#gale would turn up rich

[talesofthedm]

You think the companions make a death pool after like the 2nd or 3rd time withers brings someone back?

Death 100% loses all meaning after a while of withers just going "nah".

I'm just imagining Gale summoning a giant fucking chalkboard so everyone can keep their death tallies and take nightly bets on who's gonna die the next day

[a-bit-of-writing]

Cloak

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 

Characters: Astarion x Reader

Words: 1,591

Summary: You only meant to survive your night watch, not end up draped in Astarion’s cloak and scent.

part. 01 | part. 02

The cliffs above the Chionthar were pretty things by daylight — ragged ridges powdered in wild heather, gulls wheeling overhead — but after dusk they sharpened into bone‑white fangs. Wind tore off the river and scraped your cheeks raw, tugging at your sleeves like a petulant child begging to be let in.

You flexed your fingers — nothing. Half‑numb. Brilliant idea, volunteering for the late watch in nothing but a travel shirt and bravado. Gale had offered his spare cloak; you’d waved him off. Shadowheart had raised an eyebrow; you’d grinned. Pride was a stubborn parasite and now it gnawed your bones with every icy gust.

A twig snapped behind you. Leather boots, light tread — predator’s footfall. Only one person walked that quietly and still managed to announce himself with the sheer audacity of his presence.

“Honestly, darling,” Astarion drawled, voice a silk ribbon sliding round your throat, “if you wished to turn blue you could have asked me for pointers. I have centuries of experience.”

You exhaled a foggy plume. “I’m fine.”

He came into view, draped in a cloak the color of spiced wine, clasp of polished garnet winking at his throat. Moon‑silver hair spilled over the collar like frost over velvet. He looked entirely too warm, too princely, too amused.

“Liar,” he murmured, stepping close enough that his breath stirred the hair at your temple. “Your teeth are rattling a charming concerto.”

“I said—”

“And I said you’re shivering.” One arched brow. “Would you like my cloak?”

The offer landed like flint on tinder. You opened your mouth — habit formed around refusal — but the night stole the word and left only a shudder. Fine tremors climbed your arms. Astarion watched, ruby eyes bright with mischief and something startlingly soft.

“Here,” he sighed — half resignation, half relish — and reached for the clasp. Gold links whispered apart. As the cloak swung free, heat rushed out like the exhale of a hearth. Cedar, smoke, faint mulled wine: his scent, rich and dizzying.

He didn’t simply hand it over. Oh no — Astarion performed the act like ritual. One step forward, boots crunching frost; cloak lifted high, then draped across your shoulders in a slow, enveloping fall. He gathered the fabric at your throat, cool fingertips grazing the hollow just above your pulse. You felt it leap; he felt it too — his smile said everything.

“There,” he purred, smoothing collars with absurd delicacy. “A lovely splash of red to set off those cheeks.”

You tugged the cloak tighter. “Thank you.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head, studying the way it swallowed your frame. “Marvelous. It hangs on you like sin.” He leaned closer, conspiratorial. “Be wary — wearing a vampire’s garment might constitute a blood pact in certain, decidedly salacious circles.”

“Oh dear,” you deadpanned, exhaling warmth back into your stiff fingers. “Am I doomed?”

He hummed approval. “Doomed to — let me think — moonlit poetry recitals, perhaps a scandalous duet or two.” His grin glinted fang. “Surely you can bear the torment.”

You mustered a scoff, but the cloak’s heat seeped beneath your defiance, loosening the tight curl of your shoulders. Even the wind seemed reluctant to intrude through velvet this thick. You inhaled — cedarheart and something sweet, like the echo of summer berries on the tongue.

Astarion’s gaze followed the rise of your chest, satisfied. Then, casual as smoke, he settled onto the flattest rock beside your post — close, but not crowding. The river’s dark ribbon murmured below. Fireflies stitched gold thread between brambles.

After a beat he said, softer, “I never cared for that cloak.”

You glanced sideways. “No?”

“Cazador chose it.” A small shrug. “He enjoyed dressing us like decorative knives — beautiful, useful, always his.” For a moment the campfire in his eyes dimmed, revealing an undertow of old hurt. But then the mask slipped back into place, polished and bright. “Yet here we are — re‑appropriating luxury. Rather poetic, don’t you think?”

“Very,” you whispered. “And it does suit you. Or did.”

He laughed, rich and low. “Are you angling to keep it?”

“Maybe I’m claiming it. Finders, keepers.”

“Heresy.” He slung an arm along the rock’s rim, posture indolent royalty. “If you intend to steal my wardrobe, I’ll need compensation.”

You arched a brow. “More secrets? Another blush tally?”

“Oh, I have grander schemes tonight.” He leaned in until moonlight caught in his lashes. “How about a favor to be named later? Something deliciously open‑ended.”

Your pulse skipped. “Dangerous.”

“Exhilarating,” he corrected. Then, unexpectedly gentle: “But if bargaining unsettles you, we’ll stick to simpler trades. A story, perhaps.” He lifted his chin, invitation in every line. “Gift me a memory.”

Cold forgotten, you searched for something worthy. “All right,” you said at last, voice soft. “When I was small, my mother would brew cinnamon milk on winter nights. She’d hum — terribly off‑key — while I sat by the hearth pretending to read. I’d memorize the tune, wrong notes and all, because it meant warmth was coming. I loved that.”

Astarion’s expression flickered — surprise, then a longing so fierce it scared you. “Cinnamon,” he echoed. “I remember cinnamon.” He looked away, throat working. “I’d- I’d snatch sweet rolls from palace apprentices and hide on the roof. Eat them alone so no one could shame me for sticky fingers.” Soft laugh, brittle as spun sugar. “Feelings taste different when you savor them in secret.”

He fell quiet, the confession hanging between you like frost‑glittering glass. Your hand twitched beneath the cloak — impulse to reach for his. Instead you said gently, “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

His eyes cut back, bright and wary. “Don’t I?”

“You offered me warmth with no demand.”

“Oh, I’ll demand something eventually,” he teased but the line lacked bite.

“You could have let me freeze,” you pressed. “Mocked me, walked away. You didn’t.” You lifted a corner of the cloak. “That choice is yours now. Every time.”

Astarion stared long enough that riverwind filled the silence with its hush. Then he chuckled, a sound that trembled at the edges. “Careful, sweet thing. Keep talking like that and I might start believing I have choices.”

“Maybe you should,” you echoed your earlier words, softer still.

He inhaled — sharp, startled — like the idea itself was a sudden ache in his ribs. For an instant vulnerability bared its throat. Then his grin returned, dazzling and defensive.

“Let’s test this newfound autonomy, shall we?” He stood, offered a dramatic bow, and extended a hand. “Come. The wind’s unrelenting, and I know a niche halfway down the cliff face — sheltered, private, excellent acoustics should I burst into impromptu sonnet.”

You laughed, taking his hand. His fingers were cool but steady, closing around yours with teasing ceremony. As you followed him along the narrow path, the cloak swirled your ankles, trailing his scent.

At a ledge half hidden by thorny broom, he paused, gesturing you ahead. A natural alcove cupped a sliver of embers from some forgotten traveler’s fire; still warm. He dusted the stone, sat, then tugged you down beside him. The space forced proximity — knees brushing, cloak draping over both. Twin warmths: velvet outside, his body heat inside.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded. In the dim, his eyes burned garnet, softer than any flame.

A playful silence stretched. Then he cleared his throat theatrically. “Right. About that sonnet…”

“Oh gods, no,” you groaned.

“Too late. Inspiration strikes.” He pressed the back of his hand to his brow, reciting in a tragic stage whisper: “O crimson cloak upon a trembling frame, / Envy of dawn, ye put bright day to shame—”

You dissolved into laughter. It echoed off stone, mingling with his self‑satisfied chuckle.

When your mirth subsided, you found him watching you — smile gentled, eyes steady. “I like that sound,” he admitted quietly.

“What sound?”

“That laugh. It…does something foolish to me.” He glanced away, almost shy. “Makes monsters feel less monstrous.”

Your breath caught. Without thinking, you slid your hand across the small gap, resting it atop his. He stiffened — a reflex born of centuries — then eased beneath your touch, exhale feathering the cold air.

“Monsters don’t share cloaks,” you whispered.

“They do,” he said, lips quirking. “They just expect payment in flesh.” A pause. “I’m trying something new.”

“And how does it feel?”

He considered, thumb grazing your knuckles. “Terrifying,” he said. Then, softer: “Nice.”

You smiled into the dark. “Borrow the feeling as long as you need.”

“Dangerous invitation.” He curled his fingers, lacing them with yours. “I may never give it back.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep you, then.”

He laughed — a fragile, wondrous thing. “You drive a scandalously hard bargain, darling.” He squeezed your hand once, then let the silence rest — comfortable, living. Wind rattled faraway branches, but the alcove held only warmth.

Minutes — or hours — later, when your watch ended and you both rose to return to camp, Astarion reached to reclaim his cloak. His hands paused at your shoulders, clutching velvet as though reconsidering.

He released a hush of air, almost a sigh, and withdrew, leaving the cloak on you.

“Keep it till morning,” he said, eyes unreadable. “Consider it… interest on our deal.”

“What deal?”

“The one where I practice giving without taking.” He winked, stepping back into moonlight. “Don’t get used to it.”

Too late. You smiled, heart thudding. “Good night, Astarion.”

He hesitated, then with the softest smile you’d ever stolen from him, murmured, “Good night, warmth‑thief.”

He vanished into shadow, leaving you cloaked in crimson and something far rarer: the promise of choice.

[elvirable]

Instincts

[ Astarion x f!Reader/Tav ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: complete themes/tags: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light angst at the end, you know the sex scene after the tiefling party?, yeah so this is it, with astarions pov, already catching feelings smh, smut is halfway through, just skip to after all early dialogue

----------------------------------------------------

Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his simple plan crumbling apart.

In other words: Astarion has been struggling to balance century-long instincts with newfound feelings, an undeniable connection. He carries out his simple little plan as intended, but meets complications he didn't quite expect. ----------- A/N: so i hung up my cod medals of honor to write this.. i've been playing for a month now. originally posted without proofreading, but its now edited for grammar and some terms -----

It was hard not to have fun around you.

Something of a child-like giddiness would buzz through his nerves whenever you sauntered over, his marbled red eyes wouldn't dare to miss a beat of the vision you were. Swaying hips and that deceivingly coy face. Of course, you were strikingly beautiful – a wickedly delectable sight – but that wasn’t the only source of his carnal anticipation.

It was just you, the enigmatic little thing you were. 

Admittedly, Astarion believed he had read you like an open book the moment he laid eyes on you. It was an instinct of his: gathering a cerebral repository of notable ticks and body language, facial twitches, and octave changes in those around him. Watchful, constant observations.

He had chalked you up to a sort of stoic character at first. Graceful, to a degree, in your manner of subtly balancing the world around you. A stable composure, quick and quiet without brash or idle chatter.. unlike that Gale. You were a less flagrantly repulsive hero-type crafted in his mind – but he had still expected you to be oh-so predictable with a shallow drive for self-emaciating ‘justice’. Whereas the others wore their baggage like a garment, you held your cards close to your chest – like a chameleon suddenly thrust into the spotlight.

Yet the sun rose and fell two or three times around the wilderness of Elturel, when he found himself pleasantly contradicted. He normally didn’t dedicate much attention towards someone he believed he so easily pegged, but his interest began to pique. Just enough to leave him sitting with an edge and a consuming desire to peer in closer. 

Maybe it was the way your mouth twitched into a quiet smile during his verbal antics on the road or the firm passiveness you held from the blighted village to the drama of Emerald Grove; an intoxicatingly confusing blend of traits you harbored. The closer he watched you, the less blurred you became. You didn’t fear being authentic and enforcing boundaries to those who attempted to use you – but you weren’t cruel; you met the world around you just as it was, without discrimination. No unnecessary harm, no free handouts either. 

Or perhaps it was your sarcastic remarks that stirred what little glee he had in him; an especially delicious and refreshing insight into your humor. While he could care to give a critical note or two on your lack of blatant cruelty, Astarion respected your compelling demeanor; he witnessed how all these companions turned their eyes so frequently to you with decision.

But what he did know for sure was the eye contact.

Gods, the first time your heads swiveled mid-strife and your gazes locked with a rich crackle – the memory alone was enough to stupefy him! Something strange stirred, something that didn’t sit comfortably. He didn’t know  what to make of it.

With all this said, that same sensation boiled inside his stomach as he mulled over his every interaction with you. He recalled that moment of midnight – when all was still and you had caught him prepared to taste your throat. Your wary stare pierced through him, washing away briefly the desperate pangs of blood-thirst and left him feeling.. nervous. 

Ugh, how he despised the feeling. 

He was sickened when all those ledgers of observations caved in on himself, caught in his pale throat. He had taken such an overwhelming liking to you – to the extent, he had realized, that he was drawn to your guidance, your approval; a repulsive frustration at the time enough to coil through his cold veins. Without much to say, however, he was adamantly relieved when you conceded and soon regularly allowed him to drink from your slender neck. 

His trail of thoughts glossed over your stifled grunts onto the following morning: when you came to his defense as everyone felt the need to chime in with their unfettered prejudices. And how his ease, his excitement around you became persistently potent – a fresh energy that filled him as you spurred on his teasings and whims. Astarion noticed your subtle release of your ever-strong walls, just enough so he could relish in your humor and affable side.

There was always a hesitation at doting on the sensation that rose inside him at these thoughts of you. He surmised he was merely back in the practice; where he spun honeyed words and charmingly guile eye contact, to wrap his target around his finger. Any little edge of control he could grasp onto, the familiar taste of influence he used to know so well. These habits of two hundred years were kicking in. He’d play the part and – sooner or later – this eagerness to please would be reversed onto you.

Whether it was his own willful denial or the culmination of fate’s ever-spinning thread, the first crumble began the night of the tiefling party.

.

Cool and clear was the star-freckled night. Everything was too merry for him: the wide-toothed grins of the tieflings, sharp strums of the lute, the chatter. Even the wine was downright awful, pungent and tart like vinegar. 

Astarion would’ve normally indulged in his bitter mood, but it was the sight of your drunken smile that diffused his prior desire to complain.

How interesting, he thought as his eyes lapped up your squinted grin and eased laughter. It was helplessly infectious to see you so earnest, casually prattling on in conversation throughout the camp. 

Red eyes followed while you made your rounds, encouraging the tiefling’s dancing lights spell and conversing with the bard. Astarion even raised a brow at the playful expression that washed over your face as you spoke to the hulking druid by the name of Halsin.  When you strolled over to Shadowheart and he caught that carefully provocative glint in the raven-haired cleric’s eyes – a chord of jealousy grew taut inside his chest.

He had half the mind to feel insulted that you hadn’t wandered in his direction yet, but that was quickly dispersed when he noticed you dismiss yourself and head towards a wooden crate near the riverfront. 

Almost like a shadow, Astarion swept in your direction. Whether it was to merely take in your smile up close or to put his plan in motion, he settled on the latter. You were rifling through the crate that held what could barely pass as wine, muttering a quiet curse about the little tiefling probably pocketing a bottle or two.

“Here’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed,” the words dripped from his mouth with a sweet cadence. “You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”

You swiveled at the sound of his voice, raised brow accompanying your hazy smile. The influence of wine lowered your usual wariness, and he caught the realization flutter across your face; there was no constitution in attempting to act reserved, especially with the rapport you two had grown. Amusement was written all over your face, hardly concealed – you had decided to play along.

“A little treat? You can do better than that.” 

“Oh, I certainly can. It would be my pleasure.”

He leaned closer, half-lidded eyes darkening and breath heavy with a mischievous delight. You watched him expectantly, reveling in what would pour from his lips.

“How about this one,” he loosened his posture, as if you both were stowed away from the entire world instead of dawdling along the outskirts of the shoddy camp. “All these accolades from the tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

Astarion watched the smile further spread across your soft lips, the wickedly sweet crinkle in your eyes while you crossed your arms. An exhilaration rose underneath his suave demeanor, even the bemused snicker invigorating.

“Is that the best you can do?” came your quick quip.

“Hmm, let me give it another go,” his voice was thick with arousal, a hungry glint in his eyes. “Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation – it’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.” 

