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Bedtime Tales
Gale of Waterdeep x reader, established relationship
--
You, rather poorly, attempt to bite down on a yawn, and Gale can’t help but frown as he watches you scoop yet another spoon of coffee into your mug.
“Darling?” He asks, tentatively.
“Mm?” You reply over your shoulder from the counter – waiting for the water to boil.
“I am aware you prefer your coffee on the strong side, but surely four spoons will suffice.”
“Four?” You look down – the mug is half full of grounds - apparently unaware of what you were doing. “Oh. I must’ve lost count.”
“I noticed.” He gets to his feet then to stand behind you and wraps a gentle arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest before stooping a little so he can rest his chin upon your shoulder. “What’s going on in that sweet mind of yours, hm?”
“Nothing.” Another poorly concealed yawn.
“Did you not sleep well?”
You hesitate for a moment and consider a lie – it would be harmless, wouldn’t it? – but you lack the energy to put in the effort.
“I don’t think I did at all last night – just tossed and turned until dawn.” You’d felt tired, running errands all around Waterdeep the entire day but your mind hadn’t settled, jumping from thought to thought.
“Oh, love...” Gale presses a long kiss against your temple and relishes the feeling of you finally relaxing into his hold. He wished he could whisk you back off to bed, a day of cuddles, wrapped up in blankets but - as the clock chooses that moment to so cruelly chime - he has a cohort of students awaiting his teachings at Blackstaff Academy.
“You should go.” You turn and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
He takes a moment to brush a stray piece of hair from your face, concealing a frown at the dark rings under your eyes – perhaps this was not the first night of poor sleep you’d suffered – and smiles. “I love you more.”
--
You’d been quiet through dinner, despite Gale’s open-ended questions to try and get conversation flowing. He’d suggested the two of you retire earlier tonight than you usually did and you hadn’t protested. After a teasing kiss goodnight, you’d rolled onto your side, chasing sleep…
It’s the sound of a stifled sob that wakes Gale with a start.
“Darling?”
The sound stops with a hiccup, as you press your face deeper into the pillow, hoping he’ll drift back off to sleep.
No such luck though as Gale only murmurs a cantrip to light the lamps surrounding the bed with a soft glow.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You sniff, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand. “I can go sit on the balcony and-“
He grabs your wrist, worried you’ll vanish in front of him. “You will do no such thing – I’d never dream of it. Please, what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know.” You take a deep, exasperated breath. “I’m just… I’m so tired that I’m beyond it. My eyes sting from being open, they sting even when they’re closed, but I just can’t sleep. There’s too many thoughts in my head, it’s worse than the damn tadpole.”
“I could cast sleep-” He reaches for your hand.
“No.” You answer, abruptly, and he’s a little startled by the aggression in your tone. “Sorry. I know you would mean well by it, but from having it cast upon me in the past… it was never a pleasant nor restful experience.”
He frowns, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. There’s so much he needs to learn about you - still a little guarded about events that transpired before him and the nautiloid.
“My apologies, my love. I did not mean to bring up any bad memories.”
“No, I know.” You squeeze his fingers. “I’ll be all right.”
He mulls for a moment, before an idea comes to mind. “I might have a cure. No magic required either.”
You smile, still tired, but gather enough strength to tease. “But you love magic.”
“Whilst I am rather fond of it, there are proven alternatives to such quandaries as this.” He shrugs. “When I was a young boy, trying to read every book known to man, my head too grew busy with thoughts. Though perhaps I was just too excited to sleep, I think we should still give it a go.”
“What is it?” You roll over onto your side, clutching the pillow to your chest.
“My mother used to read to me and, if you’ll permit me, my darling, I would love to do the same for you.”
You squeeze the pillow, casting your eyes down. “Mm, I’ve never been much of a reader before bed.”
“Ah, I have noticed.” How could he not? There was only one side of the bed that had a stack of tomes piled high besides it. “But being read to is quite different, I assure you. Would you care to try?”
You consider the idea for a moment. “All right. There’s nothing to lose, I suppose.”
“And, hopefully, sleep to gain. Hm, what do I have that would suit…?” Gale turns to the side, scans through the pile, before snatching one from the middle with a deft hand - you’re surprised the whole thing doesn’t topple. “Perfect. One of my childhood favourites, in fact.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And you still read it?”
Gale shrugs a shoulder, half-heartedly. “I like to indulge every now and again.”
“What is it?”
He turns the cover towards you – a fine leather tome, purple, with gold lettering. “The very creatively titled Baldurian Tales of Wonder. It’s a collection of short, whimsical stories – happy endings guaranteed.”
He places the tome between the two of you before turning slightly and fluffing up his pillows. Once seemingly satisfied, he sits up a little more and spreads his legs. “Come, get comfy.”
“You want me to…?”
“Mm-hm. You’ll want to see the pictures, naturally.”
“Naturally,” you repeat. “Not anything to do with you wanting me cuddled against your chest.” Gale does not respond, only raises a knee with a gentle click so you can slide over and nestle down against his bare chest.
He slides his knee back down and picks up the tome, resting it on the blanket covering the two of you, and flipping to the first tale.
“Once upon a time-"
“Are you going to do voices?”
He chuckles – it rumbles comfortingly through your back and you unconsciously relax once more into his embrace. “Would you like me to do voices?”
“Did your mother do voices?”
“She… tried her best.”
“Voices, please.”
He presses a kiss to your temple. “Voices it is.”
He begins to read, slowly and softly, being sure not to get too carried away with the characterization of certain characters. His voice is comforting, reassuring, and though your eyes still sting, you try your best to focus on the words and pictures in front of you, your mind finally becoming quiet, your eyes beginning to close…
Gale does not even make it to the end of the first story when he hears your breathing change, though he continues to read it aloud.
Just to be sure you’re truly asleep, that is, not because he wishes to finish the tale.
---
I had a bad day and I wanted some cuddly fluff x
#ghostdogwrites#gale dekarios x reader#gale dekarios x you#gale dekarios fluff#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale of waterdeep x you
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I saw you did a new submission for Astarion. Is it okay if I ask for another thing for Astarion who’s very submissive and whiny for your touch?
Hi anon! I hope I did your request justice. I was feeling a little angsty today and this is what came out. Feel free to submit another request if this didn't scratch your itch, so to speak.
As always, comments and reactions are appreciated.
xoxoxo
Bring Me Back
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), slight hand/finger kink, body worship, mentions of blood & gore, trauma/trauma response, disassociation, fluff and angst and smut, p0rn with a little plot.
Summary: Astarion just needs some love and comfort from you after a particularly brutal fight.
*****
There was blood on his hands. Too much. Dried and crusted, saturating the wrinkles around his knuckles. He sat on the edge of the bed you were sharing, hands limp in his lap.
He’d killed so many today. You all had, but he more so than anyone else. It had been a vicious battle, the reality of which seemed to be sinking into his bones now.
“Astarion?” you ventured carefully. You were carrying in a water pitcher and basin you had pilfered from the cook’s quarters downstairs.
He didn’t seem to register your voice. You tried again, moving cautiously to kneel on the floor before him.
“Astarion?”
“Hmm?” he responded, his glassy eyes finally sharpening enough to take you in. “Oh, apologies, darling. My mind… it must’ve wandered.”
“Are you feeling all right?” you probed in a low murmur.
“I feel…,” he trailed off, his head shifting to stare vacantly out the dingy window near the bedside. “Numb.”
“Numb?” you echoed.
“Mm. Disconnected, more like,” he amended distractedly.
“Hm, I see,” you replied, unsure of what more there was to say.
Certainly you could understand the feeling. And certainly it was justified, after the carnage you all had wrought today. No matter how noble the cause, things had still ended in a tide of blood and viscera.
You were at a loss for how to comfort him. But the rational part of your brain settled on addressing the most immediate problem before you. Namely, the blood on his hands.
“Astarion,” you soothed, waiting until he turned back to look down at you again. “I’d like to clean up your hands before we rest.”
He stared at you blankly. Then slowly, his gaze drifted down to his hands. He turned them over, palms up, studying them absently.
“Is that okay? Can I touch you?” you pressed.
You knew his displeasure in being touched without warning. You’d seen his reactions frequently enough, on the road with your other companions. Each clap on the shoulder from Gale. Each good-natured shove from Karlach. His response was subtle, but not lost on you. He would grimace and shrink away. Every time.
“Touch me?” he repeated now, brows upturned.
“Yes,” you nodded. “To clean your hands of the blood, love.”
He shuddered. You watched as his fingertips twitched. His bottom lip trembled.
“Please,” he uttered in a broken plea.
You nodded again and set to work. Gingerly, you lifted each hand, cradling it with reverence. You passed the rag soaked in tepid, rose-scented water over each digit, in between them. You swiped under each nail, over each knuckle, clearing his fingers of blood, one by one. You soothed over his palms, over the patchwork of calluses on the pads of fingers, over the delicate skin of the backside of his palms. He watched you in silence as you carried out your cleaning, mesmerized.
The basin was colored deep crimson by the time you finished. Grabbing a dry cloth, you patted his hands dry. You squeezed them both gently before moving to release them. You prepared to stand and get yourself ready for rest.
But Astarion stopped you. His hands, once limp while you were caring for him, suddenly clutched yours desperately. Your eyes whipped up to meet his in surprise. They were limned in tears that had yet to fall.
“Please,” he whispered in a desperate sort of voice. A whine, almost. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop touching me.”
You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to make of his plea.
He plunged ahead at your reticence. “I can’t… I want to be here. In this moment. But I can’t find my way back,” he croaked.
His voice, so broken, so desolate, was rending your heart in two. It was more than you could bear.
“Touch me,” he begged. “Bring me back. Please.”
You nodded, never breaking eye contact, as you rose from your crouched position on the floor before him. Tears streamed silently down both of your faces. Neither of you made a move to wipe them away.
Slowly, carefully, you urged him to shift back on the bed as your legs parted to straddle him. Perched atop his lap, you threaded your fingers through his silvery locks. Pulled on them slightly. Tugged at them until he groaned.
