#jaheira x reader

[moonselune]

hellooo!! I have a kinda odd req hehe

could you write for the female companions reacting to finding bard tav secretely training their fighting skills?

like, tav went out to the far edge of the clearing for some reason, and the ladies followed because like why not, lets go check if tavs doing good

they find tav singing, which like, pfft, obviously, but then in the middle of it, they just pull out whole fucking fighting techniques, obliterating a dummy they had like .. stole borrowed from Laez'el, while still humming their little tune during kicks and slaps as if it was the most normal shit ever

could u incorporate some kinda jiu-jitsu in there?? I adore the grace that comes with it, and feel as though it would be suit for an elegant (not) singer such as tav 💫

i know this is kinda weird i just adore the 'uninnocent innocent being' trope. (　・ω・)

not weird at all I love this trope too! Thanks for the request xox

Karlach:

The late afternoon sun was casting long, golden rays over the grove as Karlach wandered back to camp, her infernal engine thrumming softly in her chest. She hadn’t meant to follow you. Not exactly. It was just that you’d taken Lae’zel’s battered training dummy—something she’d been in the middle of repairing—and disappeared into the woods. That was strange enough, but Karlach had felt a familiar pull of curiosity mixed with concern. What were you up to out there?

Now, crouched behind a large oak tree, Karlach peeked around the trunk and found you standing at the edge of the clearing. A soft tune drifted through the air, your voice carrying the melody like a warm breeze.

"Oh, Y/N," she whispered aloud. "Singing to the dummy, huh? Classic you."

You swayed slightly with the rhythm of your song, your movements so fluid and natural they almost looked like a dance. But then, without warning, you stopped mid-verse. You reached out, gripping the dummy��s shoulder—and in the blink of an eye, flipped it over your hip.

Karlach’s jaw dropped.

You didn’t stop there. Before the dummy even hit the ground, you shifted your stance, your body moving with the kind of practiced grace she’d only seen in seasoned warriors. You dropped into a low sweep, pivoting on one leg to strike its base, sending it sprawling. Rising fluidly, you delivered a precise strike to the 'head,' punctuating the movement with a hum as if you hadn’t just obliterated a target.

The final flourish was almost poetic: you executed a spinning kick, your heel colliding with the dummy so hard it cracked the wooden stand beneath it. The dummy tumbled to the side, and you stood there, breathing lightly, as if the exertion hadn’t affected you in the slightest.

Karlach couldn’t contain herself any longer.

“WHAT IN THE HELLS WAS THAT?!”

Your head snapped toward her, your face flooding with color as you realized you weren’t alone.

“Karlach!” you stammered, your hands flying to smooth your tunic. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?!” Karlach stepped out from behind the tree, her arms gesturing wildly. “What are you doing? Since when do you know how to do… that?” She pointed at the now-defeated dummy, which lay pitifully on its side.

You crossed your arms defensively, cheeks still burning. “I’ve always known a little…”

“A little?!” Karlach let out a booming laugh, her tail swishing behind her. “Babe, you just took that dummy apart like it insulted your singing or something!”

You bit your lip, your eyes darting away.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you mumbled. “It’s just… I wanted to be able to help. You all are so incredible in battle, and I’m just…”

“You’re just what?” Karlach cut in, stepping closer. “The bard who keeps us inspired and alive? The one who holds this whole ragtag crew together?”

Your blush deepened, but you met her eyes. “I just thought… if I could be stronger—physically—I wouldn’t be such a burden.”

Karlach’s expression softened immediately. She reached out, her large, calloused hands cupping your cheeks gently.

“Love,” she said, her voice low and warm, “you’re never a burden. You don’t have to break dummies in half to prove your worth to anyone. But… I gotta admit, that was really impressive.”

You blinked up at her. “You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Mad?” Karlach grinned, her sharp teeth flashing. “Are you kidding? I’m proud as hell. But I am gonna need you to teach me some of those moves. Especially that spinny one—that was badass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your earlier embarrassment melting away.

“Maybe,” you teased, poking her chest lightly. “But only if you promise not to tell the others.”

Karlach made a zipping motion across her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me, champ. But I’m not gonna lie—I’m gonna have a hard time not bragging about my badass bard babe.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. Karlach pulled you into a tight hug, her warmth enveloping you completely.

“C’mon,” she said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get back to camp before Lae’zel notices her dummy’s been… obliterated.”

You groaned, leaning into her. “We’re so dead.”

Karlach laughed, her voice echoing through the trees. “Eh, worth it.”

Minthara:

The woods beyond the camp were quiet, save for the faint notes of a melody drifting through the air. Minthara moved silently between the trees, her keen drow eyes tracking your figure at the far edge of the clearing. It was unusual for you to wander off alone, even more so to take Lae'zel’s battered training dummy with you. Curiosity piqued, Minthara decided to follow.

There you were, standing before the dummy, singing softly to yourself. Minthara paused, leaning against the trunk of a tree, watching. Singing to a training dummy wasn’t entirely out of character for you—your bardic inclinations often led to unusual displays of creativity—but she was puzzled. Why bring it all the way out here?

Her question was soon answered.

As the lilting tune fell from your lips, you suddenly shifted. Your stance became poised, your body a study in fluid motion. Without breaking the rhythm of your humming, you lunged at the dummy. Your movements were precise and graceful, your strikes flowing seamlessly into each other like a carefully choreographed dance. A swift kick sent the dummy reeling, followed by a series of rapid jabs and slaps that would have left a living opponent breathless. Then, with a pivot and a sweep of your leg, you brought the dummy crashing to the ground.

Minthara’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as you continued, employing techniques she recognized as advanced martial arts. There was a particular elegance to your movements, a controlled power that belied the carefree melody you still hummed. You transitioned into a joint lock on the dummy, flipping it as though it were an actual opponent resisting your movements.

Finally, you stood over it, brushing your hands together as if dusting off invisible dirt, your song never faltering. She stepped out of the shadows, slow and deliberate.

“Well, well,” Minthara drawled, her voice low and laced with amusement. “What is this, my little songbird?”

You turned, startled to see her, but quickly recovered, flashing her a sheepish smile. “Oh, Minthara. Didn’t realize you were watching.”

Her red eyes narrowed, scanning you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

“You’re full of surprises. I’ve spent this entire time believing you to be helpless in battle, reliant on your songs and meager spells for survival.” She gestured at the broken dummy. “And yet, here you are, demonstrating martial prowess that rivals even Lae'zel.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Well… it’s not something I show off much. I guess I like to keep it quiet.”

Minthara crossed her arms, her expression stern. “Quiet? Or concealed? Tell me, have you enjoyed allowing me to think of you as defenseless? A fragile thing in need of constant protection?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the accusation. “What? No, that’s not it at all—”

She cut you off, stepping closer, her tone sharp. “You’ve let me believe you were incapable of handling yourself. All this time, I’ve fought to shield you, thinking you needed me.”

You hesitated, then sighed, meeting her piercing gaze. “You do love being overprotective, Minthara. Don’t deny it.”

Her expression faltered, a flicker of realization crossing her face. “That is beside the point.”

“No, it’s exactly the point,” you retorted, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “You thrive on it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much satisfaction you get out of guarding me like a dragon hoarding treasure.”

Minthara’s scowl deepened, but the corners of her lips twitched. “You are insufferable.”

“And you adore me for it,” you quipped, stepping closer to her. “Minthara, I never meant to deceive you. I just… I didn’t want to take away something that brings you joy.”

She studied you for a long moment, her golden eyes searching. Then, with a resigned sigh, she uncrossed her arms. “You are maddening, songbird.”

“And yet you love me.”

Minthara’s lips curved into a small, reluctant smile. “I do,” she admitted, her voice softening. “Even if you insist on testing my patience.”

You grinned and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You will,” she said, her tone regaining its edge. “Starting with another demonstration. I wish to see every technique you’ve been hiding from me.”

“Now?” you asked, glancing at the ruined dummy.

“Now,” she replied, stepping back and gesturing to the clearing. “And this time, no singing.”

You laughed, shaking your head but obeying. After all, when Minthara asked, you couldn’t refuse.

Lae'zel:

The clearing at the edge of the woods was quiet, save for the faint strains of a melody drifting through the crisp evening air. Lae'zel moved silently, her movements honed by years of Githyanki discipline, her sharp gaze locked on your figure in the distance. She had been curious when she noticed you sneaking away from camp with her broken training dummy. Lae'zel didn't believe in secrets—at least not when they came from you—and her curiosity outweighed her irritation at your appropriation of her equipment.

When she arrived at the clearing, she saw you standing before the battered dummy, humming a tune, your voice soft and lilting. Lae'zel frowned. Singing to a training dummy was strange, even for you. Still, she folded her arms and leaned against a tree, watching silently.

Then you moved.

With the grace of a dancer, you shifted your stance, your feet gliding effortlessly across the ground. You launched into a fluid series of attacks, every strike precise, every movement seamless. Your legs swept low, toppling the dummy, before you flipped backward and struck again with a powerful palm thrust. Lae'zel's eyes widened slightly as you transitioned smoothly into an arm lock, flipping the dummy as though it were an opponent resisting your control.

And the whole time, you kept humming.

Lae'zel’s frown deepened into a scowl. This was no ordinary display. You were using techniques she recognized as advanced martial arts, movements that spoke of training and discipline far beyond the carefree bard she knew. Her pride prickled, and her hands twitched, itching to act.

She didn’t hesitate. Stepping forward, she called out, her voice sharp and commanding. “If you think to test yourself, bard, you shall find no better opponent than me.”

You barely had time to turn before Lae'zel lunged. Reflex took over as you dodged her initial strike, countering with a swift kick that she deflected with ease. Her blade remained sheathed, but her strikes came fast and hard, testing your mettle with every movement.

You tried to hold your ground, countering her attacks with the techniques you had been practicing. For a brief moment, you thought you might impress her—until she caught your wrist mid-strike, twisted you effortlessly, and swept your legs out from under you. You landed on your back with a thud, her knee pressing firmly against your chest, her hand gripping your wrist like iron.

Her golden eyes bore into yours, her expression a mix of fury and curiosity. “Explain yourself. Now.”

You winced, trying to catch your breath under her unrelenting weight. “I—was training.”

Her grip tightened. “Obviously. Why?”

You hesitated, your face flushing. “I wanted to… to be better. To protect you.”

Lae'zel blinked, her scowl deepening. “Protect me? You are a fool. I am the superior warrior. I do not need protecting.”

“I know,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “But I care about you, Lae'zel. I hate the thought of you facing danger alone, of not being able to help you when it matters most.”

Her expression shifted, the anger in her gaze softening into something more unreadable. She studied you for a long moment before scoffing and releasing your wrist, though her knee remained firmly in place. “You waste your time. You are no match for me, nor will you ever be.”

“Maybe not,” you admitted with a small smile. “But I can still try.”

Lae'zel huffed, rising to her feet and pulling you up with her. “You are a fool,” she repeated, but her tone was less harsh. “Your efforts are clumsy, your techniques unfinished. But your spirit…” She paused, her lips twitching into a rare, begrudging smile. “Your spirit is not without merit.”

You grinned, brushing dirt off your tunic. “Coming from you, love, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Do not misunderstand,” she said, jabbing a finger at your chest. “You will not protect me. But if you insist on training, you will do so properly. Under my instruction.”

Your smile widened. “Does that mean you’ll teach me?”

“It means you will endure,” she said, turning on her heel and gesturing for you to follow. “Now, return my dummy to camp. We begin at dawn.”

Despite her brusque tone, you couldn’t help but notice the faintest hint of pride in her eyes as she walked away. And for that, every bruise was worth it.

Shadowheart:

The edge of the clearing was quiet except for the melodic strains of your voice carrying softly on the breeze. Shadowheart stood hidden among the trees, her brows knit in mild confusion as she observed you standing before a broken training dummy that clearly belonged to Lae’zel. Singing to it wasn’t entirely out of character for you—Shadowheart had seen you serenade stranger objects—but something about your focus held her attention.

You were humming a playful tune, your voice lilting and gentle, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Then, without breaking the rhythm of your melody, you moved.

The shift was graceful, almost hypnotic. Shadowheart’s breath caught as you launched into a series of movements that seemed more like a dance than a fight. Your steps were light, deliberate, as you circled the dummy, and then—your arm shot out in a palm strike that cracked against the wooden surface. The dummy wobbled but didn’t fall, and you followed up with a spinning kick that knocked it clean off balance. Still singing, you transitioned smoothly into a series of intricate holds and flips, mimicking the motions of grappling an invisible foe with precision and grace.

It was elegant, fluid, and completely unexpected.

Shadowheart found herself riveted, her lips parting slightly as you executed a flawless takedown, your hands locking the dummy into a chokehold before you released it and returned to your feet in one seamless motion. The contrast between the peaceful tune you hummed and the deadly precision of your strikes left her both amused and… intrigued. She felt her cheeks warm as her thoughts turned decidedly less innocent.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, she stepped out from her hiding place, her arms crossed and her smirk coy. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

Your head snapped up, your cheeks flushing immediately at the sight of her. “Shadowheart! I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

“No, I imagine not.” She strolled closer, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “Here I thought you were sneaking off for some peaceful alone time. Instead, I find you… dismantling Lae’zel’s dummy with techniques I didn’t know you possessed.”

You glanced down, suddenly shy, your hands twisting nervously in front of you. “I—I didn’t want anyone to see. It’s just something I’ve been working on. You know, in case I need to defend myself.”

Shadowheart arched an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Defend yourself? Against what, exactly? Poor unsuspecting training dummies?”

You pouted slightly, which only seemed to amuse her more. “I thought it might be useful. Everyone’s always protecting me. I just wanted to—”

“To what?” she interrupted, stepping even closer. Her voice dropped, softer, more intimate. “Prove yourself? Impress someone?” She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over you appreciatively. “If that was the goal, you’ve certainly succeeded.”

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, trying to play off her teasing. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“Oh, it’s far from nothing,” she murmured, her tone laced with both admiration and mischief. “I have to say, it’s quite… captivating. Watching you move like that.” She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, her fingers lingering just a moment too long. “And you looked so at ease. Singing while you fought. It’s rather… arousing.”

