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#Gale in one side Wyll on the other
toads-treasures · 1 month
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I got a beautiful vintage locket for my birthday (early birthday present my bday is on Saturday) and I sent a picture to my mom and she asked what I was going to put in it, and I said “I asked husband to write me a note, but if he doesn’t I’m going to put a picture of my favorite video game character in it.”
Mom: “well there are two panels in a locket.”
She understands me.
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autoneurotic · 11 months
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wild magic sorcery is so fun so far i’ve turned myself into a sheep mid battle, ensnared AND dealt damage to me and my whole team, have summoned multiple mephits that are of course not on my side, blinded myself in fog
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ravnloft · 6 months
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im clowning about gwengale but honestly. i love the thought of her being 100% a lesbian but her love language is physical affection and brother. these guys are her ride or die besties
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effable-as-f · 10 months
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Anyone else feel like there's no noticeable difference in combat difficulty between explorer and balanced
Like maybe I'm just bad but fights in explorer were still absolutely kicking my ass like they would throw you in a room with like 40 guys who'd spam you with hold person and mind mastery bullshit and grease puddles and knocking you into bottomless pits and attacking your characters who were already downed to kill them dead
Maybe I'm just spoiled and my idea of a campaign focused on exploration over combat is a DM who just wants you to succeed and have fun instead of a DM who fucking hates your guts and wants you to suffer lmao
Ironically I feel like I've been having an EASIER time in combat on my Balanced run lmfao, like it could just be because I'm more experienced with the game and combat and using more clever strategies but I feel like I've TPKed WAY less
Like I beat Ketheric Thorm in one attempt which is a fight that definitely took me multiple tries in the past
Although this time I knew going in that in the Avatar of Myrkul phase the most dangerous place to be is on the platform directly below him, so I had most of my characters stay a safe distance away while lobbing fireball after fireball at him and letting Aylin take care of the rest (also this time she actually started moving to the edge of the Bone Chill aura at the end of her turn so I could heal her! That helped a lot) plus this time I got the fancy new rapier from Mizora so I had a cambion summon who could also go in close and draw aggro
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fandom-go-round · 11 months
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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3
Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love
Astarion:
            He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.
Gale:
            He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.
Halsin:
            Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.  
Karlach:
            She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.
Lae’zel:
Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.
Shadowheart:
            Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.
Wyll:
            You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.
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Mating Season
Halsin x Female Reader | sexual frustration | sexual tension | growly bear halsin | totally adoring halsin | horny bear mating instincts | semi-shifted sex | fluff | smut | nsfw
How Halsin’s romance might have played out if we could have had his kisses, adoration, and been totally railed senseless by Oak Daddy from the end of Act I. An ode to Halsin’s hairy chest, big arms, and the vein that I know stands out so thickly on his *muffled horny noises*
After a long and tiring day of fighting off goblins as you search for the Githyanki Crèche, you groan in relief as you sink into the cool waters of the river. Everyone else is back at camp and you’re able to enjoy the currents swirling around your naked body. 
You float in the water, thinking about how much your party has grown in the past few weeks. First Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion, then Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach, and finally Halsin, the wildshape druid you rescued from the goblins. He’s a focused member of the group, a valuable healer, and an unstoppable force in battle. You occasionally feel things turning against you in a fight, and then Halsin is there, supporting the group and laying down swathes of flame, lightning and ice. His bear shape never fails to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. 
Around the fire at night, he talks openly about his quest to free the Shadow-Cursed lands, his admiration for the party, and his praise for your leadership. His gentle words about you have your body prickling with awareness of his. 
That warm smile of his. His large and clever hands. His deep, gentle voice. Everything about this man makes you tingle all the way down to your toes. Whenever you think his gaze is lingering on your mouth, he murmurs goodnight to you and leaves your side. You watch him go, wishing that instead he would reach out and touch you.
An angry, snarling sound fills the air and you sit up in the water. Not far from you, an enormous bear, grunting and breathing hard, walks heavily down the riverbank. It’s huge, and its muscular body blocking out the setting sun, and from the noises it's making and its attitude, it’s a hair's-breadth from lashing out at anything that moves. 
You freeze, not daring even to breathe, hoping with everything you have that the animal will turn around and head back the other way. Instead, it launches itself into the water with an almighty splash. 
As it disappears beneath the surface, you notice a faint scar over the bear’s right eye, as if it’s been clawed. You recognize that scar. 
Wait, is this--
Golden light flashes. The water seethes. A man stands up where there was a bear just moments ago, water cascading from his body. Halsin, and he must have stripped before he changed into wildshape for now he’s completely naked, standing hip-deep in the water. 
He’s partly turned away from you but you can tell his manner is no less worked up than it was in bear form. He swipes his hands angrily through his dripping hair and breathes hard, the muscles of his shoulders and arms clenched in frustration. 
Halsin is one of the gentlest-natured men you’ve ever met, most of the time. Like nature, he too can be wild, his eyes flashing and his voice breaking like thunder over you when he’s frustrated or disappointed, such as when he was remonstrating Kagha for the Rite of Thorns. How magnificent he was that day. 
But what is he restless for now? He stands in the water, looking around at the forest, gripped with frustration, and when he turns a little more your way you can see that the root of his cock is thickened in a tell-tale manner. 
Ah. 
That kind of frustration. 
You quietly make your way to the edge of the river where a willow tree is trailing in the water, moving as carefully and as quietly as you can. This feels like a private moment you’re intruding on. Even though you don’t mean to spy, it feels like you are. The fronds of the willow provide a little cover for you, and hopefully Halsin will cool off and leave the way he came. 
The dice do not roll your way this evening as he approaches you, seeking deeper water. A moment later, your gazes lock, and his eyes widen in surprise.
‘What are you doing there?’
‘I wasn’t spying on you,’ you tell him quickly. ‘I thought you needed some peace, so I was waiting here quietly.’
His eyes run over you, your back pressed against the river bank and cowering amid the willow leaves. 
Halsin heaves a regretful sigh. ‘I frightened you, didn’t I? I am sorry. It’s all right, I am myself again.’ 
He smiles and holds out his hand. It’s a tight smile, like he’s forcing it for you, but you’re no longer worried a bear is about to disembowel you.  
You place your cool fingers into his large, hot ones and let him draw you slowly out of your hiding place. The water is deep enough here that your nakedness is covered, and so is his.
You relax as you gaze up at him, enjoying the sensation of Halsin holding your hand. Quietly enjoying the sight of his bare chest and handsome face. You hope he might walk you into the shallows so you can be naked together, but he remains in deep water, sunk in thought.
‘The river is yours. I’ll leave you to enjoy it,’ you murmur, and glance to where you left your clothes. 
Halsin’s fingers are still tightly twined through yours beneath the water. He seems to be in a world of his own as he gazes at your mouth, your throat, the droplets of water sliding through your wet hair and down your shoulders. A world that includes you. A world where you’re touching one another. 
‘Halsin?’ you ask tentatively. Hopefully. If he wants to move closer and kiss you, that’s more than okay with you. After a long and dusty day, there’s nothing you’d like more than exploring his body in the cool water. That hairy chest of his. His hard muscles. You long to run your tongue over him. Flex your fingers on his biceps. Trace the red tattoo on his cheek.
Halsin comes back into himself with a deep inhale, and he lets go of your hand. ‘Then I’ll see you back at camp.’ He moves away from you through the currents. 
As you push the water from your body and dress in your clothes, you search for Halsin in the river, but he’s disappeared around a bend. 
***
Later around the campfire, you’re hyper aware of Halsin as you talk with Gale about his home in Baldur’s Gate. Halsin is silent, the campfire flickering over his handsome face. You try not to pay him any more attention than you do the others, but your interest in him has spilled over into blazing attraction.
Your gazes lock and Halsin’s brows are drawn tightly together. 
Is he glaring at you? 
A moment later he gets to his feet and, unnoticed by the others, slips away into the darkness. Something’s eating at that man and you wish you knew what.
A short time later, you take a bottle down to the river to refill it with water before turning and heading for your bed. As you round the corner of the ruin where you’ve made your camp, you run straight into Halsin. 
His eyes widen and they flare with heat and surprise, and then he quickly looks away and moves past you.
‘Have I done something to make you angry with me?’ you call after him. 
Halsin stops dead. He stares straight ahead for a moment, and then slowly turns to you, shaking his head. ‘Far from it. I am worked up and frustrated, but not with anger.’
Maybe his frustrations are because of you, and that’s a thought you don’t know what to do with when he keeps avoiding you. 
Not knowing what else to say, you tell him, ‘We will free the Shadow-Cursed lands soon. I know we will.’
He breathes out heavily, his expression troubled. ‘I’m not thinking of the Shadow-Curse right now, even though I should be. It is more important than anything I...’ He trails off, but his gaze lingers on your mouth. ‘...want.’
Halsin steps closer, and you feel the heat blazing off his chest. His warmth and bulk are so welcoming and you crave to reach out and touch him. The backs of his fingers caress your hair. The lightest of touches. Then he takes a handful of your hair and dips his head, bringing the strands to his nose. 
‘You smell wonderful.’ He heaves a deep sigh, and whispers, ‘Can I hold you for a moment?’
That sounds lovely to you, and you nod. 
Halsin wraps an arm around your waist, scoops you against him, and buries his face in your neck. ‘By Silvanus, your scent is sweet,’ he groans. ‘I caught it when we first met, in that foul goblin nest. How it pleased me. Getting to know you these past few weeks has been even sweeter.’
Your hands are plastered against his chest and so is your body. He’s saying everything you hoped to hear. More than you hoped to hear. He has such a beautiful way with words. You turn your head so he can kiss you, but he still refrains. 
Taking a ragged breath, he releases you and steps back. ‘I’m sorry. It’s always difficult this time of year.’
You miss his warmth so much that you shiver. ‘What time of year?’
He gazes at you for a long time. ‘You may laugh, but I’ll tell you. It’s bear mating season.’
You don’t laugh, but your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
‘I know--I’m no bear,’ Halsin says with a laugh of his own, ‘but I spend so much time in wildshape that bear instincts tug on my heart and...other parts of me. I return to my own form and unfortunately the needs do not dissipate. In fact, they worsen, because it is not a bear I want. When she comes close to me smelling like spring and honey and warm sunshine I can’t help but crave her.’ A smile glimmers on his lips.
Enough being vague. You want to hear him say it. You step closer and put a hand against his chest. ‘A general someone, or anyone in particular?’
He groans softly and captures your face in his hands. He drinks you in and swipes his thumb across your lips. The gesture is soft, and full of the promise of his kiss.
‘You are someone I admire and I think I could grow to care deeply about,’ he murmurs. ‘I care about you so much already. Any little scratch you receive I want to push Shadowheart out of the way and tend to you myself.’
Your heart soars.
‘But this isn’t how or when I wanted to begin anything with you. I have to walk away.’
Disappointment plummets through you. 
He’s still holding your face and his expression is conflicted. It seems he wants to put an end to this for now but can’t bring himself to do it. 
‘I can walk away, if that helps?’
His eyes fill with gratitude and longing. ‘Please. That would be a mercy. Know that when the time comes, I will come to you with more than lust in my heart.’
You nod, trailing your fingers down his chest as you step back, but you fail to see what’s wrong with him desiring you. ‘Whatever you need. Of course.’
‘I hope I haven’t offended you.’
You smile gently at him. ‘Your desire is so far from offensive. Please know that I don’t demand more of your attention than you’re willing to give. The Shadow Cursed lands are your priority and I’m...’ How to put this delicately? I’m here for you and you can rail me senseless in between your duties whenever you want to let off steam. That’s what you want to say, but you’re too shy to say it. ‘...Here. Your friend. Always.’
Halsin seems to catch your meaning anyway as his jaw flexes and he nods slowly. 
You promised him you would walk away, and you do, and though you give him ample time to allow him to pull you back, the next sound you hear is a clash and a growl, and a flare of golden light. When you glance over your shoulder, a bear is thundering into the woods on all fours. 