His words clung to the air for a moment. The deliberate onslaught of poetic pleasantries laced with such ardent lust, the hum of the wine – Astarion studied your face swirling in thought. Heat had built up from the lower half of your body up to your cheeks, a quiet neediness wavering in your stance and threatened to boil to the surface of your skin.

Gods, you were thinking, it had been the longest time and you’ve been touch-starved.. more so under the urgency of all the trouble you had been thrust into. You never trusted a pretty boy, but you'd be damned if his flowered prose didn't stir something in you; you had never been the subject of such pursuits, real or not. Desire rushed through you, coiling in your stomach.

There was a beckoning in his eyes as they clutched onto yours, imporing you to draw closer, and his boyish features were even more alluring when caressed by the moon’s glow. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust those flowery words. They were tinted with an air of rehearse.

“Did these really work on Cazador’s targets?”

“Well, they’re working on you, aren’t they?”

A mild bashfulness buzzed through the warmth on your cheeks, as you couldn’t really deny it. 

“How about if I said these little words… everyone’s favorite,” Astarion continued, pausing for effect.

“I love you.”

Sly amusement colored his face. He had succeeded in riling up the intrinsic urge, no matter how much you tried to conceal it. How adorable you were when your gaze fluttered briefly.

“Having fun, are you?” you observed, smile holding on your lips.

As he had mused earlier, he was. It was hard not to whenever around you.  

.

Festivities settled down, the entire camp fast asleep once the wine crate had emptied and bellies were full. Only the chittering of crickets could be heard amongst the trees.

The forest, usually dressed in potent darkness, stilled beneath the moonlight. A serene, subtle beauty of the night – one Astarion was very accustomed to knowing, to living . He had done this so many times it had become second nature – the salacious rendezvous, the secrecy and fleeting thrill of them all. 

He had contemplated before, the image of you melting in the throes of pleasure. He wondered whether you preferred his hands gentle or rough, what sounds would dribble from your lips – if they sounded as sweet as you tasted. 

Though nothing could prepare him for the reality, which far surpassed fantasy; the pretty little thing you were, bare figure caressed by the lowlight, slowly making your way towards him.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

You offered him a coy smile, cheeks still warm and rosy. An ache rushed between your legs at the sight of him sauntering forward, his well-formed broad physique. Lean, yet muscular – and the soft details of his appearance; the crease of laughter lines, the curl of his lashes. Just the anticipation of it all served enough to make you wet.

“Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he leaned closer, desire coating every syllable.

“You don’t have me yet,” you matched the pulse of his words, emanating a playfulness to goad him on further.

Greedy lips suddenly met yours, and you were pressed against the tree trunk. His palms gripped the back of your thighs, swift dexterity almost catching you off guard. You instantly melted, like a puddle, in his grasp; your soft lips just as eager, skin aching and impatient for his touch. You never realized how sensitive you were, how truly touch-starved until you fought the gasp that escaped your throat.

Astarion didn’t waste a beat, carefully laying you onto the grass below while he drawled slow kisses along the curve of your neck. Fervent yearning permeated from your skin; you wanted more, and he was prepared to give you everything .

He drank in the sight of your arousal, eager to please you yet potently roused from the position he was in: you were such a delectably pretty thing sprawled beneath his weight, completely bare and vulnerable. Wide eyes bashfully beckoning him to just taste you.

“Part those precious legs for me, beautiful.” He directed, his voice less of a growl this time – instead more sweet. Soft. 

You could feel your face heat up further at his words, following his command without hesitation. Tender hands trailed along the soft skin of your thigh, his intense eyes briefly leaving yours to watch his fingers lingered over your folds – you were glistening with slick , fevered arousal.

“Oh my, you’re already so wet for me.”

His voice was almost a whisper now, as a keen excitement rushed through his veins. A twitch pressed against his briefs, his cock already hard and eager especially when his eyes darted towards your rosy. So willing, ready to indulge his every whim. For a moment, he settled in your vulnerability – a sight he didn't expect to see. You were always full of such delicious surprises.

He shook the thought from his mind, allowing a sly smile to return to his lips.

“Who knew you were so needy?”

Your cheeks flushed, timid lips scrambling to form a defensive retort before he slipped two fingers inside. Only a quiet gasp left your mouth as your soaking warmth struggled to adjust, tightening around his digits. You were barely able to comprehend the words he said, instinctively bucking your hips.

“ Astar ..” your breath hitched before you could even finish, when his fingers began a slow pace. Teasingly slow, you would beckon, but there was nothing you could even fathom whispering anymore. Your walls began to clench, eager to receive his unwavering attention.

Hums of pleasure pulsed through your every nerve, rapidly as he fastened the curling pace of his fingers. Every hitched and quiet whimper encouraged him, his palm soaked with your slick. He relished the sight of your round breasts rising and falling feverishly, your heat clenched around him – his cock further hardened, precum no doubt pooling on the fabric of his briefs. 

All you could manage was to focus on the pleasure mounting between your legs, thighs now quivering with anticipation. His thumb slid up to your swollen clit, never breaking pace, to draw teasingly slow circles. He adjusted his weight to lean closer to your face, the sudden attention causing an overwhelming shyness to press your eyes shut. Your thighs trembled more now while his fingers beckoned and lured your pleasure to spur closer and closer.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice the gentlest you’ve ever heard. 

He couldn’t place the sensation – of feeling entranced in a sense, when whimpers of pleasure fumbled from your beautiful lips. Astarion almost felt lost, nearly mesmerized, when you kept those pretty eyes trained on his. He could feel his eyes soften at your vulnerable stare, and all at once everything inside him craved to slide into your warmth. To feel you melt into him, to hit every right spot to make you sing, for every sweet prayer cascading from your lips to be for him.

“Mmf..” You were left in a sudden foggy haze, a mix of pleasure and confusion when he abruptly withdrew his fingers. You couldn’t fathom any words to speak, only furrowed your brows in a hazed and disorientated manner.

“I’m sorry, love.” His breathless laugh seemed dazed before the low, heaviness returned to his tone, “You were practically just begging with those lovely eyes of yours.”

He leaned downwards to plant soft, reassuringly delicate pecks across the nape of your neck; each a mantra to affection, leaving a buzz in their wake. Carefully he peeled down his briefs with a wasted moment to rub his eager cock against your slick warmth.

Your moans sounded even sweeter closer to his ear, and a delighted sigh pressed from his lips onto your skin. His throbbing cock was met with some resistance as the length and girth was suffocated by your tightening walls, warm spasms at the sensation being filled. 

A guttural, low moan hummed from his throat. Fuck, you were so perfectly tight.

His cock pulsed at the sudden attention, aching with pleasure and a warm buzz radiating through his skin. He paused for a moment, needing to relish every second it felt to be now pressed so deep inside you. The softness of your skin, delicate cues of pleasure washing over your face, how your warm walls enveloped his cock.

You moaned as he pushed more of his length inside your needy warmth, tears beginning to well up in the corner of your eyes. Pleasure and slight pain blurred, the tip of his cock almost pressed against your soft cervix and a rouse of heat traveling up your spine. 

His hands gripped the globes of your ass to adjust his leverage, slowly but deliberately digging his hips against yours with each thrust. His body was achingly ready, alive with frantic urge. He was incapable of any pretty words to whisper, tangled groans replacing his usual velvet tongue.

As he pounded quicker into your warmth, your pulsating soft walls sucked his cock tighter and deeper with each buckle. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck. Sweat formed on his pale forehead as he wrestled with his restraint, his cock stroking in and out, hitting pleasure points you never knew existed and relishing in your shameless cries – desperate for him.

Soft, warm pleasure unraveled across you in hot waves. If you had the mind, you could only hope that no one could hear you two – the sounds and wet smacks of his skin colliding against yours – but all you could do was turn your pleasured cries and whimpers into soundless gasps.

Your lips parted, hips bucking before your back arched from the ground. Every fiber of your body attempted to get closer to him, and his to you. Of some act of grace, your hand caressed his face, lifting him to face yours.

Oh, how he wanted to melt right there. 

Eager eyes met each other, brows furrowing together into a soft, tender stare. Astarion’s hips began to buck erratically for a moment as he struggled to regain his resolve. Once steadied, he continued to bury deeper into you in every perfect way. You were clenched so tightly, so divinely around him while his name trickled as a whisper from your lips. 

“You – fuck .. “ you couldn’t be bothered to form a proper sentence, every whim of comprehension overwhelmed by new heights of white pleasure. You were lulled into a stupor, and his grip tightened at your garbled pleas.

“Thaaat’s it,” Astarion practically begged, voice ragged, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face as it twisted with sweet expressions. An eagerness gnawed inside him, to push you to the edge of your pleasures. You were so perfect while you cried his name, taking all of him so well. 

“Come for me, sweet girl –” Hushed and delicate was his tone, only causing you to surrender any inhibition.

Heat wound tightly in your abdomen, lashes wet with the tears trailing down your warm face. Every nerve was wound so tight, finally snapping into a rush of white hot pleasure that left your skin flushed and tingling. You tried to whine out his name, but it spilled out into broken gasps as you reached your fingers to grip his silver curls. 

His hips began to stagger, riding out your pleasure until he could no longer postpone the succumb to pleasure. They lost their rhythm, and a low moan rumbled from his throat as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of your tightening walls, pressing into you.

You could feel his cock throbbing in you, as your nerves are slow to fizzle from the glowing buzz, and it swelled. Your slick walls were overstimulated nearly by his desperate, choppy thrusts before a cry escapes his lips – his cum flooded into you, thick and hot. He felt waves of warmth, so real and alive. So helplessly right.

The air was silent, as you both collected your breaths in hurried gasps. Astarion peeled his weight off of you only to roll onto his back, by your side. Your body felt light and completely slack, almost boneless as you sunk into the earth underneath you. Aftershocks of pleasure still rippled throughout your nerves. 

Both of you laid sweaty, flushed, exhausted, lacking the energy to care. You broke the silence with a wobble in your voice.

“Fuck, you came inside me..” you stated the obvious, reeling from pulsing nerves and vision hazy. 

“I’m sure the druids have something that’ll take care of that..” Astarion said breathlessly, extending an arm to wipe the sweat glistening off his forehead. 

He waited for a quiet laugh or a retort, but neither came.

Turning his head, he was met with the vision of your exhausted figure fast asleep. Slowly your chest rose and fell, face at ease – a vulnerability he had only seen when you were in deep sleep, if you weren't tossing and turning.

The quiet sat with him while he attempted to gather his thoughts, his experience. He had seen an entirely different side of you – exposed delicate. Part of his conscience pooled with guilt. 

He had a plan. A nice simple plan. It wasn’t foreign to casually bed strangers, seducing and manipulating them into following his every whim. Hells, this had been routine for two hundred years . The count was lost on how many nights he spent using people like ragdolls, only to be lured back into the hands of Cazador.

Astarion returned his gaze to the stars glistening above, attempting his best at reducing it to the odd circumstances or perhaps he was simply out of practice. 

Regardless – even if it was more than a fluke – he had already fucked things up. The thought felt tainted now, uneasy and riddled with remorse. 

Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his plan crumbling apart.

[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

[meanbossart]

How did Du Drow’s personality and behavior change after turning away from Bhaal and losing his urges?

Very minimally, really. His personality changes most dramatically throughout the course of the campaign, but it's gradual enough a process that it shouldn't feel that way, at least.

Barring the standoffish-ness that he starts with (which I think is an understandable reaction to losing all of your memories and suddenly being in a life-or-death situation with a bunch of strangers) DU drow starts off as a person who isn't interested in anyone's well-being but his own, nor is he invested in anybody's story or their outcome. Everything he does is in the interest of his own survival or personal, subjective ethics (saving Arabella because she's an individual child in distress- not saving the tieflings in act 2 because they've served their purpose and he doesn't care for them as a group). He's charming, and even polite, but he makes it very transparent that he doesn't care for the happiness or comfort of others.

By act 2, he finds himself with people to care about and whose goals he's invested in - he kills Yurgir so Astarion can get his answer from Raphael even though he thinks it's an objectively dumb idea. He helps Shadowheart fullfil Shar's trials despite the fact that her religion seems like absolute nonsense to him - he wants to make these people happy when there is nothing in it for him., and that's absolutely novel. He's also a slightly warmer person by then who is friendly to, like, half of the party.

By act 3, he's been inspired by Shadowheart's rebellion and is kind of mirroring that in his own way. He enjoys occasionally helping refugees in the outskirts of the city if for no other reason than to go against the grain - he develops a bit of a "fuck the rich" and a Stick It To The Man attitude that I think is inherit to the man that he is, and harkens back to his forgotten days of living-rough as a youth; when he would only enter cities to thieve or collect supplies and looked at the more privilege sects of society as weak and pompous. He lets Yenna into camp after she shows up because dude just loves an urchin, he tries to free the prisoners from the Iron throne and then help out the slaves at the Steel Watch Foundry, he gets Minsc back to afford Jaheira some peace of mind and doesn't hesitate to refuse his father's gift.

Besides Shadowheart's and Astarion's stories, I think learning that the bloodlust he thrived in was imposed upon him rather than organically acquired was what most sent DU drow into an identity crisis. The idea of doing things against his will unbeknownst to himself, or of being a pawn in an authority figure's game, is something that brought him equal amounts of shame and anger. It also triggers him to want to get in touch with the less violent side of himself - since, supposedly, that was actually all him - and leads him to want to do the best by all of his party members (to mixed results, considering Karlach's and Gale's fates) and establish the depth of his existing relationships.

...Ironically, I think being killed by Bhaal and then resurrected by Withers led him to slightly stray off that path of improvement. I mean, the TRUE evil's been banished! Now he can stop feeling guilt and shame and worry and just live his life COMPLETELY free from critical thought! Literally the first thing that he does upon waking up is declare that he's cured, and then announce that he's a blank slate - he isn't, and we all know that.

DU drow then proceeds to be confused as to why he still enjoys murder and mayhem for like 2 months, until Shadowheart and Astarion gently knock some sense into him (not by dissuading him from enjoying murder and mayhem - but recognizing that that's a part of him that wouldn't go away at the simple snap of a bony finger, and an urge that he has full control over.) Naturally, what Wither's did also did his invincibility complex no favors.

So... He really is kind of the same. He is slightly more in-touch with his own empathy and open to the pleasures of life, but his base personality has remained pretty intact - I would say he turns out to be what that young, lanky forest cryptid would have been all along, had Bhaal never entered the mix.

[explorevenus]

dessert before dinner ♡ gale dekarios x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors DNI or i will call the cops and also ur mom

word count - 4.3k

description - domestic life with you has turned gale into a big softie, in more ways than one-- he's already got the dad bod, why wait for the baby to match?

aka dad bod malewife gale wants to knock u up :3

tags/warnings - dad bod gale w mild self esteem issues at the beginning but he gets over it, technically bg3 spoilers ig (takes place post-game), food mentions, praise, p in v, creampie, breeding kink but fluffy cus gale is sappy, inappropriate use of the Weave, inappropriate use of mage hand

a/n - this piece was commissioned by my LOVELY LOVELY SWEET BABY ANGEL @d10nyx WHO DESERVES EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD AND MORE AND IS SUCH A FUCKIN SAINT FOR BEING SO PATIENT FOR THIS ;n; pls go check out her work i adore her so bad

also just as a note b4 i get One Billion Asks about it for posting this-- i am not abandoning 'something permanent' nor am i abandoning writing for resident evil just bc i am posting one singular bg3 fic !!!!!!!!!! might seem obvious but i just wanted to get ahead of it bc i'm paranoid and have seen it happen to other ppl ;~;

my masterlist ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Life post-Netherbrain softened Gale Dekarios in many ways. 

Some of the most obvious ways included the relief of tension that came with no longer bearing the weight of the world on his back, ridding himself of the curse that plagued so many of his living years, and finally being able to settle down back home in Waterdeep. 

But if you asked Gale, the one thing that softened him the most was you. You, you, you. Ever since the moment you tugged him out of that collapsing portal, everything Gale did was for you, and by the looks of it, that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. 

Stability was something Gale hadn’t had in a long time, and while he wouldn’t exactly call running around Faerun fighting deities and monsters and people alike ‘stability,’ he could at the very least find that stability in you. Every battle, every brutal journey through the swamp or the Astral Plane or the wreckage of Baldur’s Gate, you were right there with him. 

And now you were home. 