His hands grasped your hip bones, hard enough that you were sure there would be finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t mind. You would cherish them, those marks from your lover.
“Come back to me, love. Come back to me,” you whispered in between hot, open-mouthed kisses. Your tongues danced together, like old friends.
You nipped at the hollow place near his clavicle. You sucked on the skin where his neck met his shoulder. His needy, breathy whines only goaded you further. You hoped the fire that was igniting in your veins would transfer to his. If the way his hips were canting into you was any indication, you were both tinderboxes itching to be set ablaze.
“Be here. Be here, in this moment with me,” you crooned in his ear, rolling your hips into his. You were both still fully dressed, but your bodies crested and fell together in perfect timing. A practice performance for what was to come.
“Yes, yes,” Astarion keened, as you slipped a hand to brazenly rub the flat of your palm against his erection. The fabric of his breeches was strained to the point of stretching.
“I’m here,” he panted. “I’m here.”
“Good, stay with me, I want to taste you,” you whispered. “Come back to me, let me taste you.”
“Fuck, please,” he moaned, his head drooping onto your shoulder. He was so pliant in this moment, like putty in your hands.
“Lie back,” you ordered, nudging him backwards with your body. “Untie your breeches.”
“Yes,” he agreed, all too eager to follow your command. Chest heaving, he reclined further back onto the bed. His fingers quickly set to work on freeing himself from his leathers.
“That’s it, darling, yes,” you cooed, watching him bare himself before you. “Stay here with me. Watch me. Watch me keep you here.”
“Gods, yes, yes,” Astarion whined, lifting his head to witness you take him fully in your mouth.
“Fuck,” you heard him bark wantonly above you. Felt his hips cant himself deeper into your mouth, until your lips were meeting the base of him.
His dulcet whimpers and moans were music to your ears. As you worshiped him with your mouth. As you caressed him lovingly back into his body, back into this moment, back into this bed with you.
You could sense he was close to climax as his hands gripped your hair tighter and tighter. You swirled your tongue around him with greater fervor, teasing him closer and closer to the edge.
“Let me come in your mouth, please, darling, please,” he keened, hips bucking erratically against you.
Refusing to bring him down from this high with words, you met his eyes and nodded your assent, gripping his thighs tighter as if to say go on then, love.
And he did. He spilled himself down your throat in delicious pulses. You swallowed every bit, relishing his release as if it were your own.
With a soft pop of your lips, you released him. Licked him clean, before stretching out to lie on the bed beside him.
His chest was heaving as he recovered. You delicately traced the muscles of his abdomen as he came to. After a few moments, he lifted a hand to clasp your fingers. Stilled them with his own as they interlaced on his chest.
“Did you find your way back?” you whispered.
He turned his head to look at you. His lips upturned in a quiet, muted sort of smile.
“Thanks to you,” he returned quietly. “I’m here again. Here with you.”
#dancingbirdiewrites#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#astarion bg3#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 astarion fic#astarion#astarion smut#astarion baldurs gate#astarion x f!reader#astarion romance#baldurs gate 3#bg3 smut#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 x reader#bg3 fic#astarion my beloved#soft astarion
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My Lover is Like
hey remember how i said i'd write that fic about tav coming from a noble background and having a riddle that someone has to answer to date her and no one ever gets it right and then years later she tells gale and he knows immediately? anyway here it is
There are certain scents that bring back memories - warm grass on a summer’s day, fresh linens placed on a bed, and of course, the sickly sticky burn of a bottle of plum fizz, shared among friends. Astarion recoiled after he sniffed the open bottle, his nose scrunched in horror.
“You can’t be serious,” He said.
“You’re being dramatic. It isn’t that bad,” You replied.
You had found a crate full of bottles on your last trek and dragged it back to the campsite, anticipating a heroic welcome at your generous haul. It was nearing sunset and it seemed as good of a time as any to see what the contents of the crate were. Upon cracking the crate open, your eyes lit up at the sight of bottles on bottles of plum fizz. This had been the drink that defined your adolescence as a noble in Baldur’s Gate. It immediately brought back memories of revelry, singing songs next to bonfires, and a young Wyll Ravengard throwing up in the street. You pulled out a bottle and handed it to Astarion, who had reacted like a man who never knew the joys of noble debauchery.
“It smells like it could raise something from the dead and then kill it again,” He said, handing the bottle back to you.
“Look, we used to drink this all the time when we were kids. It’s like a rite of passage among children of nobility in Baldur’s Gate.”
Wyll, overhearing the conversation, came over to see what you were so impassioned about. At the sight of the bottle in your hand, he recoiled like someone had just smacked him upside the head.
“No. Get that thing away!” He shouted, shaking his hands.
“Oh, stop it. I remember you used to beg to play fizzy hands when we were younger,” You said.
“Fizzy hands.” Astarion said flatly, “What sort of braindead activity is fizzy hands?”
You raised your brow to Wyll, who explained that “fizzy hands” was the beloved drinking game of your youth, where a small magical seal was applied to two bottles of plum fizz, which an individual would hold. The seal wouldn’t break until both bottles were consumed.
“Fizzy hands leads to fizzy guts, which leads to…a fizzy mess, in the street. You couldn’t pay me to take a sip of that now.” Wyll said.
You looked around the campsite and gestured to Gale, who had been beginning the preparations for dinner so intently that he hadn’t noticed the failing case you were trying to make in favor of plum fizz.
“It’s nice to know that your taste in wine is nearly as bad as your taste in men,” Astarion mused, causing you to shoot him a farcefully menacing look. Your affections for Gale were no secret, and the two of you had shared an intimate moment in the Weave, but you were unsure of your current status, or even whether he really returned your feelings. You had begun to write it off as a passing fancy, something to daydream about during long days of traveling. Though, there was no hiding how much you enjoyed being around the man, your conversations often dragging well into the night after everyone else had fallen asleep. You had never met anyone else who seemed to understand you the way that Gale did, or whose company you enjoyed nearly half as much.
“You’re a man of taste, and you’re knowledgeable about wine. Can you settle a debate for us?” You asked Gale when he walked over.
“A glass of wine sounds delightful this evening. What’s the topic of debate?” He asked.
“Astarion and Wyll may not be as cultured as you and I. Just tell them about the fine properties of this blend,” You said, trying to communicate ‘please, say this tastes good’ in your expression as you poured a glass and handed it over.
Gale swirled the glass and his eyes widened at the scent. To his credit, he took an honest sip and racked his brain for something kind to say about it. “It has notes of…berry. And cinnamon. And…” He couldn’t do it. “Acid. It tastes like it would eat a hole through a table if you spilled some on it. Do the youth of Baldur’s Gate really ingest this willingly?” He asked.
You threw your hands up.
“Poor taste, the lot of you. It cannot be helped.”
After dinner, Astarion sauntered over to you, two glasses of plum fizz in hand.
“A drink together. Sort of a truce,” He said.
You were suspicious, but took the glass in hand. The spicy, bitter, sweet, and confusing concoction ran down your throat and made your stomach feel hot. Astarion’s glass was already empty, and he poured you both another. By the time you realized that Astarion had been pouring his drinks out to get you to continue drinking, you were drunk enough to begin telling stories of your youth in Baldur’s Gate.
“So, after Wyll threw up in the street -”
“Can you please stop talking about that. I have plenty of embarrassing stories I could tell at your expense, you know. Lock.” Wyll said pointedly.
“Lock?” Shadowheart asked.
You covered your face, feeling a burning sensation creep up your cheeks.
“What none of you realize is that our beloved companion here was once the most eligible bachelorette in Baldur’s Gate nobility. Her family was wealthy and she was beautiful, intelligent, and charming…”
“Whatever happened?” You asked, making yourself laugh.
“However, she never took a partner. Singles of all creeds, genders, and races tried, but no one could get through to her. So, she began to be known as ‘the lock of Baldur’s Gate’. And, what opens a lock but a key? And the key to her heart was to answer a riddle,” Wyll explained with a dramatic flourish.
“A riddle? How droll. That’s a little…presumptuous, don’t you think?” Astarion asked. You shrugged.
“Why a riddle?” Karlach asked.
“I didn’t want to end up with someone who was a complete dunce,” You joked. It was a half-truth, since the whole truth would have disrupted the mood of revelry among your companions.
“Well, do we get to hear it?” Shadowheart asked.
You leaned back and looked at the faces of your companions. Wyll shook his head, having heard this question lamented among the singles of Baldur’s Gate throughout his youth.
“What is loving Taglath like?” You asked, the question rolling off of your tongue like a well-rehearsed line.
“What a stupid question!” Astarion huffed, rolling his eyes. He had no idea what the answer could be.
“Oh, do you know the answer, then? Since it’s so stupid,” You said, unable to wipe the smirk off of your face. It always delighted you to stump someone with the riddle, and it delighted you even more to watch them struggle with it.
“What is loving like?” You repeated, prodding Astarion for the answer.
“Darling, loving you is like poison seeping through my veins,” Astarion said, pretending to be a romantic poet, his hand gripping his chest, “- and it kills me to be parted from you,” He added, taking your hand in his icy cold grasp.
“Very sweet, but no,” You responded.
Everyone laughed, getting a little chuckle out of Astarion’s foolishness.
“Oh come on, it’s not like any of you geniuses know the answer,” Astarion said, raising a brow to the group. He looked around at their curious faces and wonders aloud, “Do you?”
“Uh, I don’t remember my childhood. Much less silly poems,” Shadowheart said, but thought about it for a moment. “Is it like a rose? Something beautiful out of the dirt?”
You shook your head.
“Chk. This is a waste of time,” Lae’zel said..
“C’mon, Lae’zel, what do you think loving is like?” Wyll probed, the githyanki rolling her eyes at him.
Lae’zel replied, “Like a well-won battle, your enemies dead at your feet.” There is a pause before she asked, “Did I answer correctly?”
“No,” You replied.
Karlach wiped her hands on her pants, not waiting to be asked. “You’re barking up the wrong tree if you ask me, solider,” She said, “But I’ll give it a try. Is it like a cool drink of water on a hot night?”