***
A few days later, you’re returning to camp feeling like you’ve been put through a meat grinder, and your companions haven’t fared much better. Gale is unusually silent and covered in blood. Shadowheart is exhausted and dragging her feet. You’re trying not to limp because she and Halsin have already cast so much healing magic. Something’s wrong with your leg, but you’ll see to it yourself when you’re alone. 
The others bid you tired farewells as they head for their tents, but someone catches your arm and holds you back.
‘Oak Father, you’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?’ 
Halsin is staring at your legs, and you stare with him. Blood is pooling around your foot. Oh, that’s not good. 
‘I can tend to it myself after I’ve had some rest--’
Your words are cut off as the massive druid picks you up in his arms and carries you into a crumbling barn. Automatically, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against the solid bulk of his chest. Halsin lays you down on a pallet and helps you remove your armour, revealing a ragged gash on the top of your thigh. Your clothes have to be cut away until your legs are bare.
Halsin looks exhausted and has dark circles under his eyes. It seems he’s been taking little rest as he roams the forests nightly as a bear. When he reaches for you to lay healing hands on your wound, you place a hand on his wrist.
‘You don’t have to do this right now. I’ll bandage myself up and someone can heal me after they’ve rested.’
Halsin raises challenging eyebrows at you. ‘You believe I don’t have the strength to heal you myself? That I’ll walk away from the most important person in my life and leave her bleeding?’
You moisten your lips, trying not to show how much his words have affected you. The most important person in his life? Suddenly you don’t feel injured at all, and he hasn’t even healed you yet.
‘I have more than enough magic left for this. Now, lay back and let me do my work, and then you can get back to yours.’
You settle back on the pallet and gaze at the cobwebby rafters. Halsin’s hands hover over your thigh, and a warm, delicious feeling spreads through your leg, and then up between your thighs. Your head falls back in relief and pleasure. 
Even Halsin makes a surprised noise. ‘That felt...’ He rubs your now-healed high, massaging the last of the tension and pain from your muscles. ‘That felt different. How’s your thigh now?’ 
You can’t help but moan and arch your back a little at his touch. ‘Good.’ Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
‘Just good?’ He strokes his palm over where there was a cut just moments ago. 
‘Halsin, please, you make me feel heavenly,’ you whimper. The words pass your lips without thinking. You reach up to take hold of his shoulders so you can pull him down to kiss you, but pull back before you can touch him. 
This isn’t what he wants. Your hands clench on the pallet, feeling your core ache with need. As soon as he leaves, you can get yourself off thinking about him. 
‘Would you like me to go?’ he asks softly. 
‘I never want you to go.’
His hand rests lightly on your leg. 
You open your eyes and gaze up at him, and he’s sitting so close to you. ‘But if you stay, you’re going to see me touching myself.’ Then you smile at him, remembering your last conversation. ‘I would love for you to see that. As a friend.’
You want him to see you. You want him to participate.
He smiles and leans down to you, and runs the blade of his nose up your cheek. ‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful after a long, hard day, my dear friend.’
Halsin lays down beside you and props his head against his fist. With gentle fingers, he helps you to drag your underwear down your legs and cast them aside. As your teeth sink into your lower lip, you gently touch yourself, your eyes on his handsome face. Halsin strokes your thighs, your stomach, finds the fastenings on your clothes and loosens them. As he pulls back your bodice, revealing your breasts, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. 
You cry out and flex up into him. Heat is gathering within you. You suck on your lower lip and release it. ‘Please--your fingers--I need--’ you manage between pants. You can barely get the words out, but he understands. Halsin drags two fingers through your sex, making them slippery, and then sinks them inside you. 
Another loud cry from you. Gods, he feels perfect.
Halsin groans and kisses your throat, murmuring, ‘You’re so tight around me. Have you been as frustrated as I am?’ He pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, slowly at first, and then faster.
Yes you have, the godsdamned stubborn bear of man. He should have pulled you into his arms that day in the river and let you suck all the frustration from his body out through his cock. 
‘So frustrated,’ you whimper. ‘Please, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’ 
He brushes his lips over yours. ‘I won’t stop. You’re always so beautiful, but like this, all of nature pales in comparison.’
You reach down and lay your hand over his wrist, adoring the tension and flex of his muscles in his arm as he moves inside you. Your fingers keep moving on your clit as you moan and cry out his name, and when you come you dig your nails into his flesh, and press your feet into the ground so he can fuck you even harder with his fingers.
When you fall back exhausted, Halsin sits up and spreads your thighs open, trailing his fingers over your sex and drinking in the sight of you as you catch your breath. ‘Your body is wondrous.’ He leans over and kisses you, his tongue caressing yours. ‘Will you rest well tonight?’ 
You nod, feeling drunk from his kiss and your climax. 
He smiles. ‘Then I’ll rest well too, knowing that you’re sleeping soundly. Thank you for sharing this beautiful moment with me.’
As he sits up, you notice that he’s hard inside his tight pants. Excessively hard. Huge in fact. He shouldn’t be leaving, he should be pulling off his clothes and pounding the living daylights out of you until he also gets the release he needs. 
But he’s gone before you can call him back to you. That’s not why he just blew your mind, was it? He healed you, and now he wants you to get some rest. Druid’s orders, apparently. 
You smile and roll over, and fall into a doze. 
***
The next morning, before anyone has arisen, Halsin finds you coming back from the river. You smile at him, thinking he looks so handsome in the morning light, and you expect him to keep moving past you. Instead, he stops and smiles at you, as if basking in the sight of you is all he wants right now. 
‘May I have a kiss?’ you ask hopefully. Perhaps he’s decided not to want anything for himself right now, but he still wants to make you happy. 
Without needing to be asked twice, Halsin grasps you around the waist with his large hands and walks you back against the wall, kissing you enthusiastically. ‘I can still smell you on my fingers this morning. I could smell you all night. You are a delight.’
Your lips part for his so he can kiss you even deeper. With your arms around his neck, you revel in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 
‘I find you irresistible.’ Another kiss. ‘But we have much to do today.’ Another kiss. 
‘We do,’ you say, smiling as he kisses you again. 
He gazes down at you for a moment, a slight frown between his brows. ‘If you need more, know that I won’t be offended if you take another lover. Nature intends for us to roam and be free.’
You have considered that, if not someone at camp, then a handsome stranger at a tavern, but you’d only be thinking about Halsin the whole time. ‘And if I don’t want to?’
‘You must do as pleases you,’ he replies, and kisses you again.
You guess that he didn’t tell you this for idle reasons, but to let you know about his own preferences. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his russet hair. ‘I have always wanted my own person, but to roam with them. Share everything with them. I would miss you too much if I was to roam without you.’
He smiles down at you. ‘Us, with others? I would like that, in time. You’re more than enough for me, but I wouldn’t wish for you to be denied anything. Seeing you with another lover, and participating as well...it sounds wonderful.’ Then he steps away from you. ‘But we are getting ahead of ourselves. My thoughts turn to other things for now. But they will turn back to you.’
With a final warm squeeze of your hand, he leaves you, but your heart is lighter than it’s been in a long time. 
***
Two nights later, you’re awoken by snarling and roaring in the distance, and you sit bolt upright. It sounds like two large animals are fighting in the woods. 
Only Astarion is awake. ‘What a ridiculous racket,’ he mutters with a scowl, before licking his thumb and turning the page of the book he’s reading. 
You look over at Halsin’s pallet, knowing it’s going to be empty before you lay eyes on it, but your stomach drops just the same when you see that it is. You scramble to your feet and set off at a run into the darkness. 
You follow the roaring and snarling and it doesn’t take long to find two bears fighting with teeth bared and swipes of their claws. You recognise Halsin from the scars over his eye.
What can you do to help him? A spell? A cantrip?  
Before you can decide, Halsin swipes the other bear so hard across the snout that it reels back, and then turns and runs away into the woods. 
Halsin paces up and down for a moment, and then golden light ripples, nearly blinding you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s striding toward you. His chest is heaving and blood is pouring from scratches and bites across his shoulders and throat. Nothing life threatening, but he’d be in pain if he wasn’t so angry.
‘That bear was looking for a mate, and I wasn’t having it prowling around her when I haven’t even tasted her myself.’
Halsin when he’s feeling himself wouldn’t say something so uncharacteristically possessive. It must be the mating season instincts overriding his natural feelings. ‘That bear wouldn’t have been interested in me.’ Also, you could have tasted me by now if you’d wanted to.
He doesn’t seem to have heard you as he glares into the darkness. Suddenly, he rounds on you. ‘It’s dangerous out here. You shouldn’t have come. Go back to bed.’
You fold your arms and stay where you are. The big alpha bear can throw his weight around, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to jump to obey his commands. ‘Shouldn’t have come? Would you have ignored me if I was being attacked in the woods?’
Halsin takes a deep breath and some of the anger melts from his face. He pushes his hands through his hair and shakes his head. ‘Of course not, I would never abandon you like that. Thank you for coming out here to help me. I promise I’m not ungrateful. I’m all out of sorts because...’ He gestures vaguely at himself and the woods around you both. 
You smile at him. ‘I know. It’s mating season.’
You help him pick dirt and gravel out of his cuts before he casts healing magic on himself, but you’re not ready to leave him and go to bed. The river is close by and you take his hand and lead him to the water. 
‘Let’s wash the blood and dirt off you.’
At the riverbank, hesitantly you reach for his clothes. He says nothing but he’s watching you with such intensity, and so you find the fastenings and help him out of them. With gentle fingers, he does the same for you. The night air is warm and still. Crickets are chirping and the river makes gentle rushing noises. The two of you are standing so close that you’re breathing each other’s breaths. His massive chest lifts and falls. Your nipples tighten with awareness of him. You don’t want to stare but you can’t help but look at this beautiful man as you undress him. 
Halsin helps you out of your underwear, and his cock bumps against your thigh. He’s so hard that he’s standing to attention, his foreskin drawn back, a drop of pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters, and you want to run your tongue along the thick vein that stands out on his shaft.
‘Sorry. Ignore me,’ he mutters. 
You don’t want to ignore the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen, but you keep your hands to yourself and look up at him. ‘I want to feel flattered. Should I feel flattered?’
‘You know I think you’re wonderful,’ he breathes, caressing your face. 
Oh, by all the gods, then fuck me, please. 
‘Would you want me even if it wasn’t mating season?’
‘Of course I would, though I’d probably be better at keeping that to myself. You wouldn’t awaken to hear me fighting other bears in the woods, or see me staring at you with longing across the campfire. I’d still feel the same way, but I wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Probably.’
‘Do you mind that mating season makes you feel and act this way?’
He smiles and shakes his head. ‘It is who I am, and another connection I have to nature.’
‘Halsin. For a wildshape druid who believes in going with what’s natural, you’re very stubborn about resisting what your body is telling you it wants.’
A smile curves his lips. ‘You may be right. I’ve told myself that focusing on the Shadow Curse is the right and only thing to do, but...’
Halsin ducks his head and slants his mouth over yours. The kiss is so fierce and sudden, and pleasure takes a swan dive through your body. He wraps his arms around you and gathers you to him.
‘This isn’t how I imagined things between us,’ he murmurs. ‘I intended to come to you after the curse is lifted and declare my feelings for you, and tell you that my unburdened heart is yours.’ 
‘Please still do that,’ you breathe, planting soft kisses again and again on his mouth. ‘I would love that. But don’t walk away from me now.’ 
‘You want me, even though my mind is often on things other than you?’
What a romantic Halsin is, wanting to give you his whole heart at once, or nothing at all. ‘Of course I do,’ you tell him, your fingers stroking his bare back. You don’t need that declaration yet. You just need him. 
Halsin lifts you in his arms and carries you into the water, gazing into your eyes. The water flows around your bodies as he kisses you and places you on your feet.
He nods at something over your shoulder. ‘I have to taste you. Turn around and put your hands on that rock.’