Home had long since become anywhere with you, of course, but now you were really home, back in Waterdeep with Gale and his family and his beloved Tara, and what’s more, you had his last name. You were truly his and he was truly yours, in every possible sense. With his days spent teaching the art of illusion magic to the next generation of hopeful mages and his evenings spent returning home to his precious wife, Gale wasn’t sure it would be scientifically possible for him to be any happier, let alone any more fortunate. 

Gale was in the kitchen preparing dinner when you returned home, having spent the afternoon handling a few errands and wandering about the city. It always came as a delight for him to see you exploring his hometown in the same ways he did growing up, discovering all the neat little oddities and secrets that lay beneath the unassuming surface. 

He turned over his shoulder to face you at the sound of the door creaking open and then clicking shut, a smitten grin tugging at his face already. The sight of his beloved would never cease to fluster him, after all. 

“There she is,” Your handsome wizard greeted warmly, “The lovely and– might I say, stunningly beautiful– Princess of Waterdeep.” 

Just like that, you were blushing too, approaching to wrap your arms around him at the waist from behind, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder, affectionately roaming every inch of him you could get your hands on with a gentle touch. 

Yes, life post-Netherbrain softened Gale Dekarios in many ways, and his figure was no exception.

It was no secret Gale had an appreciation for the little indulgences in life, like rich wine and too many sweets, alarm clocks shut off when they really shouldn’t be, cozy bedding and plush furniture and hearty ‘marry me’ dinners. But, luxuries like that were rather few and far between when the two of you were on the road, and long days of traveling by foot and fighting to survive made for great exercise at the time. 

Suffice it to say, having a stable home and living without being under the constant threat of death meant you weren’t quite as active as you used to be. With time, his cheeks filled out a little more, and his clothes became a bit snug as lean muscle gave way to plush flesh. His skin glowed. He looked relaxed and nourished, he looked healthy, and you couldn’t get enough of him if you tried. 

Your wandering hands did make him a little timid in the moment, however– he hadn’t put on a concerning amount of extra padding by any means, but still, this new look was taking some getting used to. 

“Quite alright, my love?” Gale asked with a soft laugh as your hands came to rest at his hips, your kisses trailing up the side of his neck. His skin was glowing warm beneath your attention. 

“Mhm,” You hummed innocently, nodding, your hands sliding forward to feel along the delicate roundness of his belly through his shirt. “I just missed you today, dearest, and you look so delightful. I have half a mind to talk you into dessert before dinner, hm?” 

Your beloved husband was well and truly burning up now, stuttering over whatever he had going on the stove and very much considering abandoning it in favor of bending you over the countertop, but something made him hesitate. 

With a bashful laugh, as though he were trying to play it off, Gale replied, “Right, well, I suppose I could use the exercise.” 

Your brows furrowed with confusion and you glanced up at him over his shoulder, trying to read his expression. He said that so casually, like he didn’t think anything of it, and it broke your heart a little bit. 

“For all it may be worth, I think you look divine,” You said, face straight and meaning every word of it. Even if Gale was trying to laugh it off, it wasn’t a joke to you. Quietly, you added, “I would argue a bit of fluff suits you well, my darling.” 

Thankfully Gale tended to be rather easily convinced by you. 

His posture relaxed a little bit, and now the laugh that puffed out from between his lips was noticeably more genuine. “Perhaps it’s about time we put ‘a bit of fluff’ on you. I fear my mother will lose her head soon if I don’t.” 

You tilted your head and narrowed your eyes with playful curiosity. “Your mother? And what concern is that of hers, hm?”

“Only the same concern of every mother, dearest,” He grinned as though it were obvious, “Grandbabies.” 

This response of his gave you pause. Gale’s mother hadn’t exactly been quiet about her desire for grandchildren since the day you met her, but she’d never gone too far, never pestered you to the point of being uncomfortable, and never made it out to be particularly urgent– you wondered if perhaps she’d been less patient on the topic with Gale. 

Your pause had a lot less to do with the pressure to please his mother and a lot more to do with the undeniable fact that the thought of Gale fucking a baby into you made your knees go weak. You weren’t even sure you were breathing for a moment, until it occurred to you that you’d been quiet for too long and any further hesitation to respond could be taken the wrong way. 

Clearing your throat softly, you continued the playful banter, “I think my earlier suggestion stands to remedy that concern as well, no? Dessert before dinner?” 

What you didn’t know was that Gale had been thinking about this a lot more often than he was letting on. Sure, the pestering of his baby-crazy relatives was one factor, but more than anything, the safety and security he’d felt in the year since you’d married had him throwing himself into the romantics of domesticity with abandon. When you first met, he never imagined such a future would be possible for him. The chaos and uncertainty that came along with defeating the Absolute brought death far closer than most people would see the other side of, and yet you made it. 

Against all odds, hand-in-hand, you still made it. And every night since your wedding, as you tucked into bed alongside one another, he dreamt of you glowing with the radiance of motherhood. He didn’t want to pressure you– after everything that had happened, it felt like a lot to ask of you to also bear his child, like that might be pushing his luck… though you had all but just confirmed your interest with that last remark, and that didn’t make it past him. 

Gale turned off the stove so as not to burn the masterpiece he’d been cooking before turning around to face you, his broad hands coming up to cradle your face. The look he gave you was intensely romantic and almost vulnerable, his eyes gazing deep down into your own as he asked, “My darling, do you know how long I’ve yearned to make you a mother?” 

Your heart was hammering now, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you found yourself unable to break eye contact, not that you wanted to anyway. Bashfully, your hands came to rest upon his soft shoulders, feeling his own heart pulsing away in his chest, his cheeks going rosy with the same warmth. There was always a certain synchronicity between you and Gale. 

Voice lowering to a near whisper, the emotion behind your words just as strong, you replied, “How long?” 

The look he gave you was tender and reverent. Your husband clicked his tongue and smiled at the floor before cupping your jaw in his two strong hands, meeting your eyes once again. Tone rich with sincerity, he began, “Back in the Grove, seeing you with all the little Tieflings… a lot of people would have disregarded them as scoundrels, but not you, my darling. 

“You embraced their mischief– not only embraced it, but nurtured it. Refined it. You treated them with patience and respect, and you didn’t look down upon them, you kneeled to their level. At every turn, you protected them, but you never patronized them. You learned just as much from them as they learned from you.” 

He paused for a moment, thumbs stroking over your flushed cheeks, his own skin burning just as hot. Pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, Gale continued, “I’m sure you can imagine how that sent off the train of thought. For the longest time, I bit it back. It felt like a pipe dream, and I didn’t want to kid myself– I’ve done enough of that for two lifetimes. But then the Netherbrain fell, the Absolute released her iron grip on the commonwealth of Faerun, and what’s more, you accepted my hand in marriage. 

“The first morning I woke up next to you in the safety of our marital bed, it didn’t feel like such a distant reality anymore. There you were right before me, and in my mind’s eye, you were bathed in the golden glow of dawn and fertility, your nightgown clinging to your divine, ripening figure. Ever since that moment, the image of you with child has dominated my every waking thought. I crave it like the sweetest wine, my heart, to see you become plump and radiant with motherhood.” 

Leave it to Gale to so easily render you weak in the knees with his poetics. The way he described it, you could see it too. You could see the silk of your nightgown becoming snug around your middle as your belly would come to rise like pastry, you could see the vein in Gale’s brow tense while he would struggle to put a crib together. You could see your grocery lists growing to include nappies and baby food, you could see a space at the dining table occupied by a high chair. 

He was right, it didn’t feel distant at all. It felt so close you could taste it, the veil between this reality and that one now paper thin, like a cobweb you could just blow away. 

Before you could think up a response, he was speaking again, his tone delicate and low, “Just imagine it, dearest. A child born of you and I would have the purest connection to the Weave imaginable, and you would make a gorgeous mother… You know I adore you always, but I must confess, I’m not sure I would be able to leave you be, seeing you like that. It might just require the strength of a thousand men to pry me away.” 

You puffed out a laugh, your face and the tips of your ears burning with bashfulness. Leaning forward to hide your face away in his soft chest, you teased, “So it wasn’t your mother who put you up to this?” 

“Ah, I’m afraid not, my darling,” He cracked a grin, planting a smooch to the crown of your head. “At least not entirely. This was a hole I dug the both of us into largely on my own, I’ll admit.” 

His hands slid down to rest upon your hips, and for a moment, you just held each other like that. It felt cozy, it felt comfortable, like time itself had paused around you. In all your days, no one but Gale could make you feel like that so consistently. You almost wondered if there might be some subtle illusion magic at play in moments like these, but you knew all too well that Gale’s charm had very little to do with the Weave– he was just like that, and you were all the more fortunate for it. 

Gale’s hold on your hips tightened in an affectionate squeeze before his arms were snaking around you, one at your lower back and one where your thighs met your bottom. He lifted you from your feet and spun you around to face the other way, propping you up on the countertop in one smooth movement, the tightening front of his pants nestled right up against the crotch of your underwear through your dress. 

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling, and he didn’t make it any easier for you to remember how to breathe when his next move was to stoop his head down and smother your throat with languid kisses. 

“Gale,” You gasped, hips rutting forward to knock into his own, your head spinning as the distinct outline of his arousal grinded right up against your clit. “Gods above, you’re going to be the death of me…” 

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest at your accusation, his teeth nipping playfully at your pulse point before he spoke against your skin, “Always a flair for dramatics with you, my beloved bride… though if that should turn out to be true, then you’d die how you lived; ravished, revered and adored by your most loyal wizard.” 

Just as soon as he’d put you there, Gale was plucking you up from the countertop again, and while it was your immediate assumption that he was going to carry you off to the bedroom, it would seem he didn't even have the patience for that. Your back hit the dining table with a gentle thud, though the ever mindful wizard braced the back of your head gracefully with an oven mitt just in time. 

You dissolved into a fit of squirms, giggles, and quiet yelps as his lips and teeth met your neck in a display of needy attention, his fingertips crackling with magic as they found their way up beneath the skirt of your dress. Grip printing into your hips, he dragged you back until your clothed cunt was flush with his bulge again, and the electric shock of pleasure that rang through you in response threatened to knock the wind out of you. 

Gale wouldn't, you thought to yourself, surely he wouldn't enchant his-- 

He tilted your chin up with his knuckle, a brutally smug grin plastered on his rosy face as your eyes met again. "Are you with me, dearest?" His thumb came forward to stroke over the plush of your bottom lip, almost pulling it into a pout himself. 

"Yeah," You shivered, nodding without even really thinking about it. You couldn't even bring yourself to poke fun at him for that like you might have otherwise. "Did you--" 

"Shh," Gale cooed, untying the laces of his trousers to relieve some of the pressure before he folded over you and rolled his hips forward again, caging you between the table and his warm, plush frame. The barrier between you was lesser now, and you felt it immediately.

He was radiating the Weave, delicate strands seeping through the thin fabric of your undergarments to kiss, lick, and tingle over your flesh. The sensation wasn't completely foreign-- taking a master wizard as a partner and lover for life naturally lent itself to inappropriate use of the arcane-- but no two intimate encounters with him were ever alike. Sometimes it made you wonder just how many of those hours he spent locked away in his tower were giving him ideas. 

In hardly any time at all you could feel yourself soaking through your panties, your hips rutting forward to chase him and your mind slipping away into a helpless little puddle of mush, and he had barely even touched you yet. It was all by design, of course-- he didn't want to get too cocky and risk wasting a drop of himself that could otherwise be getting you pregnant. 

Discarding his shirt and dragging your panties down with shaking hands, Gale groaned at the sight of your arousal, the extent of it. You were right drooling between your legs, pussy glistening with the very same juices that drenched and clung to your underwear. He couldn't help but dip two fingers between your silky folds to collect your nectar for himself. As soon as it hit his tongue he felt like he couldn't breathe. Your taste was creamy and sweet like icing, a flavor he wouldn't ever tire of even if it was the only thing he could ever have again. He could devour you for a lifetime and still hunger for eternity. 

"You're going to grow so beautifully," He said lowly, eyes half-lidded and his pupils blown wide as saucers. In you he saw nothing but the future. One hand shoving his pants and briefs down his thighs and the other planting itself upon your stomach, his cock sprang up to kiss the plump flesh of his own belly as he continued, "I will thank the divines for the remainder of my life that I should have the pleasure of watching you ripen with our fruit." 

You could have cried. Your bottom lip did wobble a little bit as you gazed up at him, choking up, and he stooped down to kiss you immediately. 

"None of that," He mumbled against your lips, dragging his stiff, weeping cock through your folds to keep you good and dizzy, every contact of his skin against yours still buzzing with the arcane. "I have you, okay? I have you. I love you. You're alright." 

Nodding in response, feeling the tears dry up right then and there, your lips parted in preparation to respond but all that came out was a deep, pleasured cry. Gale was sinking into your hole like he was made for you, stretching you open with slow, delicate thrusts, his breath heavy and lustful in your ear. 

Stuffing you full of himself until the head of him was threatening to kiss your cervix, Gale stilled for a moment, nipping at the shell of your ear before kissing your cheek affectionately and checking in with you, "Feeling good, my darling?" 

"Mhm," You nodded, and as soon as your approval registered to him, he began to move. 

Bliss. Pure and uncut bliss. That quiet little hum of approval quickly melted into staggered breaths and mewls, your hands finding purchase in kneading at the dough of his waist. You really couldn't get over how well the extra weight suited him, how perfectly it softened his edges and padded out the warmest parts of his physique. He was made for a body like this, a little bit round and squishy and sweet. You wanted to swallow him in one bite. 

Every stroke of his cock inside you felt like true euphoria, crackles and tingles of pleasure radiating outward from each and every nerve ending, and he felt it too. You could tell by the look on his face, the way his mouth hung open with deep, wanton moans, the way he shivered and stuttered with damn near every thrust. 

"G-Gale," You cried out, nails printing into his flesh as you tried to tug him down to you. 

Typically he would have obliged you without hesitation, but Gale had other plans at the moment. Bracing himself against the fine oak wood to the right side of your head, his other hand gripped at your thigh and angled your leg up with ease. Before you could register what he was about to do, he was already doing it. 

Folding you into a half mating press, he drove into you deep, the Weave sinking into your bloodstream with a staggering intensity that nearly made you scream. 

Swallowing your cries with his own lips, Gale kissed you just about as deeply as he was fucking you, his facial hair scratching and tickling at your cheeks as his silky tongue slipped over your own. Every knock of his hips against your own had the dining table rattling too, the walls of your marital home ringing with the sounds of sex, the obscene squelching of your pussy sucking him in, the needy whines and moans slipping from you both. 

You felt like you were on fire in the best possible way. Every square inch of your body was alight with lust and magic, your legs hooked around his hips to draw him even closer. The two of you could fuse together and you would still want to get closer. 

Soon enough, your throbbing clit was met with the unexpected pressure of arcane fingertips, measured strokes of a figure-eight over your swollen bud that coaxed you higher and higher and higher until you felt like you were weightless there on that table, lifting from it, your lips only parting from his own as your head fell back against the oven mitt in a desperate gasp for breath. 

That breath was almost immediately followed by a broken cry of his name, the stimulation causing your greedy cunt to clench and pulse around him, again, by design. Sinking down on his elbow so he could speak directly into your ear, his cock stroking so deeply into you that it nearly felt like it was prodding at your lungs, Gale groaned, "That's it, pup, there you are... Such pretty noises from my good girl, my darling little wife..." 

"I love you, I love you, I--" 

Cutting you off with a kiss, Gale replied, "I love you more, and I'll give you as many babies as it takes to prove it."

Your vision went white, thighs wrenching tight around his hips as you plummeted over the edge unlike ever before. It felt like traveling through a lightning bolt, your spine arching up into a fine point, your stomach pressing up against his own as he emptied his load inside you, mage hand still circling your puffy clit. 

Ropes and ropes of creamy seed flooded your hole until you were stuffed to the brim, leaving behind that delicious pressure that came along with being stretched so full. Your bottom half felt heavy as you fought to catch your breath beneath him, tears leaking from your dewy eyes. 

"N-No more, no more with the mage hand," You stammered, sucking in a sharp breath as its thumb and forefinger took your clit in a delicate pinch. 

Another second or two passed in which he continued to have his fun before deciding you'd had enough. The stimulation to your bud slowly ceased, but as he withdrew his softening sex from you, you quickly realized you didn't feel any less full. 