“That’s sweet, Karlach. It’s own little poem, even. But no,” You said.
“Well what’s the answer?” Astarion huffed, getting frustrated at this little display of ignorance.
“Salamander!” Wyll interjected, snapping his fingers like he cracked the code. This made everyone crack up, to his dismay. “No, because - I mean, uh - well, it’s better than corpses!” He insisted. This only made everyone laugh more.
In this revelry, no one even thought to glance at Gale, who had been watching the scene with a bemused little smile on his face.
There was a lull when the laughter died down, the silence of everyone taking a breath after a hearty laugh.
Through the silence, two words cut through the air like a knife directly to your heart.
“The Sun.”
You gasped (a reaction that, in retrospect, embarrassed you with how dramatic it was). You stared at the speaker, Gale’s dark eyes glinting in the firelight. You felt you must have looked ridiculous, your jaw agape.
In all of the years of telling the riddle, no one had ever known the answer. The key to your heart, you joked. But it had been more serious than you ever let on. As each suitor fumbled through wrong answers, it had only solidified your belief that true love would never be yours. That you would eventually have to settle for someone who couldn’t really understand you.
It was like time stopped, the visions of your companions becoming a blur as Gale came into focus.
Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be blissfully unaware that he had just broken your brain (what was left of it, at least).
“That’s…right. How did you know?” You choked out, hardly above a whisper.
“It’s a very clever riddle. See, most would probably assume that the riddle is about the works of Taglath, whom is renowned as an iconic romantic poet. His works adorn his lover with brilliant metaphors that have captured readers since their inception,” Gale explained to the group, lecturing his never-be students.
“That’s probably why Gef Deldus spent one summer immersed in Taglath’s works,” Wyll recalled, chuckling, “He told everyone that he had solved the riddle. He was convinced you would be his bride by the end of the season. What was his answer?” He asked.
“Love is like a poem,” You replied, still dumbfounded by Gale’s answer.
“The education in Baldur’s Gate leaves much to be desired,” Gale snarked, then continued, “What most people don’t know is that Taglath’s most prominent muse was another poet named Alanis. Unfortunately, most of her work has been lost to history. Almost no complete works remain, and only fragments have been collected for publication. But in her most complete work, she compares her lover to the Sun. It’s a gorgeous poem about loving someone who burns brightly and the fears associated with taking a lover of prominence. Loving despite fear,” He said.
You wondered how it was possible that your body felt like it was on fire but also like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Did none of your companions notice that you were going insane? The realization rocked you like an earthquake.
Gale Dekarios was not a passing fancy, someone to think about kissing when the option presented itself. He was neither a daydream nor a wet dream to pass the time at different hours. He was not the greatest friend you had ever had, the person who you most looked forward to speaking to each morning after you woke and each night before you went to bed. The person who you spoke about nothing and everything with, played games with, or just enjoyed a comfortable silence with. He was not your traveling companion, nor even an ally who had risked his life for you as you had done for him. It was impossible for Gale to be any one of those things because he was all of them all at once and so much more.
Oh, fuck, you realized, your knees ready to give way.
You were in love with him.
The sound of your companions laughing and chattering together mixed together and sounded like ocean waves. If anyone turned to ask you anything you probably would have just stared at them blankly. You attempted to take a step toward Gale and the drinks you had earlier in the night went to your head, sending you tumbling forward and onto the ground.
“Looks like the plum fizz kicked in. ‘Key’, maybe you should take the ‘lock’ to bed,” Shadowheart said to Gale.
You thought that if you closed your eyes, maybe the ground would swallow you up and you would never have to look at Gale again. Instead, you felt him help you to your feet, allowing you to lean against him as he walked you to your tent. You were desperate to know what was going through his mind - did he realize the gravity that he answer had?
“Easy now,” Gale said, helping you down onto your bedroll. He treated you gently, helping you to unlace your boots and get settled in under the blanket. You were sick to your stomach at being doted on by him and kept quiet, trying to focus on anything but the way he looked at you. He left for a moment and came back to bring you some water.
“Is there anything you need?” He asked.
You were quiet for a moment, then spoke.
“Gale?”
“Yes?”
“After we had that moment in the Weave…you mentioned that we shouldn’t talk about it then, with the orb being unstable and everything going on,” You said, then allowed yourself to lean into your own intoxication, asking what was truly on your mind. “Was that really the reason? Because if you don’t see me that way, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.” The words poured out of you too quickly for you to worry about sounding insecure. It was a lie, of course, that it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. Being rejected by Gale would be devastating.
Gale looked thoughtful, then recited the end of Alanis’s fragments of her poem about her lover.
“My lover is like the Sun, Brilliant and bright He eclipses me And yet I yearn
My lover is like the Sun Blinding and unyielding When he touches me I burn”
He placed his hand on your cheek, his gaze looking through you and into your soul. The two of you could say so much without a single word.
“Am I the Sun, or are you?” You asked.
Gale had loved the poem when he read it as a boy, and later thought of it often when he was with Mystra, trying to make sense of the reality of having a goddess for a lover. He had often wondered if he would ever have an identity outside of being Mystra’s chosen, or whether he would forever be tied to the Goddess. And if that was the case, why did the idea of it make him burn with jealousy?
However, the poem had taken on new meaning since he met you. He felt like the Sun, a ball of fire ready to explode in his chest at any moment. As badly as he wanted to hold you close, he knew that doing so would destroy you. Still, he wondered, might it be worth it to burn if he could have one moment of knowing what it was like to be yours entirely?
Or rather, were you the Sun? He was certainly transfixed by you, drawn to your brilliance. You, a mortal who dared to be more brilliant and enticing than his Goddess. Would following you lead him down the path to certain doom - or worse, would getting close to you lead you to your own demise? It was that thought that kept him up at night, wondering if he should escape in the night. To save you from himself, or at least get you as far away from the danger as possible.
Gale contemplated your question.
“I’m not sure,” He finally replied.
“I don’t know, either.”
You placed your hand on Gale’s, your gaze fixed on each other, searching for an answer in each other’s eyes. Neither of you could find it.
However, there was one thing that was clear to both of you: whether through flames of salvation or damnation, you would burn for each other.
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Astarion x Tav || bed sharing
one forever won't be enough
synopsis: it's a habit they picked up from travelling together. every so often, astarion came to tav at night. it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even if he'd really rather not admit it. instead of lying in his old bunk, astarion chooses not to be alone.
an excerpt of "'cause my love (is mine, all mine)"
word count: 1203
pairing: astarion/tav
other tags: f!reader, bed sharing, tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, late night conversations, friends to lovers, song inspo: where do i begin by Egg
ao3: here
concept: bed sharing
At night, Astarion lies in his old bunk. It’s rough, grating, and it creaks every time he shifts, and he’s pretty sure he couldn’t enter trance even if he tried. It’s telling that he would rather lay on a bedroll laid over hard rock than ‘his’ own bed, but the last time he laid in this bed, he was still a slave. Just Cazador’s spawn.
Somehow, it feels even emptier than back then. He doesn't have Petras sleeping in the top bunk, snoring loud enough for him to kick the mattress above. He doesn't have Dalyria in the bunk beside him, hiding a light underneath her sheets while she dove her research into the next topic. There isn't Leon in the corner, whispering sweet comforts to his little girl, Victoria. It’s too quiet all on his own.
Then, even with his new companions, he can't hear Gale patronizing Wyll about this or that kind of magic, he can't hear Karlach playing with Scratch or the Owlbear, and there is no occasional thump of Lae’zel’s late-night training. He had gotten used to all of it as some kind of white noise for the next dawn.
Besides, he thinks, he should get used to his nocturnal schedule again, so staying awake wouldn’t be too bad. It would keep the nightmares away, at least. He had enough of Cazador. He thinks of Tav, who he hopes is sleeping peacefully away.
In the dark, he has to confront the reality that he and Tav are worlds apart. He wonders if she’ll be able to adapt to this schedule.
The door to the Favoured Spawn room opens, the room that Tav had taken, with a quiet creak that only Astarion would hear. Then, the mattress dips, and a hesitant arm wraps around her waist and pulls Tav in as someone nestles in close.
“Mm… still awake, Star?” She mutters, though he’s more surprised to hear that she’s still awake.
“Yes.” Astarion replies in a whisper, because it feels like the night calls for whispers, even when the entire palace is empty.
It’s a habit they picked up from travelling together. Every so often, Astarion came to Tav to sleep. Tav knows that it first started after he first drank from her and she found herself exhausted enough to slip unconscious; but it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even though he’d really rather not admit it. Tav thought it would end after Astarion made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she decided to be friends, rather than lovers. It seemed to be what he needed at the time, but she also knows that this—whatever this is, lying in bed together, in the dark, holding each other and whispering—isn’t really something friends do. Astarion has never had any friends, but even he suspects this is something that is beyond friendship.
But this isn’t sexual, either. He can't think of a single conquest who he had done this with because this felt too vulnerable. This felt like a different reality, reframing what it meant to find comfort in the dark.
With a sigh, Tav turns around to face Astarion. He sees her eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep, and he brushes some hair out of her face. It’s never as awkward as it should be.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to face them.” Astarion whispers, truthful and defeated, because holding Tav in the darkness brings about a whole different world around him; one where he can tell Tav anything.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Star.” She says, and it does something to his chest when she whispers his nickname in that tone, with that softness of sleep tinging her voice.
Astarion huffs out a whisper of a laugh. “I do want to. They’re… something like family, after all. They’re the closest thing I have to love.”
“I love you,” she protests, her voice still quiet. He knows this is not what friends do. They are in bed holding each other, now declaring love for each other, in the comfort of darkness. Astarion has never had anyone he had been this intimate with, even in the throes of passion, and he feels that he should think more about what this means.
“Fine, then. They’re the closest thing, other than you.” He drawls affectionately, feeling a tug at his lips even as he rolls his eyes. “But still, they’re not like you. I’m not like you. I can’t be good like you, and I’m afraid they know that. It feels like I’ll have to solve all of this world’s problems to be worthy of forgiveness, and even then, they would be right not to give it to me. They might never forgive me.”