You do as he asks, standing thighs-deep in the water and bent over with your hands braced against the river bank. Halsin kneels down in the water and cups your ass. 
‘So beautiful...’ You feel his tongue run up your sex, and you moan and close your eyes. He’s slow and languorous about it. Not trying to make you come, just tasting you thoroughly and enjoying the sensation of you against his tongue. 
Halsin stands up and when you glance over your shoulder you see him gazing at your sex as he strokes you with his fingers and fists his cock slowly up and down. 
‘Can I have you, sweet one?’ he asks huskily. 
‘Please, gods, yes .’ You’ll go crazy if he holds back a moment longer.
You feel him step closer, and the blunt head of his cock slides against your slippery entrance. He feels alarmingly thick and you take a deep breath and try to relax. 
With a muttered oath, he sinks into you. As much of him as he can, anyway. Gods, he’s a lot . You walk your feet apart, trying to accommodate more of him. 
‘Too much?’ he asks, hesitating. 
You shake your head desperately. ‘Not too much. More, please.’
He fucks you slowly, working himself deeper by delicious increments, while your cries fill the night air along with his ragged breathing. His blunt nails scratch your flesh. He roughly squeezes handfuls of your ass. 
You reach down between your legs and touch yourself, and you grow wetter and wetter, allowing him to fuck you in long, smooth strokes. Every single one makes your insides light up. Your orgasm is barrelling down on you surprisingly fast. 
‘Please, fuck me hard, I’m going to come,’ you beg him. 
Halsin groans and takes your hips in a secure grip and slams into you, over and over, hard, brutal and heavenly thrusts. You push against the rock to hold you steady as a wild, untamable sensation crashes over you, and you cry out loud enough for the whole forest to hear you. 
Your head is hanging low and you’re panting as you feel Halsin draw out of you.
‘But you haven’t come,’ you protest, straightening up and turning around. It’s what you want, to see and feel this beautiful man let go. 
He takes your hand and helps you out of the river. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’
He lays back on the grass and pulls you astride him so your thighs are straddling him. ‘I want to see you like this as well.’
Hungry for more, you grasp his cock and sink down his length. Halsin groans and his head tips back, and he squeezes both your breasts in his large hands. His throat is so beautiful, and so is his chest. You draw patterns in his chest hair as you move up and down his length. 
Weeks of frustration and wanting him haven’t been fulfilled by one climax, and soon you feel another one gathering within you. He watches you with a smile as you desperately moan and pant his name. As your cries reach a crescendo, Halsin plants his feet securely against the ground and pushes sharply up into you, over and over, making you shatter around him even harder than before.
You collapse forward on his chest, weakened and helpless, his cock still lodged deep inside you. 
‘That was wonderful,’ you moan, your cheek plastered against his chest. ‘Give me a moment and we can change positions. I’m not stopping until you come.’
He rubs circles on your back. ‘I think I might shift into wildshape if we keep going. I can feel the need getting stronger and stronger.’ 
‘I don’t mind. Your bear form is pretty sexy.’
He laughs softly, a surprised sound. ‘Really? I’m pleased you think so.’
Even sexier is the way he looks while he’s changing, his body even bulkier and hair sprouting everywhere. ‘Can you change part ways?’
His hand stops moving on your back as he considers this. ‘I can. I think it might be easier for me to maintain that, rather than one or the other.’
Halsin rolls you both over until you’re on your back in the grass and pinned beneath him. With a heavy hand on your inner thigh, he pushes your knees up to your chest and thrusts deeper, and then again. 
‘By Silvanus, you feel wonderful,’ he pants.
A ripple goes through his body. His eyes turn fiercely golden. The hair thickens across his chest and spreads over his shoulders and down his arms. His top lip pulls back from his teeth, revealing thick incisors. His cock swells to what feels like twice its size inside you. You gaze at him in wonder. He looks incredible like this. 
As he continues to pump his cock into you, you press your hands against his muscular, hairy stomach, struggling to accommodate all of him. 
‘I’m hurting you,’ he realises, his voice more growl than words. ‘I can change back.’
‘No, don’t stop. Just slow down for a moment. It’s a good problem to have.’ You reach down to the place where you’re joined and wrap your fingers around his slippery thickness. Gods, that’s wonderful. So is his bulk looming over you and the rich, animal scent of his body. He thrusts carefully, watching you closely, his golden gaze roaming over you. 
‘So beautiful, sweet one,’ he rumbles. ‘Are you sure you like me like this?’
‘Yes, oh gods, yes.’
With every thrust, it’s getting easier for him to slide his whole length deep inside you, and pleasure stabs through you every time he bottoms out. 
You reach up and cup his furred cheek. ‘I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even sexier like this. How does it feel for you?’
He groans and seems to take courage from your words. ‘Like I’m finally free. No longer fighting what I crave.’ The speed of his thrusts pick up, and he devours you hungrily. ‘You’re so good to me.’  
His breathing becomes a throaty snarl. His claws dig lovingly into your thigh. His hips move in a relentless rhythm, long thrusts, and then shorter, urgent ones, and you can tell he’s nearing his peak. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life as his body stiffens and his climax breaks through him, and he throws his head back.
With a groan, he sinks down onto his elbow and buries his face in your throat. As you hold him tight, you feel him shift back to his human form, his skin smooth and damp with perspiration. 
Halsin lifts his head and kisses you. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before. Was it all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’
You hasten to assure him that he didn’t and it was everything you wanted.
He smiles. ‘How wonderful you are.’
You stroke his sweaty hair back. Neither have I. You’re so beautiful always, and especially seeing you like that, through wildshape eyes.’
He rolls onto his side in the grass and wraps both his arms around you, keeping you tight against his chest. ‘I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. The world feels so much better now I have you in my arms.’
‘How long does mating season last?’ you ask. You hope it’s a long time, and he needs you often. 
He laughs, a deep sound reverberating through his chest. ‘It’s every moment I lay eyes on you, sweet one.’
‘I hope that I haven’t distracted you from your duties.’
He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m more motivated than ever.’
You lay like that together in the grass until Halsin feels your cooling body shiver. 
He helps you to your feet and draws you into his arms for one last, tender kiss. Cradling your face in his hands, he murmurs, ‘You are the person I admire most in the world. I feel honoured by every moment I spend by your side.’ He kisses you again. ‘Know that I can’t wait until I’m able to tell you that my whole heart is yours.’
Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Or tell me how the Halsin brainrot is affecting you while playing BG3. I have just about no braincells left by now. Only Daddy Bear remains. 
9K notes · View notes
frantic-fiction · 8 months
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Tease 18+
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(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)
Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav
Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Semi-public sex, caught in the act?
Word Count: 3.2k
Mastarlist
Standing in front of the mirror, you pull at the dark green fabric, tugging it down this way and that. You try again to tie the corset but give up quickly. You swing your hips, and the flowy skirt swishes, tickling the skin above your knees. Looking yourself up and down, you zone in on your hips, squirming at the fabric extenuating your curves. So much skin on display makes you want to steal someone's spare cloak to hide in. You weren't one to be self-conscious, but you're used to donning armor and leather, not this scrap of fabric Karlach had convinced you to buy. 
You should just change. Grab some leggings and one of Astarion's shirts, and call it a night. You didn't need a dress to catch his eye; you know how Astarion feels about you; wearing a dress won't change that. Backing away from the mirror, you're just about to rip the dress off when Karlach bursts into the room, Shadowheart following behind her at a much tamer pace. 
"Soldier!" Karlach squeals, stopping suddenly in the middle of the room. She slaps her hands on either side of her face. "You. Are. Gorgeous!" Your face burns as Karlach pounces on you, spinning you around to give her the best view from every angle. Heat creeps up your chest and you giggle awkwardly.
"She's right, you look stunning," Shadowheart smirked and added, "Ten gold Astarion won't be able to keep it in his pants."
"20, he won't make it to a room," Karlach shouts.
"Gods! You both are ridiculous." You squeal, swatting Karlach's hands away and stepping back from her excitement. You huff and fix your skirt. Crossing your hands over your chests, you glare at the girls before timidly looking off to the side. "So, I don't look silly?" The hesitation is evident.
"All joking aside, I assure you, soldier, you are beautiful. And I know for a fact Fangs won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."
You beam under Karlach's compliment, doing a few excited calf raises because you have no idea how else to handle her words. Shadowheart moves towards you and fixes a fallen strand of hair. She gives you a soft smile and moves to finish lacing your corset, patting your arm when she’s done.
"Now we should go. The others are waiting downstairs," Shadowheart motions everyone to the door, letting you take a moment to slip your shoes on. 
After months of endless travels and brutal battles, the party decided to take the evening to drink, relax, and enjoy each other's company. A night to forget the tadpoles and the Absolute. All except Lae'zel, who scoffed at the idea, were joining in on the fun.
Descending the stairs, you slammed with the melody of lively tunes played by a band of minstrels, competing with the animated conversations of patrons. The music, infused with the spirit of celebration, is so loud that it vibrates through the wooden beams of the tavern. The dance floor is alive with energetic movements as couples twirl and spin to the rhythm and the joyous laughter of those lost in the moment.
The bar is surrounded by a sea of drunk patrons clamoring for attention. Tankards slammed onto the worn surface as the bartender poured frothy ale and mead expertly. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps casts a warm glow on the diverse crowd. The unmistakable odors of stale ale, greasy food, and the tang of sweat intermingle in the air, creating a distinctive nostalgic and pungent aroma. You're lost in the crowd's movement, overwhelmed with the sounds. You grab onto Shadowheart's elbow like a lifeline.
"Karlach!" Wyll calls and you all snap your head to the side. The party had claimed a booth, and Gale and Wyll were standing up, waving their arms over their heads. They looked like they started early on the drinking; both men's faces were flush, and they each held an easy, dopey grin.
"Wyll!" Karlach linked her arms with yours and Shadowheart's and approached the table. You let her pull you, too busy searching for him. Astarion is slow to stand, but you know the moment he sets his eyes on you. You watch the subtle change in his body language. His hand tightened around the goblet; the exaggerated inhale of air as if someone had kicked him, watching the hunger grow in his eyes.
Now, you feel the confidence bloom in your chest. The dress no longer makes you squirm in discomfort; no, it gives you power and makes you feel desired and sexy. The flame ignites low in your abdomen. Suddenly, you were playing with fire and excited to get burned. A smug smile stretches your lips the closer you get. Pulling away from Karlach, you move and hook your arms around Astarion's neck. You pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek.
"Hi, handsome," you smile up at him, feeling his hand caress the small of your back. Cold fingers playing at the edge of the corset.
"Hello darling, you look breathtaking." He pushes you back gently, giving him space to take in your attire. "Turn for me, my love. Let me look upon the goddess before me."
You roll your eyes at his cheesiness but oblige his request, spinning slowly to allow Astarion to take in every angle. When you come full circle, Astarion captures your lips, and you fall against his chest. His lips meld against yours in a sensual kiss that was entirely inappropriate for the amount of people around, but neither of you seemed to care. Humming against his mouth, you cup his jaw and pull his face away. Astarion chases your lips and lets out a low groan when you deny him what he wants.  
You give Astarion a mischievous grin, patting his chest when you ask. "Do you mind getting me a drink?" 
He gives you a pointed look, visibly dissatisfied with his kiss. With one look and your hand running up his chest and over his shoulder, Astarion caves with a huff. "Yes, of course. Would you like your usual?"
"Yes, please." You say pecking his lips a final time before joining your friends in the booth. 
Wyll was regaling the table with a tale of his early days as the Blade of Frontiers when Astarion slides in beside you. He sets your drink down, and you whisper your thanks before taking a sip and focusing back on Wyll. Gale is quick to call out Wyll's bullshit, Shadowheart pointing out the exaggeration the warlock had blended into his story. It soon devolved into a bickering match as Wyll tried to defend himself. You chuckle between sips of wine, leaning into Astarion, setting your head gently against his shoulder. His hand had found your bare thigh, fingers kneading the supple flesh. 