Brows knitting together, you squirmed and struggled to sit up, watching Gale turn his back to dampen a washcloth before returning to you, gently wiping the sweat from your brow and the slick from your inner thighs, brushing your hair away from your face reverently. "Shh, shh. Just sit still for a moment longer, alright? Let me get you cleaned up." 

He continued his gentle work until you were refreshed and sparkling before scooping you up from the dining table like a princess in his arms, carrying you off to the bedroom to get you both changed. 

It was only as the two of you entered the room and you caught sight of yourself in the floor-length mirror that you realized Gale's mage hand was still very much at work, its thick middle and ring fingers plugging you up nicely. Not a drop was wasted with the diligent digits blocking the way. 

Gale helped you out of your dress and into a soft nightgown, and in your exhaustion you were ready to just crash into bed for the night. Curling up atop the covers as Gale changed into loungewear of his own, you were about to fall asleep right then and there when he woke you with a loving grin. 

"Huh?" You mumbled, reaching up to rub your eyes, and as his own raked over the image of your beautiful body, he couldn't stop thinking about the many ways it would come to develop over the next several months. 

"We still haven't eaten, my love." 

You groaned, burying your face back into the bedding stubbornly. "But I'm tired..." 

"You were the one who wanted dessert before dinner, sweetest," He teased. "We've had our dessert, and now it's time for dinner. Besides, I thought we agreed to fluff you up a bit?"

A bashful smile tugging at your cheeks, you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, huffing out, "Okay, okay, fine," reaching your arms out for him to carry you again, and you were so lucky he loved to baby you. 

Gale didn't hesitate to take you into his arms, your head nestled up against his chest as you returned to the kitchen together. He placed you gently down in a chair at the dining table before assessing what he'd left on the stove earlier. His 'masterpiece' was now ice cold and unappealing to him, and surely his darling wife deserved better than cold and unappealing. 

Turning over his shoulder to look at you, Gale asked you a question that you didn't think you'd ever hear him ask; "How about tavern food tonight?"

[floweryanarchy]

I find myself curious about Cazador, The Emperor, Dame Alyin, and Dark Urge. What roles do they play in the au. BTW as a Texan and a History nerd I love how your have handled the western setting.

Ayyeee I’m glad ur enjoying the western au, I’m just going off the knowledge I have from RDR2 hehe

I’ll leave the emperors lore for another time or ask because he involves a lot of the main lore that’ll also need to be explained which also ties in Mystra plus Gales sickness. This post would be a mile long. But for the rest of them, here you go!

Dame Aylin: The daughter is Selune and the leader of a secret rebellion movement against the tyrant Ketheric Thorm. Her Mother Selune whereabouts are shrouded in secrecy, a protective act to keep her safe from her sister Shar and her followers. Dame Aylin had been the figurehead, uniting the group rebellion under the name of the “Selunites.” Till one day, a raid that had taken place when awry, the group attempted to aid the citizens of moonrise and take down Ketheric ended horribly, resulting in Aylin being taken prisoner. Most believed she to be dead. Question is what falling out did Ketheric have with Selune that he turned against them.

Cazador Szarr: To the upper class Cazador had made his name into a symbol, he’s a wealthy aristocrat, a patron of the arts and lavishes in the finest luxuries money can offer. To the public he’s seen as a man to be respected, a man who donated money to orphanages, attends operas and galas alike. But beneath the surface, he’s a ruthless monster that runs one of the most powerful drug/crime organizations in Baldurs Gate. A trade that was passed down to him from generations. His chosen seven, referred to only as “The Spawn” are kept on a tight leash that had the unfortunate circumstances of falling into the man’s clutches. They deal in flesh, opium and stolen goods, done simultaneously most of the time. His drug trade is what brings in the most cash, keeping the rich and desperate dependent on his supply. Cazador believes himself to be superior, a man of culture ruling over cattle. As for his “Spawn” he chooses each one carefully, grooming them to be perfect in his own image, as their own identities are stripped away and forced to be dependent on him. His spawn are not free, they are his property. And Astarion was one of his greatest projects.

BHAAL: No one knows where he came from, his most loyal followers knew him to be an ex-preacher, a man of faith that turned to madness. He believes that murder is a sacred act of utter devotion, a holy ritual. It was easy to amass such a cult following, with cold hearted bloody thirsty killer roaming the west just looking for an excuse for unnecessary bloodshed. His followers believe in his words, that the law and civilization are weak when compared to utter chaos. They seek To break down these structures, and begin a new era in the west. One under Bhaals rule.

THE DARK URGE: They were once Bhaals favored, an orphanage child that was groomed into the man’s cult. They were trained only to know blood and carnage and nothing else. Till one day, they went missing, and no one from the cult were able to locate them. Perhaps Orin had played a hand in their disappearance, but all they know is they woke up with a massive headache and a serious case of amnesia.

[avocado-writing]

7 anon here! Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to gn s/o trying to comfort them awkwardly? Like asking if they should stay with them & leave to give space? If they should talk, just listen, or keep quiet?

Astarion

Oh, you are just as awkward as he is, and he loves it.

It’s so endearing, the way you try to pick the right words and keep failing. It’s a bit entertaining to see you squirm.

But you’re trying and it’s more than anyone has ever done for him before, honestly.

He wraps you in his arms and holds you close. Whispers in your ear a thank-you for caring. Feels his soul soften when you tell him he’s worth the world to you.

Gale

He’s exceptionally erudite most of the time, and so are you - that is why he’s so taken aback when you struggle for words.

You search the rich well of your eloquence for something to say and come up short. Instead you just pat him on the shoulder… and he bursts out laughing.

He apologises; he didn’t mean to be unkind, he just wasn’t expecting that reaction. In fact it’s enough to lift the mood and get him smiling again.

Wyll

Sees that you’re struggling with the best way to offer comfort, and instead just reaches out to take your hand.

He presses his lips to your knuckles so that you can feel when he talks.

“Knowing that you are here is enough to help, my heart.”

He feels you relax, letting go of the worry while stepping into his arms.

Halsin

You try to make awkward, comforting smalltalk with him, but a heavy hand on your knee silences you.

“It is enough that you are with me. Let us just… be together.”

So you are, sitting quietly side by side, enjoying the view of the flowers he’s sought out.

The simple act of you being next to him is a salve to his hurt.

Haarlep

The incubus is prone to flights of fancy. Melodrama comes with the territory. You’re lucky that, when he’s upset, it isn’t for long.

It’s so obvious how awkward you are. He laughs in your face at it. When you harrumph he turns playful again, wrapping you in his arms and tail and pressing his face into you.

“Oh, darling, I was only playing. Come now, let’s stop being sad and move onto better things…”

Dammon

Really tries to not show how upset he is in front of you, ever.

Prides himself on being strong! It wouldn’t do for you to see him crack and falter.

He can see what anguish you’re in trying to comfort him and never quite finding the right words. It makes him feel better, somehow? Like you should both be more open to showing these parts of yourselves.

The sincerity behind your awkward affection is enough to make him joyful again.

Rolan

Is probably a little gremlin about it, let’s be honest.

“I thought the hero of Baldur’s Gate was meant to be good at these sorts of things…”

”Well I thought the wizard of this tower would be adroit at social situations, but clearly I was a fool…!”

And then you’re back to bickering. It’s nice. It’s familiar. And you’re both happy.

Zevlor

It pains him to see you so uncomfortable.

He takes you in his arms, holds you close. Face pressed into the crook of your shoulder.

“My love, you should be the one leaning on me. I’m sorry to make you fret.”

You reassure him he has no reason to apologise to you, and just hold him until things feel better - which, eventually, they do. Your hug is a cure.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

for @artilaz

afab gn tav, voice kink, smug insufferable raphael

-

The devil just kept appearing when he wasn’t wanted. It didn't seem to matter how Tav or their companions always told him to buzz off, that they weren't interested in his infernal offers. Raphael was a persistence predator, and every time he showed his handsome mug, he was patient and cordial, as if each stale interaction hadn't happened. As if he was so confident they would return to him, they would need him, that their disregard for his generous attention simply slid away like water off a duck's back. He was like a hyena waiting for his cornered prey to fall into his mouth – toying with his food, as Gale had said – and it was infuriating. So when Tav heard that now familiar little sound of hellish teleportation, when the stink of fire and sulphur flooded their nose for a moment, they and their companions shared a grumble. Not this again…

“Haven't you got anything better to do than bother us?” Tav said; they wanted to get the first word in for a change.

Something was…different about Raphael this time. Though he was always polite to a fault, Tav thought that maybe they could sense an undercurrent of irritation or frustration developing from their constant rejection, that even a powerful everlasting creature like him had his limits – wishful thinking, probably. Yet as he stood there, emerging from his portal of hellfire and brimstone, there was a certain energy to him, something in the tilt of his smile, the gleam in his eyes…some kind of dark delight he was thrilled to share. Tav felt on edge, and they weren't the only one. They heard their friends shifting uneasily behind them, moving to grip weapons just in case.

“Now, now,” Raphael crooned, waving his hands in a passive motion. Always so expressive. “There's no need for such a vitriolic response. I'm not here to try and convince you of the error of your ways. Quite the opposite, in fact. At least, for one of you in particular…” His deep, soulful brown eyes stared at Tav, through Tav. I know something interesting about you, they said. Tav's stomach dropped.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Snapped Karlach. Raphael's eyebrow twitched, but he barely glanced at her.

“He's not talking about anything,” said Tav. “He's just being cryptic as usual.” Raphael's twitching eyebrow raised high on his forehead.

“Really?” He drawled with an obnoxious little tilt of his head. Dragged the word out, growly and amused. Deliberate enunciation. Sweat began to bead at Tav's temples, cold fingers of suspicion crawling up their spine. “Talking…such a simple concept, and yet, words…their sounds…can hold so much power.”

The baby hairs on the back of Tav's neck and arms rose. “You know,” they whispered.

“Yessss,” Raphael purred. A viciously smug smirk twisted his features, showing a glimpse of the scheming fiend he truly was. How much he was enjoying their horror and discomfort. “Sweet little mouse…I know.”

“What does he know?” Asked Karlach. “Tav, what's going on?”

“Please, not in front of them,” begged Tav when Raphael's smirk widened.

“As you wish.”

He clicked his fingers and, just like when he first accosted them, Tav found themselves in his House of Hope, at the mercy of its master. Raphael stood, backlit by the roaring fireplace, creating elongated shadows from his human guise. He observed them for a moment in silence, clearly delighted.

“Imagine my surprise,” he said after consideration, speaking in swaying dulcet cadence. “When I learned that the stalwart adventurer rebuffing me at every turn, denying my every attempt at co-operation and treating me as though I were naught but a bothersome snake oil salesman…is the very same adventurer bringing themselves to a breathless, mewling climax each night in secret, beneath their hot and sweaty covers, aroused by thoughts of…ah, how did you phrase it in your throes of ecstasy? My “rich and rumbling baritone”? Creative, I'll give you that.”

“How did you find out?” Demanded Tav despite their mortification.

“I have my ways. Don't fear, I've hardly the spare time on my hands to watch you every night, but let's just say that, for a devil of my calibre…the magnitude of a mortal's lust for me can be something of a beacon through the din of your chaotic realm.”

“Well, then,” Tav muttered miserably. “What's your plan? Are you going to blackmail me into signing your bloody contract?”

“Tempting,” Raphael hummed. He stroked his chin. The way he was looking at Tav made them want to fidget. They resisted the urge. They'd given this devil enough already. “Hmm…no, I think…tonight, little mouse. When your friends are sleeping, when you've tucked yourself so sweetly in bed, when you feel the first embers of desire stirring and your greedy little hands begin to wander…that's when I'll be there.”

“What? What does that mean?!”

Tav received no answer.

“See you soon,” the devil cooed, and Tav was back with their alarmed companions, scrambling for an explanation. Eventually they managed to defuse the situation after they swore they hadn't signed anything and wouldn't sign anything, but in truth they weren't so sure anymore.

They tucked themselves away earlier than normal, when the sun began to sink beyond the horizon. In their thin sleeping clothes, beneath their scratchy blanket. Their small tent, far away enough for some privacy. They lay in their bedroll, listening to their friends talking and milling around without really hearing what they were saying. They were waiting for that sound, that smell. For the indication that the devil was making good on his promise, for whatever insidious purpose he had in mind. To say that Tav was nervous, fraught with anticipation, would be an understatement.

As time passed, as noises from the camp dwindled, Tav's nerves grew. Their eyes stung from staring at the canvas ceiling of their tent. They shifted, stretched their legs, certain that no one but they were awake. Yet the devil didn't appear.

Where are you, Raphael? They thought, too wired to stubbornly fall asleep and snub the fiend again. You said tonight…

He also said other things. Things in the dangerously smooth and terribly attractive voice that had got Tav in this situation in the first place. When your greedy little hands begin to wander… Tav knew, conceivably, what that meant. What Raphael wanted them to do. The question was…were they going to do it?

Little mouse…

He'd never called them that before. The way the syllables melted off his devilish tongue, that deep crooning purr and the implications of the pet name…Tav felt the warmth of arousal tingle and tighten in their belly. They squeezed their thighs together, feeling a brief shock of pleasure. Their body had grown used to nightly masturbation. Looked forward to it, even. Their hand habitually crept under the waistband of their trousers, fingertips brushing through soft curls to touch their sex. To stroke their fattening clit with their index finger, eyes half lidded. Little mouse, little mouse, little mouse…

“My, my…the taste of your unfurling desperation is almost divine…”

Inhaling sharply, Tav yanked their hand away. The devil was a looming shape in their tent, watching them. Tav hadn't heard him arrive.

“What do you want, Raphael?” They hissed.

“A show, of course,” the devil answered bluntly. “You didn't think I'd forgotten your appalling behaviour, did you?”

“You can't be serious…”

“Oh, but I am. After all, my time is precious, and you've wasted enough of it as is.”

“That's your excuse to act like a pervert?”

Raphael threw his head back and laughed. “You poor, naive thing. Perverted? Hardly. But if that's what you want, perhaps I'll wake your friends and have them watch their mighty, fearless leader tremble and sigh and fall apart to nothing but the sound of my voice…”

“You're despicable,” sneered Tav.

“Don't pretend you don't enjoy it,” the devil quipped, tilting his head. “I can smell your excitement…little mouse.” Tav clenched their jaw, trying to fight the shudder that rippled through their body. Raphael had growled those last two words, a spark of fiery orange in his eyes. Flexing his power over Tav. Basking in it. He inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders “Now…I tire of this banal chatter, much as it excites you, droll as you can be. But fret not. We have far more interesting things to talk about…such as your dripping quim, and how you're going to touch it for me.”

Positioned like a leering gargoyle, Raphael began his instructions; rasping a lewd sermon, his scripture filthy, obscene cruel promises and commands.

“Take off your trousers and part your thighs, pet. Let me see your wanton caresses.”

Tav obeyed. How could they not? Wriggled free of their trousers and spread their knees to let Raphael see their damp curls, flush slick folds and swollen clit peeking from their hood. Hot, sticky flesh they stroked and rubbed to Raphael's throaty, self-satisfied croons.

“Look how wet you are. So desperate. All for the sound of my voice… of course, I can't fault you for your taste, but I wonder…each time you shooed me away, denied even my attempts at conversation…was it because you feared the thrill? Tried to deny it? Or because you longed to hide, to touch yourself to completion faster? Mmm…” The devil sounded like he was getting off, too. Tav bit back a gasp, thinking of him squeezing his thick erection through his clothes. Was it leaking? Did his balls ache, wanting to empty? It didn't matter that Tav knew his arousal wasn't for them, but for the swelling of his ego. They were thrilled all the same. They groaned, pelvic muscles clenching. Fresh slick spilled over their fingers. They dipped a fingertip into their entrance, swirled their clit and pinched it – until their hand was magically forced to stop. Raphael inhaled deeply, releasing a rich chuckle. “Oh, pet…I hope you don't think you're going to be finished already. No, no…you're going to tell me about every little fantasy that's passed through your simple mortal mind, every orgasm you've experienced thanks to me…every dirty thing you've wished I would say…and if I'm satisfied, I might consider letting you rut your pleasure to its peak.”

[hemoglobinjuicebox]

Ribbons of moonlight cascaded through the crystalline window panes and danced across the oaken herringbone floor. What wasn't touched by that benign white glow was a haze of shadow he dared not linger on. The candles hand long since burned out, leaving behind only the faint scent of melted wax and ashen wick. Astarion's lips curled in signature disgust—then he looked at you.