“Shadowheart!” you squeaked, your voice higher than you intended. You covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your embarrassment, but she only laughed softly, catching your wrists and pulling them gently away.

“Don’t hide from me,” she said, her voice dipping into something low and warm. “I like this side of you. Confident, graceful, capable. Why have you been hiding it?”

You hesitated, meeting her gaze. “I just… didn’t want to make a big deal of it. Everyone’s so skilled already. And… well, I kind of like when you—when you fuss over me.”

She paused, her smile softening. “Is that so?”

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re always so protective. It makes me feel… cared for.”

Shadowheart’s expression shifted, her teasing melting into something more tender. She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing gently across your skin. “You are cared for. Deeply.” She leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was soft yet lingering, a silent promise wrapped in affection.

When she pulled back, her smirk returned, though it was gentler now. “But I’ll admit, I might enjoy seeing you take down a few more dummies. Especially if you keep singing while you do it.”

You laughed, the tension easing from your shoulders. “Deal. But only if you don’t tell Lae’zel I took her dummy.”

Shadowheart chuckled, threading her fingers through yours. “Your secret is safe with me, my love. For now.”

Jaheira:

The forest clearing was tranquil, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the trees. Jaheira walked at a measured pace, her steps as silent as the breeze rustling the leaves. She had noticed your absence and decided to follow, curious as to what you might be up to. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she stopped, her brows furrowing slightly as she took in the sight before her.

There you were, standing serenely in the center of the clearing with Lae’zel’s broken training dummy. That, in itself, was not entirely unusual—Jaheira was used to your whimsical nature. You were humming a lilting tune, a faint smile on your lips, as if completely at peace. But then… you moved.

Jaheira’s eyes widened slightly as you shifted into an elegant stance. Your movements flowed like water as you began to circle the dummy, your humming never faltering. With a sharp exhale, you struck, your palm landing against the wooden frame with a resounding crack. The force of the blow was shocking, but it was the grace with which you followed through that truly caught Jaheira’s attention.

You spun on your heel, delivering a precise kick that sent the dummy teetering. Before it could recover, you swept its legs out from under it and dropped into a low stance, your hands poised as if prepared to grapple an invisible foe. Then, you transitioned into a smooth jiu-jitsu hold, manipulating the dummy’s limbs with practiced ease.

Jaheira stood frozen, equal parts impressed and bemused, as she watched you flip the dummy over your shoulder and pin it to the ground. Throughout it all, you never stopped humming, your tune as calm and unwavering as a lullaby.

When you finally stood, brushing your hands off with a satisfied sigh, Jaheira stepped forward, breaking the silence.

“I see you’ve been keeping secrets,” she said, her voice carrying just enough warmth to temper the accusation.

You jumped, spinning to face her, your cheeks flushing crimson. “Jaheira! Beloved, I—uh—it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” she replied, arching an elegant brow. “Because it looks like you’ve been hiding some very impressive skills. Care to explain?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under her discerning gaze. “It’s just… something I’ve been working on. For fun. And… well, to be a little less helpless.”

Jaheira crossed her arms, her expression softening just slightly.

“Helpless? You? Hardly. But I admit, I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who practiced martial arts in secret.”

You glanced down, your voice barely above a mumble. “I didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.”

Jaheira sighed, stepping closer. “You are being ridiculous.” She placed a hand on your shoulder, her tone firm but kind. “There’s no shame in honing your skills. In fact…” She gestured to the dummy. “Your form was impressive, but your follow-through could use some work. That spin was elegant, but you left yourself open.”

You blinked up at her, surprised. “You were impressed?”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But there is always room for improvement.”

Your embarrassment gave way to a shy smile. “Would you… show me? How to improve, I mean.”

Jaheira chuckled softly, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to ask twice, my love.” She moved to stand beside you, her movements deliberate and sure. “Now, watch closely. When you step into the spin, keep your guard up like this. It will make it harder for your opponent to counter.”

As she demonstrated, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest. Jaheira’s approval meant more to you than you had realized, and her willingness to teach only deepened your admiration for her.

After a few tries, you managed to replicate her movement, earning a small nod of satisfaction from her. “Better,” she said. “Now, again.”

You laughed softly, your earlier embarrassment forgotten as you focused on her instructions. Jaheira’s steady presence, combined with her gentle encouragement, made you feel capable—stronger than you ever had before.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, glancing at her as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Jaheira met your gaze, her eyes warm. “You don’t need to thank me. Just… promise me you won’t hide your strengths again. You’re far more capable than you give yourself credit for.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “I promise.”

“Good,” she said, a hint of playfulness creeping into her tone. “Now, let’s see if you can manage that spin without stumbling this time.”

This was so fun to write and I hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

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[thehistoriccemetery]

Companions React to Reader Sitting on Their Lap

It’s another pretty short one this week, as I’ve had terrible Minthara brainrot and I’ve been able to write nothing but filthy smut 😔

Anyway, this one is some family friendly head canons about the ladies with a bonus Dame Aylin and Isobel!

Shadowheart

Shadowheart doesn’t say anything at first, but you do notice her skin get slightly redder, and you watch a tiny smirk grow across her face.

She’s not typically one for public displays of affection, but something about lap sitting is different.

It’s like affection with plausible deniability. What else was I supposed to do? Sit on the floor?

After you’ve done it once, Shadowheart considers the barrier broken and takes every opportunity to sit on your lap.

Sometimes you think she must have a sixth sense that tells her when you sit down, because she simply appears on your lap.

If you cross your legs or do anything else to prevent her sitting in your lap, she gives you a little cough to let you know you should remedy that as soon as possible.

Depending on who’s around, she’ll sometimes lean back against you, pressing her whole body to yours.

She likes it when you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on her shoulder.

While she prefers to be the one sitting on your lap, she’s still more than happy to let you sit on hers.

Lae’zel

The first time you try sitting on her lap, she pushes you off. Why are you sitting on top of her? Weirdo. You roll your eyes and sit on the ground.

But then she decides that it’s weirder you’re sitting on the ground so she gives you her seat.

But then she doesn’t want to stand anymore. Tsk’va. Whatever. Guess she’s gonna have to sit on you.

Lae’zel only ever sits on your lap, never the other way around. She oddly never picks up on any of the possible implications of that.

If anyone calls Lae’zel a bottom she’s gonna throw hands.

She doesn’t lay up against you or anything. To her this move is strictly practical, or at least she acts like it is.

You let her have it. As far as you’re concerned, you have a lovely girlfriend on your lap so you’re not going to complain.

Karlach

The first time you nonchalantly sit down in Karlach’s lap, she’s so chill and unfazed.

At least, that’s the vibe she’s trying to give off. She can be cool about this. So cool.

It’s less than a minute before her body starts to betray her. Her legs bounce up and down excitedly under you. As soon as you turn to face her, her stoic expression cracks into one of pure delight.

After that, Karlach pulls so many tricks to ask you to sit in her lap without actually having to ask.

Oh no! There’s no more chairs! Wherever will you sit? Looks like it’ll just have to be in her lap again. Ignore those broken chairs hidden in the corner, this isn’t about them.

You catch on pretty fast. Only so many chairs can disappear before things start to get suspicious.

You sit yourself on Karlach’s lap, watching the goofy smile grow across her face. “You know you can just ask, right?”

Her skin flushes and she buries her face in your neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, she’ll never sit on your lap because she’s too afraid to crush you. Even if you’re bigger than her. You’re too precious to risk it.

Minthara

Minthara is always taking up as much space as she desires in any given situation, so it’s not uncommon that she takes up the space of more than one person.

Luckily she’s always got a place for you to sit, whether that be in between her legs or on them.

She’s never bashful about pulling you into her lap, even when there people are around.

If anything, an audience actually encourages her. You are hers, and that is most clear to everyone when you’re perched on her thigh.

Other times she will be slightly more subtle, tapping her inner thigh in a silent invitation, queuing you to join her.

There are very few scenarios in which Minthara will sit on your lap though. At least, in public.

If you try to get her to sit, she’ll shoot you an “I know that you know this isn’t how this works” look, leaving you to let her take your seat and take your position on her lap.

Jaheira

It really depends on the day with Jaheira.

Most days she going to tell you to get an extra chair. There is no need for you to be sitting in her lap right now.

Sometimes, even if there is no extra chair she would have you sit at her feet in front of her before she let you into her lap.

But on those particularly long and hard days, when you come back looking exhausted and beat, she will allow for some extra tenderness.

She’ll gently guide your head to rest on her shoulder or against her chest and stroke your hair.

If you’re in a more comfortable space she will even slide her hand up under your shirt to rub your back.

More often than not, you fall asleep almost instantly, even if everyone around you is still making a ruckus.

She’s still not going to carry you to bed though. You can walk yourself there.

Dame Aylin x Isobel

Isobel is a princess and Dame Aylin is her throne. It’s more common than not the Isobel is on Aylin’s lap.

For Aylin, it’s like displaying a beautiful trophy. She needs everyone to look at her beautiful girlfriend right now.

The notion makes Isobel blush, but she’s just as proud to have Aylin as Aylin is to have her, so she’ll allow it.

Aylin doesn’t sit on Isobel’s lap, nor would she ever allow her to give up her seat, but Aylin will sit at her feet and gaze up at her with awe and wonder while Isobel smiles down at her and runs her hands through the aasimar’s hair.

And Selune forbid there’s no place for Isobel to sit. Aylin would sooner get down on one knee and let Isobel sit on her leg than leave a tired Isobel to stand.

Aylin’s shoulders are also an acceptable option. She can hoist Isobel up there with ease. She’ll never have to walk for any longer than she wishes.

Granted, it makes them like 10 feet tall, so there’s only a few places it’s applicable before Isobel has to be on alert for low hanging obstacles.

[donat-senpai]

Druids are the most cunning in the camp. They often turn into animals. You can't resist cuddling their cute little faces. They get nose kisses and ear scratches. Sometimes you let them sleep next to you. Everyone else in the camp looks with envy at the arrogant predators who are constantly taking you away.

(Gale will not give up until he has turned over all the libraries of the world in search of a potion or spell that turns a person into an animal. Perhaps he will forget to find a way to get back in advance. But as long as you scratch his cat ears, he won't complain )

[vibingandsimping]

Who else loves random descriptions of intimate positions?

Me, I do. I am incredibly touch starved. Anyways-

Main good route companions + random intimate positions! Pt. 1

All of you villain/evil route lovers, you will be fed soon. (I am one of them)

Forewarnings: Suggestive content, fluff and not proofread

Astarion loves to hook your leg over his shoulder as he kisses you. One hand crawling up that leg from the hip, to the thigh and to the calf. His nails trailing and leaving a tickling grace in it’s wake. You shudder at the touch and squirm a little. He relishes in that and you can feel his cheeky smirk against your lips. You gasp as he nips your lower lip with his fangs. He takes that chance and deepens the kiss between you two.

Wyll intertwines your fingers in both hands. Presses them on the ground up by your head as his mouth lavishes your neck. You can feel his breath against your earlobe and it makes you shiver. His legs trap your thighs and you’re laid beneath him as he stares at you. His gaze speaks only admiration. It’s so intense- and raw. He whispers sweet nothings as he kisses you. You’re sure to find some marks he left on you in the morning.

Lae’zel hooks her leg around your hip. You’re kissing on her chest as her fingers place upon your head. Her little gasps and whimpers are quiet- muffled. She’s trying to conceal how much she enjoys this as ever the strong woman she is. You dig your fingers painfully into her waist and she groans unabashedly this time. You hum approvingly before she takes the reigns. You turned this into a challenge.

Shadowheart loves to place her head on your thighs. No matter how small or large. You can feel her hair tickle your skin, the braid held in one hand as you run along the length of it. Her eyes are closed contently as she savors the warmth you emit. It’s almost unnoticeable the way her fingers gently creep up the outside of your thigh. Not until she’s placed her palm on it and squeezes. There’s a smirk on her face as she continues to feign innocence.

Karlach has your head placed on her chest as she lays. You can hear the infernal engine working under her ribcage. It’s mechanical and unnatural… but the heat she radiates comforts any sort of unease you have. Her hand strokes your head and neck as you bury into the soft flesh of her breasts. There’s a laugh that rocks her body, seemingly amused by how you snuggled into her. You laugh with her too, pressing a gentle kiss against the glowing part of her skin.

Gale wraps your legs around his hips and you instinctively lock your ankles together. His hands slide under your thighs towards your rear, cupping it as he holds your hips in the air. He gazes at you with warm brown eyes as he lowers his head. He plants kisses from the center of your chest down to your stomach. His teeth occasionally nip as his tongue darts out to taste the flesh. He does so until he reaches your pelvis before retracing his steps. Once he reaches your chest, he parts and meets your lips this time.

Halsin holds you in his arms as he stands. You feel weightless in his grasp, even if you’re bigger. Despite his size- people still seem to underestimate how strong he is. He kisses you tenderly as he wraps his arms protectively around you. You’re enveloped in him as his scent washes over you. It smells like forest dew and wild-berries with a hint of his natural musk. He whispers in your ear about how you’re the finest creation nature could bestow him with.

Jaheira seems to regard you almost like porcelain. She’s an older elf and it’d been over a century since she had a lover. Fighting Ketheric Thorm and surviving the curse was her purpose for years. She holds you like you’re going to vanish. Arms linked around your waist and legs tangled in yours. Her nose presses against your skin and she breathes in your scent. You smile softly as you allow the woman to enjoy your presence and touch. Your fingers tracing shapes onto her shoulder-blades as she relaxes like putty.

Minsc holds you tightly and almost crushes you against his chest. He truly forgets his own strength sometimes as he hums happily. He savors the feeling of your heart thrumming against his skin. When you squirm, he blinks and loosens his grip with an apology. You simply smile and shake your head, telling him it’s alright. He has a guilty look as he watches you carefully. You sigh and crawl up a little to press a kiss against his cheek. Like that, he straightens up and holds you again. He’s more careful this time but the grip is still firm enough to hold you against him. What a gentle giant he is.