Suddenly, your friends become background noise as your senses hone in on Astarion. The cheeky smirk that stretches his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing as Astarion inches his smooth hand further under your dress—never crossing the line but far enough to make you clench your legs together in need. You bite your lip, cheeks burning from more than the alcohol, and reach down to take his hand in yours. 
"I know what you're doing,"
"Oh, and what is that, my dear?" Astarion grins, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. He leans to your ear, "Do you not want me to touch you?" His breath cascades over your neck, and a shiver runs up your spine.
"Not when you're trying to tease me in public."
"My sweet girl, I'm not the one being a tease."
"Soldier! Stop making goo-goo eyes at Fangs, and come dance with me!" Karlach yells across the table, breaking whatever spell Astarion had you under. Pulling away, you look up to see Karlach jumping up and down, hand outstretched for you to take. 
"You know I won't say no to dancing." Astarion reluctantly moves to let you out of the booth. Karlach is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the stage. 
The time is lost in the beat of the drums and the flow of your hips. Karlach twirls you around, and you can't stop giggling. Wyll joins in the fun, and suddenly, the crowd has formed a unified line dance. It's messy, and you don't know the steps, but you watch Wyll and poke fun at Karlach's improvised moves. You dance until your breath is ragged and your feet start hurting. Moving your body until the sea of people starts to drown you. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through your veins or the excitement of the dancing. Still, the fun quickly turns to overstimulation that blankets you in thick sheets. In an instant, the room is too hot and too loud, and if you don't get out now, you just might scream.
You leave Karlach and move towards the door outside to the back alley. Pushing it open, you stumble over the threshold and inhale the cold night air. It instantly sobers, clearing your mind and easing your panic. You stare up at the starry sky, soaking in the bright moon. Goosebumps spread over your exposed arms and legs, and you shiver. It doesn't stop you from stepping further into the alleyway as you breathe and allow your heart to settle its pounding. You can still hear the muffled music and thumping feet. 
You hear the door open again but pay it no mind until Astarion speaks, "There you are, my sweet."
You turn on your heel and give him a soft smile. He glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being standing before you, his face partially cast in shadow, staring at you with hunger. "I needed some air."
"I'm sure you did," Astarion smirks, stepping closer toward you. A predator stalks up to its prey. "All that dancing you were doing must have been exhausting."
"It was, but it was so fun." You reach out instinctually, wrapping your arms around his neck. Astarion smoothes his hands down your spine to the swell of your butt, moving to squeeze the soft, plump flesh. "You should join me next time." You squeak at his grip, pressing yourself closer to him.
Then his lips are on yours, and your back is digging into the rough brick of the alleyway. Astarion's tongue is in your mouth, and you're moaning, gripping his shoulders to find purchase. One of his fangs nipped your bottom lip, and your knees practically buckled under you. You would have fallen if Astarion hadn't pressed you against the wall. 
"I think I just might take you dancing tomorrow." His cold hands caress your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, pushing up the fabric of your dress with it. "I'll buy you a pretty new dress to add to your growing collection, and I'll have you move your body for me like you've been doing all night." 
He rolls his hips into yours, and you cry into his neck, kissing his skin to muffle your noises. "Swaying those hips in this tight little thing. Gods darling, I've been hard all night, and it's entirely your fault, you naughty little minx."
"Astarion," You sigh, relishing the friction of his hard cock against your clothed core. 
"Such a cruel woman, dangling a feast over a starving man. I'll have to punish you for that." Astarion purrs, running his nose along the line of your jaw, stopping to bite at his favorite spot; his fangs puncture the surface just enough to have droplets of your blood trickle out.
His tongue lavishes over your skin, making sure not a drop escapes. The moan that rumbles through his chest is purely animalistic, and a rush of heat gushes between your legs. "But right now, my naughty girl, I'm going to fuck you here against this wall." 
You let out a whimper, hips bucking instinctually, heat coiling in your lower stomach. "Please.." 
Astarion takes no time to push your underwear aside and push two of his fingers into your folds with a lewd, wet sound. Astarion begins to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, with each stroke curling up just slightly. The rough pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and applying pressure, he circles the nub in time with his fingers. 
"You're already so drenched, always so ready for me." You pull his face in and sigh into his mouth, niping his lip playfully. Threading your hand through his soft curls, you give a soft tug, relishing in the grunt Astarion gives you. 
You're painfully aware of your surroundings and know that someone could step out and catch the two of you any moment. The thought gives you a jolt of excitement you'll have to think about later. There is no room to take your time, so you tug harder on Astarion's hair loss, pulling his lips from the flesh of your neck he was playing with.
"Star," You roll your hips against his hand impatiently. "I need you to fuck me already,"
"So impatient, but you are right. This is not the time to play." Astarion tsk before unceremoniously ripping your underwear off and stuffing them in his pocket. 
"I liked those."
"I'll buy you a new pair, maybe one to match your new dress." Astarion peppers kiss down your neck. Your hands move to pull his pants down, freeing his cock. It's red and looks painfully swollen. Astarion hisses through his teeth when you give the base of his cock a tight squeeze. 
"I want one that matches the new dress and the same ones you just ripped." You countered, giving him a few languid strokes using his precum as a lubricant. 
"Whatever you want, my love." He says mindlessly, taking you into another breathtaking kiss.
Astarion hands leave your cunt, and a whine leaves your lips. He kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. Astarion pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Astarion sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escapes from both of your mouths. There is no build-up, no room to catch your breath. Astarion quickly pulls out and slams back into you—your back scraps against the bricks, and your foot slips on the cobblestone.
You yelp scrambling to hold on and not fall pathetically onto the dirty alley floor. Astarion, without skipping a beat, scoops you up fully in his arms. All you can do is wrap your legs around his hips and hold on as he pounds into your dripping cunt. 
"Gods, you're perfect," Astarion signs into your neck. He pulls at your dress, moving the corset just enough to expose one of your breasts. He bends his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You choke on a gasp; cupping the back of his head, you press him further against you. 
"Astarion," you moan, carding your fingers into his curls. Rolling your hips, you match his thrusts. Your lower stomach tightens, and you will not last much longer. Not with him pulling you apart in the way only he can. You tried to say as much, but you choke on a sob when Astarion's fingers find your clit. 
He grinds your hips into the brick wall and brutalizes your clit with tight circles. His voice is raspy in your ears. "I'm close, love…ngh - gods, you feel so good."
"A-astarion, please!" Tears bead down your cheeks, pleasure overwhelming your senses. Your muscles are tightening. Your legs quake, and you clench tightly around him. 
"That’s it, come for me, beautiful." And that is all you need to see stars, opening your mouth in a silent cry. Ecstasy courses through your veins, and you bite down on his collarbone to ground yourself in your pleasure. His hips stutter, pace faltering as he loses himself in your body, spilling his seed deep into you. 
Neither of you moves; the brick is now uncomfortably digging into your back, but you can't find the energy to care. Astarion peppers kiss up and down your neck. You scratch his scalp softly and catch your breath. It’s nice.
"I guess I should wear more dresses."
"My dear, you could wear a burlap sack, and I would have still taken you against this wall."
"Horny bastard." 
The two of you were too caught up in each other to notice the tavern door opening again. Nor did either of you notice two figures stepping out. At least not until Karlach's loud cackle echoed down the alleyway. You whip your head in her direction, Astarion following suit. Karlach is hunched over and on her knees, shoulders shaking with laughter. Shadowheart stands beside her, arms crossed with disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.
Astarion is quick to turn you away, shielding you with his body. He let’s you go and you scramble to cover yourself. He helps you fix your dress. Great. 
"What did I tell you? Fangs couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to find a room!" Karlach booms, slapping Shadowheart on the arm. "Hand it over," her palm extended in wait. You hide your face in Astarion's neck, face burning in embarrassment. 
Shadowheart mumbled something under her breath, digging in her pocket for her gold pouch. "Here," the gold is slapped into the tieflings palm. She turns to the two of you. "Find a different cleric to cure whatever disease you've contracted in this filthy alley." Shadowheart quickly turns back into the tavern, the door slamming behind her. 
"Well, thanks for the gold," The tiefling beams and skips after Shadowheart, leaving you and Astarion alone once more. 
You refuse to leave the space between Astarion's jaw and collarbone. Thoughts of packing your stuff and running to Candlekeep are crossing your mind. Karlach and Shadowheart are already telling Wyll and Gale about your exploits, and you don't want to handle the smug looks. 
Astarion's chest rumbles with silent laughter, and you're pulled from your escape plans. You emerge from your safe space and glare up at the man. "What's so funny?!" 
He laughs harder, and runs his thumb over your pout, cupping your jaw. You hold firm in your annoyance and turn your head. "Karlach is telling all of our friends that we just fucked in a dirty back alley, why would you be laughing?" You snap.
"You would think at this point Shadowheart would stop betting on our love life. Tsk, all the gold she's lost." You narrow your eyes at him. His playful smirk widens. "She and the other weirdos should know how shamelessly I want you. They were lucky I didn't fuck you on the table." 
Rolling your eyes, you shove him hard, forcing Astarion to stumble back. Moving past you storm towards the door; he's laughing and calling your name. Astarion, only get your middle finger before the tavern door closes behind you.
Astarion is a cheeky shit. I love him.... Let me know what ya thought, i love your feedback.
Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna
4K notes · View notes
twi-liight · 1 year
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Petty Jealousy ❣
Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!
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“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 
5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 
“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 
Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”
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Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 
Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 
 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 
“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 
“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 
“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 
“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 
“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 
Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.
“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 
Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 
Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.
“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 
He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”
“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 
If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 
He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.
“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 
Yes. They all nod their heads. 
“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 
Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 
“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 
They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 
Unbearably unaware of their true nature.
Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 
The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 
“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 
How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 
No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.
Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 
"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."
Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.
“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”
“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 
Excellent. 
“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 
“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 
“Karlach!” 
“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 
“Gale?!” 
“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”
“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 
❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3
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cats-obsessions · 10 months
Text
If Durge Could Recruit Gortash Headcanons:
Once agreeing to ally with Gortash, Durge can convince him to join the party, but only if they agree to kill Raphael. If Karlach is in the party, this may be done in exchange for Gortash to fix her heart if Durge can pass the persuasion roll on Karlach.
• Upon joining the party, Gortash shows up in a more practical armor set, still gold and black but not as decorated as his robe. There’s scrapes and dents on parts of it, clearly having been worn before. Durge can ask him about it in conversation and discover he has chosen to wear the same armor as he did when they robbed Mephistopheles Vault. He never repaired it and can tell a story for each scratch.
• He does a lot to try to jog Durge’s memories, and it works a some degree. We hear little stories around the city, some more suggestive than others.
• Old habits never die. He’s constantly touching Durge, always walks next to them, has a lot of strong opinions but will only concede to Durge.
• Durge persuasion rolls on Gortash are DC10 and under. Anyone else it’s DC30.
• He absolutely compliments Durge a little too much. And he’s always the first at Durge’s side after the fighting ends. Grumbles if he has to rez anyone else but dotes on Durge.
• Gets along well enough with Astarion, Shadowheart, and Laezel. Respects Minthara and Gale, sees them both as potential allies if they know their places. Absolute bitch to Wyll. Actively the number one Ravengard hater.
• If Durge can convince Karlach to stick around, she will only be in the same party as Gortash once or twice. She’ll confront Durge about it after and either has to be kept separate or leaves the party.
• If taken to Astarion and Shadowhearts’ personal quests, he’ll be surprisingly respectful, and will tell them they’d make good Banites, particularly if Shadowheart resists Shar. (Kinda think he would tell Astarion not to Ascend but for his own advantage of not having to deal with an Ascended Vampire and not wanting the hells to gain power from 7,000 souls)
• Random gifts pop up in Durge’s inventory. He says nothing about them. One is definitely the hand of an enemy.
