cock. Drinking her cum as he fucked into his fist.

Only two or three thrusts and he was gone, wrenching ropes up his belly. Pelvis clenching in vicious pulses, shooting pleasure through his body in teeth gritting waves. The endless ache behind his navel firing out in tortuous strikes. Hand bracing next to her hip in the dirt desperately.

His mouth slowed then stopped, panting hard into her thigh. Resting his head into the seam of her hip, thoroughly spent.

"That good huh?" She teased, her own breath telling of equal pleasure.

Head still down, he held his finger up in a signal to give him a minute.

She giggled, thoroughly pleased. "My, my, Gale at a loss for words. Wait until camp hears about this..."

He looked up, glaring at her in jest. "Don't you dare."

She smiled wide. "Hmm, I dont know... It's a pretty monumental thing to go unnoted. It would be a shame to keep to myself."

He trailed up her body, balancing on elbows above her. She gave him a pout, eyes wide in mock pleading.

"How else is everyone suppose to know I'm yours?"

His cock stirred again, huffing out a groan.

"Tav, you're killing me." He admonished. She only bit her lip in a smile at him.

"Well, if you don't want me telling everyone, you better leave your mark on me." She purred, turning her chin up. Eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Oh, that I can do." He smiled, angling his head down to her neck. Pulling the soft flesh between his teeth.

She laughed then moaned, that little whimper he was already addicted to in her throat again.

Oh, it was hopeless. They were going to be here all night.

#back once again with dom gale propaganda and ill never be sorry #gale x tav #astarion x tav #gale smut #bg3 smut #screenshots by @cybersdead and @dailygale #lyrics from: gods country - ethel cain

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tee-dohrnii · 3 days

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Ooooo I wanna make a comic so bad but idk how but I'm trying to cook here

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #galetav #bg3 tav #bg3 gale #bg3 fanart #gale x tav #stormweave #listen i'm trying out here #every Gale fanart I do is me stepping out of my comfort zone yeesh

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redreart · 3 days

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Commish for @elspethdekarios 💜

#gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 gale #gale #gale romance #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate fanart #baldurs gate #commission #art

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easy-there-leftovers · 3 days

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Can be read as a continuation to my previous work about Gale, but can also be read independently.

Today had been a tiring day, especially for their de-facto leader, Gale thinks. The situation at the goblin village could have turned for the worse had you not smooth talked your way through.

And yet you’ve gone back to dueling the fire with your eyes again, he notes. However unlike last time, he chooses to stay put in his own corner of the camp.

Given his last attempt at light but stimulating conversation, he’s mostly sure that he will never do such a thing ever again. Lest he wants to feel the less than comfortable stares of everyone awake when he returns to his tent.

Alone and unaccompanied.

Doesn’t mean that he can’t observe you from here though. While he should be reading up on a rather interesting book he picked up from today’s skirmish, the pages haven’t been graced with his eyes quite nearly as much as your form.

Naturally, he doesn’t realize this until something, or rather someone, catches his attention.

Astarion.

Usually not one to leave his own comfortable area of the camp, it was surprising to see him choose to settle in at a bedroom nearer the fire.

To approach you in such a manner. Almost as if you were familiar with another.

“Which couldn’t be since you would have only met one another after the crash,” he reasons.

He makes a comment from his lax position on his bedroll. Opens the conversation with you the same way that he’s certain he did a few nights ago, and yet the response couldn’t be more different.

The action draws what looks to be an exasperated sigh from you, but Gale notices your eyes soften at the elf’s remark. You don’t turn to face him, but still respond while focusing on the camp’s light.

Astarion stands to be nearer to you, perhaps trying to convince you of something, as he slings an arm around your shoulder. Face, nearing yours. The thumb of his slung-over hand seemingly grazing the skin of your exposed collarbone, uncovered by the looser strings of your shirt.

Gale feels his jaw slacken as he watches this very scene unfold before him. The book, long forgotten as the strength in his arm wanes, almost dropping it. He feels his eyes bug out of his skull when he sees you place your hand on top the pale fellow’s in what he can only assume is an affectionate gesture.

He’ll admit, perhaps he wasn’t paying attention to you earlier in the days you reunited. With the way you were avoiding him, it seemed like you wanted him to forget you existed or pretend like you didn’t know each other.

But how could he?

How could he when you inspired him so?

How could he when your wit and creativity showed him more ways the weave could be practiced?

How could he when he knew that all your friends had always been more like Aatarion’s type, and that you’ve always seemed to avoid his?

He supposed he shouldn’t be be surprised then, if he claims to know you so well. It was inevitable that you would warm up to the elf so quickly. Alike in charm and nerve.

And if you still haven’t warmed up to the wizard in the years of study you shared, he doubts you ever will.

Ah, but where will all this conjecture get him? He’s still dealing with the loss of Mystra’s favor and it’s vicious consequences. What use would it be to watch like this?

He takes one last look at your joined hands before he sees you respond and heads in to his tent. Perhaps a bit of rest will help temper whatever wave of emotions it is that washes over him.

“Astarion.” You warn with your warmer hand atop his.

“Hm?”

You turn your head to look at him and you’re greeted by that self-aggrandizing smirk that always curls up on his face.

The sight makes you sigh. No answer to his earlier question will get you out of this.

Tricky bastard.

“Your fingers are cold.” He clicks his tongue at that, but removes himself from your form anyway. A catty, “you’re no fun” leaving his lips as he distances himself from you.