[avocado-writing]

Astarion x Reader

Astarion x Mage Apprentice!Reader* & Pt2*

Mistaken Identity

heart, home*

chilly

Astarion x Rogue!Tav Headcanons

Astarion’s Pre-Cazador Love

Virgin!Reader Feeding*

Gentle Cuddles

Pampered

Scotophobia

Anchor

Fangless

Training*

Where He’d Take You In The City

although I was burning, you’re the only light*

Gale x Reader

Good Boy* & pt2

Karlach x Reader

Burn Heals*

Halsin x Reader

Sneaking Off*

Bred*

Wyll x Reader

Giving In & Part 2

Teasing*

Misc

Kiddo (Gortash & Reader, platonic)

Lists

Supportive Headcanons

Shy Reader Kisses

Reader Often Ignored

Short Reader

Ascended Fiend Raphael HCs*

Dirty Headcanons*

Socially Anxious Reader

Companions help Reader in Pain

Pregnancy & Parenthood Headcanons

Reader Waiting for Rejection

Reader Worried Nobody Would Want Them

Reader Wearing His Clothes

Roadtrip AU

Comforting Headcanons

Trouble Sleeping

Reader Who Hides Their Face & Female Companions

Reader Who Says They’re Glad They Met Him

Reader With Skin Condition

Reactions to Calling Companions Mummy/Daddy*

Reactions to Companions Calling You Mummy/Daddy*

Reactions to You Hiding an Injury

Reader Sad About Being Ignored

BG3 Men Reactions When You Tease Them*

Companions Realising They’re In Love With You Mid-Battle & Reverse

Companion Reactions to a Reader Who Can Change Sex

Modern AU Picnic in the Park

Bard!Reader Serenading Them

Reactions When You’re Self-Conscious About Your Laugh

Halsin & Astarion Realising You’re Strong

Reactions When They See You Self-Destructing

Birthday Celebrations*

When You Think Your Love Is Unrequited

Reactions When You Say Their Love Will Pass

Reactions To You Drinking The Elixir of the Colossus*

How Female Companions Go Down*

Reactions When You’re a Selkie

Reactions When You Become Dominant*

Companions Help You Get Fit

Rainy Day Cuddles

Reactions to a Reader Who Loves to Cook

BG3 Ladies & Breast Play*

Reactions to You Coming Out as Ace

BG3 Ladies’ Reaction to a New Facial Scar

Pregnancy Cravings

How the BG3 Ladies Cuddle

Companions Falling For You Mid-Performance

How the BG3 Ladies Talk in Bed

BG3 Men & Reader Who Can't Read

Reactions to Awkward Comforting

Saying You Love Them Mid-Argument

[hijackalx]

BG3 NON-COMPANIONS/NON-ORIGIN COMPANIONS TURN ONS/KINKS +18

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

characters included: halsin, minthara, jaheira, gortash

*dark content warning for gortash*

HALSIN

SIZE DIFFERENCE

OBVIOUSLYYYY lmao. he loves how small u are in comparison to him. i mean everything about him is large— hands, arms, chest, thighs. also, i feel like he likes that he has to help u when u take control because ur smaller or weaker than him. like, when he has to subtly help u pin his wrists by moving them in the direction u want lol

THIGH RIDING

this also plays into the size difference thing. like his thigh is just so big/muscular, and he loves watching u grind on it (or he can bounce his knee to help u get off too). the type to grab u by ur hips and assist u when ur rhythm starts to stutter. he also loves the wet spot that forms in ur underwear if u keep them on 💗

DEEP THROATING/FACESITTING

OK HE LOVES BOTH like i said everything about him is large (😈) so he loves to see u try to swallow him whole. the way u gag and struggle to take him in is soooo hot to him. also all the drool that spills out of ur mouth 🤤🤤 as for facesitting u better sit ur ass tf DOWN !! HE CAN TAKE IT !! lovessss when u grind on his face/mouth, also loves to squeeze ur ass during it

THREESOME

THIS MAN IS GENEROUS !!! LOVES to share !! always wanting to invite people to have sex with y'all. he feels like it's so much more fun and also loves to watch u get fucked/have u watch him get fucked. will want to do spit roasting too.

SWINGING

sooo into exchanging partners with other couples. or just fucking other people in general. of course he won't do this if u don't want to though. but he gets really excited if u do 😹😹 probably gets off while sharing ur experiences with each other

MINTHARA

KNIFE PLAY

likes the way u shake and whimper as she brings her knife close to ur skin. will leave small cuts and want to carve her initials into ur skin. also slightly into bloodplay too ?? i feel like she'd be into smearing ur blood on her hands and making u clean them off with ur tongue OOF

BONDAGE

she would absolutely cast web and use it as bondage restraints LMAO. will have u in some crazyyy positions too. kind of in a shibari way but with webs. the webs are actually pretty gentle though and have some give so she's not like, totally sadistic with it 😌💗

DACRYPHILIA

SHE DOES LIKE TO SEE U CRY THOUGH LMAO like something about how weak/pathetic u look turns her on so bad— as long as SHE'S the one that made u cry. if it's because of somebody or something else it's lowkey a boner killer for her 😹😹😹 will say really horrible, mean things to try to bring u to tears and then get wet af. will not comfort u after either

GAGGING

likes to use a ball gag but will honestly use whatever she has at the moment. a rag or her fingers even. she likes that u can't speak and can only moan/whimper. also into the way u drool. will purposely ask u questions and then punish/degrade u for not being able to answer

BOOT WORSHIP

LOVESSS making u kiss her boots. will want to hold u down with her boot and make u praise her endlessly. or step on ur face. might even be into giving u a little kick in the diaphragm if u want 😹😹😹

JAHEIRA

MIRROR SEX

WILL WANT TO BE FUCKED IN FRONT OF A MIRROR!!!! with her face pressed against it while she's getting backshots or even with one propped up beside the bed so she can watch how good she looks while she rides u. lowkey will put on a show for herself and get off to it 😹😹

LINGERIE

loves lingerie of all kinds. the garter straps on her thighs are her favorite part tbh. probably prefers to wear black or red— like classically sexy colors. also probably likes it if u wear some too, and will want to keep it on for the full duration of the sex. LOVES lace

STRIPPING

^^ ALTHOUGH.... she also really likes to strip for u. like going nice and slow while u try to restrain urself lol. will probably give u a lap dance too and is pretty playful with it sometimes. particularly loves to see how u get progressively more horny the longer she takes, also into seeing u touch urself a little bit during it too

NIPPLE PLAY

sucking on/playing with her nipples is a MUST. HUGEEEE erogenous zone for her. can probably cum from nipple stimulation alone. likes when u make it hurt a little too, like pinching or twisting them

DEGRADATION

kind of into u calling her names.... like whore or slut. tell her she's a dirty whore while u pull her hair and fuck her from behind. will also talk down to u if ur not really doing the best job LMAO like u better fuck her right or ur gonna get it 😹😹 she'll straight up be like "is that the best u can do?" or "this is pathetic."

BONUS:

GORTASH

BREEDING

HE NEEDS HEIRRRSSSS !!! ALWAYS wants to cum inside. an actual babymaking MONSTER like he cums so much its crazy. loves to see u stuffed full of his cum, it really makes him feels accomplished after all of his hard work 💪🏻💯😹

DADDY DOM

he is so into being called daddy. depending on the context he’ll get rock hard but also likes if u call him that outside of sex too. u can basically get anything u want from him if u add a ‘please daddy’ at the end of it— like he just can’t bring himself to say no. he’ll do anything for u to keep calling him that lol

*** DUBCON ***

DEFINITELY into coercing u/figuring out ways to get what he wants. likes when u get overstimulated and start telling him it’s too much or trying to push him away (u do have a safeword). also the fact that he can overpower u if he wants gets him sooo hard

POWER PLAY

LOVESSS having u at his beck and call. the more pliant and submissive u are the better. won’t do this outside of the bedroom unless u want to or if u initiate it since he prefers the idea of only him being able to see u like that. he’s the only one you’ll roll over for, so to speak lol

COLLARING

makes a special collar for u with expensive imported materials and shit lmao. thinks u look absolutely gorgeous in it and will tell u that all the time. loves the way u gasp when he sharply tugs on its leash. will also tug on it while giving u backshots. likes how it chokes u a little bit too, and the bruises it leaves behind when he’s too rough with it

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS

[sorcerous-caress]

So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

[demigoddessqueens]

Hii, loved ur recent bg kinktober post and decided to throw in my own request :)

you're holding on by a thread and they sort of grin against your lips, mumbling, "just lose control, love." and not knowing how to talk or exist after they finish kissing you like they've been needing that kiss for a lifetime!!!

With Zevlor, Halsin, jaeheira, Dammon, and Rolan

(If u can't tell I love my tiefling men 🤭 also full disclosure I didn't check who you write for so if I mentioned one that you don't do or feel like doing scrap it by all means I love who and what you write already :))

Oh thanks! I was kinda curious if any were reading my kinktober posts 😅😁 but thank you for your kind words 😄💕

NSFW MDNI 18+

KINKTOBER 2024

Zevlor

He says it because it feels right but also he wants to show you he is more than enough for you, that you can feel the security and underlying passion with him if you allow him in

Jaheira

She takes pride in the work she’s done to make you unravel, and when her purring words whisper in your ear, your legs shake around her fingers delving inside you that massages your pleasure out as you moan for her

Halsin

Your pleasure is his concern first and foremost and giving you the comfort to let go is what adds to his heated lust. The slow, hard thrusts are more than enough to keep you satisfied as you ride out the euphoria from his words

Dammon

He cannot believe the words that are spilling from his lips, hiding his blush in the crook of your shoulder as you buck and grind against him when he purrs for you to “let go”.

Rolan

He takes pride in getting you to unravel so easily for him but it’s the comfort in your shared intimacy that he alone does this for you.

As you let go with a “Rolan, yes!”, he curls more into you as his tail wraps tightly around you

[randoimago]

hehe hmm Shadowheart, Minthara, and maybe Jaheira comforting reader who is going through some distress (doesn’t have to be specified) but is afraid of venting about her problems out of fear of abandonment (wow strangely specific, I wonder why)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Jaheira, Minthara, Shadowheart

Note(s): I did my absolute best with this. I know I usually order the queue by date of when I get requests, but I feel like this is especially needed right now.

Jaheira

"Never forget how strong you are and how far you have made it," Jaheira says as she listens to you, her hand resting on your shoulder if you allow her.

"Feeling alone and hopeless is understandable, but never forget that you aren't alone. You might not be able to physically see them, but there are others with your same feelings and beliefs out there."

She isn't the most physically affectionate person, but if you're comfortable with it, she will gladly give you a tight hug. "You are so much stronger than you think. You matter. Take as much time as you need to be upset, you'll be ready to walk through fire again," she murmurs and gives you a smile.

Minthara

"Look at me," she commands once you've let out your grievances. Advice isn't her strong suit, but she will do her best. "All those problems you have? The feeling of being alone? They are enemies on your battlefield and you will crush them."

"They overwhelm you for this moment, so retreat and get stronger to go back and defeat them," Minthara tells you, already fetching candles and incense.

"Stress and soreness will wear you down. Take a hot bath, meditate, heal your mind and body so you can take on your foes."

Shadowheart

"You know, when Karlach isn't looking, I go and give her bear the tightest hug. I put all my emotions into it, sometimes I shed a fee tears too," she tells you, giving the gentlest of smiles. "Of course, I'm happy to hug you too, but no pressure."

"The world can feel hard and cold. Sometimes all it takes is finding the right people to talk to," she adds, thinking a moment. "I'm certain I would be even more lonely if I never found you and everyone. Maybe, you could find a bullitain of something? Find a community to talk to others so everyone can heal a bit."

Shadowheart thinks a moment before she smiles brightly and looks at you. "A spa day would be delightful too. A nice bubblebath, scented candles, ooh maybe paint your nails too. Let out some of the stress and take care of yourself first. And then you can kick the world's ass!"

[madschiavelique]

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐮𝐫'𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝟑 : 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : 

─ . here you might fight content such as :

𝜗𝜚‧ bg3 characters x reader 𝜗𝜚‧ bg3 characters x reader smut 𝜗𝜚‧ bg3 headcanons 𝜗𝜚‧ bg3 headcanons x reader

here you can find my request rules for bg3 in general and some questions that were asked about it

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 

─ . dating the men of bg3 (astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, wyll) + dating gortash as a fem!reader and dating gortash as an nb/masc!reader

─ . reader that has epileptic seizures and how their partner handle it (astarion, gale, wyll)

─ . jealousy headcanons (rolan, raphael, haarlep, karlach)

─ . halsin, gale, astarion, gortash, raphael on their wedding night

─ . the original companions with a lich s/o

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 : 

─ . spawn!astarion x reader cuddles

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐞 : 

─ . (nsfw) intelligent fucker

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡 : 

─ . karlach comforting reader about not getting to the absolute and being distracted on the way

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧 : 

─ . young!halsin and shadowdruid!reader thoughts

─ . halsin and shadowdruid!reader thoughts pt.2

─ . halsin x tiefling reader leading the tieflings at the grove

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 : 

─ . astarion x fem!reader x shadowheart post act 3

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ 𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐫𝐞𝐦 : 

─ . what an orgy with the companions would look like (pt.1)

─ . what an orgy with the companions would look like (pt.2)

─ . thoughts on an isekaid reader

─ . F8 (reader who is conscious of the mechanics of the game)

[lynnlovesthestars]

Dinner is served.

Pairing: Jaheira x fem!reader. Genre: smut, porn without plot. Warnings: eating cunt. Improper use of mommy and cub. Alcohol consumption. End of act 3. Improper use of study. AN: yes, it will have a part 2, i just gotta write it. Also not proofread as always Synopsis: she was hungry, what can I say. WC: around 1k wrds. Masterlist Kofi tag list form

At the cusp of the final battle against the absolute, everyone was reunited in the coziness of Jaheira’s home. Alcohol and chatter filled the room as everyone mingled. Despite the tragic adventure they had to share, they couldn’t help but cherish the friendships they had made along the way. You gulp down what you think it’s the third drink when confidence takes over your senses.