• When in the House of Hope, Gortash will only allow Durge to enter the prison with him until the warden is dead. He’ll tell them everything, but won’t let the others see it.
• Killing Raphael is very emotional. He’s proud, happy, relieved, but being there shakes him up. Durge can hug him in private when they talk about it.
• If Durge chooses to save Hope, she tries to hug ‘little Enver, all grown up’ before they leave. He does not like it, but part of him is happy to see her free.
• Durgetash romance can initiate after Raphael is dead. Sceleritas is so fuckin' pissed. Like, he kinda ships it, but he CANNOT handle Durge getting labotomized again for this Banite fool.
• He has random little personal quests and pop-up events like his formal coronation celebration ball, taking Durge to a fancy dinner, dealing with fans, and assassinating a rude journalist who called him not-so-young-and-handsome.
• If taken to Lady Jannath's estate, she flirts with him. Durge has an option to stab her for this- just once. Just a little. She'll be fine! Gortash approves. He apologizes to her, but he's absolutely into it.
• His two allied pathways at the end are to remain fully evil and control the brain/Faerun with Durge or absolutely still be, ya know, Gortash but destroy the brain and become archduke without the tadpoles' help as he’s now viewed as the city’s hero. This is his least evil option and requires a Durge romance or at least a Durge that will remain by his side regardless and saving Hope as pivotal moments.
• Durge's alliance or resistance of Bhaal would significantly influence this. Resisting Bhaal lowers the DC on any persuasion. Failing the duel with Orin would block any option except controlling the brain with Gortash as he sees it as the only way to protect Durge. Because controlling the absolute would offer them a large enough following to grant them literal ascension to godhood, freeing Durge from Bhaal's control. Plus, you know killing a god would only inflate Gortash's ego more, and that would be his new goal.
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reverieblondie · 5 months
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Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?
I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!
Haarlep and Raphael with thouch starved S/O HERE
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Halsin 
Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.
Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…
Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier. 
He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out. 
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Zevlor
Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…
Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.  
 It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later… 
“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor’s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss. 
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Wyll
Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…    
You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.  
Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”   
It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most. 
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Rolan
Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold. 
You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…” 
Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.  
It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.  
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Gale 
You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.    
It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.   
You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…   
The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him? 
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Astarion
With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…
Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do. 
You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him. 
Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…
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feyascorner · 7 months
Text
at the end of the day
summary. you and astarion have your first genuine fight and the other companions try to patch things between the two of you.
warnings. comfort/fluff
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
a/n. have not written an actual one-shot in a while omg,...
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Breakfast is eaten in silence. One that's been extending far past its welcome date now.
Shadowheart grips her fork, feeling the flitting glances exchanged amongst the others around the table while she maintains focus on the two individuals sitting on opposite sides of the table. Your eyes remain trained on the bread sitting on your plate and Astarion swirls his chalice aimlessly in his hand, neither of you even acknowledging the presence of the other. The cleric grimaces as you stand suddenly, your chair scraping against the floor as you do so.
"Thanks for the food, Gale," is all you mutter before leaving the room with your plate in hand. Astarion rises from his own chair in an instant, huffing.
"I must take my leave as well."
When both parties have left the room, all five other companions stare at one another in a knowing silence. Lae'zel is the only one who doesn't seem the slightest bothered. Wyll is the one to break the uncomfortable tension in the air, clearing his throat after Lae'zel nearly bites her fork off. "I see they're still amidst their lovers' quarrel."
"What are they even fighting about?" Karlach groans, slumping into her chair with an exasperated groan.
"It was nice the first few days to have a good night's sleep without their incessant noises," Shadowheart grumbles, shoving an egg into her mouth. "But now, this is arguable worse."
"Should we...aid them somehow?" Gale blinks.
Lae'zel snorts. "They're adults, we don't need to coddle them, wizard."
Despite her words, they do find themselves a few hours later in unanimous agreement to do something to ease the unfamiliar dryness of the camp dynamic. It comes in multiple attempts. And to say few---if not all--were unsuccessful, is an understatement.
First, when out in the woods, Gale makes an effort to spark a conversation that would prompt both you and Astarion to join in. You nod occasionally, though lost in thought, while Astarion promptly ignores whatever he's talking about. It's a pathetic attempt that has nobody but himself babbling away, which earns a grunt from Shadowheart. It's enough to shut him up, thankfully.
Second, Karlach uses her uncanny ability to lift someone's spirits. Jokes, dancing, all that jazz. Even booze. She urges you to let loose, but all you do in response is smile at her apologetically while Astarion just glares off into space. Another failed attempt. Lae'zel pats Karlach on the shoulder.
Wyll tells stories of his monster hunting days which you usually take an interest in. Astarion naturally listens to what a monster hunter does when he's not hunting monsters, but that's all it is. You and Astarion only listen. There are quips and lingering questions, but neither of you ever direct it at one another, or bother to add into the conversation either. The sheer amount of teasing questions has Wyll's head spinning by the end of it. Lae'zel rolls her eyes.
Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, you're ambushed. It's a small horde of goblins---nothing beyond your capabilities, but your companions do take some small scratches here and there. Somehow, though he rarely does, as he prefers staying behind you or Karlach, Astarion does too. And despite his efforts to hide it behind his back, you also didn't miss the cut lining Astarion's arm to his elbow. It's not deep by any means, and if it were your own injury, you'd likely just brush it off.
But it's on his skin, and he'd gotten it when taking a hit from an arrow that should've cut your arm.
Blasted hells, you think, as he shrugs it off. Even when you can clearly see him clenching his jaw to bite away the pain.
If battle won't be the end of you, you're sure your idiot of a boyfriend might be instead.
"Come here, you fool," you mutter, holding out your hand. He doesn't even consider the fact that you're mad at one another and immediately extends his arm to you. Habits, you suppose.
You mumble out a weak scolding as he watches you wrap the wound through his lashes. He shivers as you lather a cool ointment on the cut, hoping it's enough to soothe the pain before Shadowheart's recovered enough to properly heal him. He lifts a pale hand to your face, and for a moment, you think he might pinch you. Instead, he runs a thumb across your cheek, spreading the ointment on a scratch you hadn't even realized was there in the first place.
You meet his eyes, your own softening as he cups his fingertips around your cheek. The way he looks at you is overwhelming sometimes---like you're the only thing he gives a damn about in this world---but it's a welcome feeling when he hasn't even looked you in the eye this way in days now. For a moment, you realize you don't even remember why the two of you were mad at one another in the first place.
A laugh threatens to escape your throat. How childish, truly.
And then he flicks your forehead, unable to help the grin etching onto his lips when you blink in surprise.
"That was for making me sleep by myself for three nights."
You swat at his arm while he dodges each of your lazy attempts to get back at him. And though the two of you continue bickering, unbeknownst to you, you have an audience a good bit away, watching you return to your old ways after making them worry for so long.
"What a sight it is--to see young people in love again," Wyll smiles.
Shadowheart deadpans. "Isn't Astarion nearing 240?"
"Who cares?" Karlach shrugs, slinging her arms on either side of her companions with a toothy beam. "What matters is that they made up...and we didn't even have to help them."
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justporo · 8 months
Note
Hear me out! Tav brought a statue of Astarion to the camp but Astarion does not recognize himself in it and does not understand why their leader spent 5000 gold on a random stone man. Meanwhile the party is betting on how long it will take Astarion to guess whose statue it is.
5000 Gold
"He's not... he's not gonna figure it out anytime soon, is he?"
"Sshhh!"
Shadowheart shushed Karlach with an angry frown and a single finger thrown to her lips.
The two of them - along with your other companions observed the scene unfolding on the other side of the camp. Right where a delivery had just been made - and quite an uncommon one.
A giant stone statue, depicting... Astarion - and almost fully nude at that.
You couldn't resist when the offer had been made to you at the carnival at the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. 5000 gold had felt like nothing for the punchline you had been about to make with having a statue be made of the one companion that couldn't remember what he himself looked like.
And Astarion, upon discovering Tav's most recent purchase, had started to throw a temper tantrum immediately, almost fainting when he had heard the paid sum out of your mouth.
The vampire had worked himself into an outright frenzy, screaming, hissing, gesticulating towards the statue, then back to you, then to the skies. Meanwhile all you could do anymore was biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting into the biggest laughing fit of your life.
The rest of the group kept observing from a safe distance.
"Istik", Lae'zel mumbled under her breath. But even the sober githyanki could barely hide a smile.
Shadowheart shushed her as well. Wyll had just been silently shaking his head for the last couple of minutes. Shadowheart had started taking bets on how long it would take the oblivious vampire to realise the cruel trick that was being played on him. Karlach, being way too optimistic, had already lost some coin to the cleric with their estimate of a few minutes.
Only Gale who had been busy this far with some of his thousand books had missed the whole spectacle so far. Just now had the wizard realised that something was going down. He eyed the fighting trio of you Astarion and stone Astarion and then the group of bystanders, trying to decipher the situation. When he couldn't make any logical sense of any of it he went over to the small onlooking group. "I appear to have missed something? What is-"
Shadowheart hissed at him to shut up, causing Gale to flinch back with a hurt facial expression. Wyll though wasn't impressed by the cleric and enlightened his friend: "It looks like our clever leader Tav has taken up the offer of getting a stone statue of Astarion for a bargain of 5000 gold without telling anyone. And now we're betting how long it's going to take him to realise it's him."
Shadowheart stared the Blade of Frontiers down. Wyll merely shrugged his shoulders. He'd faced more fearsome creatures than the cleric aplenty.
Gale just blinked several times at him, letting the words settle. Then a grin spread on the wizard's face. "I bet 100 gold it's gonna take him at least until the end of the day."
Shadowheart's furious expression lightened noticeably and she stretched out her hand to Gale. They shook on the bet. Then everyone turned back to the two Astarion's and you to continue watching the scene.
"Why in the nine hells would you get a statue of some random guy - he isn't that... Well, he is quite handsome!" Astarion yelled at you while you had to hide your face in your hands desperately trying to pull yourself together.
The vampire didn't let up: "Well, if only it had been me, then I would have understood, darling, who wouldn't want that as a piece of decor, but-"
That was it, you broke. Hysterical laughter started shaking you, up to the point where you doubled over and could barely breathe between laughing and crying from laughing.
The vampire meanwhile went through the whole spectrum of emotions known under the sun in a matter of seconds. Angered, confused, flustered. And then finally something in the elf’s brain clicked together.
He stared at the statue then at you, back to the statue and suddenly his hands wandered over his own face as if to grasp it's lines and shapes.
"You...," he started and stopped. Through your tears you were sure you could see the vampire's pointy ears turn bright pink. "That IS me!"
You were barely able to nod as another fit of laughter shook you. Astarion’s mouth opened several times but no sound came out. A rare occasion to the see the sassy rogue so void of words.
Meanwhile, a bunch of moans could be heard from the other side of camp where Shadowheart collected her won gold from the others.)
"Why would you-", Astarion began and his expression was barely readable while your laughter slowly died down and you were able to kneel back on your feet.
"Didn't you say it yourself? He's quite handsome, isn't he? Now you get to see for yourself again."
Astarion pointed an angry finger at you about to throw another fit but then his eyes fell on the statue again. Now with knowing what it was and what it meant it shut him up immediately.
He took a few steps closer to get a better look. His anger at you momentarily forgotten as he gazed upon his own image for the first time in over 200 years.
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fangswbenefits · 9 months
Text
Backfire
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(amazing art by @dopepoisonivyoncrack 🥺🩷 thank you so much!)
Summary: You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Jealous/Possessive Astarion. Orgasm denial. Fingering. Edging. PiV. Creampie. Knife (dagger) play. Body worship. Innuendo.
Word count: 3.4k
You vaguely wondered how long it would take to set Astarion off.
He was glancing at you from across the camp, leaning against an oak tree as he twirled a dagger in between his masterful fingers.
The fluid motion broke your concentration for a moment.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and you quickly realised he was aware of your attempts.
Shit.
So much for subtlety.