“Then they’d be fools, the lot of them.” She says, and though she still sounds asleep, her eyes look at him with a sincerity he knows. If there’s one consistency about Tav’s behaviour, it’s that she has no patience for fools, and he can’t help but laugh.
A silence passes through them for a moment. “Do you think I’m evil?”
“No.” She says. “Even I’m not nearly as good as you think I am. Out of the two of us, you’re far more special. You make me think anything is possible.”
It’s odd because he can imagine saying the exact same thing to her. He wonders if she was just reading his thoughts and saying the words out loud, and if it was some sort of byproduct left by the mind-reading tadpole. But then again, he can’t at all understand why she would think he was special, and if they did still have the tadpoles, he would wish to see himself through her eyes. He wants to see what she sees in him—this brave, dashing, kind, supportive, heroic man, capable of love and goodness.
He wonders what would happen if he kissed her.
Not that he was particularly sexually attracted to her, though he admits that objectively, she is attractive. He has a working pair of eyes and a good sense of taste, after all. And honestly, he doesn’t even know if she’s attracted to him—he thinks she might be, because Astarion hadn’t met many people who weren’t, but she also never asked him for anything sexual. Even their first night together, he always wondered if she had truly wanted it, or if he was just taking advantage of their desperate, life-or-death situation. All her intimacy seemed strictly… well, not exactly platonic, but not sexual, either. And it didn’t feel quite romantic, either.
But he wonders what she would do. What might she see? What might she feel?
He compromises by resting the crown of his head on hers, and quietly, he whispers, “Thank you for loving me.”
“Of course I would.” She replies, sounding fond, before closing her eyes. He can tell that sleep is about to take her again as she sighs, “Don’t worry about who you think you’ve got to be. Just be Astarion. It’s good enough.”
Her breaths even out, and he does his best to match her, taking in the air she exhales. He runs fingers through her hair again as she drifts to sleep.
#mahoufiction#writing#baldur's gate 3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x mc#astarion romance#astarion fic#bg3#bed sharing#writing prompt#i will be a chef in this fandom#let me cook#self-indulgent#friends to lovers#mutual pining#fanfic#astarion headcanons#astarion ancunin#astarion
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Prestidigitation
Gale x F!Reader
Synopsis: Gale introduces you to a new kind of spell, one that makes his fingertips cold to the touch.
CW: temperature play, breeding(?) but not really, praise, lovey dovey Gale,
The sheets were sweaty underneath you. Your sweat had dropped off your body slowly and landed onto the covers beneath you. And yet, cold fingertips traced over your collarbones agonisingly slow. Your lover, Gale, has decided to try something different tonight.
He had decided to use prestidigitation tonight, which caused his fingertips to become cold to the touch. Your body was hot, but everywhere he slid his gorgeous fingers became ice cold.
You arched your back, trying to push your breasts up into his touch as his fingers brushed against your nipple. Eliciting a whine from your throat as he flicked your perky bud. He pinched it gently between his thumb and forefinger, bringing his thumb to rub over the top slowly.
He took away his fingers and quickly replaced it with his warm mouth. He sucked on your breast until it became hot again. His entire hand came to grip your tit that he was sucking on, and he pushed his tongue out to lick a stripe against your nipple.
Another whine came from your throat. Gale chuckled from above you, releasing your tit from his mouth with a pop.
He quickly sat back up and ran his fingers slowly down your body once again. Quickly grabbing your waist so he could dig his fingers into your flesh before moving down farther. Running his hands over your hips, pubic bone, up your thighs and to your calves. You were panting now, wondering if you should start begging for his touch.
But you didn't have to beg, he slipped a hand between your legs and gathered up your wetness on his fingers. You were so warm. And his digits were so cold. It made you shiver as he ran his thumb over your clit.
“Feels good?” He had asked. His voice was raspy, and his hair hung over his face, obscuring it from view. You whined again. “Yes.” you replied. Hoping, wishing, pleading for him to continue whatever he was doing.
He prodded a cold finger at your entrance, and pushed in slowly. Pulling out and pushing back in a slow rhythm.
“More,” You begged, grabbing onto his wrist with your own hand. Hoping to coax him into adding another finger, maybe some pressure onto your clit. Anything to make you cum. “I want more.”
“Patience, my dear girl.” He smirked, moving his palm to rub against your clit as he moved his hand faster. Not fast enough to make you tip over the edge, but enough for your hand to move back onto the bed next to your head.
You could feel the cold inside of you, it rubbed against your walls deliciously, and you wondered why you didn't try this sooner. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, not wanting to disturb the peace of the evening just outside the tower. The setting sun came in through the window, lighting Gale in beautiful streaks of gold and orange.
Soon enough, Gale added in a second finger and moved his hand faster against you. Finally giving you that stretch you needed to push yourself over the edge. You arched your back, pushing your breasts up into the air as you let out a loud moan. You fisted the sheets beneath you as your orgasm coursed through your veins. Your legs shook from the power of it all, eliciting another chuckle from the wizard.
“That was a good one.” He praised, taking out his fingers and immediately putting them into his mouth. He always made sure to put on a show, running his tongue between each digit slowly and moaning as he tasted you on his own skin.
“Please.” You whimpered, and smiled once he took out his fingers and climbed back over top of you. He brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss was far too short for you, and before you knew it, Gale was pulling away and sitting back up on his knees.
He grabbed his own cock, so hard and rigid. It twitched as his cold fingers touched his skin. He wasted no time in positioning himself at your entrance and pushing in slowly. He never wanted to hurt you, always moving so slow you thought you'd die of old age.
“Sweetheart,” You sighed, placing your hands on his hips, trying to push him into you faster. “You don't have to be so gentle, I'm not that fragile.”
He didn't listen, he so rarely did when you told him to not be so gentle with you. He continued at a slow pace until he was fully seated inside you. His balls rubbed against your ass as he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders.
He placed a kiss on your ankle, and quickly placed another kiss on the other ankle before he started moving. He continued to be slow, brushing his hair out of his eyes so he could get a good look at you.
He smirked, moving your legs so your knees fit into his elbow creases as he leaned over you. Almost folding you into a mating press. He ran his cold fingers through the back of your head and into your hair as he thrusted inside of you.
Your hands flew to his back, leaving your mark on him as your nails dug into his flesh. Moaning his name loudly, not much caring for keeping the peace any longer.
“God you're perfect.” Gale moaned, gripping your hair tightly as he picked up his movements. You took a hand off his back and quickly slid it down to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles quickly.
“I'm gonna cum again.” You whined, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks from all the love and ecstasy you were being given.
“Cum with me, my darling.” The wizard whined with you, bringing his lips down to yours once again roughly. The moment his kiss was brought upon you, you felt like you exploded with pure bliss. Your legs shook against his arms again as you damn near screamed into his mouth. Gale wasn't far behind you, moaning loudly into your own mouth as his cum spilled into you.
You were full, even though Gale had gone soft inside of you, you were full. He released your lips and rested his forehead against your own to catch his breath.
“Holy shit,” You giggled, rubbing your sore thighs with your hands. “We're doing that again.”
“Sex? I mean, we've done it plenty of times before-” Gale starts, and you quickly take one of your fingers and place it against his lips to shut him up.
“The cold feeling from your hands, we're going to do that again.” You sighed, a smile rested on your face from his confusion.
“Oh, yeah. We can do that again.” It was now Gale's turn to laugh, always loving how your face looked after sex. The fucked out look, all giggly and loving as if he hadn't just filled you with his seed. How dirty of him.
But he liked dirty, and he liked you. No, he loved you. And you him. You wish you could stay like this for the rest of your life.
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#gale dekarios#baldurs gate gale#gale of waterdeep#gale x reader#gale x reader smut#fanfiction#smut#gale smut#gale x reader lime#bg3 gale#gale x tav#gale#gale dekarious smut
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While imagining Tav living with Gale in Waterdeep, I picture them finally being able to tease him without the constant worry about the orb. How easily would he get flustered, and what kind of teasing would get to him the most?
And!! What if Tav, in the middle of an intense conversation, slowly stepped closer, enough to make Gale think they might kiss, only to pause and say something completely unrelated and random, just to watch Gale scramble to compose himself?
Sorry for so many questions lol but the thought of a flustered Gale has me giggling and kicking my feet and I wanted to hear your thoughts on a very flustered Gale!!
This is super cute anon! Let’s start at the beginning:
How easily would he get flustered, and what kind of teasing would get to him the most?
The most difficult part of this is that Gale is essentially the ‘Schrödinger's Cat’ of being flustered. And what I mean by that is, based on his various interactions in the game, it seems as though he is capable of either being completely flustered or not flustered at all at any given time. Follow along with me here:
Gets flustered when he compliments Tav’s musk
Has no issue with complimenting Tav’s sweat/muscles and saying he’s turned on by them (in front of others, no less!)
Gets flustered at the thought of kissing or holding hands with Tav during the Weave scene
Doesn’t blink an eye at having full on freaky space sex with Tav in the sky
Gets flustered when Tav mentions, in front of Tara, enjoying seeing him naked
Smoothy says he will ‘indulge Tav when they get home’ if Tav makes the same naked comment without Tara around
Do you see the conundrum here anon?! He is very hard to pin down!
What I THINK we can conclude is that there are three very specific situations where Gale gets really flustered:
If he thinks he’s made a verbal fumble which could be taken poorly by Tav,
If he thinks he’s misread Tav’s intentions, and
If anything potentially embarrassing is said or done in front of his good friend/cat mom Tara
Now, to your prompt.
We’ll assume that Tav decides to approach Gale in his study, when he has his nose buried in a book.
“Gale?” Tav will innocently inquire.
“Yes, my love?” Will come the reply, warmth and welcome apparent in Gale’s voice, though his eyes never leave the page.
Tav, moving closer, will untie the top laces of their tunic. “I was hoping you might…help me with something.”
“Of course, dearest. Do you require my physical presence for assistance, or is it just a matter of—” Upon raising his head, Gale will find Tav standing directly in front of his desk, dressed in a rather…provocative manner.