It was an accident, you swore, but the way your pink lips called Jaheira “mommy” had stirred something in the half-elf. Suddenly, as if the switch in her head had turned, her cheerful jest, turned flirtatious. Her usual jokes were replaced by sneaky touches and whispered compliments. Even the way she called you ‘cub’ changed, said almost as a purr as she gently caressed your cheek.

You couldn’t deny how it affected you, the heat blossoming in your cheeks was obvious to everyone, and you could already feel your wetness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear every time she whispered a new promise.

It was when everyone was too drunk to notice when she gently tugged your arm and winked at you.

Her thumb softly brushed on the back of your hand as she guided you through the corridor to her study.

The moment the door was closed behind you, no words were spoken, she simply cupped her cheek and before you could even process what was going on, her lips were on yours.

She tasted exactly as you imagined, mint and something akin to cayenne, the spice lingering on her tongue and intensifiying every gasp against her lips, and you couldn’t help but heat under her skilled touch.

It was a kiss meant to snatch your soul, you thought as she pushed you against the door, her hands holding on your hips firmly as she kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Little cub, you have to be good for me, got it?” She asked as her lips trailed down to your jawbone, followed only by the goosebumps and your soft panting, still dazed from the kiss.

You nodded as she lavished your neck with nips and open mouthed kisses while her fingers quickly lowered and reached for the hem of your dress. “Good girl” She purred as pressed herself against you, you could feel her breasts press against yours as her knee sneaked between your legs to brush against your needy cunt, stealing a guttural moan from your lips.

You couldn’t help but buckle your hips, the rough material of her pants deliciously rubbing against your aching wetness made your head spin as she tutted. “Gotta be patient, cub” She admonished lovingly as she resumed her descent. She quickly left a peck between your breasts before falling on her knees, her head perfectly inching from your cunt.

She swiftly lifted your dress and throwing it above her head as she hooked one hand around you thigh.

She gently placed a kiss atop your cunt, still not moving your underwear as she gently whisked your leg around her shoulder, giving her full access to your soaked cunt.

She kissed again your cunt, this time her nose brushed against your swollen clit, stealing a soft gasp from your lips.

Her slender finger gently hooked around the hem of your underwear, pulling it to the side and finally exposing your heat to her hot breath. “Delicious” She murmured before she finally pressed her lips to your dripping core, her tongue lazily licking your arousal with an hum.

She dedicated her attention her attention to your cunt, with lazy licks as she loved to trace the length of your pussy to your clit.

She loved the way you gasped her name once she engulfed her face completely in your cunt, eating you out as if she was starving and all that was left was your arousal to fill her.

She had experienced and the way her tongue swirled around your clit was solid proof. Your taste was like cocaine for her, desperately begging for more as she added two fingers, plunging deep in your hot flesh and hitting that spot that would make you crumble.

She plunged with ease as she growled against your cunt, the vibration shaking your body and pulling your closer to the edge as she sucked your clit insatiably.

You could barely keep your mouth shut as she roughly added another finger and you clenched hungry for your release.

She licked you, kissed you, savored you, every centimeter of your throbbing warm pussy getting her high off you, the most euphoric she’s ever been.

You could feel the familiar heat building up in your stomach as she stuffed her face in your cunt, gasping for air yet unable to stop as you tried milking her fingers. She loved the way you throbbed under her lips, ready to welcome your orgasm as your legs started shaking and you couldn’t help but lean even more on her, buckling your hips into her mouth and desperately chasing the feeling, and then you felt it.

It washed over you quickly like a wave pushing and pulling you, overwhelming your body as if you were lost between the waves as Jaheira drank every drop of your orgasm you could give her, uncaring if you were overstimulated and shaking.

She emerged moments later, panting and dishelved. Her hair were all over the place, her shirt was half pullet to the side, exposing her collarbone. Her swollen lips and chin were soaked with your wetness, dripping on her boobs as she licked her hips and looked up at you with innocent eyes.

“Lovely meal, cub” She purred as she wondered if you were ready to be bend over her desk.

[moonselune]

Hi! Could I request something? I just saw you accept new request again! I was thinking of yearning. Them yearning for oblivious tav.

I just love a good old yearning prompt

yesssssss the yearning the pining the dramaaa

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach was trying her best to keep it together. As she sat by the campfire, her eyes kept drifting toward you, her massive frame leaning slightly forward as if she could somehow close the gap between you just by willing it. You were tending to a few weapons you’d scavenged earlier in the day, completely oblivious to the way her molten eyes lingered on you, the way her hands fidgeted with a piece of stray leather to distract herself from the ache in her chest.

Wyll, sitting nearby with a mischievous grin, had noticed. Of course, he had noticed. The Blade of Frontiers had a knack for picking up on unspoken emotions, and Karlach was as subtle as a roaring forge.

“You know,” Wyll began, his voice low and teasing as he leaned toward Karlach, “if you keep staring at them like that, you’re liable to set the poor one on fire.”

Karlach froze, her cheeks flushing as embers flickered to life along her horns.

“What?” she whispered sharply, her voice cracking. “I wasn’t staring! I was just—”

“Yearning?” Wyll supplied with a grin, leaning back casually.

“I don’t yearn,” Karlach snapped, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Oh, come now,” Wyll said, his tone smug. “The sighing, the pining, the tragic glances when he’s not looking—it’s downright poetic.” He tapped his chin theatrically. “It’s almost enough to compose a ballad.”

Karlach shot him a glare, her flames flaring slightly around her shoulders. “Wyll, I swear, if you don’t shut it—”

But it was too late. Her embarrassment sent her infernal engine into overdrive, and the flames on her body surged. The sudden flare caught your attention, and you glanced up from your work.

“Karlach?” you called out, your voice filled with concern as you stood and crossed the campfire toward her. “Are you okay?”

The sheer earnestness in your tone made her heart lurch painfully in her chest. She quickly tried to wave you off, her hands fanning at her shoulders as if she could dampen the flames.

“It’s nothing! Just—hot, you know?” she stammered.

“Well, yeah, you’re always hot,” you said, grabbing a nearby waterskin. “But this seems worse than usual.”

Karlach froze, her eyes going wide at your words. Did you—did you just call her hot? Surely, you didn’t mean it like that, right?

“Here, let me help,” you said, uncapping the waterskin.

“No, no, really, I’m fine—”

Too late. You doused her with a splash of water, and instead of calming her flames, it only made things worse. The steam hissed around her, mingling with her rising panic, and her flames flared even brighter.

“Gods, I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, looking horrified. “Did that make it worse?”

Karlach buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly. “No, no, it’s fine, just—don’t worry about it.”

Wyll, watching the scene unfold, laughed openly now. “You’re really outdoing yourself, Karlach. I think the entire camp will see those flames soon.”

You shot Wyll a confused look. “What’s he talking about?”

Karlach peeked through her fingers, her flames dimming slightly as her mortification reached its peak.

“Nothing! He’s just… being a prat,” she said quickly, glaring at Wyll, who only grinned wider.

“I’d call it encouragement,” Wyll said lightly. “After all, someone here needs to take a hint.”

You blinked at him, clearly puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Karlach stood abruptly, the ground under her feet crunching as her weight shifted.

“I’m gonna, uh, go check on—anything else,” she muttered, stomping off toward the edge of camp.

You watched her go, bewildered, before turning back to Wyll. “Did I do something wrong?”

Wyll chuckled, shaking his head. “Not wrong, no. Just oblivious. Don’t worry—you’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe.”

You frowned, glancing back toward where Karlach had disappeared into the shadows, her flames still faintly flickering in the distance. You didn’t know what you’d missed, but something about the way she’d looked at you before she left lingered in your mind, warm and unexplained.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The campfire crackled gently, casting a warm glow across the assembled group. You sat on a log, sharpening your blade, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents running through the evening.

Minthara, sitting a few paces away, had her sharp red eyes trained on you, a faint furrow in her brow. Her usual composed demeanor was slightly off tonight—her movements a touch too deliberate, her glances toward you lingering just a second too long.

Shadowheart, one of the resident camp gossips, noticed. She always did.

“Why don’t you just say something, Minthara?” Shadowheart drawled lazily, her lips curling into a smirk as she toyed with a loose strand of her hair. “It’s not as though subtlety is your strong suit. Or theirs, for that matter.”

Minthara’s sharp gaze snapped toward her, irritation flashing across her face.

“I do not need your advice, cleric,” she said coolly.

“Oh, I think you do,” Shadowheart said, undeterred. “Because whatever it is you’ve been doing clearly isn’t working. They haven’t even noticed.” She tilted her head toward you, who were now carefully oiling your weapon, oblivious to the tension building around you.

Minthara’s grip on her dagger tightened, her knuckles turning white. “They have other matters to attend to. The fault lies not with my approach but their… distraction.”

Shadowheart chuckled. “Distraction? They’re so dense they probably think the moonrise is flirting with them. You’ll have to carve it into the side of their tent before they catch on.”

That was the last straw. Minthara stood abruptly, her dark cloak billowing behind her as she marched across the campsite toward you.

“Minthara?” you said, startled as her shadow fell over you.

Before you could say another word, she grabbed you by the front of your tunic and pulled you to your feet with a surprising amount of force. Her crimson eyes burned with frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You,” she snapped, her voice ringing out across the camp, “are impossibly blind.”

“W-what?” you stammered, your mind racing to figure out what you’d done wrong this time.

“I have fought by your side,” she began, her voice rising. “I have trusted you, protected you, respected you. I have given you every sign imaginable, and yet you remain oblivious to the fact that I—” She stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath, as if even saying the words aloud were a battle she needed to win. “That I desire you, you fool!”

The camp went silent. Even the fire seemed to crackle a little softer as everyone turned to stare.

You blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “You… you desire me?”

Minthara groaned, her head tipping back in exasperation before she fixed you with an incredulous look. “Yes! Must I spell it out further? Or perhaps I should inscribe it on your blade since that seems to be where your attention is always focused!”

Shadowheart, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely suppressed laughter, finally burst out into an uncontrollable giggle.

“Oh, gods, this is better than I could’ve hoped,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.

Minthara turned her glare on her, her lips curling in irritation. “If you say one more word, Shadowheart, I will—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, holding up your hands. “Everyone calm down.” You turned back to Minthara, your voice softening. “I’m sorry if I missed the signs, Minthara. I honestly didn’t realize.”

Her anger seemed to waver, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability.

“How could you not?” she asked, almost to herself. You hesitated, then placed a tentative hand on hers, still gripping your tunic.

“Because I’m an idiot,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m an idiot who’s honored and… maybe a little thrilled by what you just said.”

For the first time that evening, Minthara seemed at a loss for words. Her lips parted slightly, her sharp demeanor softening as she searched your face.

“Thrilled, you say?” she murmured, the barest hint of a smirk returning.

“Thrilled,” you confirmed, your cheeks warming under her intense gaze.

The tension in the air shifted, no longer charged with frustration but with something warmer, something promising. Minthara released your tunic, smoothing it out almost absently. “Then perhaps next time, you won’t require such… dramatic measures to understand me.”

Shadowheart made a kissy noise behind you, and you shot her a glare over your shoulder. Minthara, however, ignored her entirely, her focus solely on you.

“Now,” she said, her voice back to its usual measured tone. “Shall we continue this conversation somewhere with fewer interruptions?”

You nodded, feeling a grin spread across your face. “Lead the way.”

As you walked off together, Shadowheart’s laughter echoed behind you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. For once, the fog of obliviousness had lifted, and you were exactly where you wanted to be—at Minthara’s side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Lae’zel had always been a force of nature—her sharp tongue, battle-hardened demeanor, and unyielding confidence left no room for doubt. And that’s exactly how she preferred it. To anyone observing her, she was the epitome of githyanki discipline and control. But deep down, behind the steel exterior and fiery eyes, she was at war with herself.

She had a massive, undeniable crush on you.

It was maddening. Every time you smiled at her or even so much as glanced her way, her heart would race—a sensation she would have sworn was impossible for her kind. She had tried everything to make her interest known: sparring sessions where she pushed you to your limits (and a bit beyond), blunt declarations of your 'adequacy' in her eyes, and even offers to 'crush your enemies together in glorious combat'. But somehow, none of it seemed to land.

Instead, you remained oblivious, flashing her that infuriatingly kind smile and treating her like a valued ally rather than someone she desperately wanted to claim as her partner.

One day, during a training session, Lae’zel’s frustration reached its peak. She had you pinned beneath her, her blade at your throat, and instead of fear or admiration, you chuckled.

“Nice move,” you said, your grin wide. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

She grit her teeth and growled, pressing the blade a little closer—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her point.

“You do not take me seriously!” she snapped.

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most serious people I know.”

“Not in battle, fool!” she snarled, pulling back and stalking away, her blade sheathed with a sharp clang, as you walked bewilderdly back to your tent.

From a short distance, Halsin, who had been watching the training with an amused glint in his eye, stepped forward to intercept Lae’zel. She stopped abruptly, glaring at the druid as if daring him to speak.

“Lae’zel,” Halsin said in his calm, measured tone, “may I offer you some advice?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You may offer. I will decide whether it is worth hearing.”

He chuckled, unfazed. “I’ve noticed your… interest in our leader.”

Her nostrils flared, and she crossed her arms. “And what of it?”

“You are a warrior, and I admire your strength,” Halsin began, “but perhaps your methods of courtship are… misplaced.”

“What nonsense is this?” she scoffed. “I have made my intentions clear. I have praised their competence. I have challenged them in combat. What more is required?”

Halsin smiled gently. “Perhaps a softer touch. Words that reveal your feelings without the shield of aggression. A gesture that shows your care rather than your strength.”

Lae’zel looked utterly baffled, as if he had just suggested she surrender to a mind flayer.

“Softness is weakness,” she spat.

“Not always,” Halsin countered. “Sometimes, it takes more strength to be vulnerable than to wield a sword.”

She opened her mouth to retort but found herself at a loss. Instead, she grumbled something unintelligible and stalked off, leaving Halsin shaking his head with a knowing smile.