Maybe you should have picked Wyll to test his jealousy as you reckoned it would have been more effective.
But now it was too late.
You feigned innocence as you patted Gale's arm, mindlessly nodding as he happily explained the intricacies of a chicken broth that he was preparing for later.
“See, the essence of this dish lies in getting the proper ingredients,” he went on, dipping the ladle into the steaming pot and stirring it gently before bringing it to his lips. “Hmm. Definitely lacking something, as I suspected.”
“Really? It smells very pleasant,” you said truthfully as the soft breeze wafted the delectable fragrance your way.
Gale raised one finger. “Mushrooms.”
“What?”
He nodded. “It requires a touch of mushrooms to fully bring out its flavour.”
You patted his shoulder with a warm smile. “I’m sure we can do without it.”
But Gale’s enthusiasm immediately wavered, his brows sinking. “Absolutely not. We require a proper meal and a proper meal is what I shall provide.”
Oh.
He stirred the broth again before rummaging through a satchel at his feet. “Well, I don’t suppose you could fetch me a few?”
Glancing over your shoulder, you found that Astarion had vanished.
Shit.
Your plan shattered into pieces as the object of your teasing was nowhere to be seen.
“Could you?”
Gale’s voice snapped you out of your frustration and you found yourself frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I need some mushrooms, my friend.”
Your frown deepened, but you really had no choice now and a refusal would most likely break his heart.
“Where can I find them?”
Gale beamed with a wide grin. “I spotted a few on the side of the road and near some trees as we were setting up camp. I was foolish enough not to pick them and now I’m burdening you.”
You shrugged with a sigh. “It’s no bother. I was the one who asked you to teach me some of your cooking tricks.
“Ah! You should have trained to become a wizard,” he said with an approving nod. “A hungry stomach and an equally hungry mind.”
As much as you wished to return his enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but to feel annoyed at yourself for the appalling attempt at riling Astarion up.
Maybe he had seen right through it and merely walked off, probably chuckling.
But maybe you had stirred something inside him that ultimately caused him to leave.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
You followed Gale’s instructions, nearing a forest area, shaded from the sun as the canopies of the surrounding trees grew denser and branches intertwined with each other above you.
It didn’t take you long to spot a conglomerate of a few rounded caps by the protruding roots of a large and thick oak tree.
Unsheathing your dagger, you squatted down and began dicing through the spongy stalks.
You were halfway through your task, when you felt the cold press of metal resting on the side of your neck, freezing you in place.
A smile crept across your face.
“I don’t suppose you value your life enough if it’s this easy to sneak up on you.” The blade moved upwards and along your jaw, causing you to turn your head. “Darling.”
You flinched away from Astarion’s grasp and both of you rose to your feet in an instant.
“I doubt any foe would be as delicate as you should they intend to truly harm me.”
He twirled his dagger, offering a devious smile. “Point taken.”
As expected, praising him always did wonders. 
And it was absolutely true and equally expected that a skilled rogue could move in the shadows with unmatched prowess. 
But then, the mood shifted as he deepened his smile. “What were you doing back there with Gale?”
Oh?
You cleared your throat, sheathing your blade once again at your hip. “I was merely observing his cooking skills.”
He took a step in your direction.
“Were you, now?”
“Yes.”
He scoffed. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, darling.”
You allowed yourself to move back with each step he took. “And you’re not as perceptive as you think you are.”
“You weren’t trying to deliberately make me jealous, were you?”
You shook your head, feeling your heart drumming hastily in your chest.
Astarion’s feet only came to a brief halt once your back hit the rough surface of the tree trunk behind you, effectively rendering you immobile.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
A shameless lie that he immediately tackled. “A lousy liar who’s even worse at vexing me,” he tutted before pressing one knee right in between your legs. “I taught you better than this.”
The air in your lungs stilled momentarily as his arms were now on either side of your head, caging you. 
“Gale was the one offering his teachings.”
He dropped one hand below your chin, tapping it teasingly with the side of his blade and tilting your head back. “Please. I highly doubt that dullard could offer anything of value where it really counts.”
“Astarion…” you drawled in delight. “Are you actually jealous?”
His brows furrowed together. “Obviously not.”
Inside, you were thoroughly enjoying how your fleeting attempt had indeed been successful, despite Astarion’s denial.
You could see it in his narrowed crimson eyes and how the faintest of scowls deepened the lines on his handsome face.
That stroked your ego in a way that almost made you shudder.
You tried to ignore how he was now pressing his knee harder.
His lips almost brushed against your and, for a split second, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he tipped his head to the side and you felt his cold touch on your cheek.
A shiver ran down your spine and you gripped his arms.
“What are you doing?”
He chuckled. “Showing you what really counts.”
“And what is that?” you asked, words coming out shaky.
Astarion adored taunting you with words, but he excelled at rendering you speechless with his skilled touch. 
So it came as no surprise when eventually sheathed his blade and had his hand tug your shirt free from the waistband of your trousers, sliding his hand underneath.
This was bad for you.
Terrible, in fact.
He had the upper hand.
And he fucking knew it.
His fingers brushed along your lower abdomen and his voice was raspy in your ear. “If I slide my hand inside… what will I find?”
Your body was too used to him by now to the point that he could have you throbbing for him with little effort.
The knee dropped and you almost whined at the loss of friction against your swelling clit.
“Answer me,” he said, tugging at the waistband.
You swallowed. “Nothing much…”
Was there even a point in deceiving him now? 
Expert fingers tugged at the lacings, loosening the fabric just enough for him to be able to slip underneath, his fingertips gently gliding in between your folds, avoiding your clit altogether. 
But you were wet enough to draw a pleased grunt from him.“What is this, then?”
You gasped, involuntarily clenching around nothing and feeling a gush of wetness spilling as your body reacted in anticipation.
“Use your fingers properly and find out.”
Your taunt didn’t go amiss. “Maybe an apology is in order,” he said, arrogance dripping from each word. “It seems that your foolish attempt at making me jealous has backfired.”
Much to your frustration, your hips rolled into his touch, silently wishing he would stop avoiding your swell.
“How has it backfired?” you managed to say as one finger teased your entrance.
He ignored your question and began trailing kisses along your jawline, his other hand working hurriedly at the front of your shirt.
Of course.
You knew all too well that you’d feel his cock hard enough if he was already this eager to expose your breasts.
One by one, he undid each lacing, and he pulled back just enough for his gaze to drop as the fabric parted and he gently pulled down the binding that held your chest in place.
Your nipples quickly hardened and you rolled your hips once more, causing one of his fingers to slide inside.
He hadn’t intended for that to happen, but he was so transfixed with your breasts that he was caught off guard.
It was the vicious clenches around his finger that snapped him out of it and his lustful eyes met yours. “Give me one reason not to slide out of you.”
You smiled in between gasps as he sank deep inside. “Should I ask Gale what he’d do in your position, then?”
And just like that, Astarion snapped.
A second finger slithered past your tightness and he brought his lips to your ear. “Careful, darling. Choose your words wisely or you’ll be riding your own mage hand instead.”
Oh, this was delicious.
Astarion was visibly annoyed and it did wonders to your confidence. 
It wasn’t easy to get him all worked up, but it only fueled your ego and made you quicken the pace.
Your whimpers increased in intensity and you looped your arms around his neck for added support, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go knuckle-deep and you shuddered as his strained erection pressed against his hand nudged him even deeper.
He groaned first, clearly enjoying the newfound friction, and you clenched hard at how his face twisted in pleasure.
“Look over my shoulder,” he suddenly said, his half-hooded eyes finding yours.
Somehow, and in between each roll of your hips, you complied, realising just how close to camp you truly were. Close enough to make out the silhouette of Shadowheart who was now at Gale’s side as he worked on his broth, probably wondering what was taking you so long to bring him some mushrooms.
“What about it?” you asked, a bit louder than intended when he sank all the way in once more.
His lips brushed against yours this time, dragging his fingers back as you clenched desperately around him. “You either keep it down or we’ll have an audience soon enough.”
“Would you mind?”
He stilled abruptly. 
“What? Having Gale hear you coming undone for me?” he taunted as you tried to have him back inside, your hips following his retreating hand. “That he would soon realise he could never provide such bliss to his lover?”
You whined in responde, frustrated that you were now faced with an agonising emptiness.
“See, darling,” he continued, sliding one finger back inside, but not quite deep enough to fully satisfy you. “I can be quite generous when I want to.”
“But what?” you groaned, trying to have him sink deeper to no avail.
There was always a ‘but’.
He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back. “But I am not willing to share your cries of pleasure with anyone else.”
“Then silence me.”
The most devious grin settled on his face and you knew you had just offered a challenge he would gladly take.
And with his other hand, you watched as he brought the handle of his dagger close to your lips.
“Open.”
Your eyes widened and your heart immediately skipped a beat. “Astarion…”
“As much as I’d love to have your lips wrapped around my cock,” he said with a click of his tongue, parting your lips for him. “I am more interested in finding out how quiet my dagger can make you.”
You clenched around him so fiercely he actually growled.
Your teeth sank into the handle and you readied yourself for what was to come.
Astarion trailed your lower lip affectionately as it wrapped around the leather wrappings and a second finger joined the first, the heel of his palm rubbing against your clit as he pumped in and out, never breaking eye contact with you.
The moans and whimpers and gasps that slipped from you were being effectively muffled and you were thankful he had decided to silence you this way, because when the third finger nudged at your entrance, you could only roll your eyes shut as your bit hard around his dagger.
“Surely you can take one more,” he teased, his voice low.
You eagerly nodded, rolling your hips into him, knowing you were more than ready for the added thickness.
It slid inside painfully slowly and the stretch had you gasping and nearly dropping his dagger, which he promptly secured in place.
“Now, I know it’s not as thick as my cock, but I am sure you can keep those pretty lips wrapped around it,” he taunted.
You groaned with a nod eager to please.
Eager to come undone for him.
The combination of being so full of him and how he allowed you to rub your clit on his palm was too much. The lewd sounds were almost too obscene and you gripped both hands together, holding onto the remainder of the sanity you had left.
For a brief moment, he allowed you to ride three of his fingers, giving you the illusion that you’d reach your peak easily and rather quickly.
But Astarion wasn’t forgiving even if he had been rather generous thus far. 
And you should have known that your actions would have consequences.
His generosity came to an abrupt halt just as you felt the familiar coil down below becoming more and more overwhelming, your body quickly reaching the point of no return.
Your gasps were now becoming more erratic and you were visibly struggling to keep a hold of the dagger in your mouth.
And then you felt a painful emptiness as he pulled out from you at once.
He chuckled when you groaned in sheer frustration, not allowing you to spit the dagger out and curse him to the Nine Hells.
You felt the urge to cry as he denied you from reaching your high, your hips still moving on their own accord in the hopes of finding his fingers again.
“Now, now,” he tutted, caressing your flushed cheek with his thumb, a single tear streaming down your face. “You didn’t think I would be that generous, did you?” 
Fuck you!
Your words came out muffled, but he understood enough to continue his taunt. “I know you want to, but not before I have some assurances first.”
Impatience took over you, but you managed to arch an inquisitive brow at him.
He pressed his lips where his thumb had been, kissing your tear away. “Tell me no one can make you feel like this.”
Your eyes widened once more as he pulled the dagger from your teetering teeth.
“I’m all pointy ears, love,” he urged, meeting your eyes. “Go on.”
Astarion adored being praised, but this was just cruel.
Your teasing hadn’t been solid enough to warrant such punishment. You had been so close to your peak… 
“Astarion…”
He shook his head with a frown. “No, no, no. You do not get ‘cuddly and sweet Astarion’ after what you’ve pulled, sweetheart.”
Your hands came to grip his shoulders almost pleadingly, but you knew you had no other choice if you were to reach your climax anytime soon.
“No one can… no one…” you whispered, your voice cracking.
But he wasn’t satisfied.
Of course he wasn’t.
It took more than that to fill his ego.