You, who stayed sound asleep under that heavy red duvet. You, who swaddled yourself so snugly in red sheets. You, who rested your head on his chest, whose soft breaths puffed over his neck and whose hands sought him out in your dreams.

You, who would have been sacrificed and slaughtered along with him, had life not intervened. Oh, he hated that thought. He hated it as deep as his hatred could reach. Such a dark inkling wasn't worthy of you.

“Shhh,” he whispered as you began to stir. He shifted carefully as not to further disturb your rest and gathered you in his arms. “I'm here, my love. I'm here.”

It amazed him how his voice alone could calm your mind. He supposed he wasn't a stranger to it—your voice had the same effect on him—but he had never expected it to be so truly reciprocated. You found comfort in… him? A year ago, he would have thought the notion absolutely ridiculous. Even in safety, it bothered him. It nagged at the back of his mind, a constant cruel reminder. But you did it. You found comfort in him. He was who you turned to first for anything. He was someone to hug, someone to laugh with, someone to make you smile, someone to complain to, someone to cry on… and someone to love.

Someone to love. Now that was a thought he liked, if a tad reluctantly based on the way his heart seemed to crunch in his chest. He still liked it, and as his hands stroked your head and soothed you back into blissful slumber, he found himself wondering about what else he liked.

Food? No, that was too basic. It was too survivalist.

Good food? Perhaps that was better.

A home-cooked meal. That sounded divine. Especially if it was made with Gale's hands (not that he would ever admit it and boost the wizard's ego. He certainly didn't need it).

He liked soft fabrics that fit him just right. He liked sharp blades decorated with shiny jewels and gold. He liked a rich, red wine in the evening with you. He liked his collection of cloaks and parasols with delicate laces that shielded him from the sun so he could take an afternoon stroll with you. He liked the smell of an old book as he curled up with you. He liked the way the autumn leaves of the trees in the park would rustle and scatter across the streets and how you would giggle as they crunched beneath your feet.

He liked life with you.

As strong a word as it was, he might have even loved life with you. You were the reason he had one again in the first place.

He leaned down, closed his eyes, and let his lips graze your temple before he laid back down on his pillow. Yours had been abandoned for months now, as you had taken up the most wonderful habit of using him as your pillow. He drew the duvet to cover you better, made sure you were properly snuggled up, then shut his eyes again. The warm darkness enveloped him once again, and he drifted back into his trance, his memories bathed in gold and only of you.

[brotherwtf]

more of the boys™

----

Gale's scuffed leather boots are rough under John's fingers, worked to the perfect wear they are now from long days of work outside, kicking motorcycles into gear or cutting strips of leather for saddles. They're akin to everything about Gale, worn down to an almost softness beneath John's touch.

Gale has his legs in John's lap, slightly cramped in the bed of John's busted up pickup, a picnic blanket John stole from his mother underneath them. John drove an hour outside of the city just to meet Gale out here, just to be with him. But God, he doesn't regret it.

"Cassiopeia," Gale mutters, leaning his head back and pointing up at the sky with a slender finger.

"Beg your pardon?" John asks, voice cutting through the cool of the night like a knife.

Gale shifts, taking his legs from John's lap and sidling closer to his side, taking John's head in a soft and firm hold and points it up to where he was pointing.

"There, mother of Andromeda. The stars," Gale whispers, pointing at the slight 'w' shaped line of stars straight above them.

John chuckles. It's sweet, sort of, Gale's a special kind of sweet that John is learning to love, that Gale knows the stars like this. Gale's hands aren't on John's head anymore, they migrate back to his lap but he leans into John's side, eyes still fixated on the sky above them. It's beautiful, John thinks.

"You think they'll name the stars after us someday?" John asks and Gale shakes his head, solemn almost.

"Nah. Got nothing to be named after. They don't name stars off of people like me," Gale mutters, rolling his neck until it pops.

"I would. I would name an entire galaxy after you," John says and that's when Gale's eyes flick over to him. Blue, baby blue, even illuminated by the stars. They could hold a whole galaxy in themselves, and John would be lucky to find it.

"You would, wouldn't you?" Gale says, his rich voice laced with a tinge of mirth.

"For you, babe? I'd do anything," John mutters, nudging his nose against Gale's temple until Gale turns his head, meeting his lips with a gasp.

Gale's sweetness is always a little rough, a little hard around the edges, and his kisses are no different. Passionate, deep, but this one is still filled with love as opposed to lust. John drinks it in every time, desperate for Gale's lips on his, desperate to learn every little detail about him, every last thing, what all of the kisses feel like. He could spend years kissing Gale if it meant learning everything about him.

[scratchandfriends]

Apologies and Insecurities (+18)

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Female Tav

WC: 2400

Summary: You’re so sick and tired of hearing about your lover’s toxic ex. It comes to a head and you’re ready to either break it off or kill him, he finally comes to his senses. 

*author’s note* let’s assume mama Karlach has had her second upgrade and can touchy feely, yes?

TW: SMUT! Praise kink, good boy Gale, unprotected sex, attempted murder? Arguments, make up sex, cream pies, oral sex f receiving, fingering, love making idk?

— — 

The party had made camp early. The sun was still out, but just starting to make its gentle dive into the horizon. 

Shadowheart, Astarion, and Wyll were seated side by side on a fallen log being used as a makeshift bench at the campfire circle. 

The smell of cooking meats wafted throughout the camp. The unlikely trio shared a bottle of stolen Elsmetar Red as they watched the evening’s entertainment unfold. 

*wOOOOOOsh* *rip* *THWACK* 

The sound of an arrow piercing tent fabric and lodging firmly into an oak tree rung out. 

“OH right, Gale, SURE! Just the same as it is every time!” Tav, bow in hand storms around the rocky outcropping obscuring Gale’s tent from the rest of the camp. Her footsteps stomp across the dirt, headed back to her own tent, kicking up pebbles in her wake. Tav’s face was bright red and her knuckles were ivory white from the tight grip she had on her weapon. 

“My darling, please!” The wizards voice sounded both apologetic and irritated resonating from behind the rocks as he exited his tent to follow. “It’s really nothing! I don’t see why you’re turning this into-“

“You don’t? Famed “wizard of waterdeep” fails to see the reason his lover is upset?” Tav huffs, still making a beeline across the camp, not even bothering to turn around. “Arcane knowledge can’t replace common sense, it seems.” 

*ppfftt* Astarion spits out a sip of wine, desperately trying to hide the sound of his chuckle. 

“Wow, a storm cloud hovers closely over the island of paradise it seems.” Wyll comments softly with raised eyebrows. 

“Will you shut up? I want to see if she kills him this time.” Shadowheart remarks, taking a sip of wine and enjoying the show. 

“If you can’t appreciate a bit of commentary, you don’t know good theatre.” Astarion says, smugly. “What do you think he did? Said Mystra’s name at the peak of climax? Bit her hand when slurping down another amulet?” 

“You’re terrible.” Wyll scolds while taking a drink. “… I’d put 50 gold on the first one.” 

Astarion smirks and holds out his hand. “Shake on it.” 

Wyll clasped Astarion’s pallid hand with a guilty looking grin. 

“Sweet love, all I asked is if you wanted a piece of cheese!” Gale pleads as he speed walks to keep up with Tav (running wasn’t his strong suit). 

Tav spins around on her heels and comes to a stop. 

“NO, you didn’t ‘ask if I wanted a piece of cheese!’” Tav yells, eyes wild. “You said ‘here, have a piece, you love blue cheese.’” She continues to seethe. “I FUCKING HATE BLUE CHEESE!” 

“I merely forgot! You can’t put an arrow through my chest because I had forgotten what kind of cheese you prefer!” Gale says, exasperated. 

“You said you knew I loved it! That’s not me! That’s stupid fucking Mystra, you gods-damned ignoramus!” Tav rushes towards her lover, angry tears pricking the corners of her eyes from the frustration. 

“If you had told me the wizard would die over a slice of Roquefort, I’d have sent you to the healers.” Astarion says with a smirk. “This is good.” 

“Should we be worried? Do you think the orb will explode if she kills him? Should we leave?” Wyll asks. 

“If that’s the way I die, so be it. This is too rich to miss.” Shadowheart says as she sits up further in interest. 

“Darling I must protest. I cannot thrive under these ridiculous expectations. You’re stifling me with your constant accusations! It’s been an age since Mystra and I promise I-“ Gale’s expression turns from apologetic to angry. 

“You just don’t fucking get it, do you? You can’t-” 

*THUMP*

The camp was silent. 

Shadowheart and Astarion gasp. 

“He did NOT just magically silence her, did he?” Wyll says with raised brows. 

“Oh he’s positively done for.” Astarion remarks with a devilish giggle. 

The trio watched Tav emote and scream in complete silence due to the magical effects cast by her wizard. She grips an arrow from her quiver and loads it into her bow. 

Just as she pulls the string back another voice echoed throughout the camp. 

“ALLright Soldier, that’s enough of that.” Karlach had emerged from her own tent and approached Tav’s raging form. “Come on, no murdering our friends.” 

Karlach bends down, scoops Tav up by her waist and throws her over her broad shoulder. 

“You’re going for a dunk in the river to cool off. If you still can’t play nice after that, we’ll have to try something else.” Karlach says as she affectionally pats Tav’s leg draped over her glowing chest. Tav silently kicks and screams in protest as the tiefling carries her much smaller body off into the woods. 

“Aww. Such an unsatisfying finale.” Astarion pouts as he takes another sip of wine. 

— — 

After a long soak in the cool river and a heated venting session with Karlach, your temper had subsided along with the searing sunlight of the day. You had forgone the normal revelry of an evening at camp to brood alone in your tent. Most of your companions had gone to bed you could only hear the dirge of crickets from the forest outside your tent. 

You stared at the peaked, cloth ceiling of your tent as you laid on your beck on your bedroll. You had been trying to sleep, but the anxious gnawing of your argument with Gale and the frustration of feeling like you’d always be second best were keeping your eyes pried open. 

How could you ever compare to a literal goddess? 

She was powerful. Beautiful. Inspirational. Celestial. 

Was he thinking of her every time he laid with you?

Tears threatened to form in the outer corners of your eyes again but you blinked them away. You hugged a pillow close to your chest to comfort yourself as you rolled onto your side. You let out a long sigh. 

As you gazed towards the opening of your tent, you see a flutter of movement agains the fabric near the door. After you watch whatever it was take a few fumbling brushes against the outside of the tent, the tent flaps separate and you see something enter your tent. You sit up on instinct and reach for your bow. 

Your heart rate slows when you see a translucent blue hand holding a large, beautiful, albeit clumsily put together, bouquet of daisies and baby’s breath. You snort a laugh, but make no move to accept the flowers. 

The hand wiggles the arrangement in your direction tentatively. You reach out and roll your eyes. You take the flowers from the magical, disembodied hand and set them at the side of your bed roll. 

“You can come in, Gale.” You say loudly. 

As if by magic, Gale steps sheepishly through your tent flaps and makes sure they’re closed properly behind him. 

“Good evening.” He says with a soft smile, standing awkwardly. 

“Thank you for the flowers.” You say after an uncomfortable silence. You swallow. “Come, sit.” You pat the bedroll across from your seated form. Gale sits gingerly across from you, his body not facing you fully, not wanting to seem too familiar. 

“I shouldn’t have tried to shoot you with an arrow. That was an ov-“ You begin. 

“No.” Gale interrupts you. “I will accept no apologies, for I am the one who is here to make amends.” 

You quiet yourself. You were the one who flew off the handle over cheese, for gods sake. You couldn’t form words. 

“Tav, I was being selfish. I didn’t think of the way you felt, being with someone whose last lover was a god. I was only thinking of myself… something I’ve been apt to do in relationships…” Gale hangs his head. “Something I need to be kept accountable for. It wasn’t about the cheese, I know that now.” Gale turns and looks into your eyes. “I come here to beg you for another chance.” 

“You needn’t beg, Gale.” You smile sympathetically. “Of course I’ll give you another chance. Daisies are my favorite flower, after all.” You reach out and take his hand in yours. 

“So you’ll give this old, bumbling wizard another shot at love?” Gale grins and squeezes your fingers in his. 

“Old bumbling wizard? Elminster is here?” You jest. 

“Thankfully no. It’s just you and I, my love… always.” Gale chuckles before reaching out with his free arm and pulling you close. “You’ll let me prove how deep my love for you is, yes?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your body and gently pushing you to lay back on your bedroll. 

“I’ll allow it.” You say playfully as Gale hovered above you. 

Gale hums and lifts your tunic over your head, you sit up to help him in the process. You go ahead and shimmy down your trousers, leaving your body completely bare on your mattress. Gale’s face is immediately buried in your neck, littering it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. His stubble scraped your flesh and your hips twitched in response. 

“How lucky am I…” Gale murmurs into your neck. “… that I get to have you like this…” He brings his hand up to squeeze your breast roughly, the way he knows you like. You moan softly at his touch. 

His kisses trail down your sternum while smooth, uncalloused hands pinched and twisted at your nipples. Hands never leaving your sensitive chest, Gale kissed above your navel, then your lower abdomen, then your mound before nuzzling his face into the coarse patch of hair here. The wizard takes a deep inhale. 

“So lovely, as always my sweet. Can’t wait to taste you…” Gale pulls his hands from your breasts and uses them to push your thighs apart as he settles himself between your legs. “Mmmmmph..” He moans even louder than you do as he delves his tongue between your lower lips. 

“Shit-“ You sigh out and instinctively tangle your right hand into Gale’s brown locks. 

And just like that, all transgressions and arguments were slingshotted out of your mind. The way his lips closed around your sensitive clit and suckled gently had your eyes rolling back in your head. You bring your left hand to grip your own breast, losing yourself in the pleasure Gale was bestowing upon you. You grind your hips further upward into his face, met with contented hums from deep in his chest. 

“You taste so sweet.. could drink you forever, darling…” Gale mumbles as he comes up for air, placing a gentle, wet kiss on your inner thigh. He shifts his position so he can bring two fingers and rub them messily up and down your slit. Your body jolts every time they brush your clit. “My my, what a sight.” Gale smirks before pushing those two digits into your sopping hole. He immediately curls them upward to pull and tap on your favorite spot. “Need you to cum for me, love… let go for me….” He coos before returning his lips to your clit. 

You cry out and arch your back. Your walls start clenching involuntarily and you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen.

“Fuck- just.. like- that-! Ah!” You dig your nails into Gale’s scalp as you reach your climax. You barely notice the slowing of the wizard’s fingers inside you as you ride out your orgasm. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to catch your breath. “Good boy.” You pant out with a dazed grin on your face, still staring at the ceiling of your tent. 

The bedroll shifts and you feel a soft hand pull your legs apart. 

Gale had shed his clothing and was now between your legs on his knees, straddling one of your legs while hauling the other over his shoulder. 

“You can’t say things like that…” Gale warns as he uses his hand that wasn’t holding your leg to his chest to guide his leaking cockhead through your soaking folds. “You know what that does to me…” He whispers as he slowly rubs his tip across your clit. 

You smirk and rake your nails down his chest. 

“Maybe I do…” You buck your hips, wordlessly begging him to enter you. 

Gale can’t resist the wetness of your sex any longer and pushes his member inside of you slowly and deliberately. You both let out relieved gasps as your hips become flush with each others. Without pulling out completely, your lover slowly grinds himself into you, pelvis rubbing your clit with every movement. 

You feel a gentle kiss pressed to the side of your knee. 

“Gods you’re fucking gorgeous. So perfect…” Gale praises as he brings a hand to pinch your nipple. 

Completely lost in pleasure, you arch your back and moan, not caring if anyone else in the camp hears you… they had already heard you argue earlier, this couldn’t be much worse. “Gale!” You cry out. 

“Yes love, I’m yours. Only yours.” Gale pants out between rough thrusts, the allure of his own end overwhelming him. “I love you, only you..” He drops your leg from his shoulder and leans over you, capturing your open lips in a searing kiss. 

“I’m-“ You whimper out, breaking the kiss after a few moments, feeling the tension in your sex threaten to release. 

“I know, I know, me too…” Gale huffs, forehead pressing against yours. 