The next morning, Lae’zel approached you at camp. There was an uncharacteristic stiffness to her posture, as if she were preparing for battle, yet her hands were empty.

“Leader,” she began, her voice clipped but quieter than usual.

You looked up from your map, offering her that same smile that never failed to undo her. “What’s up, Lae’zel?”

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. For a moment, she considered abandoning this foolishness and returning to her usual methods. But Halsin’s advice echoed in her mind, and she forced herself to continue.

“I… value your presence,” she said, the words sounding foreign and awkward.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, thanks? I value yours too.”

“No, you do not understand,” she snapped, then took a deep breath to steady herself. “I… value you. Your strength. Your wit. Your… idiotic charm.”

Your confusion deepened. “Lae’zel, are you feeling okay?”

She growled in frustration, her hand twitching toward her sword out of habit before she forced it to her side. “Do I need to spell it out for you, fool?”

“Apparently,” you said, still clueless but clearly trying to follow.

She stepped closer, her amber eyes burning into yours. “I desire you, leader. As my equal. My partner. My… lover.”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, you saw Lae’zel in a new light—not just as a fierce warrior, but as someone deeply passionate and utterly vulnerable in this moment.

“Oh,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “Oh.”

Her jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms defensively. “If you find this amusing, I will—”

“I don’t,” you interrupted, a small smile playing at your lips. “I just didn’t think—well, I didn’t know.”

“Because you are blind,” she muttered, though there was no real venom in her tone.

You stepped closer, reaching out tentatively. “Lae’zel, I’m flattered. Truly. And… I’d like to see where this goes.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she looked as though she didn’t quite believe you. Then, with a sharp nod, she straightened her back and let a rare, genuine smile grace her lips.

“Good,” she said simply. “Now, let us prepare for the day. We have enemies to slay, and I will not let them distract you from what is ours.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, warmth blooming in your chest. Lae’zel might not have mastered the art of softness, but in her own way, she was perfect.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart had always been composed, her expression a careful mask of neutrality, but recently, every time she caught sight of you, her calm façade wavered. Her chest tightened, her thoughts scattered, and her usually sharp words became softer, laced with an uncharacteristic warmth. She knew the truth of it: she had fallen for you. Hard.

And yet, despite her every effort to show you her feelings, you remained utterly oblivious.

At breakfast that morning, Shadowheart decided to take another approach. She brushed past you as you prepared the fire, the faint scent of lavender trailing in her wake.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft but laced with what she thought was a hint of allure.

You looked up, smiling warmly. “Morning, Shadowheart. Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, sitting beside you with deliberate closeness. “As well as I could, knowing what awaits us each day. And you?”

“Fine, thanks. Just trying to get this fire going,” you replied, your focus returning to the task at hand.

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re very skilled with your hands. It’s… admirable.”

You blinked at her, utterly missing the meaning behind her words. “Thanks! I guess all those years of camping have paid off.”

Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but she refused to give up. Throughout the morning, she found small ways to stay near you, brushing her fingers against yours when you handed her something, complimenting you with what she thought was a sultry tone, and even laughing at your jokes—some of which, she had to admit, were terrible.

Still, you seemed completely unaware.

By midday, Shadowheart was frustrated beyond measure. She found Karlach near the edge of camp, inspecting her weapons, and stormed over.

“Karlach,” she said, her tone clipped but tinged with exasperation.

Karlach looked up, her fiery heart pulsing warmly. “What’s up, Shads?”

"Please don't call me that," Shadowheart crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve been dropping hints—no, practically throwing myself at them, and they just… don’t notice!”

Karlach blinked, then grinned, clearly enjoying the situation more than she should. “Wait, you’re talking about—?”

“Yes,” Shadowheart snapped, her cheeks tinged with pink.

Karlach let out a hearty laugh, her flames flickering slightly brighter. “Oh, this is rich. You? Pining? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Shadowheart glared at her. “This is not amusing. I need advice, not mockery.”

Karlach wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “Alright, alright. Let me think. So, you’ve been… what, flirting?”

“I’ve tried everything,” Shadowheart admitted, throwing her hands in the air. “Compliments, proximity, even subtle touches. And nothing! They treat me the same as everyone else.”

Karlach hummed, tapping a clawed finger against her chin. “Maybe they’re just really dense. Or, y’know, not used to someone as… uh, mysterious as you.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. “And what do you suggest I do? Write it out in blood on their tent?”

Karlach snorted. “Hey, that might actually work. But no, maybe you need to be more direct. Like, ‘Hey, I think you’re cute, let’s share a bedroll tonight.’”

Shadowheart stared at her, aghast. “I am not saying that.”

“Your loss,” Karlach said with a shrug. “But seriously, just talk to them. Be honest. I bet they’d love it.”

Shadowheart sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Honesty. Of course. The one thing I’ve been avoiding.”

“Hey, they like you for you,” Karlach said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Well, they would if they had half a brain and knew what was good for them. Go get ’em, tiger.”

Later that evening, as you sat by the campfire, Shadowheart approached you with purposeful strides. She was determined to take Karlach’s advice, even if it made her heart pound and her palms sweat.

“Can I join you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

“Of course,” you said, shifting to make room for her.

She hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You turned to her, your expression curious but kind. “What is it?”

Shadowheart opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let out a shaky breath and looked into the fire.

“I… I care about you,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, completely misunderstanding. “I care about you too, Shadowheart. You’re a great friend.”

She groaned inwardly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, I mean I care about you in a… different way.”

Realization dawned on your face, your eyes widening. “Oh.”

“Oh?” she echoed, feeling both vulnerable and absurdly exposed.

“I didn’t—Shadowheart, I had no idea,” you said, your voice filled with genuine surprise and warmth.

“I noticed,” she muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

You reached out, gently placing a hand on hers. “I’m sorry if I’ve been clueless. I guess I just… never thought someone like you would feel that way about someone like me.”

She looked at you, her expression softening. “And why wouldn’t I? You’re… remarkable.”

The sincerity in her voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I guess that makes two of us, then.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You… feel the same?”

“Yeah,” you said, your cheeks flushing. “I guess I was just waiting for a sign.”

Shadowheart laughed softly, the sound lighter than you’d ever heard from her. “Apparently, I need to be less subtle.”

As the fire crackled between you, the tension that had been simmering for so long finally gave way to something warmer, something real. And for the first time in weeks, Shadowheart felt at peace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira was not a woman who pined. Or so she told herself. A High Harper, disciplined and pragmatic, she had weathered countless battles and heartbreaks. Yet, here she was, sneaking glances at you across camp, her chest tightening whenever you smiled or laughed. It was maddening. How had you managed to worm your way so deeply into her thoughts?

Despite her years of wisdom, Jaheira found herself at a loss. She didn’t know how to bridge the gap between the two of you, not without risking her pride or the delicate balance of your group.

The worst part was your complete and utter obliviousness. She’d tried subtlety—lingering conversations, offering you extra help with tactics, even sharing stories of her youth that she told no one else. You simply smiled warmly, thanked her, and went about your day as though her heart hadn’t been laid bare in every word.

One evening, after another frustrating day of yearning and getting nowhere, Astarion finally had enough.

“Jaheira, darling, may I have a word?” Astarion said, sidling up to her as she sharpened her blade near the fire.

“What do you want, Astarion?” she asked, her tone brusque.

He smirked, clearly unbothered by her irritation. “Oh, nothing much. Just to offer my… expert services in matters of the heart.”

Jaheira blinked, her sharpening stone pausing mid-stroke. “What are you talking about?”

Astarion gestured dramatically toward you, where you sat chatting animatedly with Karlach. “I’m talking about your obvious pining for our dear leader. It’s positively tragic to watch.”

Jaheira’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned back to her blade. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion said, rolling his eyes. “You practically glow whenever they’re around. It’s adorable, really. But I must say, your approach could use some… finesse.”

Jaheira scowled at him. “I am not some lovesick fool, and I certainly don’t need advice from a vampire with more charm than sense.”

“Perhaps not,” Astarion said, unfazed. “But consider this: have your current tactics worked? Have they so much as noticed your affection?”

Jaheira’s silence was answer enough.

“I thought so,” Astarion said smugly. “Now, listen closely. You need to be bold. Direct. Use your natural charisma and authority to your advantage. And if all else fails, a little flirtation never hurt anyone.”

Jaheira narrowed her eyes. “I am not a charlatan like you, Astarion. I won’t lower myself to cheap tricks.”

“Who said anything about cheap tricks?” Astarion replied, feigning offense. “Think of it as… a strategic maneuver. After all, you wouldn’t hesitate to outwit an enemy in battle, would you?”

Jaheira sighed, considering his words. As much as she hated to admit it, he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Fine. I’ll listen. But if this backfires, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

“Splendid,” Astarion said, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s start with a little more confidence in your approach…”

The next morning, you noticed something strange about Jaheira. She was… different.

She approached you with a faint smile that seemed just a touch too practiced, her movements deliberate and graceful in a way that reminded you of someone else.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice smooth and measured. “Did you sleep well?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. I did. And you?”

“Perfectly,” she replied, her eyes lingering on you in a way that felt… odd. “Though I couldn’t help but think of our conversation from yesterday. You truly have a fascinating mind.”

You tilted your head, trying to piece together what was happening. Something about her tone, her body language—it was familiar. And then it hit you.

“Wait a minute,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you acting like Astarion?”

Jaheira froze, her carefully crafted façade slipping for just a moment. “I… what?”

“You’re doing the thing he does,” you said, mimicking a dramatic hand gesture. “The suave, overly charming thing. It’s not like you.”

Jaheira’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away, muttering something under her breath.

From across camp, Astarion burst into laughter, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, this is too good!”

Jaheira shot him a withering glare before turning back to you, her expression softening. “Perhaps I’ve been… trying too hard. Forgive me if I seemed unlike myself.”

You smiled, your warmth cutting through her frustration. “You don’t need to try so hard, Jaheira. I like you just as you are.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Then, with a small, genuine smile, she nodded. “Thank you. That means… more than you know.”

As she walked away, Astarion approached, still grinning. “Well, that could have gone better, but at least they noticed you.”

Jaheira shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Never again, Astarion. Never again.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The late afternoon sun hung low, painting the riverside in warm golds and soft shadows. Gale, waist-deep in the cool water, had his arms crossed in front of him as if the sheer act of holding himself together could quell the maelstrom of feelings raging inside. His crush on you was a storm that refused to abate, leaving him with sleepless nights and days filled with longing glances.

From the riverbank, Minthara watched him with a look of abject irritation. Minthara had ordered him to take a dip in the cold water after he had decided to unleash his love-filled ranting unto her ears as they collected water. She assured him she would be fine to take the water back by herself, and when he thought she had left he keenly stripped and waded into the water. But Minthara had not left, no, Gale's lovesick demeanor had created a vendetta against her and she decided to take action.

"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath. She didn’t think it was possible for wizards to get worse, but Gale was proving her wrong. With a smirk, she moved silently to where Gale had left his clothes folded neatly on a nearby rock. With the swift efficiency of a seasoned tactician, she gathered them up and strode back toward camp.

You were enjoying a moment of quiet when Minthara approached, holding a bundle of robes in her arms.

"The wizard is by the river," she said bluntly. "It seems he’s in need of assistance."

You frowned, glancing at the clothing. "Assistance? With what?"

Minthara’s lips quirked into a thin smile. "He appears… indisposed. Perhaps you should go and see for yourself."

Before you could ask more, she tossed the robes into the fire and strode away, leaving you thoroughly puzzled but intrigued. You could have sworn those were Gale's. With haste, you made your way towards the river and when you arrived at the riverbank, you called out, "Gale? Everything alright?"

Gale startled, his head whipping around to face you, his hair slicked back and glistening in the sunlight. Clearly he had been searching for his robes. "Ah, no! I mean, yes—yes, everything’s fine!"

You raised a brow, stepping closer to the water’s edge. "Are you sure? Minthara said you needed help."

At the mention of her name, Gale groaned. "Of course, she did. And I suppose she also absconded with my robes?" He shot a wary glance toward the shore, clearly trying to maintain some distance.

"Unfortunately so. What’s going on?" you asked, scanning the area. Then you noticed the way his face burned red, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "Why are you still in the water? It’s getting late. and the river's current is about to pick up, you need to get out, now."

He hesitated, his fingers flexing nervously beneath the water’s surface. "It’s… complicated."

"Complicated how?" You looked around, spotting no immediate danger apart from the increasing current. "Do you need a hand getting out? I can lend you my cloak."

"You don’t understand!" Gale blurted, his voice cracking slightly. "This isn’t about the cold—or the current. It’s…" He trailed off, visibly warring with himself.

You tilted your head, curious and slightly amused. "Then what is it about? You’re not exactly making it easy to help you."

Gale sighed deeply, sinking a little lower into the water until only his nose and eyes peeked out. Then, in a low, hurried tone, he confessed, "I’m afraid my feelings for you have… manifested in a rather inconvenient manner."

Your brow furrowed. "Feelings for me?"

"Yes!" Gale said, his voice growing more desperate. "Feelings. Strong feelings—romantic, longing, entirely improper feelings for someone as… exceptional as you."

You blinked, the weight of his words settling over you like the warmth of the setting sun. "You—wait. You like me?"

"Yes," he muttered, his face practically steaming despite the cool water. "Which is precisely why I can’t leave this river at the moment."

The realization dawned slowly, but when it clicked, a grin spread across your face. "Oh," you said, fighting back laughter. "Oh."

"Yes," Gale grumbled, his mortification complete. "You see now why this is problematic."

You couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. "So, let me get this straight. You’re saying your feelings are… visible at the moment?"

Gale pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you insist on phrasing it that way, then yes."

You laughed harder, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Gale, that’s not the end of the world."

"Easy for you to say," he muttered. "You’re not the one at risk of a compromising exit."

Still laughing, you crouched by the water’s edge, your cloak in hand. "Come on. I promise I’ll look the other way. Just wrap this around your waist - tightly, and let’s get you back to camp."