“I’ve ruined you for anyone else,” he said with an intense smile. “You know that, don’t you?”
You immediately nodded, fully agreeing and not out of despair.
“Can you be good for me, then?”
Another nod as you tried to nudge him closer with the leg wrapped around his waist just to prove your point.
“Your pleasure is mine,” he said, bringing the handle of his dagger back to your lips and, this time, you quickly wrapped them around it. “My pleasure is yours.”
He removed his hand from inside your trousers and he pushed your leg down so he could tug them down your legs to give him better access.
Once you had slipped out of them, he eagerly wrapped you around his waist as he tugged at the front of his own trousers, until he freed his cock.
You gave it a quick glance, pleased to find the tip glistening with precum.
“Bite down hard, darling,” he warned, aligning you with him. “I know you adore how my cock stretches you.”
You did as you were told and he sank into you in one swift thrust of his hips.
He was all the way in and your back arched as he steadied you with both hands.
The first clenches around his cock made him mumble a string of curses as he tried to adjust to your tightness.
It didn’t take long for him to set the pace, slowly fucking you against the oak tree.
You weren’t going to last long from this new angle, and neither was he. It would be rather easy to get him to lose all control if you lost yours first. Astarion was rarely able to withstand your contractions as you rode out your climax.
His eyes were locked on yours, but something caught your attention.
Suddenly, your hazy eyes managed to focus on the camp nearby and you watched as someone seemed to be approaching in the distance.
Oh… fuck…
Was it Gale?
No.
It was Wyll.
You clenched around him almost panicking, until you realised he wasn’t coming any closer and had simply taken a turn down the hill, waving at Gale.
Your mind was too overtaken by how his cock felt inside you to care about the context of that exchange. 
Having Astarion being so eager to prove you that no one else could fuck you this way, had you undulating your body against his, always making sure he could bure himself fully inside you with each thrust.
Oh.
You were too close.
“Eyes on me,” he hissed, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.
Dangerously close.
Especially when you met his crimson eyes again.
And you almost topped over the edge at once when you saw him doing something you had never witnessed before.
He finally broke eye contact and his gaze was once again on your breasts and hardened nipples.
And then…
With his free hand, he pulled his own shirt up the length of his body, securing the hem in between his own teeth, fangs digging into the fabric.
What…
He wrapped his arm around your torso and pulled you into him, your breasts pressed against him. The sight was breathtaking as you felt your nipples rub briefly against his, earning a guttural groan from him.
Astarion allowed you to sink all the way down his cock and you could no longer hold back the intense wave of pleasure that came crashing down as you felt his balls pressed against you.
You were biting down so fiercely on the handle of his dagger, you feared youd snap it in half as your first contractions tore through your body.
He pressed your back hard against the tree, and with a final grunt into the crook of your neck, he began spilling inside you, allowing you to squeeze his cum with each of your rhythmic clenches.
You clawed at the back of his shirt, feeling your mind blank as you came down from the overwhelming height of your pleasure mixed with his.
It was hard to steady your breaths and you weren’t sure you had ever come this hard in your life, but it felt like a shared sentiment as Astarion remained buried inside you even when his cum began to spill and drip.
The dagger fell to the ground and you gasped for air, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head through his messy curls.
“Gods…” he eventually groaned, showing no intention of pulling out. 
You grunted in agreement, caressing his damp hair.
“Should I tease you again?” you almost chuckled in between heated pants. “Wyll next?”
He pulled back and shot you a murderous glare. “Don’t you dare…”
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3K notes · View notes
oops-all-concrete · 8 months
Text
Okay, you lovelies voted for fluff, so you're getting fluff! Welcome to:
BG3 companions react to: Tav drawing the companions in their sketch book! (Romance implied)
Beware spoilers and cuteness ahead, please enjoy!
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Lae'zel -
Eventually she gets irritated of being stared at, while Tav is sat pencil in book and puts down her sword from being sharpened, and paces over. "Chk. You've been ogling at me like a child for at least ten minutes. Is it with purpose or are you simply bad at keeping to yourself?" She asks, head tilted with wide eyed threat. Once she gets a glance at the page, she softens, jaw unclenching, shoulders dropping. She admires the sketch before she realises she too, is staring. "Hmm. Acceptable. Continue" Before she returns to her tent, and totally doesn't stay stiller on purpose.
Shadowheart -
Shadowheart doesn't suspect a thing, until she passes by them and totally doesn't take a glance in the journal from over Tavs shoulder. She pauses and appreciates the work long enough for Tav to realise they're being watched. "Oh don't mind me. I'm just appreciating my good side from your point of view." She smiles. "Oh, we should draw each other! I haven't sketched in so long, but I'd like for you to see what I see too." She offers, going and grabbing her own sketch set, sitting beside Tav, comfortably drawing them.
Wyll -
He allows Tav their privacy, even if they stare sometimes. He needs to be physically shown because he is too polite to snoop or look over their shoulder. Upon being shown, he smiles, but winces a little. "Oh, I love it, don't get me wrong. You've captured the Blade of Frontiers in all his glory...just, all his glory with horns and the devil's details" He chuckles, trying not to seem dissappointed. But upon another look, his eyes become wider with wonder. "...you know what, if thats what I look like to you, it's not as bad as I thought." He smiles.
Karlach -
She's nosy, okay? So when Tav puts down their book to help Gale with dinner, she sneaks a little peek, grabbing the pages with a clean cloth. She however, gives herself away immediately. "WOAH??" The whole camp turns but Karlach does not take notice. "SOLDIER?? YOU DREW THIS?? THIS IS AMAZING!" She yells, eyes bright, brows up, grin wide with teeth. The camp settles while dinner happens, but later in the evening, she pulls Tav aside to show them something. Upon a large empty plot of just dirt, Tav finds their face messily drawn with a stick into the dirt. "Can't quite draw right now, or ever really, but I wanted you to have a portrait too. Not bad, eh?"
Gale -
"Oh, and who's that handsome fellow?" He smirks, catching sight of the page one day. He asks for a better look and takes a moment to admire the sketch, before frowning. "Did you...draw me with gray hairs? Am I graying??" He asks, a hand combing through his so well maintained mane. "You didn't know?" Astarion weighs in, finding an opportunity to bully the wizard. "For a human, you are at that age, are you not, Gale?" Lae'zel adds. The wizard makes an almost theatric gasp, crossing his arms. "Gray suits you Gale!" Karlach insists, taking the drawing from Gale and admiring it. Gale pauses, looks again, and grins. "Now that you mention it..."
Astarion -
"Okay, so, that's clearly not any of the imbeciles over there, what handsome young men have you been seeing without me?" He jokes. It takes a minute, but the way Tav looks between Astarion and the book, gives it away. "...oh. That's me?" He seems to entirely lose his ability to speak. He gestures to take the book and have a better look, running his hand over the sketches, and then over his face, seeming almost confused. When prompted, he clears his throat. "Well, it's- ah, certainly flattering. Nice to have such a flattering mirror" He smiles, slipping back into his more confident persona. "In fact, I'd love to keep such a flattering masterpiece, if that would be quite alright with you?" He smiles confidently, but the way his eyes stray to the sketch tells all.
Bonus! The older generation
Halsin -
"I cannot recall the last time I have received a portrait in such likeness." He smiles fondly when Tav shows him the piece. "Might I take this back to the Grove? I'm particularly fond of anything you do really- but especially this" He asks, warm smile spread over his face. Should Tav allow it, he gives the best hug in thanks, promising to return the flattery in kind. (Yes, it will be whittling)
Jaheira -
Of course she gets a look while Tav is distracted. "Not bad. Better that bard songs, that's for sure" She smiles, nodding at the adventurer. She takes a second look and thinks for a moment. "...When did my face get so wrinkly?" She asks in a vaguely dissapointed wonder.
Minsc -
"Oh, my friend, you have a talent of flattery!" He claps and grins when he sees the work, but seems to be looking for something. "Oh- Erm, might I ask a question...where is Boo? You cannot have the great Minsc without his tiny, fluffy brain on his shoulder!" He asks, proudly producing the hamster in hand. Tav turns the page to reveal quite a few sketches of Boo. "What?? Did Boo pose for these?? How is he so accurately cute?? BOO, YOU LOOK ADORABLE! WHY DID NOBODY TELL MINSC IT WAS PORTRAIT DAY??"
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you'd like to read next. I have another poll coming soon as well 👀
2K notes · View notes
dancingbirdie · 9 months
Note
For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀
Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!
Like my smut writing? Find more here.
Your Feral Love
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)
Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.
*****
“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.
“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it. 
But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk. 
“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?” 
His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him. 
He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for. 
The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent. 
Can I bite you here?
Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here? 
What about here? Would you let me sate myself here? 
You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body. 
But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain. 
“Tell me, darling.” 
Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you. 
“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. 
You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist. 
“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately. 
“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.
“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused. 
“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed. 
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.” 
“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead. 
You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary. 
The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.
Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised. 
“What is it?” you pressed.
“I have an idea,” he smirked. 
“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes. 
“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild. 
“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted. 
“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”
You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well. 
“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition. 
“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.” 
You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen. 
You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.  
“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.” 
Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want. 
“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far. 
“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”
You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.
Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state. 
You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin. 
He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way. 
With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction. 
“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.” 
You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.
“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”
Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire. 
You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.
You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.
A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.
Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.  
“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while. 
“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”
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frantic-fiction · 8 months
Text
Unexpected
Tumblr media
Pic: @cheekylittlepupp (I love her posts)
Astarion x gn!Tav, Astarion x gn!reader
Summary: A night of seduction takes an unexpected turn, leaving Astarion to realize just how deep his feelings for Tav have developed.
Warnings: Astarion not knowing how to handle affection. Mild disassociation. Astarion has a lot of confusing feels.
Word count: 2.8k
Masterlist
Astarion sprawls across the blanket, his spine cracking against the stretch. A reflexive groan escapes him. His arms are crossed to cushion his head while the sun's heat seeps into his bones. The last time he felt this warm and relaxed was when his heart still beat in his chest. He feels like he could trance, in just a moment.
It still baffles him, the luck of it all. Being ripped right out of that bastard's chains, only to be dropped in the middle of nowhere with a tadpole in his head and a bunch of problematic weirdos for company. And Tav. Tav, who Astarion has yet to fully figure out. 
At first, he thought the naive little hero thing was all an act, but no, that was just Tav. And a sweet, naive person was exactly who he needed to keep his place in this group. He had already seduced them; now, he just needed to keep them on his side.
Astarion is pulled from his thoughts. He's not sure why until his ears twitch at the sound of boots scuffing on dirt. Pushing up on his elbows, Astarion looks up towards the tree line. 
Tav, slightly obscured by clouds of disturbed dust, is trudging up the west trail. Their body seems to have deflated, shoulders slumped, both hands gripping their pack straps as if the moment they let go, the heavy bag would pull them to the ground.
Tav looks exhausted, not the kind brought on by a poor night's rest or a long day's travel. But one that builds up slowly, from continuous tasks and responsibilities, with constant eyes looking for guidance in a time none could imagine experiencing. The suffocating feeling that claws its way under the skin, burying deep behind fake smiles and pleasantries.
Sitting up further, he watches Tav start to make their rounds. First to Gale, they pull a necklace out of their pocket before placing it in his palm. The wizard makes what's sure to be a subpar joke, and Tav's delicate laugh rings out—Astarion glares in annoyance. 
Tav says goodbye and moves over to Wyll. They unsheaths a polished rapier- a replacement for the one Wyll managed to break when they fought against a pack of minotaurs. It's ridiculous if you ask Astarion, but Tav tells him to keep his comments to himself and, as they say, "don't bite the hand that feeds." 
After a quick hello to Lae'zel, Tav's eyes find Astarion. They perk up a bit, a timid smile stretching their plump lips. Astarion is now fully on his feet, returning their smile with a smirk of his own.