“—oh.”
Gale will, for a moment, be completely at a loss for words—but he’ll pull himself together quickly. “—ah. Forgive me, I ah—lost my train of thought.” He’ll rise from his desk with an apologetic smile. “How may I be of service, my love?”
“Well—there’s a problem with our bed, darling,” Tav will say, smiling coyly, as they lean over the desk to bring their face closer to Gale’s.
“Our—our bed? Why, it was fine this morning…whatever could have—”
“The problem is you aren’t in it.”
Gale’s mouth will open and shut, silently. Then he’ll audibly gulp, clear his throat, and say, “I see.” A smile will begin at the corner of his lips as Tav leans in closer, and his gaze will dip to Tav’s mouth for half a second before returning to their eyes.
“So to answer your previous question,” Tav will say in a hushed, husky tone, their mouth just a hair’s breath from Gale’s, “yes indeed, I will require your ‘physical presence’ for ‘assistance.’”
“Well,” Gale will chuckle, “If you insist, I might be persuaded to leave my work behind…for a little while…”
And as Gale leans forward, his lips parting, his eyelids fluttering shut, Tav will lean back and say: “…but first, can you please help me in the kitchen? There are several spices that I’m in need of for a recipe, but you have them organized in such a manner that I cannot seem to locate them.”
The result of this will be a full ten seconds of Gale attempting to recover his composure.
From blinking his eyes open, to looking completely puzzled, to stuttering: “ah—yes, well—I suppose…” while sheepishly rubbing his hands together, to finally tilting his head and looking at Tav quizzically.
“Did I—did I say something wrong, my love? I…I rather thought we were going to, well…make love in the bedroom…”
Then, Tav will gently laugh, and lean forward to give Gale a thorough kiss, ending with their hands cupping his face as they smile lovingly at him.
“We will darling, but first I want you to have your way with me in the kitchen. On the counter, preferably. I was only teasing you about the spices.”
“Oh!” Gale’s eyes will widen with delight. “Oh, yes of course! Ah-ha, very well.” He’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Then, let us proceed to add some spice to the kitchen, shall we?”
And so they shall—though I’m sad to say that Gale’s being flustered is not done, as they will get an unannounced visitor shortly thereafter:
“Yoo-hoo! Mister Dekariooos! Is that you making all the ruckus in the kitchen?”
“OH, GOOD HEAVENS! NOT NOW TARA! SHOO!”
#😂😂 thanks for the ask!!#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#baldur's gate 3#gale x tav#bg3#answered ask
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taste
aka, gale's practiced tongue. my first smut, which ended up being way longer than i expected. all for my wizard though. this is in the epilogue, pts 1 and 2 are posted but not necessary if you wanna skip to the smut :)
6.5k words
a03 link with tags
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Tav tried to focus on the friends around her while she fought against worries about Wyll and Karlach, who were in Avernus for gods know how long. After Astarion ran away from the group once his immunity to the sun disappeared, they managed to track him down and get him to join them at a cabin off the coast. The night cover there was enough to keep the vampire safe, and enough to bring the comfort that Tav and Gale longed for. Meanwhile, Shadowheart and Lae’zel had some closer indoor proximity to strengthen their budding bond. Halsin and Jaheria were also settled with the group for the week before returning to Last Light.
Gale lived up to his promise of being the perfect gentleman throughout their adventure, so Tav was hopeful it would stay like this now that they’re in the clear. Tonight, he had already cooked the group dinner and let Tav take her shower first. Now Tav could hear the water turn off, and she tried to make herself look more focused on the book in her lap than she was.
She loved reading just as much as Gale, but being in a comfy bed for the first time in months, and knowing that her gorgeous partner was about to come out a wet, glistening beauty from the shower, her trouble was understandable. She loved the way Gale’s wet hair framed his face, with soft strands coming undone from his half up-do.
Their bathroom door creaked open as Gale entered their bedroom. His eyes immediately went to Tav reading in bed, the sight warming his heart.
Her eyes immediately went to his bare chest that was on full display with some droplets of water slowly making their way down to the light dusting of hair between his hip bones. He had a towel hung low on his waist. From the orb on his chest to the smooth happy trail Tav saw, she feared she was drooling.
“Sorry,” Gale started, “I forgot to bring pants in there. I’ll just …” He trailed off as he noticed that Tav’s gaze hadn’t left his body. Smirking, he walked over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead. That finally worked at getting her gaze to his eyes.
Gale smiled down at the beautiful woman before him. “How’s your book?” He asked.
Tav stared a moment longer before she remembered how to form words. “It’s … it’s good!”
“Good,” Gale replied with a small laugh. He ruffled her hair before walking over to the wardrobe to grab some trousers. Once he found a suitable pair — soft cerulean blue flannel that Tav said would look adorable on him — he headed back to the bathroom to get dressed.
Tav mourned the loss of a barely-covered Gale. At least now she’d be a bit less embarrassing in her conspicuous ogling of him. She so rarely saw him without a top on, but with a towel so low? And still wet from the shower? Gods, she needed to get it together before he came back in.
Once Gale returned in trousers and a dark grey sweatshirt, he walked back over to Tav and examined her book. “Looks like you’re on the same page as before, dear.”
She glared up at him for stating the obvious. “Well, dear, someone distracted me,” she said pointedly.
“Oh, really? Who would dare to do such a thing?” Gale kept up with his mock astonishment, “I think we shall have to punish them for that indiscretion.”
“And how would you like to be punished?” Tav asked him without skipping a beat. She applauded herself for her composure.
Gale slowly smiled, a rosy tint spreading across his cheeks. “I didn’t realize I was the one who distracted you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Did I make too much noise coming in?”
Tav rolled her eyes at his teasing. “No, you were just wearing far less clothing than I expected. Technically, you weren’t wearing any clothing.”
“Again, my apologies. I certainly didn’t forget my trousers on purpose,” Gale replied. She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but she didn’t care. He was adorable, and he was here. They had safety, comfort, and privacy. Finally.
Tav scooted over on the bed so Gale could sit next to her. Once he settled in, she moved to his lap and embraced him. She snuggled into his warm chest, basking in the soft scent of patchouli and amber. “I missed you,” she whispered.
Gale held her tightly as he stroked his thumb in a small circle on her back. “While I was in the shower?” He asked playfully.
She made an “mhm” sound into his shoulder, which went straight to his cock. He tried to redirect her attention by combing his fingers through her hair before she felt anything under her. She miraculously never seemed to notice it when they slept together at camp, or maybe she just never said anything. Still, he thought to himself, she must’ve blushed orsomething*.*
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Gale says as he leans back onto the headboard, supporting Tav against his chest. “You know, we can always bathe together and avoid this whole issue of being without each other.” He made the suggestion lightly — it was something he’d enjoy, but he knew that Tav wasn’t comfortable being naked around anyone. She may never be comfortable, but he hoped his words and actions could help alleviate her insecurities.
Tav laughed softly at the idea. “You wish.” She smiled into his chest and snuggled in closer. One of her hands wrapped around his neck found its way into his still-damp hair, causing Gale to let out a soft moan.
Fuck, Tav thought. So much for regaining my cool. She instinctively squirmed a bit in his lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
After a few moments of playing with his hair in silence, Tav pulled away to look at Gale. She moved her left hand to his waist over his sweater, and her right hand went to cup his face. “Gale…” she sighed, her longing evident.
Gale took in her deep gaze, full of emotion, and felt his heart surge. “Yes, my love?”
Tav stroked her thumb across his cheek. “I love you.”
Gale turned his head slightly to press a kiss to her thumb. “I love you too.”
Their lips met softly, the couple getting comfortable in each other’s embrace. Tav moved her lips against his, indicating that she wanted more. He had learned shortly after they reached Baldur’s Gate that she loathed kissing with tongue, but he found a way to lightly bite and suck at her bottom lip that turned her into a whimpering mess.
Gale nipped at her lip, causing her to shift her hips against him. At this rate, she was definitely going to feel his arousal. He ran his fingers through her hair, while using his other hand to rake his nails up and down her back.
Tav kept whimpering and wriggling her hips as they made out, reveling in the moans she could get out of Gale. One hand remained tangled in his hair, while she brought the other down to slip up under his sweater.
She marveled at the feeling of his taut stomach beneath her fingers. She slowly guided her hand down, running across the happy trail she’d yearned after for so long. She always found this fascination odd, as all other body hair freaked her out. But Gale wasn’t complaining.
Gale tried to keep his bottom half still as Tav touched him. He wanted her to explore of her own volition. Still, he kissed her with passion, letting her know that he was very much enjoying this.
Tav continued to run her hand across his muscles, driving them both wild. She let out a short gasp of surprise when her grinding caused her to discover Gale’s erection. Or at least, what she thought was his erection. Maybe it’s just his leg, she told herself. She’d never been good at discerning these things.
Sensing her pause, Gale pulled away from her soft lips. He figured she had finally felt him, and he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. “Tav,” he breathed. “You can feel how hard I am, can’t you?”
Tav bit her lip and nodded in response.
“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I need you to know that this doesn’t mean we have to do anything, okay? It just means I’m feeling good. You make me feel good,” Gale reassured her.
“I’m not uncomfortable, I was just a little confused,” she laughed. “I couldn’t totally tell. It’ll probably take me a while to be able to be certain when it’s that or … just your leg, or something. Every part of you is warm and hard, you know?”
Gale let out a deep laugh at her reasoning. “Alright. As long as you’re still feeling good, I’m good. If it bothers you or anything, we can always put a pillow there,” he offered earnestly. Astarion would scoff at his decency, but Gale was serious about making sure his love was completely comfortable.
“Hmm…” Tav pretended to think. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather feel you.” She shifted her hips forward to drive the message home. Gale sharply sucked in his breath, looking at her like she was going to be the death of him.
She’d never felt more powerful in her life. She could kill a hag, massacre a trio of evil gods, and defeat the Absolute, and yet it was the sounds Gale made that made her feel like a queen.
“Tav,” he moaned her name. She grinned in response.