Gale hesitated, clearly torn between his pride and the practicality of your offer. The river was rising, and the current becoming less forgiving. He didn't know what would be worse, coming out in this state or having to have you rescue him whilst he was in this condition. Finally, he sighed. "You’re infuriatingly kind, you know that?"

"Only to people I like," you teased, winking at him.

That earned you a small, genuine smile, despite his predicament. Slowly, cautiously, he edged closer to the shore, his blush never fading. You diligently kept your eyes closed, but there was that little devil inside you willing you to take a peak. He wrapped the cloak around his waist, only for you to hear a small, defeated sigh.

"You cannot laugh at me, but please may I request that I carry your shoes back to camp?" He asked, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Wow you must really like me-"

"-The shoes please!"

Still giggling to yourself, you took off your shoes and passed them to him, allowing him to use them as a shield to his nether region.

You were finally able to look at him, his cheeks flushed beet red as he murmured, "I am going to kill Minthara, or at least try to."

"You know, Gale, I think Minthara might have done us both a favor."

Gale groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Never speak of this again. And especially do not encourage her behaviour."

"No promises," you said with a grin, walking beside him as you both headed back to camp. "Perhaps, I might want to get caught short with you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Astarion was not accustomed to being ignored, least of all by someone who had managed to captivate him so thoroughly. Yet here you were, brushing off his every flirtation, every lingering glance, every word dripping with a charm that could make others fall at his feet.

You were different, infuriatingly so. Every smirk, every sly compliment, every touch of his hand to your arm was met with a polite laugh, a nod, or—worse—a casual thanks before you moved on as though he hadn’t just thrown his best seductive lines at you.

For someone like Astarion, whose every move had been meticulously calculated for centuries, this was unbearable. He was practically seething with frustration as he watched you across the camp, laughing at something Karlach had said. He sighed dramatically, slumping onto a nearby log, the perfect picture of a man whose heart was in shambles.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why you might be cautious around him. He wasn’t blind to his own past or the scars it had left on his soul. But this? This obliviousness wasn’t caution—it was sheer ignorance of his very obvious yearning.

And so, out of options and desperately needing help, he did something he never thought he would: he sought out Gale.

Gale was sitting by the fire, absently flipping through his spellbook, when Astarion approached him. The vampire’s usual smirk was replaced with something that looked suspiciously like a grimace.

“Gale,” Astarion began, his voice unusually subdued.

Gale looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Astarion? To what do I owe this… peculiar honor?”

Astarion waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, spare me the preamble. I need your help.”

“My help?” Gale blinked. “What kind of apocalyptic disaster requires my assistance? Surely not something involving a certain someone we both know?”

Astarion’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes. Them.”

Gale set his book down, his interest piqued. “Ah, I see. You’re pining.”

“I am not pining,” Astarion snapped, though the blush creeping up his pale cheeks betrayed him. “I am… strategically pursuing. Subtly, I might add.”

Gale snorted. “If by subtle, you mean utterly transparent, then yes. You’ve been as subtle as a fireball in a wheat field.”

Astarion scowled. “They don’t see it that way. They think I’m just… charming. Which, of course, I am, but there’s more to it than that.”

“And you want my advice?” Gale leaned back, crossing his arms. “Me, the man you’ve spent weeks mocking for my ‘tragic romanticism’?”

“Yes, yes, revel in the irony if you must,” Astarion said impatiently. “But you’re annoyingly good- most of the time, at all this grand gesture nonsense, and clearly, I need a new approach.”

Gale chuckled, a little too pleased with himself. “All right. Let’s see. The key here is sincerity. You can’t just charm your way through this one. You have to show them how you feel.”

Astarion frowned. “And how exactly do I do that?”

“Think of something meaningful to them,” Gale suggested. “An act that demonstrates you understand them, that you care about them deeply. And,” he added with a smirk, “maybe tone down the smirking and innuendo for five minutes.”

The next day, Astarion put Gale’s advice into action—or at least, his version of it. You were sitting by the riverbank, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when Astarion approached you, holding something behind his back.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, his tone softer than usual.

You smiled up at him. “What’s up, Astarion?”

“I, uh… I noticed something the other day.” He cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “You mentioned how much you missed those silly little biscuits from Baldur’s Gate, the ones with the sugar glaze.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I did?”

“Yes, you did,” he said quickly. “And, well… here.” He produced a carefully wrapped package and handed it to you. Inside were a handful of the biscuits, slightly crumbled but still intact.

Your eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“Don’t ask questions,” he said, his smirk creeping back despite his best efforts. “Just enjoy them.”

You looked up at him, touched by the gesture but still utterly oblivious to the deeper meaning. “Thanks, Astarion. That’s really sweet of you.”

He stared at you for a moment, waiting for something—anything—to click. When it didn’t, he sighed dramatically and flopped onto the grass beside you.

“Are you truly this dense, my beautiful fool?” he muttered under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said, flashing you a too-bright smile. “Enjoy your biscuits, darling.”

From a distance, Gale watched the exchange with a shake of his head, muttering, “Some people are beyond help.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Wyll was not used to being ignored, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He prided himself on his charm, his courtly manners, and his ability to woo with a single smile. Yet, when it came to you, all his gentlemanly gestures seemed to bounce right off you like a deflected blade.

He would offer you his hand to help you over rough terrain, only to receive a simple "Thanks, Wyll!" and a cheerful pat on his shoulder. He’d bring you breakfast, perfectly arranged, and you’d compliment him on his “team spirit.” He’d even tried a few subtler lines, but you always brushed them off as his natural charisma, as if his feelings weren’t entirely focused on you.

So, after one particularly frustrating evening where you didn’t even notice how his gaze lingered on you by the firelight, Wyll decided he needed help.

And who better to consult than the camp’s most direct and fearless member, Lae’zel?

Lae’zel was sharpening her sword when Wyll approached, his usual confident demeanor slightly crumpled under the weight of his unspoken affection. She glanced up, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“Wyll,” she said bluntly, “you look as though you’ve swallowed a blade sideways. Spit it out.”

He cleared his throat, glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot. “It’s about… them,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lae’zel’s expression didn’t change. “Ah, the object of your obsession.”

Wyll winced. “It’s not an obsession.”

“Call it what you will,” she said, shrugging. “You pine for them like a fledgling seeking a mate. What of it?”

“I don’t know how to… tell them,” Wyll confessed, his usual eloquence failing him. “They seem entirely immune to my advances.”

Lae’zel snorted. “Perhaps because your ‘advances’ are weak. Soft. You dote on them like a mother hen, not a warrior. If you want their attention, you must assert dominance.”

“Assert dominance?” Wyll repeated, looking increasingly alarmed.

“Yes,” Lae’zel said firmly. “Challenge them. Best them in combat. Show them your strength. Then, when they are weak and trembling, you proclaim your intent to claim them as yours.”

Wyll’s face turned scarlet. “That’s—That’s not how courtship works!”

“Of course it is,” Lae’zel said, waving a dismissive hand. “You prove your physical and sexual prowess through battle. What better way to ensure compatibility?”

Wyll sputtered, his composure unraveling. “I—I don’t think they’d appreciate being ‘claimed’ like a prize after a fight.”

“They would respect it,” Lae’zel insisted. “And likely find it arousing.”

“Lae’zel!” Wyll’s voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, his flames of embarrassment rivaling Karlach’s.

From across the camp, you noticed the commotion and Wyll’s obvious distress. Concerned, you got up and made your way over. “Wyll? Are you okay?”

Lae’zel’s smirk widened as Wyll’s blush deepened. He scrambled to his feet, fumbling for words. “Ah—Yes! Fine! Everything is fine!”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. “Are you sure? You look like you’ve just lost a sparring match.”

Before Lae’zel could open her mouth to make things infinitely worse, Wyll quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you aside.

“Just a minor… disagreement,” he said quickly, his voice cracking again. “Nothing to worry about.”

You gave him a curious look, but his obvious flustered state distracted you from pressing further. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

Lae’zel watched you go with Wyll, shaking her head and muttering, “Coward. They would have respected a proper duel.”

Meanwhile, Wyll was doing his best to calm his racing heart and come up with a less mortifying way to tell you how he felt—ideally without Lae’zel’s "help."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Halsin prided himself on his control, his connection to nature, and his ability to remain grounded in even the most chaotic of circumstances. But when it came to you, all of that composure seemed to dissolve like frost under the morning sun.

You were utterly magnetic to him—your presence so compelling that his heart would stutter every time you entered the same space. He found himself enchanted by the curve of your smile, the warmth in your voice, the kindness in your touch. And it was unbearable. Literally, because every time you touched his arm or leaned in to speak to him, his instincts would flare wildly out of control.

The first time it happened, you’d brushed some stray leaves off his shoulder after he returned from foraging. “Halsin, you’ve brought back half the forest,” you joked, smiling up at him.

Halsin opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a rush of heat overtook him, and— bam—he was suddenly a large, startled elk.

You jumped back with a yelp of surprise, staring wide-eyed at the animal in front of you. “Halsin?”

The elk gave a deep snort, its head hanging low as if mortified.

It happened again not long after, when you touched his hand while passing him a flask of water. This time, he transformed into a wolf, looking up at you with ears pinned back, practically radiating sheepishness.

“Halsin,” you laughed, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears, “you’ve got to warn me if you’re going to do that.”

By the time the third accidental wildshape happened—this time as a squirrel after you had simply smiled at him—Jaheira had had enough.

The older druid cornered Halsin after dinner, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face. “You’re a leader, Halsin. A figure of strength and wisdom. Yet here you are, hiding in fur and feathers because of a crush.”

“It’s not just a crush,” Halsin muttered, his deep voice unusually uncertain. “It’s… consuming. Every time I try to speak to them, I lose myself. They are radiant, Jaheira. I can hardly stand near them without—”

“—turning into livestock, yes,” Jaheira interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re a druid, not a child. Get a grip, Halsin. They won’t notice your feelings unless you make them clear. And for the love of Silvanus, do it without shifting.”

Halsin sighed heavily but nodded. “You’re right. I must face this head-on.”

Jaheira clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go before you sprout wings or something ridiculous.”

Halsin found you sitting by the campfire, a jar of honey and a piece of bread in your hands. The firelight danced across your features, and Halsin felt his heart thrum painfully in his chest.

“Is everything okay, Halsin?” you asked, looking up at him with a concerned smile.

Halsin cleared his throat, forcing himself to remain steady. “Yes, I… there is something I need to tell you.”

You tilted your head, some honey glistening on your lips. “Of course. What is it?”

And that was it. The sight of your lips, the gentle curve of your expression—it was too much. Despite every ounce of willpower he had summoned, Halsin’s body betrayed him. With a flash of light and a muffled groan, he was suddenly a massive brown bear, sitting heavily on the ground.

You blinked, staring at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Halsin! You did it again!”

From across the camp, Jaheira let out a long, exasperated groan, throwing her hands up. “I give up!” she muttered, stalking off.

The bear lowered its massive head, letting out a low huff of frustration. You reached over and gently placed a hand on his fur.

“It’s okay, big guy,” you said, grinning. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

If Halsin could have blushed, he would have. Instead, he let you pet him, resigning himself to the fact that his feelings were much harder to control than he’d ever anticipated.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so so so so so much fun to write !! Especially Gale's icl hehehe. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[thehistoriccemetery]

Bg3 Ladies React to Old Scars

Featuring: Shadowheart, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira

Something finally made it out of the bottomless pit that is my drafts! This was requested a couple times by several people so thank you to all who suggested it!

Shadowheart

She lies in bed next to you, absently tracing your bare back.

She always traces your scars. She’s tells you they are like constellations, worthy of as much worship as the night sky itself.

Tonight, though, she pays special attention to your biggest one, running vertically down your lower back, disappearing only under the seam of your underwear.

This is her tell tale sign she wants the story. She won’t ask or push you to tell, but this is simply her way of telling you she’s ready to hear it, if you’re willing to share.

“That one is…” you trail off and her tracing stills, “a lot. Not that I’m not willing to share, I just need you to know what you’re asking for.”

She places both her hands gently on your shoulders and kisses the top of your spine. You turn to face her and she takes your face in her hands.

“There is no part of your darkness I’m not willing to explore, love,” she whispers. She takes your hand in hers and softly kisses the knuckles.

You take a deep breath, nod, and tell your story. She does not let go of your hand. She doesn’t flinch when you find even the most gruesome details slipping from your tongue.

You hadn’t planned to go as deep as you did. But something about the peace you found in her green eyes compelled you. It was as if they were saying “you can let go now, you are safe.”

So you did. You let yourself fall. And now, lying in bed next to your lover, you were caught.

When you were done, you found yourself unexpectedly gasping for air, not so dissimilar to after climbing a steep hill with too much equipment on your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” she cooed, pulling you against her chest. You find yourself able to match her breathing.

“Thank you for sharing, I know it was not easy,” she kisses your head.

You shake your head into her chest. “I found it was not so hard with you. It doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. Perhaps it’s a burden shared and all that.”

She chuckles a little. “Sometimes you’re terribly cliché, darling. But, I cannot say I disagree. I was taught to find comfort in all recesses of darkness and absence, but, despite my best efforts, I was never able to find comfort in isolation.”

“And what a miracle we’ve found,” you move back to look into her eyes and smile. “A radiant love to pierce the shared darkness.”

Shadowheart smiles and presses her forehead against yours. “I love you. I’ve even grown to love the way you weave your poetic little metaphors.”

“I love you too,” you chuckle and kiss her nose. “And you’ve always loved my over complicated metaphors.”

Karlach

Karlach sat on the bed behind you, who sat cross legged at the foot, reading.

She took the time to examine your largely bare back, as your current outfit left little to the imagination.

Your body, just like hers was painted with scars. You were both mosaics of your past who had no choice to hide the traumas you endured.

She frowns and you feel a tail coil tight around your waist, pulling you back to sit against her. You look over your shoulder to see her, and then scoot yourself in between her legs and rest your back against her chest.

She wraps her big arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder. You hook your arm around her neck and place your hand in her hair.

“Is something wrong, love?” you whisper, kissing the space right next to her long ear.