“I love you.” You say as you grip Gale’s hair again, keeping him as close as you could physically have him. He continues grinding his member vigorously against the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your pleasure crested and you tipped over the edge with a cry. 

“I love you.” Gale mirrors and grunts before his hips stutter and you feel him pumping you full of white hot spend. Once the twitches of his cock slowed, he slumped over to your side and pulled your panting body into his chest. 

“So… you’re staying here tonight?” You ask as you draw lazy patterns on Gale’s back with your fingernails. 

“Oh without a doubt. Astarion was still up when I came in here. Called me names the entire time. There’s no way I’m going out and looking at his smug face now.” Gale says. 

“Such a plagued, little wizard you are.” You tease. 

“Plagued, yes. Little, no.” Gale protests. “I think you can attest to that.” He says with a charming smile. 

“Shut up and go to sleep.” You roll your eyes. 

[puggnugget]

The Circus

Part Fourteen

Warning: Explicit, mature themes, 18 & Over

Word Count: 2,084

Writers Notes: Dinner is served, enjoy.

**********************************************

"Oh. My. Gods. Ohmygods!" Karlach roared with glee at the sight of the circus, tugging at Astarion's arm.

"Can we go, pleeease? It's been ages since I've been to a circus!" She pleaded.

"Why are you asking me? I'm not your keeper," Astarion retorted with a soft chuckle as he pulled his arm from her grasp.

Karlach spun around to face you and Gale, clasping her hands together as she knelt before you.

"Pretty please, mom and dad?" Karlach jested as she begged.

"I'm certain there are far more pressing matters at hand, like.. oh, I don't know.. the end of the world, perhaps?" Gale quipped, shaking his head.

You nudged at his side gently, a fool for Karlach's attempt at pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Surely we can spare an hour at most?" You protested on Karlach's behalf, forcing your bottom lip to protrude in an exaggerated manner to feign pouting.

Gale and Astarion exchanged glances briefly, if they were to turn you and Karlach down they were well aware they'd never hear the end of it.

"Fine, no more than an hour," Gale relented as he exhaled deeply.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Karlach beamed as she scooped Astarion into her arms, running towards the gates of the circus.

"I'll never get over how she drags him around like a stuffed animal," Gale snorted, watching as Astarion squirmed relentlessly in her arms as he tried to escape.

You lifted off of your tippy toes as you gently pressed a kiss to Gale's cheek.

"Thank you Gale, I owe you," a coy smile parted your lips as your mind wandered, thinking of all the ways you'd like to repay him.

"Oh yes, you most certainly do," Gale laughed as his fingers laced with yours, leading you to the circus's entrance.

It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun cascaded over your body like a warm embrace - you had longed for its warmth every day you had spent in the Shadowfell. The circus buzzed with music and the excited chatter of passing patrons, the smell various rich, fried foods soaked the air around you. You breathed in deeply, almost forgetting the Absolute and your parasite had ever existed.

Karlach raced from booth to booth while she dragged Astarion along, wanting to experience everything the circus had to offer and more. Gale and you took your time as you strolled leisurely through the hustle and bustle, enjoying one another's company. He had managed to win you a small white teddy bear holding a red heart from one of the many booths that offered games.

"Did you use your magic to win?" You laughed softly as you hugged your prize to your chest.

"Perhaps. I mean all the games here are rigged anyways, might as well tilt the scales in my favor to win something for a beautiful lady." He whispered, his mouth parted into a sly smile.

A slight shudder crept up your spine as you observed him in the warm glow of the afternoon. Beautiful glossy strands of chestnut with flecks of silver framed his face. You began to wonder what a normal life would look like with him, where the two of you would end up after all had been said and done with the Absolute.

Your eyes scanned across the circus, noticing a spot laced with curtains tucked just behind the main stage. Quiet and secluded, away from prying eyes - your thoughts began to swirl as an idea took form in your mind. You tugged at Gale's arm, leading him to the secluded spot, ushering him in as you lifted a curtain.

"I don't think we're allowed back here-" You muffled Gale's words with the palm of your hand as you began to kiss his neck. Casting your stuffed bear to the side, your other hand wandered greedily down his chest as you began to undo buttons along the way. Licking and nipping at his exposed skin as you worked your way down.

"Tav, what if we get caught?" Gale mumbled nervously at the idea.

"That's half the fun," you teased as you propped yourself onto your knees before him, your eyes gliding upwards to meet his gaze.

He shuddered at the sight of you, anticipation clinging to the air as his length stiffened at the sensation of your hungry eyes trailing over him. Your hand began to trail along the outline of his shaft with teasing strokes, it throbbed underneath the weight of the fabric begging to be released. You both paused briefly as the sounds of chatter from outside passed by. A smile pulled at the edges of your mouth as a nervous shudder of energy caused you to tremble.

"Shall I stop?" You said in a coy tone as your fingers worked diligently to unbuckle his belt.

He shook his head quickly, heat crawling up his neck and circling in his cheeks. His eyes were brimming with a desire he could not deny himself. You pulled at the waist of his trousers and undergarments, one quick tug was enough to unleash his length as it sprang forth in excitement to greet you. The tip of its slit already dripping from the anticipation of your touch, it throbbed longingly as the heat of your breath caressed it gently.

Your eyes met his searing gaze, Gale was undressing you in his mind. He was already covering his mouth with the palm of his hand to muffle the sounds of his panting. One playful flick of your tongue traced the tip of his hardness, causing his knees to buckle slightly at the sensation. He bucked his hips lightly, a silent pleading for your lips to envelope him. You pulled back, a smug smile on your face as you reveled in his desperation for you.

"Not so fast, I want to savor you.." You whispered coyly.

Gale's eyes flicked to the small gap of the curtain, watching as unknowing silhouettes passed by.

You began to circle your tongue around his tip, lapping up his excitement as each flick increased with pressure. Gale would never admit it out loud, but he loved having his head teased - it was apparent in the way his length pulsed in response. Your tongue continued to swirl around him as you savored his taste.

He let out a soft grunt between the gaps of his fingers as his body began to shake, a faint glimmer of sweat beading at his temples as he fought to control himself. He watched you carefully through lidded eyes as the heat in his cheeks peaked at the tips of his ears. His groaning only served as encouragement as your lips parted, gently taking in the tip of his length as your tongue continued to trace its slit. The warmth of your mouth caused an electric pulse to dance up his spine, another gasp of pleasure escaping his fingers.

Your eyes locked onto one another's as you slowly worked your way down his length, almost succeeding in reaching it's base. His head prodded at the back of your throat, causing you to pull back as you breathed in sharply, releasing him.

"Too much to handle, my love?" he teased in a smug whisper, his voice muffled by his palm.

You let out a soft laugh, you were only getting started. You were determined to take all of him.

You parted your lips once again, enjoying the way his body twitched with every inch you took. Your head began to bob in a slow and steady rhythm, your tongue lashing against his skin playfully with every stroke. Each time you plunged downward, you attempted to take more of him with you.

Gale's body began to writhe as he struggled to contain his excitement, deep panting breaths laced with a low moan seeped through his fingers. His knees buckled again as you took more of him within your mouth, he could not pry his eyes from the sight of you. Saliva began to pool at the corners of your lips, dripping down and off of your chin as you quickened your pace. Your worship faltered for a brief moment at the unexpected prodding of your center. The cold touch of a mage hand slid your panties to the side as it began to trace your slick folds. You shuddered, determined to regain your composure.

You were dripping wet from all the excitement, there was no resistance when two fingers plunged into your depths. A shocked moan escaped the space between your lips and his length, causing both of you to pause for a moment as you glanced at the slight gap of the curtain. Satisfied that you had remained unnoticed thus far, you continued to bob your head as the mage hand's fingers matched your pace.

Gale was seeking dominance, looking for you to surrender yourself to the pleasure but you remained unyielding in your resolve. You braced yourself for the final hurdle, pushing yourself down towards the entirety of his base. It took a moment for your throat to adjust to the pressure as he slid his way down, your lips wrapped tightly around him.

Gale let out a sharp gasp as his body shook, his eyes widened in surprise at the sensation. Your gaze met his, proud of your accomplishment.

The mage hand worked hard at your hot and dripping center, two fingers became three as they curled towards the entrance of your womb. You couldn't hold your moans back, every plunge dragged them out of you as you hummed in ecstasy. The vibrations of your moans added an extra layer of pleasure for Gale, who did his best to stifle his groans.

Your hand curled around his, guiding it to the back of your head, wanting desperately for him to use you for his own pleasure. His fingers wove into your hair, grasping on tightly as he bucked his hips and pushed you downward simultaneously. A breath caught in your throat as he began to thrust, both of his hands guiding you in sync with his movements. Throwing caution to the wind, he could not deny the carnal impulse of filling you with his seed - no longer concerned about prying eyes.

You continued to hum deeply as the mage hand worked the very edges of your depths, teetering on release. The sound of Gale's panting and uncontrolled moans along with the wet slapping of skin filled the small space that hid you both from view. You looked up at Gale through lidded eyes, streaks of sweat trailing down his jaw, his eyes dark and burning with intense desire. The sight of him was enough to be your undoing, a warm, electric pulse coursed through your body as you writhed in ecstasy. Your moans brimming with lust, muffled by his length plunging into the back of your throat.

He bucked his hips hard one last time as he was pushed over the edge. His length throbbed with every eager spurt as he coated your tongue with his hot seed, your name poured from his lips like honey as he shuddered. He held you there for a moment, ensuring you milked every last drop of him, before finally pulling back. He removed his length, glossy and wet, casting his gaze down at you. Makeup streaked your cheeks, you locked eyes with Gale as you carefully opened your mouth, allowing him to see how his seed pooled at the center of your tongue. He smirked proudly at the mess he had made of you. You pressed your lips together, swallowing hard.

Gale helped you to your feet, planting a kiss on your forehead as you assisted him in adjusting his trousers. Once both of you had cleaned up and deemed yourselves decent, you exited from behind the curtain to rejoin the festivities.

"The both of you are worse than a pair of gremishka in heat," Astarion rolled his eyes as he folded his arms.

"I've no idea what you mean, Astarion," Gale chuckled nervously as he feigned ignorance.

"Oh please, when the both of you are out of sight for more than ten minutes that can only mean one thing!" Astarion wagged his finger in your face as if he were scolding you.

"Where's Karlach?" You asked, scanning the circus.

"Gave her the slip," Astarion smiled proudly.

Gale pointed behind him, attempting to stifle a laugh.

"Astarion! There you are, come and have a look at what I found!" Karlach yelled from across a crowd of people, prompting Astarion to dash away.

[gale-force-storm]

Anticipation

Rating: E Pairing: Gale x female!Tav Additional Tags: Regency AU, pwp, oral sex, PIV, gale being a tease Word Count: 7.3k

Read it on AO3

Tav has learned that her fiance, Gale, likes to take things slowly when sharing pleasure. He claims he's only being gentlemanly, but she knows he just enjoys teasing her. This makes it all the more exciting when his own restraint finally snaps.

Inspired by this post by the lovely @waterdeep-weavemoss

Tav tried to be as quiet as she could while descending the stairs heading to the study. It was late enough that no one else should be awake, not even the staff, but one couldn't be too careful. She thought back to the note Gale had slipped her earlier, which she'd hidden away amongst her things.

“My heart, I long for your touch. I will be in the study once everyone else is asleep. I hope you will join me.”

Her heart pounded. Gale put up an excellent front, acting the perfect gentleman when necessary, but she knew first-hand there was a passion simmering just below that composed surface. Even the first time they had kissed, he had shown such intensity. The way he had pulled her close, the small sounds he had made, the desire behind every movement of his lips and tongue against hers, it had stolen her breath away and left her aching for more. More which he had soon given.

She bit her lip, remembering the night when they managed to sneak away from a ball for a full hour, before they were even engaged. He had led her into a library, kissed her breathless, and brought her to completion with his fingers, muffling her sounds of pleasure with his mouth. Despite the rushed nature of the meeting, he had been so careful and methodical with her, like she was the only thing in the world he cared about in that moment. That feeling combined with the pleasure he'd given her was intoxicating, and it was that memory and the hope for more which drew her to the bottom of the stairs and down the corridor to the door of his study. She opened it slowly, relieved that the hinges didn't squeak, and peeked in. No lamps or candles were lit, but the curtains for the large window on the other side of the room were open, letting in ample moonlight.

“Hello?” she whispered. Upon getting no reply she entered entirely, carefully closing the door behind her. Was she too early? Or worse, too late? She looked around for a moment, trying not to fret, when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and yelped, but another warm hand quickly covered her mouth, muffling the sound.

“Shh, it's only me, my love,” assured a rich voice in her ear. Instantly she relaxed, turning around to face him.

“Don't startle me like that!” she whispered furiously, swatting at his shoulder. Gale only chuckled.

“My apologies,” he murmured. He looked at her for a long moment, the heat in his eyes holding her in place. “I'm glad you came to join me,” he finally said.

“As though I would turn down such an invitation from my betrothed,” she replied mischievously. “Especially when he's as enticing as you are.” She looked him up and down, pulse quickening at the sight. He was down to his trousers and shirt, the latter open and giving a tantalizing glimpse of his chest, bronze skin and dark hair peeking out teasingly.

“Me, enticing?” he asked, breaking her from her reverie. “Have you looked at yourself this evening?” He brought up one hand, running it through her hair. She was still dressed, but she had taken her hair down, and it fell past her shoulders in loose, dark ringlets. “You are stunning. Utterly irresistible.”

He curled his other index finger under her chin and pulled her into a kiss. Tav melted into it, into the feeling of his mouth against hers, the warmth as she pressed herself closer to his body. They were both breathing harder when they finally parted.

“So, Mr. Dekarios, what exactly did you intend, calling me down to meet you at such an hour? And unchaperoned, no less?” she asked teasingly.

While one of his hands was still buried in her hair, the other moved down to grip her hip, holding her close. Her own hands rested on his broad shoulders, one of them toying with his tied back hair which she longed to see let down.

He grinned in return. “I told you in my note, did I not? I long for you.”

Tav raised a brow. “That's not terribly specific.”

Gale chuckled again. “I know it will only be a month and a fortnight before we are wed,” he relented, “but every time I'm with you I am nearly overcome with desire. I was hoping you might allow me to slake my thirst, and provide a small taste of things to come.”

“Oh? And how do you propose to do that?”

“By drinking from the finest font in all of creation,” he replied. His grip on her hip tightened and he pulled her fully flush against him, leaning to whisper in her ear. “I wish to taste you, my sweet Tavrielle. I've shown you what I can do with just my fingers, now allow me to demonstrate how skilled I am with my tongue.”

Tav gasped, her fingers tightening on his shoulders. Neither of them were completely inexperienced, she knew. Gale's reputation as a former favorite of Lady Mystra's had preceded him, and Tav herself had partaken in a couple subtler and shorter-lived trysts, but no one had ever used their mouth on her before. She felt herself flush at the thought.

“Is that something you would like, dearest?” he asked, his breath against her skin making her shiver.

“Yes,” she sighed in reply. Gale’s grin was wolfish when he pulled away.

“Have a seat then, my darling,” he said, gesturing to a plush-looking armchair in the nearest corner of the room. Tav went and sat down, and Gale knelt in front of her, looking up at her with an expression so full of desire and wonder that it nearly made her dizzy. He pulled one of her feet into his lap and gently pulled off her shoe, placing it to the side. He then ran his hands up her leg to her knee and untied the garter holding up her stocking, slowly pulling them down and off. He folded them and placed them next to her shoe before switching to her other leg and following the same procedure. That done, he gently massaged her ankle, then her calf. He leaned in and kissed her knee over her skirt and looked up at her for approval. Tav took a shuddering breath and nodded. He started to pull up her skirt and petticoat, but a thought suddenly struck her.

“Wait,” she said quietly. Gale stopped immediately, looking up at her again.

“What is it, my love?”

Tav leaned down slightly and reached behind his head, pulling lightly on his ponytail.

“Might I untie this? I would so dearly like to see it down.”

Gale's slight concern melted into a smile. “Of course. Though if you do, you'll need to hold my hair out of the way yourself for the next part.”

Tav swallowed. “I'd be happy to.” She removed the tie from his hair with a short tug, enjoying the way the waves fanned out behind him. “You're so lovely,” she breathed, running her fingers through the soft strands. Gale leaned into the touch, closing his eyes briefly in a way that reminded her of nothing so much as a cat.