Gale smiled and shook his head as he noticed her pure delight in unravelling him. He brought a hand to her waist, slipping it under the back of her sweater. “Is this okay?” He checked in with her softly.
“Yes,” she responded, sounding like she was biting back a moan. He ran his hand up her bare back, feeling goosebumps quickly form at the contact. Gale used this hand to gently guide her back to his chest so they could resume their kissing.
Eventually, when Tav pulled back for air, she noticed that it was dark outside. “Gods, how long have we been at this?”
Gale chuckled when he noticed too, realizing that it had to be an hour at the least. They were having too much fun exploring each others bodies. While keeping their clothes on, of course. He was pleasantly surprised by the amount of intimacy the act held.
”Apparently long enough that the stars grew tired of it,” he replied. “Although I couldn’t ever grow tired of this.”
Tav smiled back at him and said, “Me neither.” She stared at him with dark eyes full of adoration before letting out a dramatic sigh.
“What’s the matter?” Gale asked her.
She thought for a moment before responding. “Nothing, I just … I’m …” She leaned her head into his chest, pressing against him. He wrapped his arms around her.
Now covered by the safety of Gale’s embrace (and having her face hidden away), Tav continued. “I want more.”
Gale breathed deeply as he felt his heart rate begin to rise. “What do you want?” He asked softly, eager to give her whatever it was.
“I … I don’t know.” Tav did actually know, but she wasn’t just going to say it. She’d always had trouble verbalizing her feelings. It just felt wrong, like she was expecting too much, being a burden.
“Hm, would you like me to give you some ideas then?” Gale asked her. He knew if she said yes, he could finally get that delicious response out of her that he’d been craving since the last time they touched on this topic.
He grinned when he felt Tav nod against his chest. “Well, I could give you a massage. Or I could show you my practiced tongue,” his smirk was obvious in his tone. He knew that would easily send her over the edge.
Gale’s feeling was confirmed when Tav froze in his arms, followed by a soft, frustrated whimper. He went on, “There’s something else I wanted to show you, actually. Can you look at me?”
Tav pulled herself back to look into his adoring eyes. She was extremely flushed after his suggestion, and she had no idea what he was going to do now.
He motioned for her to hold her palm out to him. When she obliged, he traced his index finger over her palm. Tav couldn’t suppress a little moan of delight — he knew how sensitive her palms were. Gale smirked in response, telling her to keep his eyes on him.
Suddenly, Tav felt a buzzing sensation against her palm. “Holy shit,” she said as she realized what Gale was doing. “Fuck.”
She couldn’t form any more words — she was in shock that Gale created a reverberation spell, didn’t tell her about it until she said she wanted to do more, and now her pleasure was actually within reach.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
She moaned in response. “Yes.”
Gale spoke softly, “Good.” He continued running his finger over her palm, watching her eyes fill with desire he’d never seen before. He felt pride and protectiveness wash over him, knowing this was the first time she’d ever felt like this. And here he was, getting to witness it. Getting to cause it.
“Do you still want more?”
Tav moaned another affirmative response.
This was Gale’s chance. “Can I go down on you?”
The earnest desire in his voice melted Tav’s heart. “Yes,” she said for the first time in her life, “please.”
Gale couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have this effect on her. How lucky he was to fill this desire for her. He smiled warmly at her.
”Okay,” he started to pace himself. “I know you have trouble verbalizing feelings, so there’s a few ways we can do this. I’ll ask before I do anything new. You can tell me to stop, you can use the Weave to draw our minds together so I know what you’re thinking, or you can give me a little tap. Any of those, and I’ll stop what I’m doing. I’ll also stop if you hesitate while answering a question. I’ll keep checking in you, unless you shove me back down so I can’t.” Gods, how he wanted that. “Does that sound good to you?”
Tav couldn’t believe how thoughtful and sweet he was. How he wanted to actually do this for her. “That sounds perfect, Gale.”
He smiled before leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, her nose, both of her cheeks, her forehead, and her neck. “Lie back,” he instructed her softly.
She followed his command, relaxing into the throne of pillows Gale arranged for her. She kept her knees up until Gale began to crawl on top of her.
He asked, “How’s this?”
“Good,” she replied. “You can come down.”
He slowly lowered himself until his body was pressing against hers. “Still good?”
She nodded, then raised her head up to kiss him. He met her lips in earnest, teasing her with his tongue. When he got to the nibbling that went straight to her clit, she hooked a leg around him. Gale moaned into her mouth as she pulled him into her, shamelessly rubbing her hips against him.
He had never seen her so comfortable with her pleasure, and it filled his heart with a surge of warmth. And his cock, if he was being honest. He began slowly grinding his hips against Tav, eliciting the most enticing whimper she’d let out yet.
“Fuck,” Gale said, “You feel so good. You sound so good.”
Tav giggled underneath him. “You,” she said between kisses, “too.”
Gale reached a hand down to caress the leg that wasn’t wrapped around him. “Can I take these off?” He motioned to her pants. “You can keep your sweater on, of course, if you like.”
Always centering her comfort. Tav nodded at him, and he sat back on his heels to help. She lifted her hips up and started to pull her pants down from her waist so he could take over at her thighs.
He reached for the fabric, then slowly pulled it off her as she shimmied out. He admired her bare legs as much as he could in the near-darkness, before he remembered to light a damn candle.
With a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, Gale lit the candles on either nightstand to give them some warm ambiance. Tav grinned at his adorable response. He really was her prince charming.
“Now, back to business.” Gale said seriously. He caressed her leg, marveling at how soft her skin was. He used one arm to brace himself as he leaned back over her. His other hand traveled up to her knee, and he looked at her for guidance.
“Higher, please,” Tav whispered. He obliged, running his fingertips up her bare thigh. She tilted her head back into the pillow, watching him savor it.
Gale moved his hand to her inner thigh, gently raking his nails against her smooth skin. “Fuck,” Tav let out. “’S good.”
Gale chuckled at her eloquence. “Good, my love. That’s all I want you to feel.”
He carried on playing with her thighs, alternating between hands, until she sighed again. He looked down at her with raised eyebrows, “Yes, my dear?”
She pouted in response, sticking out the bottom lip that he loved to tease. “More. Please?”
He smiled at her again. “Of course. What would you like?”
There goes that adorable pout again, he thought.
Tav spent a few moments cursing the gall Gale had to make her use her words. “I thought you wanted to show me your practiced tongue,” she finally settled on, praying she wouldn’t actually have to ask for it.
“Hm, I did say that. However, I’d like to hear you say it. I know it’s hard, and you can be as indirect as you’d like. I just want to know that’s what you want,” Gale responded. He hated to make her ask for it, but since it was the first time, he needed all the confirmation he could get.
Tav stared up at him for a few moments, preparing herself. Finally, she whispered, “I want you to use your mouth on me.”
Gale felt his cock twitch at her words, pre-cum leaking from the tip. He groaned, “As you wish, my lady,” before moving down to her legs once again. He settled at the end of the bed so he could work his way back up her beautiful legs.
He pressed soft kisses to her calves, flicked his tongue out on the side of her knee, and spent minutes kissing her thighs while she squirmed. He took a break to meet her eyes and ask, “Is this alright?”
“Mhm-hm,” she nodded. “You can - you can be a little rougher here. As in, you can bite my thighs a bit. I think I’d like that.”
The vulnerability Tav had just shared made Gale feel all sorts of warmth towards her. He smiled, nodded, and told her to tap his shoulder or his head if it was ever too much, or not enjoyable.
He started by gently sucking at her inner thigh. Then he used his teeth to nip at her skin like he did with her lips, and he felt her hips buck in response. Cock throbbing, he raised his eyes to meet hers as he continued sucking and biting on different spots, higher and higher, until he got closer to her warm center.
Moving his hand to the hem of her sweater, he asked, “May I?” Tav raised her eyebrow, making him realize that she thought he was referring to removing her top. “I mean, may I, touch your … center?” He cursed himself for not being able to find a better word that didn’t sound vulgar. “I won’t push your sweater up, just lift it enough so I can reach my destination. If you’d like, that is.”
Tav smiled softly at the man between her thighs. “I like. I mean, you may,” she giggled.
Gale chuckled and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh before carefully lifting up her hem and leaving it right where her underwear ….
Would be, if she were wearing any. He sweared at this unexpected full access to her.
Tav interrupted his thoughts with another innocent giggle. “Sorry, I forgot I wasn’t wearing underwear.”
Gale did not think she sounded sorry, but he was elated with this turn of events. He was lost in her scent, wanting so badly to taste her.
Gale returned his gaze up to Tav. “You’re beautiful. You’re perfect, my love.” He’s never meant anything more in his life.
Tav’s heart raced at the praise, and she smiled in return. “Thank you,” she said softly. She had never been called beautiful before.
He pressed another kiss to her thigh before focusing his attention where they both wanted it. His hands were on either side of him, thumbs drawing small circles in the crease between her inner thighs and her core. He took his time reaching her center, savoring the heady scent that had him harder than he’d ever been.
Gale kissed around her entrance before dipping his tongue into the mix. He noticed Tav’s silence and looked up at her.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “It just doesn’t feel like much yet.”
“You’re okay with me continuing this until we find something that feels like much?” Gale asked her, ready to stop at any moment if she didn’t want to continue.
Tav nodded. “Yes, please.”
He nodded, then returned to his mission. He alternated between kissing and licking in small spots around he vulva. Tav finally laced her hands in his hair and sighed in frustration.
Gale raised an eyebrow at her, enjoying teasing her.
“Please,” Tav begged. Please, please, please get to my clit, she thought.
“Please what?” He feigned innocence.
“You know what, mister practiced tongue.” Gods, he exasperated her.
Gale let out a laugh before obliging their desires. He pressed a soft kiss to her clit, causing her to shift her hips and tug lightly at his hair. He considered teasing her about this some more, but he knew she’d be rather unhappy if he took his mouth off of her at this moment. He would be, too. This first taste of her was more than he had dreamed of.
His kisses grew more open mouthed until he licked at her clit, tracing soft circles around her nub. Tav whimpered his name when he gently sucked on her clit and stroked his tongue over it at the same time.