“Sometimes, I wish things were simpler,” she sighs. “I mean I love smashing the baddies as much as the next guy, but… I wish getting sucked up by the squidies and forced to carry tadpoles wasn’t the best thing to ever happen to us.”

You nod, rubbing your face against hers. “We were born to be fighters, but I wish we hadn’t been forced to be soldiers.”

“It’s like, I love my little nub right? My dad always said it made me look strong. But,” she touches her own chest, “did she have to put her name on my chest?”

“And you, and your…” she traces the branding scar on your collar bone. You catch her hand in yours and press it gently against your lips.

You turn to face her, the pain in her eyes makes your chest tighten. “These bodies,” you gesture between the two of you, “these are ours. Forever. They can’t take that away from us.”

Her hand lands back on your scar. You press your forehead against hers. “And they,” you trace your own scar with her finger. “They can’t take me away from you.”

She pulls you in for a tight hug. You’re almost smothered in her chest.

You knew that even the idea that there was something she couldn’t protect you from was nauseating to her. The idea that she wouldn’t always be there to protect was even worse.

“It’s not fair,” she half cries into your hair. “Why can’t this life be ours forever?”

You take her face in her hands. Sometimes, Karlach beautiful optimism had its limits. It seemed she hit one today.

“It’s not over yet,” you remind her. “We still have choices. We just gotta save the entire world first.”

She smiles weakly. “Save the world. Save each other. Then we can have our little future together.”

You nod. “And we’re gonna adopt the meanest fucking goat Faerûn has ever seen.”

Minthara

One evening, just outside of Baldur’s gate, you and Minthara decided to take advantage of one of the several nooks and crannies Wyrm’s lookout had to offer.

She sat on the elevated edge of one of the abandoned watchtowers, the one you had climbed to after leaving the shadowlands.

You knelt at her feet, looking up at your beautiful goddess of a lover, smiling, naked in the evening glow.

She looks down at you and idly traces a scar that dances across your chest before taking your hand and holding it up to her own chest.

“We match. Feel,” she leads your finger to a short raised scar towards the top of her breast. It is shorter than yours, but likely just as traumatic.

“Such placement, yes? Just above the source of our lives,” she says. “Scars such as these are rarely from battle, as the armor is heavy around the chest.”

She stares wistfully off into the distance, holding your hand over her beating heart. You’re awestruck by her trust in you. To take a place that was once betrayed and allow you to hold it in your hand.

“Would you like to see? Where it came from?” She asks. You nod, and then you feel the familiar tadpole urging you into her mind. You enter.

She shows you everything: her mother, the betrayal, the hurt. It’s almost enough to bring you to tears.

When the vision fades, you see her eyes already fixed on your own. Her hands presses over your heart. She senses the hesitation in your eyes even before you feel it.

“It is okay,” she says. “If you don’t want to go back there I will not push you to do so.”

After a moment, your hand closes around the one she’s placed on your chest. “I can do it. As long as you are with me.”

You close your eyes, allowing her into your mind. You flinch and grit your teeth as you recall the horrors that gave you your scar.

It’s odd, as if the your pasts, like your scars, mirror each other in some way. Two who have been betrayed find trust in one another.

“I do not believe in destiny,” she says plainly. “I do not think things are, ‘mean to be’, as they say. I do not think I have found and loved you in every life.” She takes your face into her hands. “But I am grateful that I have you in this one.”

Jaheira

To Jaheira, scars are simply props to tell kickass hero stories. She takes pride in nearly every one she’s earned.

And she is an excellent storyteller. So everyone is always excited and intrigued to hear them.

You’ve found a lot of confidence and freedom in this mindset: a scar as a prize rather than an imperfection.

However, not all of your scars have the story of hero behind them.

And that just happens to be the case for the long scar that runs across your shoulders, from one to the other.

“What is this one’s story?” She asks while doing your hair one afternoon. “It is from very long ago, yes?”

You nod, carefully not to disturb her hair fixing process. “How can you tell?”

“It has grown up with you,” she answers, though you still don’t know exactly what she means. She goes into more detail. “The scar was not originally this big because you were not this big when you received it.”

“I suppose I was not,” you respond. You nervously play with your fingers. “That one doesn’t have any heroic stories though. You rarely get a hero’s scar on your back.”

She pauses dealing with your hair and bends down to kiss your back. “You were a child. You should not have had to be a hero.”

Your eyes prick with tears. The story had only ever filled you with shame, yet you felt compelled to tell Jaheira anyway.

She continued to silently work on your hair, listening as you spoke.

She finished your hair before you were finished, and move to sit in front of you while you spoke. You hid your face away as you completed your story.

When you were finished, she took your chin in her hands. “Sometimes surviving is the most heroic thing one can do.”

[parvulous-writings]

can i request karlach, jaheira and shadowheart x dhampir bard gn reader headcanons? maybe also platonic headcanons for astarion.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore/flesh, descriptions of eating blood/gore/flesh

Notes:  So I didn't want to go entirely with like, typical dhampir straight off the bat, so I rolled a d8 to see what reader would hunger for! The reader thirsts more for flesh/raw meat than blood, but can be sated with either! I was SO stoked to write this! Sorry if I focus more on the Dhampir side of things, I just... LOVE the idea <3 They might be a bit uneven! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Karlach

Initially, Karlach didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary with you. Sure, you had a... slightly offputting aura to you, but who in your little rag-tag team didn't? You seemed so funny to Karlach - your dark humour complimented her own very well, and she loved that about you. The fact that you were a bard made it all the better; when you weren't regaling the group with various tales, Karlach was making suggestions for insults you could use against opponents. You also taught her an insult or two, mostly because her delivery is always amusing to you.

She knew that you had a few... better than average abilities, but you often dismissed them if anyone tried to bring them up; your speed, your strength - and especially your rather uncanny ability to charm almost anyone to your cause. It's a very helpful skill for you to have, and since you don't want to talk about it, Karlach leaves the topic be.

As you spent more time on the road together, and grew closer, Karlach began to notice a few things about you. Your songs would often dwell on the gore of a tale, and even add it in - like it was something that you couldn't take your mind off of. She brushed it off though - bards always seemed to have something that they would focus on in their songs, perhaps the violence was just your thing, rather than the victory or the romance that other bards tried to emphasise. Even if you weren't the typical lovey-dovey bard that she was used to, she was definitely not complaining when you serenaded her in the evening.

That was her perfect evening - quality time with her lover, snuggled together in her tent, with you quietly playing and singing to her. Even if your songs can be a bit morbid, she loves hearing the sound of your voice.

She also noticed that you didn't often eat with her and the rest of the group - in fact, it was more like you never did. She didn't understand why, though - you always seemed so eager to eat. It was like your appetite was never really satisfied. It took her having to stalk you out into the woods one evening to discover your rather... Unsavoury appetite. The shock she felt at first made her freeze; how would someone rationally react to the sight of someone they loved eating flesh? How would someone react at all, let alone rationally?

Karlach ended up just standing there, unable to take her eyes off of you as your teeth tore into the meat in your hands. Things were starting to make sense to her - your songs focusing on gore was like the mind of a hungry person focusing on food. You were halfway through your meal when you saw the barbarian standing there, and you couldn't help but freeze too - your hunger, or rather the sating of it, was one of the only things that you had actively tried to hide.

"You'd seen us with Astarion - why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?" You thought Astarion's affliction was... Rather simple, in comparison to your own. A vampire, people knew about - a mortal, turned undead by another vampire, fed by blood. When you thought about that, you felt... Worse - your hunger couldn't be sated by blood alone. You had to have flesh as well, you craved it.

And, furthermore, your origins weren't exactly conventional; perhaps for Dhampirs, yes, but in general, not really. Having one vampire parent wasn't brilliant when talking to, well, anyone.

Thankfully, Karlach just about takes it in stride - though she doesn't appreciate secrecy between the two of you, she can kind of understand why you'd wanted to keep it that was for a while; no more secrets though. Lovers don't keep secrets, in her book.

Jaheira

Jaheira's wisdom had immediately set off quiet alarms about you after knowing you for a little while; seeing how you act around people, your constant noticeable hunger, the lot. She never brought it up, however. When your back is against the wall, you need as many allies as you can get, and you were certainly a favourable one, despite your oddities.

She had further inklings when you decided to entertain those taking shelter at Last Light. Your playing was divine - but that wasn't what irked her. What is was, was the more prominent canines that she could quite clearly see when you sang. She tried to blame it on the wine, but deep down she knew it wasn't so. She just didn't want to think that one of her currently most trusted allies was undead. Another reason she pushed it aside for the time being was because she knew it would be foolish to push away what seemed to be her best hope of getting out of the Shadow Curse alive. It was more than foolish, it was downright stupid - in times such as this, you must take every little blessing that you can.

It was during the battle at Moonrise that her suspicions started to be proven correctly. Your speed was unmatched by all but your pale elf companion, your blows hit just as hard as your barbarian friend. Not just that, but she had seen you bite one of your foes whilst in a frenzy of hits.

During the night-long celebration that followed the battle and all it entailed, Jaheira decided to confront you. You had stalked off to some mildly secluded area, just out of sight of the campfire, and Jaheira pursued. There she found a sight, that despite her suspicions, she had not expected. What she had expected was the amount of blood that had managed to smear itself round your face; what hadn't crossed her mind was the sheer amount of flesh that accompanied it. The way you tore into it, fangs first, was near feral - it was certainly a gruesome sight, and the druid was at least glad it was her who had found you, and not anyone else.

"I understand the necessity to hide such a secret from the masses, however, you're not exactly subtle with, well, any of it." Her words were not meant to chastise, but more to guide - she actually wanted to help you a little bit. You were valuable to her - both as an ally and a companion, and she would do near anything to help you. The world was unkind to many beings, dhampirs of course being one of them. She knew she couldn't shield you from all of the adversity you may face, but she could try and help you.

And so she does - or she tries her best, as you all head to Baldur's Gate. She doesn't exactly approve of your tastes now that you've entered the city, but understands that sometimes, needs must. She encourages you to resist if you can, and only take those who truly deserve death if you need to feed.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart didn't think there was too much out of the ordinary with you at first. To her, you were... Just a bard. A bard who mainly sang about violence, battles, and gore. Though, every bard has their gimmick, so she didn't think much more about it. She supposed it was a nice break from the norm of love and ancient legends.

Despite being fairly learned in things that lurk in the night, it took Shadowheart a while to figure out that you were a dhampir - though, she blamed part of that on her memory suppression. But, when she did finally figure it out, she wasn't entirely surprised. The fact that there was also a Vampire and a Warlock in the party... There was little left that would surprise the Sharran.

"I suppose I should have seen it coming... Your ballads about the innards of your foes, your sneaking off during supper... Not to mention your preternatural speed and strength, and those sharp canines of yours... All the signs were there, even if somewhat contradicted by the fact that you're alive. A pity I couldn't see it sooner. Then again... I suppose having two supernatural allies is better than having one, hm? That being said... No more secrets. I can't trust you if you hide things from me."

Despite your... Condition, she's actually very comfortable around you. She was quite perturbed when she caught you mid-feed- "I thought Dhampirs only fed on blood?!" You had to try and explain that in fact, there were many kinds of dhampirs - some had sanguine hunger, similar to their undead counterparts, others like yourself fed on the flesh of a victim, but there were even those who fed on more abstract energy, such as dreams. It was quite a shock to Shadowheart, but she kept her questions to a minimum.

As your journey continues, she asks you to sing to her more and more - often requesting to hear about your favourite things; your home, where your favourite haunt was before the mindflayers, but often, she likes to hear of your finest kills, and the feast that ensues after. She'll often jokingly muse, "Do you ever wonder what my flesh would taste like?" "Sometimes... Though I try not to dwell on the thought for too long... I think you'd taste sweet - aromatic, even... A true, refined delicacy."

She'd laugh quietly, and then ask you to sing to her again as she leans against you. The longer you spend journeying together, the more she comes to trust you. She finds it easier and easier to open up to you, knowing that despite your neverending hunger, you would never turn your fangs towards her... Unless she asked, of course. She likens your struggle to resist to her struggle with her faith to Shar; it's a long, inner struggle that often, you cannot speak to anyone about.

When you get to the city, she does make jokes akin to "I'm sure no one would miss him... Do you think he'd taste good enough?" And wouldn't say no to the idea of you potentially eating members of her cloister, now that they are somewhat after her.

Astarion (platonic)

This man nearly outs you on more than one occasion. He says each time that is it "Merely an accident, a slip of the tongue, if you will... It won't happen again..." But, I can guarantee, it will. It's a near daily occurrence.

This is because that, being a vampire himself, Astarion knows what to look for, when it comes to being around someone like himself. Sure, you don't have the trademark paleness that a vampire often possesses, but you have nearly every other feature. After one full day of travelling with you, observing your behavior, seeing your prowess in battle, and hearing your ballads of blood, guts and gore... He knows. He saunters right up to you, and says it nearly loud enough for the whole camp to hear. You clasp your hand over his mouth, begging him to stay quiet. The last thing you need is to be ousted to your party, when you have no idea how to react.

To begin, Astarion tries to give you tips on how to hide your true nature. After a while of staring at your frankly disinterested face, he realises that there's no point. So, instead you start to discuss the... Finer points of your diets - what tastes good, what doesn't; it's a brilliant bonding point for the pair of you. It's what a lot of your friendship is built upon, and you can't complain about it - it's nice to finally have someone who can understand the insatiable hunger, the need to hide, all of it... Even if he does constantly criticise your ballads for being "inaccurate" when it comes to the descriptions of the blood and the gore. He truly can be a stickler for being right, sometimes. You eventually learn to ignore him, though.

[vibingandsimping]

This is exactly who you think it is. 🦜🦜

Might I request the origin characters (+ Halsin) of your choice caring for a burnt out/sick Tav?

Hello! I shall call you bird anon…

(Leave me and my family alone)

But ask and you shall receive! Requests/thoughts always make my day.