He smiles anyway and tilts his head to the side. Standing to rest all his weight on one leg, and waves you off with one hand.

“I’ll see you later, I’m sure.” You shakes your head at that and turn to leave.

“Good night Astarion.”

“Sweet dreams, dear mage.”

He’s convinced you enough to try.

#bg3 x reader #not proofread #I’m going to sleep now #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #Gale of Waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale of waterdeep x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 gale x tav #gale dekarios #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale bg3 #bg3 gale

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galesdevoteewife · 1 day

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Was looking for a pose reference so I went back to take some screenshots and got this and I think... I can't think...... Whatever you want, YES

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ashprince-of-bel-air · 12 hours

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Excuse me but how can I live my life knowing that this exists. I need him to be real.

#bg3 gale #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #baldurs gate 3 gale

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weaveandwood · 20 hours

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Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Two

Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read on AO3 | Read Part One | 1K words

Summary:

After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Gale Dekarios was a wizard of intentionally lesser renown, a respected professor at Blackstaff Academy, and engaged to the love of his life. His life was enchanted until he came home to an empty tower, and he has been seeing ghosts ever since.

He saw her ghost everywhere. She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.

AN: There will be a Part 3 to conclude this and it will be out later this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on what was supposed to be a one-shot that has taken over my brain completely.

He saw her ghost everywhere.

She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. He knew her leaving was inevitable the more their conversations became stilted, the more they floated in each other's orbits, the more foreign her touch became. But the tower still smelled like her, still felt like her presence was just around the corner. Still felt like they could have had a chance to fix things. He heard her in his head all night long as he wept in his study.

It’s not real. She’s not here.

She haunted him on his walk back from visiting his mother two weeks later, the first time he left his house. He had tried to lay low after she left him, but her name followed him like a poltergeist from the mouths of those he passed on the street, whispering to their friends about who he was, who she was. Wondering how it ended.

It's not real. She’s not here.

She haunted him when he was in the market four months after she left. He didn’t want to be there. Everything reminded him of her - the cart they would visit once a tenday to buy her favorite sweet rolls, the jewelry store he visited in secret to get her silver ring that was still on the entry table gathering dust. He saw a flash of her hair color and froze. When time regained its ability to move forward he strained his neck, pushing through the crowd searching for her, unable to breathe. Could it be her? Where had she been all these weeks? Was she okay? Had she moved on with someone else who was less tied down by routine? Was she even still alive?

It wasn’t her, of course. He didn’t go to the market again after that. He still hasn’t.

It’s not real. She’s not here.

Seasons passed. Festivals, new apprentices, weekly dinners with colleagues - life fell into a rhythm that helped him move forward. He saw her ghost less and less. It had been almost 6 months since the last haunting. He had finally tucked the silver ring into a drawer two tendays ago, an attempt to bury the what ifs and if onlys and begin to exorcize her from his memory at last. Midwinter in Waterdeep was upon him, and he was eager to engage in festivities that evening with colleagues, now friends. A few cups of wine and he felt like the old Gale, showing off a little by using his well-honed magic to create fireworks to fill the room with light and color.

As the illusion sparked and fizzled out to the delight and applause of the other partygoers, a familiar wisp settled itself in the peripheries of his mind. She always loved his illusions, from their first night together with the aurora and the sparkling stars to the smaller ones he created for her everyday in the beginning. If he had kept trying to make her happy, would she have left? If he had noticed her pulling away as he settled into the routine of his life, could he have brought her closer instead of making her feel like her only option was to run?

He set his cup down, the wine steering him toward paths his brain wasn’t ready to go back down yet, preferring to stay focused on the revelry at hand. The snow flurries caught his eye through the large picture window in the front room. He had always loved the snow and moved to the window to watch it in contemplative silence.

He froze, his eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.

Her ghost. Haunting him even here, even now, after all this time. Her hair, her eyes, everything just as he remembered from the morning she left him, standing across the street looking into the window he was currently occupying. Looking at him. He saw the ghost’s eyes widen, saw her quickly turn to walk away, to escape discovery. He wanted to hesitate. He wanted to accept it was just another vision brought on by too many cups of wine, another falsehood of his imagination...but one tiny spark of hope pulled at his mind.

The ghost had never reacted to him like that before.

He didn’t remember moving. He didn’t remember running out of the door, the rest of the partygoers gasping as the usually reserved Gale Dekarios knocked over a chair and pushed people out of his way. He didn’t remember the bite of the cold air. He didn’t remember yelling “Stop!” as the ghost moved quickly away, trying to toy with him, as always. He didn’t remember running down the street to catch up to the ghost, preparing himself for it to disappear as usual. He didn’t remember the desperation on his face or in his voice as he reached for her.

He remembered grabbing on to the ghost’s hand, feeling it solid in his. His heart pounded.

“Wait. Please,” he said, panting. The ghost turned around, but it wasn’t a ghost at all.

She was real. She was here.

“Gale,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

“You’re real. You’re here,” he whispered back, wrapping her in his arms, committing to memory how she felt as he held her tightly for the first time in over a year. It was only then he realized that her absence had permeated every facet of his being and he felt like he could finally breathe again. His lips crashed against hers, time standing still for the two of them as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She took a step back, breaking their contact, looking down at the ground.

He knew. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

“Tomorrow,” she nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

He placed his hands on both sides of her face, brushing away her sadness before kissing her deeply one more time.

Real. Here.

“Then let me have tonight.”

#bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfic #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #my writing #gale of waterdeep #midwinter in waterdeep #baldur’s gate 3

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