She hooked a leg around his shoulder, resting her foot on his back. “Fuck,” she moaned. Then she opened her eyes again and looked at the devastatingly beautiful sight in front of her. Gale, with his hair a mess from her hands, eyes shining with love and lust, and mouth worshiping her clit.
And here she was, putting the weight of her whole leg on his back. “Is this okay? Am I hurting you?”
Gale didn’t want to pause his delectable feast, but he had to in order to answer her question. “This is perfect. You’re not hurting me, you’re wonderful. Is anything hurting for you?” He asked, remembering her pain. He knew she still had chronic pain without penetration, and it could be worsened by tightening pelvic muscles when she’s aroused. He’d have to keep an eye on that. Or a finger.
“No, it’s good. So good,” Tav replied.
Green light given, Gale returned to his ministrations. He traded tracing circles for a vertical motion, causing Tav to moan and tighten her leg around him. So that’s what she liked, he thought.
He licked and sucked at her clit until she was writhing beneath him, grinding against his face with every flick of his tongue. He was in heaven.
Gale slowly moved a finger closer to his jaw while continuing to lavish her. Again, he didn’t want to pause, but he needed to ask her something. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth off of her.
Tav pouted at the loss of contact. Gale asked her, “Do you mind if I try something with my finger? Not going in anywhere, just going around your sensitive spots as I use my tongue on your clit.”
Anything to get you back there, she thought. She didn’t really know what sensitive spots he was referring to, but she didn’t care enough to further extend the loss of contact between her clit and his mouth. “Go ahead. I’ll give your hair a little tug if I want you to stop.”
Gale pressed a kiss to her clitoris, causing Tav to throw her head back. “Thank you, my love.”
He focused more on sucking at her nub, loving the sweet taste that filled his mouth. Plums, he thought. Of course she tastes like fucking plums.
He wanted her dripping down his chin. He brought his thumb to her labia as he swiped his tongue side to side on her clit, then his thumb went lower still.
My ass, Tav realized. The sensitive spot he meant was my ass. She thought it was odd, but it felt nice, so she didn’t stop him. As long as it stayed outside, it was surprisingly pleasant.
Gale traced soft lines with his thumb, bringing his other hand up to his hair. He untangled one of Tav’s hands so he could hold it, and she squeezed it so hard that he worried he hurt her.
“Are you in pain?” He paused to check in on her, eyes full of concern.
“No, no, it’s good. I just … Can you … can you do the thing?” Tav’s voice was full of uncertainty and embarrassment.
Gale was here to take care of her, though. He always would be. “It would be my pleasure,” he told her. He moved the hand that had been exploring her body up to the top of her pelvis so he could gently pull the hood of her clit back as he licked under it.
Tav squirmed against Gale, and then he did it. He did the thing.
Tav gasped as his tongue began vibrating against her clit. She had never, ever felt anything like this before. “Gale,” she moaned breathlessly, “that feels amazing.”
His cock twitched at her praise. He reveled in knowing that he made her feel this good. His tongue began moving in small circles again, before going up and down her clit. Tav squeezed his hand, nails digging into his scalp, as he pleasured her.
She imagined him speaking to her, telling her she’s a good girl, telling her to relax and let his tongue please her. Telling her how good she tasted. Maybe, she thought, next time he could conjure a mirror image to do that. The thought brought her more pleasure as she shivered.
Tav felt a tap on her thigh, bringing her out of her fantasy. Gale was looking up at her, want evident in his eyes. She thought she saw him shifting into the mattress, almost as if going down on her was so pleasurable for him that he needed to grind into something to release some pressure. Fuck, that was another fantasy of hers that may come to fruition.
He began tracing letters on her thigh as they gazed at each other. She noticed they were upside down so they’d face her. She felt him spell out M-O-R-E?
Tav nodded, trusting him to not be talking about penetration. She felt something in her chest shift at this realization that she could trust him with this.
Gale’s tongue suddenly got stronger, causing Tav to writhe in pleasure. He licked lines across her clit and sucked at it. Tav seemed a bit less of a mess when he did that, so he brought his tongue back to the bottom of her clit and tapped against it as he sucked. That got her going.
She was whimpering and grinding against him, lost in the pleasure she so whole-heartedly deserved. Gale silently thanked himself for remembering to cast a silencing spell on their room once they got to the cabin. Just in case.
Tav was back in her fantasy imagining Gale’s deep voice praising her as he fucked her with his tongue. It really was a shame that he couldn’t do both without another spell, but there was no way she was going to stop him now to ask for it. She’d lived 23 years without having an orgasm, and she was not going to delay it when it was finally within reach.
Suddenly Gale’s voice sounded a lot more real in her head. That’s it, he said. You’re doing so good. Tav’s eyes widened as she looked at Gale, realizing he was onto her fantasy and connecting their thoughts through the Weave. Just when she thought he couldn’t be more perfect.
Fuck, she thought, please don’t stop.
Gale’s rutting against the mattress was getting more and more frenzied as he licked at Tav’s clit, feeling the wetness against his beard as he praised her telepathically. He knew how much she loved his voice, and he knew how much she loved his praise. So of course when she went off in her own little world, he got the idea that this might elevate her pleasure, as well as giving her more comfort in such a vulnerable state.
At this rate, he was going to cum in his pants.
That’s really fucking hot, Tav thought.
Gale mentally cursed at himself when he realized he projected that thought into Tav’s head. Well, at least she was into it.He decided to lean into it and tell her more about how amazing this was for him, embarrassed as it made him feel.
I have never tasted anything so delectable in my life. I could eat you out for hours. You feel amazing with your legs wrapped around me, holding my hand, tugging at my hair. You’re doing so good for me, and you’re making my cock so hard. You have no idea how hard I’m trying not to cum in my pants at the taste of you, and the gorgeous little sounds you’re making. I love you, Tavlin.
She was getting so close to a plateau she had never reached before, but somehow she knew this must be it. Next time, we’re so using a mage hand to stroke your cock while you do this. I want to see you cum.
With that thought, Gale’s tongue lapping at her clit as she ground against it, and feeling the pleasure that Gale felt from tasting her and hearing her words, Tav felt her muscles seize as she rolled her head back and moaned in pleasure. Her back arched off the bed, her legs shook, all the while Gale kept his tongue buzzing on her with hard licks.
Gale felt his cock spurting warm cum in the confines of his trousers as he witnessed Tav’s first orgasm. Liquid splashed into his mouth, running down his face in generous, heady rivulets.
Did I just make her squirt? he thought.
As Tav came down from her orgasm, Gale slowed the movements of his tongue and stopped the vibration. He could feel her muscles contracting, and he pressed two fingers against her wet entrance to keep those muscles from tightening so much that they hurt her. Tav still had her eyes closed in bliss.
Gale took the moment to selfishly lap at her entrance, tasting her cum. And her squirt, because there was no other explanation for what soaked his beard and part of the mattress under her. He felt more cum leak from his cock at the thought. He didn’t even realize he was still hard, but it wasn’t surprising considering what just happened. The taste of plums from before was amplified, along with something else. Something lighter but more sensual, like a faint trace of cherry.
Tav’s grip finally loosened in Gale’s hair and on his hand, so he looked up to meet her eyes. She looked so beautiful, an ethereal wreck after cumming so hard on his face.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she began to notice how wet Gale’s face was.
“Sweetheart,” he started, sensing that she was going to be embarrassed. “You were amazing. You taste amazing. And I want you to know that I thoroughly enjoyed that, all of that, and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? It’s extremely arousing, especially as someone who gets off on pleasuring you. That was just another show of how good you felt, and fuck, it even made me cum again.”
Surprise took over Tav’s face. “You came? Twice?”
Gale blushed. “Yes. I … I’m still fighting embarrassment over that, but I know you like it,” he admitted.
Tav smiled for the first time after her orgasm, showing that she felt some comfort in their shared situation. “I do. A lot. And you’re not … grossed out? Or mad? At me? I mean, this is a mess.”
“It’s a mess I will happily clean up. With my tongue, in regards to you, and nothing a quick spell and sheet change won’t fix, in regards to the bed,” Gale assured her. He raised up onto his arms and started making his way back over Tav, wincing at the sticky feeling in his trousers. She giggled at that.
He rolled his eyes at her and scoffed at her delight. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.” He went in for a kiss, but Tav turned her head sharply and scrunched up her face.
“What’s wrong?” Tav felt guilty hearing the concern in Gale’s voice.
She told him, “Nothing, you just smell like me. I’m not a fan.” She kept her head to the side, trying hard not to breathe in her own scent. She had no idea how Gale could be into that, or if he just said it to be nice.
“Okay, clearly you actually don’t have a refined palate. I can assure you that nothing is sweeter to me.” Gale said, surprised that she was so disgusted by it. He leaned back onto his heels and did a cleansing spell on his face — namely his mouth and beard — so he could kiss his partner in peace. He was sad that he couldn’t savor her taste, but maybe he could look forward to tasting her again. And again, for the rest of their lives.
“Is this better?” Gale asked as he moved back over Tav slowly. She finally turned her head back to look at him, noticing that he looked considerably more dry.
“Mhm,” she hummed, waiting for him to come down and kiss her. Their lips met, and she was relieved that it was back to tasting like peppermint. She melted into his kiss, pressing her body up against his.
Tav pulled away to ask, “Did you do that charm on your pants too?”
“No,” Gale laughed, “That’s a good idea though.” He paused to perform the incantation again, glad that he felt dry and comfortable down there. He’d change his trousers later, but he wasn’t leaving Tav’s side right now. “How are you feeling?”
“Good, really good. Relaxed. Thank you,” she held his gaze as she said it.
“Of course, my love. I wanted that just as much as, if not more than, you.”
Tav grinned. “And you’re okay with … ending it there?” She was much less sure about this.