"Hello, my sweet," Astarion says, moving behind Tav. "Let me," he pulls the straps off Tav's shoulders, letting the heavy pack fall into his arms. "Hells, my dear, you carried this all the way from town."
"It's not that heavy," they mumble, reaching for the bag.
Astarion swiftly pulls the pack from Tav's reach. "What did you get?" He quirks his brow and unlatches the pack to begin sifting through its contents.
Tav huffs something under their breath and crosses their arms, but makes no further attempt to reach for the bag. 
The pack is brimming with food, potions, arrows, daggers, and scrolls, all basic supplies. "Boring," Astarion says, tossing the bag to the side carelessly.
"If anything broke, it's coming from your gold pouch."
"Yes, yes, of course," Astarion says, waving his hand casually before turning up the charm. They look up at him with lidded eyes and a glaze over look . "Are you alright?" Astarion asks, his voice laced with played-up concern.
"Hmm... O-Oh, yeah, yes, I'm fine." Their eyes dart away, seeming to look for the next lie. "You know me; I'm always doing good."
Astarion glances around the camp, looking at the others. None seemed to be paying attention to the two of them. He steps forward and brushes a strand of hair behind Tav's ear, trailing his fingers down their neck.
"I've begun to know you very well, my sweet, and I can tell you are exhausted."
"I'll be fine," Tav catches his hand and starts to play with his fingers.
Astarion freezes, brow furrowing in confusion. They're just pulling slightly at his hand. An odd feeling settles in Astarion's stomach.
Why are they doing that?
They let go a moment later, and Astarion pulls his hand back quickly.
"I've got to talk with Shadowheart; if you'd like, you can feed on me tonight." Tav hesitates before quickly pecking his cheek and skipping off.
Astarion is left staring after them with this dreadful fluttering in his stomach. A hand absentmindedly touches his cheek. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows hard. 
Astarion has an idea brewing that would please Tav, and maybe he would even get another of those soft kisses.
Why would he care for another damn kiss? Gods, what is happening to him? Is it the damn tadpole?
It's nightfall when Astarion finds Tav again. They are sat on the ground, suffocated between a growing owlbear cub and a slobbery dog. Scratch's tail wags and the subtle movement of Tav's hands petting each animal's fur are the only movements. Tav's eyes are closed, and their face is relaxed.
"Should I grab the cleric?"
"No, I think the rogue will do just fine." 
Tav's eyes open, their face breaking into a bright smile. They sit up, displacing the animals who no longer consider Tav a suitable bed. 
"Time for dinner?" Tav wiggles their fingers at them, beckoning for assistance.
Astarion scoffs but grabs their wrists and pulls Tav to their feet. Tav stumbles forward a step and presses into him. He gets the urge to kiss them for no reason other than he wants to and almost leans down to do just that when Tav speaks.
"So… my tent or yours?"
Astarion blinks out of his thoughts. "Right, I think my tent tonight,” he offers his arm, which Tav takes. "This way, my dear."
Tav allows Astarion to escort them to his tent, where upon entrance, on a small table sits a platter containing a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese he nipped from Gale's pack, alongside a fresh vine of grapes he may or may not have gone all the way to the bloody town for. Tav mentioned it was their favorite fruit, and hearing the shocked gasp made that obnoxious trip at least worth it.
"What's all this for?"
"I was feeling a bit peckish tonight, so I decided to have a nice meal. I merely wanted to rub it in your face."
Tav rolls their eyes and punches him in the arm dropping to the ground. They pluck a grape from the vine, pop it in their mouth, and pierce the skin with their teeth. 
"Where did you even get all this?"
"If I told you the lengths I went," Astarion says, pulling out a bottle of wine and popping the cork. "I would have to kill you, Darling. I've got an image to keep."  He pours out a glass and passes it over.
Tav chuckles and thanks him and takes a sip. Astarion sits on a cushion beside Tav with his own glass, watching them slice the bread. It quiets long enough for Tav to finish the slice of bread with some cheese along with a couple of grapes. 
Astarion couldn't help but think how cute they looked, cheeks puffing slightly from too big of a bite. They swallow it with a mouth full of wine, a droplet falling down their chin. He wants to catch it with his thumb.
"But seriously, isn't this time reserved for your midnight snack?"
"Typically, but you looked so tired, my dear." Astarion places his goblet to the side and scoots closer to Tav. "I wanted to help you relax, help you sleep. You are always doing so much for everyone."
He plucks a grape and leans in, guiding it to their wine-stained lips. Lowering his voice, he whispers deep and low, "Let me help you."
Tav instinctually opens their mouth, letting the fruit fall in between their lips; their tongue catches Astarion's thumb briefly before his hand retreats. He cups their jaw, and traces over Tav's cheekbone.
 Every time he gets a chance to look, really look at Tav. Astarion can't help being captivated by their beauty. The shine of their hair, the softness of their face alway so warm and inviting, their nose scrunching up anytime he teases. So gorgeous. 
Tav's doe eyes flick down from his eyes to his mouth. Their tongue peaks out gently swiping across their bottom lip. 
Who kisses who is irrelevant. Only the feeling of their smooth lips gliding against his, the shaky exhale of breath, Tav's warm hands curling around his neck, fingers carding into his hair. 
Tav pulls away to breathe, running their nose against his. Astarion can't remember the last time a kiss left him wanting more. And having Tav rush back into the kiss as desperate as he feels sent unfamiliar shivers down his spine.
Astarion's hand presses against the small of their back, pulling Tav close to his chest. The other falls on their thigh, gripping gently like a lifeline. Astarion sighs low in his chest and runs his tongue against the seam of Tav's lips. They tentatively part, and Astarion chases the taste of grapes and bread.
Hells, he wishes to stay in the moment- in the softness of this kiss, the closeness of their bodies. His chest felt light, and the warmth of Tav's body under his hands is something he never wants to stop feeling. It feels as if nothing more needs to happen if either party deems it so.
But that wasn't how this worked. No one ever wanted a simple kiss. Astarion was never the innocent kiss that had you blushing the whole walk home. He was the sinful whisper and dirty looks. The pleasure before the end. Never this.
So Astarion begins the routine he's done a thousand times before.
His mouth leaves Tav's lips, trailing hot, wet kisses down the column of their throat. Tav releases the softest whimper when he bites at the flesh of their shoulder. Their fingers tighten in his hair. He grunts.
Astarion no longer feels quite present; it is more like he is simply observing the scene as a third party. Just finish the task. 
His agile fingers snake up their waist, pulling their shirt from their pants and caressing the smooth skin underneath. Astarion begins to unbutton their top when Tav grabs his hand.
"Wait." They say out of breath.
Astarion focuses back in, eyes taking in the look of Tav's flushed face and kiss swollen lips. They look flustered, and he's suddenly confused about why they stopped him.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. I was…" They trail off, looking away then back again. "Could… we not do this tonight?"
That wasn't what he thought they’d say and it has Astarion momentarily at a loss for words. What does he do now? Tav's looking at him, and he's still frozen. No one has asked him not to have sex before.
"Yes, of course. Would you like me to pack this food and escort you back to your tent?" He sounds robotic to his ears and cringes. 
"No."
Astarion's brow furrows. Do they want his tent? Okay, he can work with this. Let them have his tent for the night; he'll be fine. And it's a nice thing to do since they don't want sex. He can still win favor. Right?
"That will not be a problem, my dear. I was going to be out late hunting anyway- probably until morning. You're welcome to sleep here. Rest well."
Astarion moves to leave- flee more like when Tav grabs his wrist.
"Wait," Their voice is so tiny.
Astarion turns back to Tav. They won't meet his eyes and are playing with his fingers again. Is this something people do? Or just Tav?
"Would you hold me?" A subtle blush began to bloom across their cheeks.
"I can't sleep; I keep having nightmares. I keep waking up trapped in my body." Tav released his hand to hug themselves. "I just don't want to sleep alone again."
Tav. Fearless, reckless, heroic Tav. Who killed more goblins and helped more people than any hero he could think of. To see them look so small, so vulnerable. And ask him. Him. To hold them, protect them from the monsters that torment their sleep. 
His mind is ricocheting around. Who was this person before him? So kind, so beautiful, so trusting of him, who deserves none of it.
Astarion has been quiet for too long. He knows this when he sees hope drain from Tav's wide eyes. They are looking for a way to leave.
"Okay," Astarion croaks, nodding before clearing his throat and repeating the word more confidently.
Tav beams at him. "Okay."
They stay rooted in place, awkwardly staring at each other. Tav bites their lip, tugging it between their teeth. Astarion feels like he's been plunged into the deep end. Every physical encounter he's partaken in was sexual and one he quickly left feeling used and disgusted.
This was new territory; did Tav want him to initiate? How did he initiate this without sex?
Astarion looks down when he feels a tug at his arm. "Um, would it be okay if we laid down?"
Astarion nods rigidly, his tongue cemented in his mouth. He moves to his bedroll and lays back. Astarion's body felt like a wood plank, he couldn't seem to relax. Tav sees this of course, because they seem to alway notice him. 
Everything Astarion wished to keep buried, all his dirty secrets, he kept behind the facade he perfected over the centuries. Tav seemed to see through everything. Read him in a way no other had.
"Astarion," he looks up, Tav's kneeling beside him, eyes full of concern. "If you're uncomfortable, I can-"
Astarion snaps back to himself. He shakes his head and props himself up on his elbow. A flirtatious smirk automatically stretches his lips.
"Me? Uncomfortable? Pfft, Darling, to have you pressed against me all night," Astarion reaches out to pull Tav's arm hard enough to have them stumble onto his chest with a small yelp. 
His voice drops to a husky whisper. "I don't think there's anything I'd like more."
Astarion chuckles at how reactive Tav always is to him. Their hands are splayed against his chest, face inches from his. 
They open their mouths to speak, but Astarion cuts them off with a kiss long enough to leave Tav chasing him for another.
"Though I will admit, having you so close, it's going to be very difficult to keep my hands to myself."
"I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself. I want you to hold me." Tav speaks plainly as they adjust til they are pressed against his side.
Their head is in the space between his collar and jaw. Astarion takes a deep breath. The smell of pine, rosewater, and something distinctly Tav hits his nose. The scent alone acts like a cool drink of water during a searing summer day, calming his anxiety. 
Tav grips the front of his shirt loosely and tangles their legs with his. Astarion was initially unsure what to do with his hands, hovering them slightly over the contours of Tav's body. But he adjusts quickly enough, and pulls them tighter against his chest, chasing the addictive warmth of their body.
This was strange, unfamiliar, but…nice. Tav's nose brushed against his neck, and the heat of their mumbled words fans over his skin. Astarion hums in question.
"Thank you," Tav repeats, yawning, their words slightly slurs from exhaustion. "You make me feel safe."
Tav was trying to break the record for how many times they could shock Astarion in one day. But before he could come up with a charming retort, their breath had already evened out. Tav fell into the world of dreams, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Astarion didn't trance that night, just staring up at the roof of his tent, listening to the soft breaths and steady heartbeat, rubbing absentminded patterns to the planes of Tav's back. 
Why couldn't he have found them when he was still so hopeful? Less broken. Because he think he might have been able to make it through just about anything with Tav by his side.
Tav, whose eyes find him first. Who makes sure he's fed and comfortable and okay with the plan even though he could give two shits about the poor fools that need saving. 
Who asks to be held at night when the dreams are too dark to handle alone, and they trust Astarion of all people to keep them safe? Where was Tav when he needed and pleaded for someone to care for and protect him from the cruelty of this realm?
Gods, he thinks he loves Tav. The thought turns his stomach to lead, but he stops and takes a deep breath. That is something he will have to think about tomorrow. 
All Astarion wanted to think about right then was the person in his arms. He kisses the top of Tav's head and closes his eyes. Astarion doesn't believe he's ever felt more at ease.
I really enjoyed writing this, so please let know what you thought. Astarion discovering his feelings for Tav past his survival instinct is a personal favorite type of fic for me, so I want to write one of my own.
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