Origin characters + extra companions taking care of an exhausted reader pt. 1

No forewarnings besides maybe some suggestive mentions and a little angst. Mostly all fluff + comfort… barely proofread

Characters included in this part: Astarion, Gale, Lae’zel and Jaheira

Astarion

Astarion, when you present him with the problem after his insistent pestering, is a little lost. Everyone has their breaking points and their limits. You just held a confident front for so long that he started to believe you truly lacked one. He suggests the pleasures of the flesh at first. “To ease that pretty mind,” he claims with a smirk. You can tell in his gaze it’s his default- he was used for his body for so long it’s clear he’s unsure of what else to say. A bit of frustration with both him and his past bubbles up. It hurts to know he values himself that little and at the same time… it’s frustrating that he thinks it will solve anything. After a curt “No thank you.” he seems to deflate a bit. You stalk off to your tent as he watches from afar.

He sat with himself as he contemplated his abilities. You’d done so much for him over the period of time you’d known each other. Quite frankly, he hates to say it but he’s realized he’s taken you for advantage. He reminisces over the times you’d let him feed and he has had his nose pressed into your skin. How he’d inhale your scent and memorize it with your blood. He broods over it for a little before beginning to test different scents and oils. What he believed would work with your body chemistry and what he knew you liked.

It’s an hour or so later when you hear slow footsteps. Whoever it was made their presence known, so as to not scare you with a sudden intrusion. You’d been laying with your head in silence and the dark due to how it throbbed. Everything seemed so loud and overwhelming. He speaks smoothly and announces his arrival, you just grunt in acknowledgment. It seems to amuse him as he laughs gently and places something on the ground. Which? You’re unsure- and you could care less to check right now. It’s only when you hear the flick of a match and the room illuminates that you peek. He has a couple of wax candles laid out that seem to be dripping in mixtures. He smiles at you in such a way that you push suspicions aside. The room flickers with the light of the candles. “Relax. I made these special for you. Just focus on them and let the world wash away.” You watch him for a minute more as he lights the candles and the scent grows stronger as it burns with the wax. At first, it also overwhelmed you. You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and focus on taking deep breaths. With each inhale, you draw more of it into your lungs and feel your muscles slack. Whatever he used was working wonders to calm your body and ease your mind. He did miss his calling as a perfumer.

The feeling of cold hands on your neck tenses your so delicately relaxed frame. His voice comes out in a shush, making you shiver from the tone. The way his fingers move so slowly tells you he’s holding a part of him back. It’s likely the reflex to make things more… intimate. A part of you swells knowing that he is trying a more simple intimacy on you. Thumbs dig into the tense muscles until they’re worked from the stiffness. Soft moans of content escape your throat. Though, just the same are the groans of pain when he reaches a more tender spot. “You’re lucky you have such a caring companion.” He muses half-heartedly, an attempt to make you smile. It did, matter of fact. You’re sure he knows because his movements become more confident. You drop your head back into your pillow and breathe out a sigh. He didn’t say anything but you could feel his eyes on your back. It was quite comforting to know he was there if you needed it. You eventually drift into a half-conscious state as he works your tender flesh. By the time he’s left you to rest you were already asleep.

Gale

Gale’s watchful eye concluded your growing burnout long before it settled in. He was a wizard- a man who studied for a living. He understood frustration and burnout. He’s faced it many times before… and it’s never an easy thing. When you settle down at the camp for the night, he can’t seem to get his eye off you. You walk around slowly and seem out of it. The man sits in his thoughts for a moment longer and decides to make his way over to you. You, of all people, deserved to have a moment to relax and truly replenish your mind. His hand makes contact with your arm and you’re snapped from your daze. He gazes down at you with a softness and silently asks you to follow him. You’re too worn down to argue and just nod.

He winds you out of the forest and towards a still lake. A drinking deer turns and shoots out from its spot when you two arrive. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he bashfully smiles. “Water is soothing to the mind and muscle. I’ll take care of you- let me.” The moonlight dappling the water is tempting and he seems harmless enough with his request. You relent and begin to slowly peel the clothing off your body. Turning back around you stride into the water only to find it pleasantly warm. It was almost hot- glancing up at him as he removed his robe, you knew he tampered with magic to heat the water. You’re not complaining though. It’s already doing wonders to work out the aches in your muscles. He slides in behind you and asks you permission to touch you. You hummed approval as you closed your eyes and put your trust in him.

He lathers his hands with soap and begins to work your muscles along your back. Simultaneously massaging gently and washing you clean. His fingers work from your neck to your shoulder blades, down your spine, and to your legs. He slowly turns you around so he can repeat the same process down your front. He’s careful around your more intimate areas, eyeing you cautiously to gauge what’s too much. It feels nice to be doted on and not have to bathe yourself for once. You’re sure he knows it, too. Then, he whispers for permission to do your hair. You barely speak and instead hum once more. He chuckles a little before wrapping an arm around you and one under your head. He dips you into the water until your hair is thoroughly soaked and pulls you back up. Like that, he begins to lather shampoo into your scalp. His fingers work wonders and you moan a little. The moment is gone too soon for your preference and he’s washing it out.

After a minute more of holding you in the water as he rinses you off, he guides you out. You almost protest like a child, wishing to relish the hot water a little longer. He hands you a large linen cloth and you dry yourself off. Squeezing your hair until it no longer drips annoyingly and wrapping it around yourself to conceal your intimates. He follows alongside you back into camp and you head into your tent. He lingers beside you while you settle down and gather some night clothes. Then, as soon as the eyes are noticed, he leaves you to your own devices. You manage to get to sleep surprisingly easily and the night passes mostly peacefully. In the morning, your previous clothes are folded neatly outside your tent. They’re clean and practically spotless. Gale must’ve taken the time to wash them while you slept and hung them to dry overnight.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel’s instinct is to scold you for showing weakness. Githyanki are warriors and have no time to tend to the frail. Yet, you’ve proven anything but frail in the time she’s known you. She’s utterly torn and wears it on her face obviously. You’re unsure why you turned to her for comfort, it was obviously a mistake. You sigh exasperatedly and trail off as she watches. You almost make it to your tent before her hand wraps around your wrist and tugs you to look at her. “Battle me,” she speaks blatantly. “Githyanki soothe their mind and body with battle. It is all I know to do. Battle me.” There’s a desperation in her voice. She cannot stand to see you so exhausted and fed up. You squint at her and almost protest that all the battling you’ve done is what led you to this point. The expression she held deterred you. You complied in the end.

She leads you into a dirt clearing and unsheathes her sword. Her face is like the steel she holds in her grasp and you ready yourself. There’s a moment of silence and anticipation that hangs in the air as you two lock eyes. She makes the first move, launching towards you and missing the side of your face by a few inches. You retaliate and dig your weapon of choice into her side. She grits her teeth as she is sent sprawling a few feet away. The girl gives you little time to react. Her next attack flies at you and you two are a clash of steel and flesh. There’s an adrenaline that elicits your veins and your head clears. The worries of taking care of everyone fade and you focus solely on your sparring partner. It’s like a second wind that envelops your body. It takes you a few hits until you realize she’s purposefully leaving herself open and using weaker moves.

She was allowing you to win. To taste her blood and victory in battle. You’re almost insulted if it weren’t so flattering that she was laying herself openly for you. You lay a final hit on her and she kneels with her head bowed. The two of you pant as wounds seep blood. Nothing is too deep and can easily be fixed by bandage or magic. She pulls herself to her feet and smiles softly at you. “A formidable opponent. You underestimate your power.” It was her form of a compliment, you supposed. She then followed you back into camp and sat you down. She runs a wet rag along your scrapes and cuts. The crimson washes off and leaves the wounds exposed to the fresh air. The githyanki is gentle in her touch as she wraps them with a bandage and secures it in place. The muscles in your body flex as you test the hold before turning your attention to her. You go to tend her wounds but are met with a hand in your face. “I am fine. I am strong enough to take care of myself. You, on the other hand, need to recover to lead us onward.”

You quirk a brow at her before pulling away and allowing the campfire to warm your bones. She works deftly on sealing her wounds and you can’t help but feel a little rejuvenated. It wasn't pampering of sorts- but she cared. She tried her best to show it and that’s truly what mattered. She fought against her nature to shame you and instead attempted to cure your ailments. She was rough around the edges but had a soft heart. The thought made you smile softly as you watched the shadows of fire dance along her olive-green skin. She catches your gaze for a moment and seems flustered. “Go rest.” She commands softly and you laugh breathlessly. It takes you a moment to get to your feet but you manage it. Some sleep would surely help repair the worst of it as long as you took it easy the next day.

Jaheira

Jaheira was an older elf. She could spot the telltale signs of wear. Whether that be mental or physical. She took care of her harpers for just about as long as she could recall at this point. It felt nice to not have to be the one in charge- but maybe she took too much comfort in it. A little guilt weighed in her heart. Too late to dwell, though, you needed assistance. The crackle of the fire was all that could be heard as you sat in front of it. You were still- seemingly lost in thought. She groaned a little as she lowered herself to a seat. Her knees weren’t as they used to be. The sound alerted your mind and you snapped out of it to look at the woman. She smiled softly at you and handed you a goblet. In her other hand was a bottle of wine and her own goblet. “Do not worry, no funny games this time. Just something to unwind.” You scrunch your nose a little before grabbing it.

The bottle uncorks and she pours a glass for you two. It’s not the finest wine but certainly was much better than the gruel served at the tiefling party. You draw your knees to your chest and take a long sip. After she takes a sip of her own she clicks her tongue in thought. Her gaze isn’t on you but on the campfire as she begins to speak. “You are more powerful than you know,” she begins and you look at her from the corner of your eye. “I’ve seen it firsthand. You vanquished the curse of the shadowlands and defeated Ketheric Thorm. I am surprised you didn’t succumb to exhaustion sooner.” You tense, almost expecting it to be an insult. Her softness of tone betrays that thought. “You need to rely on your friends and company more. We are here to help. We care. I care.” She enunciates the last word by looking at you. You can’t help but feel a soft fuzz blooming in your chest. Was it her words or the alcohol?

“I took care of my harpers for a century or more. It is hard work to look after the well-being of everyone else and yourself. I think I became too comfortable in letting you guide me. I apologize for that, truly.” You open your mouth to speak but she shushes you with a point of her goblet. That gesture makes you flush a little and take a sip of your wine once more. “I have seen many people in my life. I have lost many people in my life. You are among some of the most… wonderful I have seen. I will be damned if I lose you to anything beyond yourself.” She smiles at you, the age lines on her face only speaking to how truthful she is being. You can’t help but feel relaxed by both the influence of the alcohol and her words. You realize anything you say would be practically pointless. So, you just shuffle to her side and press against her. She hums in satisfaction and wraps an arm around you. You can hear her swallowing her wine more clearly. There’s a comfortable silence that is punctuated occasionally by the crackling of the fire.

“Another pour?” She offers as she holds the bottle and you cannot help but laugh while gesturing your goblet. Indulging for a night hurt nobody and hell you deserved it. She refills the two glasses and rests her head against yours. There’s a mutual understanding of comfort and connection between you two as you sip and watch the fire. It’s nice to not have to say anything in return. To be able to simply sit and digest the fact that somebody appreciates the fact that you work so tirelessly for them and everyone around you. It’s only til your goblets empty again does she finally pull away and cork the wine. You stand and allow the buzz of the alcohol to warm your veins and loosen your mind. She offers a hand out with a sheepish smile, “Help a gal up?” you tease her for a minute and grab her hand as she hoists herself off the ground. She regards you with a softness and plants a gentle kiss against your forehead. You two part and head to your respective tents to sleep the night away.

[avocado-writing]

Hi 😊 Can I request the bg3 ladies of your choice (Minthara is my favorite but you may include anyone else you like!) and how they eat pussy please 🤭

hehe Ofc >:) MINORS DNI. FILTH AHEAD

Karlach

she gets overstimulated easily. eating you out is such a turn on for her. when her tongue is between your folds you can hear the way she begins to moan and whine, her hips rutting downwards for stimulation.

it’s easier to ask her to sit on your face and give each other mutual oral; she gets wet super easily, you can taste the enthusiasm for you on her cunt.

technique < enthusiasm. she goes hard and fast with her tongue, burying her face between your legs and practically motorboating you. it’s a lot. it’s good when you get used to it though, and when you cum you hear her go “yes!!!” in triumph.

Lae’zel

vicious. teethy. you will ache afterwards.

likes to suck and bite a lot. you will get bruises on your thighs, stomach, pussy lips.

pretty much bites your clit. you gasp from the stimulation and she just holds you down into the bedroll to bury her face further into you.

you should stroke her hair and ears as she goes though, and you’ll hear her let out a little grunt of satisfaction 💕

Shadowheart

now to be honest she prefers to be pampered in bed, so she likes to receive more than give. that isn’t to say she won’t, though! and when she does…

she won’t stop until you’ve come at least twice from her tongue and fingers. she likes to look up at you from between your legs, focussed on your lust, and she’ll instruct you to moan her name.

a master with her tongue. loves to press it inside of you and see how wet you are for her.

is very smug at the good job she’s done in the afterglow too, lmao.

Minthara

oh gods. probably the best at eating pussy on this list.

when you ask her, or when she moves to start, she gets a sort of wicked look in her eye.

clamps her arms around your thighs and begins to tease you, little kitten-licks, breathing hotly on the wetness of your cunt.

when you can’t take it any more she pushes you further anyway. edging queen. slides a single finger into you to give you some penetration but only moves it slowly to eke the pleasure out.

every time you’re about to come she moves away and has you calm down. you chase her with your hips but she won’t let you.

when you do come? it’s so intense you feel like your soul has left your fucking body. all you can do is chant her name over and over in prayer and watch the way she grins at how she’s undone you.

you will immediately return the favour.

Jaheira

look. she’s done it all. she’s put her time in. she’s been around the block and knows how to eat pussy.

perfect master of giving just enough to drive you wild. pays equal attention to all areas of your cunt. you hear her laugh when you buck your hips into her face for more.

lets you ride your orgasm out on the palm of her hand and you will be thankful for it.

she just smiles and tells you, “good job, little one.” that’s enough to make you come again right there and then.