“Not half so lovely as you,” he countered, opening his eyes again. “Speaking of, may I?” He pulled lightly at her skirt.

“Please,” she breathed.

Gale smirked and moved his focus back to her skirt and petticoat, which he started slowly pushing up her legs together. Once they were pooled in her lap, not quite revealing her, he paused and began kissing along one calf, her knee, and halfway up her thigh. Tav resisted the noises trying to rise in her throat, what might have been moans coming out as quiet whimpers and panted breaths. When he switched to the other leg, she began to grow impatient.

“Gale,” she whined. “Please.”

Gale pressed a gentling kiss to her knee. “Patience, lovely. We have plenty of time before anyone else is awake. Let me savour you.”

With that he went back to his leisurely exploration, gradually kissing - and occasionally nipping - higher and higher up her legs. She spread them wider, making room for his shoulders, but this allowed her skirts to fall down between them, keeping her covered despite Gale pushing them further up. Finally they were hitched all the way up to her hips, a small pool of fabric settled between her legs. Gale placed his hand on the fabric, shooting one last heated look up at her before moving it aside and revealing her to him.

Tav might have felt self-conscious about the way he stared if his expression hadn't been one of a starving man presented with the most sumptuous meal of his life. He reached up and caressed one side lightly with a thumb, then moved the digit further, dipping it into the moisture that had been pooling since the start of his teasing. Tav held her breath as he used that thumb to hold her open while he finally leaned in and firmly licked over her center. Tav whimpered at the sensation, and had to cover her own mouth with her hand to muffle herself when Gale moaned at the taste of her. He licked again, this time ending with a flick of his tongue against the little bundle of nerves that set her aflame before pulling away slightly.

“Jove himself could not conceive of nectar sweet as this,” he murmured, almost seemingly to himself. Then suddenly he was pulling her legs up, hooking her knees over his shoulders before diving in properly.

Tav tried to squirm under him, but his fingers dug greedily into the plushness of her thighs, holding her firmly in place. One of her hands remained in his hair, gripping and holding it back from his face. The other remained resolutely over her mouth, muffling the sounds of her pleasure as Gale devoured her. He hadn't been lying about being skilled with his tongue. Every movement sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through her. The way he alternated between thrusting it into her, licking deep while his nose rubbed against her deliciously, and flicking it against that sensitive bud while he sucked on it, made Tav want to scream. A feeling not helped by the way he kept moaning himself, as though she was the finest wine he'd ever tasted. The vibrations rumbled through her, amplifying her pleasure. She knew she wouldn't last long like this.

Sure enough, within a few minutes she felt the telltale pressure building. Her hand tightened in his hair and, despite her best efforts, her sounds grew louder.

“Gale,” she panted. “Gale I- I'm close. So close I- ah!”

Gale increased his efforts at her words, his tongue moving more quickly, pressing more insistently. He moved his tongue in a toe-curling wave inside her, his nose rubbing perfectly against that sensitive point. She fluttered around him, right on the precipice. He moaned at the feeling, and that was enough for her to let go, choking back her own moans as she arched against his mouth, riding out her pleasure on his tongue. She shuddered as she came down, his continued movements too much for her oversensitive flesh, so she pulled him away by his hair. He rested his head on her thigh, looking up at her, face covered with her slick, grinning like a cat who'd just feasted on the richest cream. He stroked her thighs soothingly, pressing kisses into them as she recovered.

“You enjoyed yourself, I hope?” he asked with a cocky smile. She'd be annoyed by how smug he looked if that smugness wasn't so justified.

“You are far too good at that,” she panted.

“Nothing I do could ever be too good for you, my heart.”

“You're also far too charming for either of our own good,” she replied with a small laugh. “Come up here?”

Gale moved to give her room and she stood, her skirts falling back down. As she attempted to straighten herself out a bit and pull her stockings and shoes back on, Gale pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the worst of the mess from his face. He settled in the chair in Tav's place and pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling into her neck. Tav turned his face with a hand, pulling him into a kiss and moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue.

“You're incredible,” she murmured once she pulled away.

“I was about to say the same to you,” he replied.

“I was wondering,” Tav said, running her other hand slowly up his thigh. “Might you permit me to return the favour?” She could feel the eager press of him against her thigh, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, knowing how much he had enjoyed feasting on her.

His hand landed on hers, gently pausing its movement.

“You don't have to,” he replied. “I asked to taste you as much for my own gratification as yours. You do not owe me anything in return.”

“And if I want to do it?” she asked, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Have you considered that I may enjoy the idea of bringing you pleasure, just as you do with me? That I may find my own pleasure in doing so?”

“I...” Gale licked his lips. “I simply don't want you to feel obligated.”

“I don't,” Tav replied simply. “The only thing I feel is desire.” She shifted, letting her thigh press more firmly against his harness, and she relished the gasp it drew from him and the way his hands tightened on her.

“Tavrielle,” he rasped.

Tav leaned in, letting her lips brush his ear.

“You aren’t the only one with a thirst to be slaked,” she whispered.

Gale groaned deep in his throat, letting his head fall briefly to her shoulder. He pressed a kiss there, nipping lightly before meeting her eyes once more.

“If this is truly what you wish, then who am I to deny you?”

Tav grinned. “Precisely.”

She let herself slide off his lap, settling on her knees on the floor in front of him. Her hands went straight to the buttons for the fall of his trousers, and she enjoyed the shuddering breath he took when she pulled it down and parted his drawers, freeing him. She licked her lips at the sight. He was already fully erect, jutting up eagerly from his lap. He wasn’t egregiously large, but he was by no means small either, and she pressed her legs together at the thought that she would be taking him properly in the near future. She wrapped a hand around him, pumping softly a couple of times and enjoying the silken hardness of him. She looked up to his face and found him flushed and panting already, one hand tightly gripping the arm of the chair, the other curled into a fist and pressed to his mouth, muffling him. Smirking, she held eye contact as she leaned in and licked up from the base to the head, and Gale let out a whine as his eyes fluttered momentarily closed. Slowly, Tav pressed her lips to the tip and leaned forward, letting his cock slide into her mouth as far as she could, and making up the rest of the distance with her hand.

“Tavrielle,” Gale panted. “Tav...”

Tav hummed around him in acknowledgement, making him shudder beneath her. She reached a hand up towards his where it still gripped the arm of the chair. She took it gently, guiding it instead to tangle in her hair. Gale hesitated briefly, but acquiesced to her silent request, slipping his fingers into the strands and gripping, pulling slightly and making her moan. Still aware of the risk of getting caught, low as it might be, Tav quickly began moving, sliding her mouth over him. She tried out different movements of her tongue to see what got the best reactions out of him, quietly humming and moaning around him and loving the way it made him twitch beneath her, clearly trying to keep himself from bucking up into her mouth. She moved her hand in time with her mouth, the other gripping and kneading at his hip. With all of this, it didn’t take long for him to begin tensing beneath her, his sounds of pleasure growing harder to muffle.

“Tav,” he gasped, “I’m- ah! I’m close to... Please I- how do you want me to...?” He looked down at her, eyes wide and pupils blown, face flushed and brows drawn in pleasure. Tav enjoyed the sight for a moment before letting him slip from her mouth.

“I told you before, did I not? I wish for you to sate my thirst as well.” With that she took him in again, grinning around him at his answering whimper. A few more pumps and clever flicks of her tongue and he was finishing in her mouth with a high, muffled sound, gripping her hair and twitching beneath her as she eagerly swallowed his release. She gentled the movements of her mouth, though kept him held there as he recovered until he pulled her off and back up into his lap, kissing her breathlessly.

“You are a wonder,” he panted between kisses. “Incredible. Perfection itself. I am the luckiest man in the world to have you as my betrothed.”

Tav laughed breathlessly against his lips, flustered and blushing at the praise.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said once he finally pulled away.

“Enjoyed in an understatement,” he replied earnestly, now nuzzling into her neck. They stayed like that for a few long minutes, enjoying the warmth and closeness, until eventually Gale sighed.

“I long to be able to hold you like this as we drift to sleep,” he said quietly. “I know the day will come soon, but it does not feel soon enough.”

Tav ran her fingers through his hair soothingly, scratching lightly over his scalp.

“But soon nonetheless,” she soothed. “And the wait will only make it feel all the sweeter, when the time does come.”

Gale sighed beneath her again. “I suppose you’re right. But until then, I’m afraid we should retire back to our rooms before anyone else wakes.” He held her more tightly for a moment before pulling back to allow her up. Tav sighed in return, knowing he was correct, but loath to leave the comfort of his embrace. Nevertheless she rose from his lap, checking her skirt to make sure it hadn’t been stained with any signs of their meeting. Gale, meanwhile, refastened his fall and stood. They stared at each other longingly for a moment before moving in for a lingering kiss.

“Mayhaps next time we can find a way to actually meet in a room with a bed,” she proposed mischievously. Gale chuckled darkly.

“A dangerous proposition, but a very tempting one. I long to spend an entire evening and night in bed with you.”

“Then I suppose we must find a way to make such a thing happen. Though for now, I fear we really should return to our rooms.” She leaned up and pressed one last gentle kiss to his lips. “Goodnight, Gale,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, my beloved,” he replied, gazing after her longingly as she quietly exited the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time they found themselves alone together, they had planned it out more thoroughly, to hopefully have several hours alone together and the ability to meet in an actual bedroom. The others were all gone to a ball and not expected home until quite late. Gale pretended that some urgent business matter had come up which he regrettably needed to attend to, away at his office, and Tav had claimed to have a terrible headache which required her to pass up the ball in favor of some rest. She had insisted, however, that the others all still go. She would be sleeping, after all, and she didn't want anyone missing out on an evening of fun to watch her do so. Gale had even given Tara the night off, insisting that as everyone would be gone until late anyway, they had little need of her that evening.

Gale went out to supposedly ready a horse while everyone else left, and once they were gone he went straight back inside and up to the room Tav was staying in. He found her in front of the mirror, pulling the pins from her hair. She watched him in the mirror as he locked the door and walked up behind her.

“I had rather hoped to help you with this,” he said, reaching up to pull another pin out and setting it on the vanity table in front of her.

“My apologies. If I had known, I would have waited for you.”

They worked together quietly, the anticipation palpable, and soon Tav’s hair was down. Gale slid a hand into it and leaned down, nuzzling into her neck and making her shiver pleasantly. He moved out of the way as she stood, turning around to face him. A single step and they met in a heated kiss. Tav was eager, pressing into Gale and nipping at his bottom lip, but Gale was unhurried, keeping their pace slow and leisurely. He said nothing as Tav reached up to untie his cravat, but he chuckled as she started undoing the buttons of his coat.

“Eager, are we?”

“Are you not?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. Gale grinned in return.

“Oh, I am. But that does not mean we must rush, does it?” He pushed gently yet firmly, urging her to sit back down. Once she did, he knelt in front of her and began as he had at their previous meeting, carefully removing her shoes and stockings and setting them aside. Tav was hopeful that he would follow this up by attending to her with his mouth, but instead he stood, helping her back to standing as well.

“Turn around for me, please?”

Tav did so, and felt him undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. Once that was done, he helped her to step out of it and carefully placed it aside. Next were her stays, which he attended to with equal care. He pressed soft, almost chaste kisses to her shoulders as he carefully loosened the ties, until eventually this too was able to be removed. Before he could continue, however, Tav spun in his arms and pulled him in for a kiss. The anticipation was unbearable — she needed him to touch her. Needed to touch him. To see and feel and taste.

“Please,” she sighed, pulling away slightly. “I want you so badly. Please, let me-”

Her hands moved towards his trousers, but he caught them in his own, pulling them up to place kisses to her knuckles. Gentle as the action was, his hold on her was firm, and his lips slid into a smirk that only fueled the flames inside her. A smirk which completely betrayed the false innocence in his voice when he spoke.

“Patience, my love. I only wish to treat you with the proper care and attention. Too much haste would be untoward, do you not agree? If we are to anticipate our vows, I must insist on doing so in the most gentlemanly manner possible, with only the utmost conscientiousness. So, gentleman that I am...” He leaned in, still holding her hands between them, his lips brushing her ear. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

Tav couldn’t help but whimper at that, and she could feel Gale’s answering grin against her, followed by a kiss to her cheekbone.

“You may undress me,” he continued, voice heated yet steady, like coals waiting to be stoked into flame. “However, I ask that you go slowly. Gratifying as your excitement is, we have several hours to ourselves, yet. We can afford to savour this.”

Tav nodded and took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself. Gale pulled back, his warm eyes dark with desire and sparkling with mischief.

“Can you do that for me, my dearest?”

“Yes,” Tav breathed.

“Very good.” Gale kissed her knuckles again, then let her hands go.

Tav began with his coat. Having already undone the buttons, she simply slid it off and placed it on a nearby chair. His waistcoat was next. Her progress was slow, both because of his order, and because the urgency of her arousal was making her fingers clumsy. Soon enough that too was gone, laid aside with the coat. She walked over to the bed, looking back at him.

“Sit for me, please?”

“Of course.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, and Tav knelt in front of him to take off his boots. As she did, she felt one of his hands slide through her hair, lightly scratching her scalp.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he murmured softly. Tav swallowed and, unable to find her voice, kissed his knee in response.

Boots, then stockings and garters were set aside. Tav stood and reached for his shirt questioningly. He nodded. The linen was pulled out from where it was tucked in, and dropped aside. Tav took a long moment to admire him. Fit, yet pleasantly soft. Olive-skinned, with a delightful sweep of hair over his chest that she ached to run her fingers through. Pulling her focus back to the task at hand, she reached for his trousers, only for Gale to catch her hands once more.

“Ah- not quite yet, my love. May I?” He held both her hands in one of his, using the other to tug lightly at her slip.

“Please,” she said, unabashed in her eagerness.

Gale grinned, that wolfish smile that never failed to send a rush of moisture between her legs. He lifted the bottom hem, letting Tav pull it up and off the rest of the way, leaving her completely bare. Immediately his hands were on her, caressing from her hip, over her waist, up to her ribs and back down again as he stared at her with a heady mix of wonder and hunger.

“You are stunning,” he said quietly. “A greater masterpiece than any painter or sculptor could ever hope to create.”

Tav placed a hand over one of his and slowly drew it up to cup her breast. Gale licked his lips and squeezed lightly, enjoying the softness and weight of it. His other hand slid around her back and pulled her closer, letting him bury his face in her chest. Tav let out a quiet, pleased noise, her hand going to Gale’s hair and pulling it loose before burying her fingers in it, holding him close. Gale turned his head and began working his way across one curve with sucking, nipping kisses, eventually finding a nipple and wrapping his lips around it. Tav started to moan, but quickly brought a hand over her mouth, suddenly remembering that there was still staff in the house, and they still needed to try to avoid being overheard. Gale clearly was not concerned with making this easy for her, sucking one nipple while using his fingers to pinch at the other, leaving Tav to catch her whimpers with her hand. She leaned her hips forward, aching for contact, and found her thigh brushing against Gale’s hardness. He groaned into her chest and shifted forward, rubbing more firmly against her thigh and letting her feel plainly just how excited he truly was.

With a final nip to her breast he pulled his mouth away and pushed her back slightly, giving himself room to stand. He was flushed down to his chest and his breathing came heavily as he looked into her eyes. Tav placed her hands on his chest and slowly ran them down his body, one settling on his waist while the other continued down to cup him through his trousers, squeezing lightly and making him groan.

“May I?” she asked, voice no more than a breathy whisper. Gale looked at her for a long moment before finally saying the words she was aching to hear.

“You may.”

Buttons and ties were undone, fabric discarded, and finally he was bare before her. She had seen his member before of course, but seeing his body in its entirety took her breath away. She was sure her expression must mirror the one he’d had only minutes ago when her slip was removed.

Tav leaned in and Gale caught her by the waist, turning them around and laying her down on the bed, climbing up himself to lay over her.

“My beautiful Tavrielle,” he sighed, gently stroking her cheek. “I’ve been dreaming of your taste since the other night. Would you allow me to indulge once again?”

“Please,” she replied emphatically.

He kissed his way down her body while she tried not to squirm, and they moaned in unison when his mouth finally reached its destination. It was somehow even better than she remembered, the tension from his teasing slowness heightening the intensity of every sensation. She quickly cupped a hand back over her mouth to muffle the cries which came unbidden from her throat as he lapped at her eagerly.

“I cannot wait for the day when you need not muffle yourself, and I can fully enjoy the beautiful sounds you make for me,” Gale murmured against her before diving back in. His words drove her higher, closer to the precipice, and she knew she wasn’t going to last long like this. She fluttered against his mouth and he moaned, the vibrations rushing through her. He ran two fingers teasingly through her folds before sliding them into her easily. His lips latched around her sensitive pearl while his fingers curled inside her, rubbing against just the right spot, and all too soon she was shuddering apart, hips twitching up to chase the glorious pleasure of his mouth.

He finally relented once she started shuddering with the residual waves, and moved back up to lay over her once more. He kissed her deeply, the taste of her arousal lingering on his lips and tongue. He moved, and his cock slid through her slick, oversensitive folds, causing them both to moan. They broke apart, and it was clear from the expression on his face that the will to continue teasing her had fully faded.

“I need you,” he rasped. “My darling Tav, I need you. May I?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Tav reached down and took hold of him, causing him to gasp. She positioned him at her entrance, and he leaned in for another kiss at the same time he pressed his hips forward, finally sheathing himself inside her. Their mouths parted again as they moaned, the sensation overwhelming.

“Oh Tav...”

“Gale, please move, I need-”

He heeded her request immediately, pulling back before pressing back in, grunting in pleased surprise when she suddenly snapped her hips up to meet his thrust, quickly burying him to the hilt. Their movements sped quickly, all trace of patience gone as they finally lost themselves in each other. They did their best to stifle their sounds of pleasure, and soon found that the best way to do so was simply to keep their mouths otherwise occupied, kissing over each other’s mouths and faces and necks and shoulders. Their pace was quick, Gale’s movements firm, though not rough. Tav luxuriated in the sensations, his warmth above her, the way his soft hair curtained their faces, the firm grip of his hands holding her steady for him, and of course, the waves of pleasure that flooded her with every thrust of his hips as he filled her perfectly again and again. By the time she felt him start to tense and his movements grow less steady, she was nearing the peak again herself. Gale groaned lowly as he took a moment to grind into her deeply.

“My love, will you let go for me again? I want so dearly to feel you.”

“Yes,” Tav gasped. “Close. So close. A bit more...” She started sliding a hand between them, down towards where they were connected, but Gale took hold of it, pressing it to the pillow by her head with their fingers wound together while his other hand took up the path instead. His skilled fingers worked her quickly, rubbing in small circles that had her racing towards the edge.

“That’s it,” he moaned as she tightened around him. “That’s it, my love. You feel incredible. Let go for me.”

His voice, rough with exertion and passion, pulled her over. His lips captured hers just in time to muffle her cry, and his as well as he tumbled after her, hips jerking as pleasure overtook them both.

All too soon, Gale rolled off of her, lying beside her while they both caught their breath. Their fingers remained laced together between them, a warm point of connection. Gale squeezed her hand, and Tav returned the gesture, turning to smile at him. She found him smiling back at her dreamily.

“Well worth a bit of subterfuge, I think,” she said.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He turned onto his side, leaning in to kiss her once again. It was warm and languid, though it grew gradually more heated as they went. Tav’s eyes were sparkling when they finally broke for air.

“How much longer do you think we have before the others return?” she asked, moving closer to press her body against his. Gale grinned.

“Oh, enough for one more round, at least.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite her previous exhaustion from the day’s festivities, Tav was practically buzzing with energy as she and Gale retired to his room. The wedding had been lovely, of course, as had the revelry after, but she was more than ready to be alone with her new husband. This would not be the first intimacy they'd shared — indeed, they had been quite insatiable over the past month or so — but it would be the first time they would be able to enjoy such intimacy without having to sneak away somewhere and keep quiet, lest someone find them out. The secrecy and clandestine meetings had their own thrill, of course, but she had longed to be able to devote herself fully to enjoying him, without having to keep an ear and eye out for unexpected company. Gale had kissed her fiercely the moment the carriage door had been closed behind them, hands roaming over her body as he held her close, and ever since she had been mentally preparing herself for whatever sweet torture he had in store for her.

True to the first time they had shared such pleasures, Gale had always been almost painfully slow and deliberate in his treatment of her, dragging their encounters out as long as possible despite the risk of potentially getting caught. He tried to play innocent, hiding behind the excuse of manners and gentlemanly behavior, but she was certain that he simply enjoyed teasing her. Thus, this being their wedding night, she expected even more teasing than usual. “I want this to be special,” he would say as he slowly drove her to madness, not touching her where she wanted until she begged him for it.

What she did not expect was for him to spin them around as soon as the bedroom door was closed and pin her to it with his body, kissing the air from her lungs as he ground his hips against hers. She gasped into his mouth, clutching at his jacket, caught off-guard by his sudden onslaught. She was finally able to catch her breath once his mouth left hers, moving instead to kiss and bite down her neck to her chest where it heaved at her neckline.

“This is unexpected,” she panted.

“Is it?” Gale asked, sounding genuinely confused, though he continued to mouth his way over her breasts. “It is hardly unusual, I think, for a man to desire his new bride on their wedding night.” His hands snaked around behind her, his fingers starting to work at the buttons on the back of her bodice.

Tav laughed breathlessly. “No, not that. You’re just usually much more, mmm... methodical than this. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

Gale pulled back to look at her, then, and the fire in his deep brown eyes made her knees weak.

“I have the rest of our lives to take my time with you,” he panted. “But I have been waiting all day for this, and I need you now.” He’d gotten the first two buttons undone, but was fumbling a bit with the third, and he growled in frustration.

“How fond are you of this dress?” he asked, sounding impatient.

“Rather,” Tav said warily. “It was purchased specifically for our wedding. Why?”

“Then I’ll have it repaired for you,” he replied before firmly gripping the partially opened back and pulling hard at both sides. Tav gasped at the sound of buttons hitting the floor. A gasp which turned into a moan as Gale claimed her mouth again, simultaneously yanking down the front of her gown, the sleeves sliding down her arms. He pushed it down far enough to slide a hand down the back and pull roughly at the ties of her stays, untying and pulling them loose before sliding that down as well. That done, he yanked down the front of her slip and found his prize, his lips latching victoriously onto one of her nipples.

Tav cried out, leaning into the sensation, and groaning at the feeling of Gale’s erection rubbing against her hip. He didn’t pull his mouth away as he guided them both backwards towards the bed, spinning them again at the last second to push her onto it. She attempted to raise herself with her arms, but found the busk of her stays stopped her, sitting low as it was now from when Gale had pulled them down. Gale quickly undid the fall of his breeches and freed himself, his eagerness showing in the drops of moisture beading at the head of his cock. He shoved her skirts up over her hips and reached down with one hand, pressing his fingers to her entrance. He groaned at the wetness he found there, so plentiful that it was smeared over her thighs as well.

“I love how eager you are for me,” he breathed, bringing the fingers to his mouth to suck them clean before positioning himself and rubbing his tip through her slick folds.

“Please Gale,” she begged, canting her hips up towards him. Gale growled again, grabbing her hips hard.

“As the lady wishes,” he rumbled.

He entered her with a single firm roll of his hips, both of them moaning as he slid in all the way to the hilt. They paused for a moment, breathing heavily, reveling in the connection, before Gale began to pull out before thrusting back in roughly. He set a punishing pace, leaving Tav to writhe beneath him, nearly pinned as she was, clutching desperately at the bedding and crying out her pleasure. He’d never been this rough with her before, this wild, and she was loving every moment of it. The way he fucked into her with abandon, grasping hard enough at her hips that she wondered if it might leave bruises, it was overwhelming in the best way.

Gale let himself fall forward onto his arms, caging her beneath him. His mouth returned to her neck and breasts, and one of her hands moved to pull his hair out of its tie and tangle in it. She tugged, and his answering moan tingled deliciously against her skin.

“Gale,” she whined, clutching at his back, fingers digging into the fabric.

“Tav,” he groaned in response, nipping at her shoulder. “My lovely Tav.” He leaned up, bringing his mouth next to her ear. “My beautiful, breathtaking Mrs. Dekarios.”

Tav gasped at that, the words sending a new wave of heat rushing through her, straight down to her core. She felt Gale grin against her.

“Do you like it when I call you that, Mrs. Dekarios?”

Beyond words at this point, Tav could only nod, whimpering her assent.

“I’m glad,” Gale panted in her ear. “Because I very much enjoy saying it.”

He kept moving, his pace not wavering, cries falling from Tav’s lips at the relentless onslaught of pleasure.

“That’s it,” Gale groaned. “Let me hear you. You sing so beautifully for me. A melody for my ears alone. I’ve been waiting for this all day. You’ve never looked so radiant as you did, smiling at me at the altar. The first time I called you Mrs. Dekarios I feared I might embarrass myself, so intense was the feeling it brought.” He interrupted his rhythm briefly to give a particularly hard grind, as if for emphasis, pulling another long moan from Tav’s throat. “It took all of my will to wait until we were here, rather than simply taking you in the carriage.”

Tav gasped, the mental image making her clench around him. Gale grunted at the feeling. His speed remained steady, but he grew more forceful, the sounds of slick skin hitting slick skin filling the room. Short, sharp cries left Tav’s lips with every thrust, and Gale’s verbal stream of poetic filth and praise gave way to wordless moans, their voices rising in a symphony of shared pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for Tav to feel herself nearing the edge, her whole body pulled taught like a thread ready to snap.

“Gale,” she gasped. “Gale, so close. Please I- I need-”

She broke off with a moan as Gale immediately brought one hand down to rub her in exactly the way she needed. No more than a minute later she was sobbing his name, a powerful climax overtaking her. Gale followed quickly, grinding deep as his seed filled her, a choked moan tumbling from his lips.

They stayed there for a long moment, catching their breath and letting the stars fade from their eyes. Finally, Gale propped himself up to look at her, bringing one hand up to gently stroke Tav’s cheek. She smiled at him, soft and sated.

“My love...” he murmured, his quiet, enamored tone such a contrast to his roughness only minutes before. “My beautiful wife.”

“My darling husband,” she replied, smiling more broadly at the way he lit up at the words.

“That wasn't too rough, I hope,” he said earnestly. “I've been struggling all day to keep my hands off of you. Once we were finally alone I'm afraid I couldn't help myself.”

“Not at all,” Tav assured him. “In fact,” she continued, lips curving into a mischievous smirk, “as long as you have them repaired after, I wouldn’t object to you tearing open my dresses like that more often.”

Gale laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Speaking of, how about I help you out of these clothes properly?”

“Mmm, yes please.”

Soon they were both undressed, holding each other close in the bed, enjoying the knowledge that this would only be the first of many nights spent this way.

“My dearest Tav,” Gale sighed as he stroked her back, his brown eyes warm and adoring as they stared into hers. “I am the luckiest man in the world to be here with you. I love you more than words could ever possibly say.”

Tav kissed him, slow and heated. “How fortunate then, that you have more at your disposal than words to express it.” She rested her forehead against his, their noses brushing, her breath ghosting over his lips as she spoke. “Don't just tell me, my love. Show me.”

[karlachismylife]

I'm trying to catch up on the gazprice prompts, but in the middle of it was struck by something I just need to put out in the world.

Soap puts his everything into kissing. Something inside him - must be the overwhelming volume of his feelings - protests every time he sets out to give a short peck or a modest, sweet and calm kiss. It feels simultaneously like drowning and dying of thirst, the lack of depth and closeness worse than being deprived of touch completely: before, when he was forced to keep his hands and mouth to himself because reaching out to Karlach would only turn him into blistering coal, he could shut the steel floodgate on his passion completely, his mind focused on the mission and stoic, even if he kept stoking the fire between them by letting long rants of desire roll down his tongue, words raspy and heavy with accent as he would describe ways he longed to touch her staring into her tiger eyes with his deep blues. Karlach practiced restraint for the both of them, breathing in and out instead of blurting out what she wanted in response, the heat of her engine revealing it all wordlessly by absorbing the deep sea blue into its flames and flaring up so that Johnny's face turned into a sharp graphite drawing of dark coal shadows and sweaty glint of highlights.

There is no practicing restraint once she's cooled down enough for him to touch. Soap pushes himself from under the waves and rides them, guiding the force that his raging want is, to collapse onto the tiefling. His kisses are hungry - starving - and desperate. Staring at Karlach's rich crimson lips, he pulls her in by her broad waist and doesn't waste time waiting before joining their mouths together. She's all fire and clove ash, but he drinks her like sand drinks the waves, greedily, opening his mouth wide to grasp all that is Karlach with soft wet lips. His stubble scratches her skin slightly, desperation leaves even the scar on his chin wet with the messy, sloppy kisses.

Karlach takes this wave on her chest, feet planted firmly on the ground to keep her steady even as Soap starts beding her backwards while grasping onto her wide back, seeking bare red skin with protruding scars instead of smooth leather of her clothing. She holds onto his neck, clawed hand firmly digging into his fluffy mohawk - not to pull him away, only to keep him from breaking away, her tail finds purchase on his leg, wrapping under his knee in several rounds to make sure Johnny doesn't disappear.

It doesn't always lead to sex - they kiss each other like it's their last time regardless of what comes next. Soap just isn't capable of holding back, and Karlach, still relearning loving touch and closeness, loses her hesitation when met with such concentrated adoration. Whenever she opens her burning eyes to sneak a peek through fluttering eyelashes mid-kiss, she sees Johnny's eyes closed shut, eyebrows either raised pleadingly or furrowed in an attempt to keep himself from exploding with the love condensed in his chest - no less dangerous that Karlach's engine or Gale's orb. He always leans in, smushes her wide nose against his, breathes heavily and unevenly, refusing to let go until they both get so dizzy that they nearly tip over. His tongue tingles until numbness from the foreign feeling of the tiefling's mouth, his cheeks burn from the heat within and her face, and it never is enough to satisfy the sucking feeling in his throat that demands not for air or water but for love that comes in the spicy mix of their saliva he swallows between deepening the kisses again. Karlach feels it under her thumb pressed into the soft tan skin of his neck, something throbbing behind Johnny's quickened pulse, and tries to soothe it by pulling him even closer into her burly body and taking his tongue deeper despite the invisible flush it sends to her cheeks. There isn't a world she doesn't reciprocate his passion, there isn't a time she doesn't want to put her fire under his tide.

Soap puts his everything into kissing, and Karlach returns it all.

[floweryanarchy]

Poor Astarion, I can't help but imagine his first meal with the others where he just stares at his own full bowl for a long while, something he has probably never seen or seen very rarely given the whole Cazador situation, and eating it all as if afraid the others might take it from him but since he's not used to eating this much all in one sitting he gets sick later and it all comes back up, probably when no one can see him be sick since I doubt he'd want to be seen being 'weak', at least at the start when no one of them truly trusts each other

And of course the others wouldn't even think of denying Astarion food, but I can't help remembering of that one in-game line about Cazador asking Astarion if he wanted to eat with him whenever Astarion would bring back a new victim and if he said yes he'd get a measly rat while Cazador got to enjoy an entire person right in front of him so I can imagine in this AU him doing something similar and having Astarion and his 'siblings' see him eat full meals while they have next to nothing (also with the way they have been treated and 'raised' and pitted against each other they probably used to steal each other's food so he's wary and on edge whenever he eats with the others for a long while until he eventually realizes that no, they're not gonna deny him food or steal it from him for some sick pleasure of theirs)

Anon…you have a beautiful brain this is so accurate..

I totally agree he’d probably practically yank the bowl from Gales hands once he’s offered food that first night and just looks at the amount with disbelief, then eats it way too quickly that his stomach promptly rejects it. It takes a WHILE for his stomach to adjust ingesting such hearty food with actual nutritional sustenance. After that, Astarion takes his meals to his tent away from the others because in his head if he’s away from the group then there’s no risk of his food being taken away. (A lil nod to Astarion going out and feeding on animals at night away from the party.)

As for Cazador, that line about him inviting Astarion to dine with him was an excellent detail!! Instead of “victims” he’d do this when one of the spawn secure a new returning client that will now frequent the parlor house. Cazador would eat a full feast and the spawn would be given a small chunk of stale bread and like a bite of way too dry jerky. They’d have to sit and smell the rich food Cazadors eating while they’re given next to nothing.

Thank you for putting this in my ask box, it’s got the wheels turning in my head again.