“I promise, sweetheart, I’m more than okay with that,” Gale pressed another kiss to her lips, then her flushed cheeks, then her nose, then her temple. “I love you just the way that you are, and I love being with you like this. You’re an amazing partner. You make me happier than I’ve ever been, and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”
This is it. “In fact,” Gale continued, “I’ve been thinking about returning to Waterdeep. I’d like you to return with me as a member of the Dekarios clan. If you want that too.” He had been waiting to be in the clear with the orb to ask this, and now that it was safe … he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Gale!” Tav exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. “Are you asking me to marry you?” Tears brimmed in her eyes at the implication.
Gale smiled at her. “Yes, I am. I would do it on one knee, but I don’t think it’d be fair to make you stand right now. You might be a bit shaky on your legs.” He smirked as arousal coursed through him at the memory that his mouth brought her that pleasure.
She raised an eyebrow at him, going for teasing despite the tears beginning to escape her eyes. “Do you have a ring?”
“Not yet,” Gale admitted. “There’s a jeweler I want to go to in Waterdeep. And I wanted to leave it open for you to pick out, if you’d like.”
“Okay,” Tav grinned at him. “Yes. I’ll marry you. On one condition — you’re going to do another official proposal with a ring somewhere nice. Not in a bed.”
Gale felt elated. “Deal,” he agreed. He kissed her slowly, passionately, tasting the salt of her tears of joy. He pulled away to pepper little kisses all over her face, causing her to giggle and press a hand to his chest so she could reach up and kiss his nose.
“I love you.”
The pair fell into joyous laughter at that — they both said it at the same time.
Once their laughing finally subsided, Tav made sure to tell him her plans before she forgot. “Next time, I want to see your cock. Just by the way, in case I get to embarrassed to say it later.” Her face was flaming at the admission now, but it was easier to say after what they just shared.
Gale felt his cock stirring again as his face heated, instantly aroused at her words. He swallowed and looked at her, making sure she wasn’t just teasing him. He’d be fine if she was, but he didn’t want to overstep if it was a joke. “Okay,” he said, trying to sound in control and mature, “we can do that.”
“Good,” Tav smiled at him. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Do you smell burning?”
He sniffed at the air. He smelt nothing besides the earlier evidence of her arousal and pleasure, but he knew her nose was supernatural.
“Guys!” They heard Astarion’s voice from the hall. “Can you come out here?”
“I think we broke the stove,” Shadowheart added helpfully.
Gale and Tav sighed in unison. It seems the end of their adventure was not the end of this group’s chaos. Tav swore she could hear humor in Astarion’s voice, like he knew what they were doing, and he wanted to tease them about it.
“Coming,” Gale called grumpily. For the third time this evening.
#gale dekarios#gale fanfic#bg3 gale#gale of waterdeep#gale x tav#tav x gale#bg3 epilogue#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic writers#gale smut#gale romance
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#15 for Professor John and Student Gale for @trashbag-baby666 This is in Theo and my au where Gale is 20, a college student, and John is 33, a professor at the college. John teaches Sports Journalism/Broadcasting or something similar, and Gale enrolls in on one of John's classes after John subs for one of his teachers, even though it has nothing to do with his major. Gale's struggling in the class so John helps tutor him and they get close. Winter in WI can be brutal, and Gale lives out of his car. John sees him one night and offers him to come stay at his place with his two daughters-- a 5 and 3 year old-- and Gale reluctantly accepts. One of his feet is frost-bitten from his time staying in his car in the blistering cold, and he hides how bad it is from John, ignores it, until John takes him to the hospital with a high fever. Doctors have to amputate his leg, just below his knee, because of how bad it's gotten, by this point.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, John rose to his feet, his back and shoulders rolling as he stood upright, his spine cracking multiple times. He surveyed the room and the hastily put together furniture, popping his gum between his molars as he considered. He just hoped it would be good enough. He'd bought a new bed, a nightstand, bookshelves, a desk, and a dresser, all matching. While it wasn't expensive, he'd wanted something with a bit of quality to it, so it wasn't exactly cheap either. John sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand again before swiping it over his jeans.
He'd already had Gale's car towed into his driveway, already gotten all of his stuff out of the vehicle, though he hadn't wanted to put things away, since Gale might want to do that himself. The bed was unmade, but sheets and a thick comforter lay folded on top of it, ready to go. With any luck, Gale would let him make the bed for him, would let John help him put his belongings away. The past week, though, Gale had been moody and uncooperative, earning him more than a few glares and grumbled curses from nurses and doctors. John couldn't exactly blame him, he guessed. Though it wasn't exactly their fault he was in there in the first place.
His phone alarm went off in his pocket, startling him out of his thoughts, and John pulled the thing out, turning it off. Taking a deep breath, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room, closing the door behind him. It was time to go pick Gale up, to bring him home. The girls were with Curt for the day, a carefully orchestrated plan so Gale wouldn't get too overwhelmed on his first day back. He knew Gale loved his daughters and that they loved him too, but John also knew Gale was extremely anxious about being discharged, even if he would never admit it. So, he'd asked Curt to keep the girls busy to give Gale some time to decompress. Curt had been more than happy to take his goddaughters for the day.
John got himself ready quickly, washing his face, combing his curls into something a little neater, changing into clean clothes, before tossing on his snow boots and heading out. The drive to the hospital was uneventful, thankfully, the roads clear of snow and ice and other cars. It was early enough on a Sunday, John supposed, that people were either in church or just staying in. He couldn't blame them, it was -2 degrees out. Which is why he parked as close to the hospital doors as he could and practically sprinted into the building.
"Mornin', doll," John greeted cheerfully when he brushed through the door to Gale's room. Gale blinked at him, eyes still blurry from sleep, as if he'd just woken up. Which he probably had.
"Mornin'" he replied, voice thick and rough with sleep. John found it endearing and he smiled brightly.
"Ready to blow this pop stand?" John asked, though he plopped himself in the chair beside Gale's bed as he said it, causing Gale to frown, brow furrowing in confusion, "after you get your morning meds, get dressed, and I sign the paperwork," John continued as way of explanation. Gale's confusion cleared, but he was still frowning, starting to pick nervously at the edge of the blanket John had brought him from his car. It was old, clearly, fraying at the edges, but well-loved and, clearly, a comfort item.
"Is my car still in the lot?" Gale muttered, as if afraid to even ask.
"Nah, I had it brought home," John replied, waving a hand in the air as if it were no big deal. Gale seemed to stiffen, but John couldn't tell if it was due to his words or his actions.
"Oh…" Gale sighed, forcing himself to relax, though John saw him cut a quick glance to his leg. Guilt welled inside John for the millionth time of the past week. He allowed himself to wallow for a few quick seconds before slapping his hands on his thighs— noting the way Gale flinched slightly— and standing up.
"A'ight, well, I dunno about you," John started, "but I hate hospitals and would just assume be on our way. Lemme go grab a nurse so we can be," he said, back to cheerful and smiley, before trotting out the door and tracking down the first nurse he could, roping them into helping with Gale's morning medications and getting the paperwork set for him to be discharged.
A little over an hour later, John's pulling the car out of the hospital parking lot, humming along to the radio while Gale sits and glowers out the window. He has that blanket wrapped around his shoulders and he's still picking at the frayed edge, anxious and uncertain. John can feel the weight of unspoken words in the air, can feel the tension thick and almost suffocating.
"You can drop me off at a motel or something," Gale whispered, almost too quiet to hear over the radio, finally breaking his silence. John's hand not on the steering wheel twitched.
"Why would I do that?"
"I have nowhere to go and my car's at your house…" Gale muttered, leaning his forehead on the cold glass of the passenger window.
"Yeah, which is why you're coming home with me," John replied, his tone light and easy, eyeing the rising tension in Gale's shoulders carefully.
"You don't have to," Gale said and John could hear the slightest bit of panic in his voice. He knew it was only going to grow.
"I want to," John assured, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal— though he knew it was. Gale finally looked over at him and John saw the panic haze in his eyes.
"I don't want to be a burden, and that's all I'd be," Gale retorted, biting his lip.
"Nah, you wouldn't be. I like having you around. The girls like having you around."
"I can't do anything, I can't pay rent, I can't- I can't- I ca- can't-" Gale stuttered out, the panic sinking it's claws into him. Before John could respond, Gale's hands were fumbling at the door handle and the door started to swing open. Without thinking, John lunged towards the door, jerking the car roughly, and slammed the door with his body splayed across Gale's lap. He held it as Gale tried to shove it open again, his whole body trembling, breathing harsh and quick as he hyperventilated. John managed to get the car to the side of the road, stopped, in park, and the doors locked without moving from his position.
"Buck," John tried to get his attention, seeing the way Gale's eyes had gone unfocused and wide, "Buck, hey, Buck, look at me," he tried again, sitting up and twisting in his seat, grabbing one of Gale's wrists gently. tapping with his forefinger. Gale didn't look at him, screwing his eyes shut instead.
"L-lemme go," Gale whispered. John reluctantly let go of his wrist, but he kept one hand poised to lock the car doors and one to grab Gale's wrist if he needed to.
"Gale," John said firmly, making the younger man flinch slightly, but he blinked his eyes open and looked at John, "it's okay, Gale," John tried to reassure him, but Gale shook his head, tears springing to his eyes. John wanted to wipe them away when they started spilling. He opened his mouth to say something, but choked on his breath and curled in on himself, one hand shooting his knee, gripping at the bandages.
"Hey, hey, none of that," John reached over and gently peeled Gale's hand away from the stump, twining their fingers together to let Gale clench his hand instead, "we'll figure things out, 'kay? But you're comin' home with me is non-negotiable. I signed legal paperwork saying I'd take care of you, if nothing else," John said softly, ducking his head to maintain eye contact when Gale tried to look away, "and, I want to take care of you. I want you to come stay with me. I want you there, okay? You're not a burden, not to me," John soothed him, relieved when Gale's panicked breathing started to ease. The blond screwed his eyes shut again, but he leaned back against the car seat, making a visible effort to calm his breathing, his hand squeezing John's tightly, the other on his uninjured leg.
They sat in silence for a long moment before Gale nodded, a short, sharp thing, and John let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He knew this was a discussion they'd have to have later on too, but he hoped that it could wait long enough for Gale to get really well settled and decide things were actually okay. John waited a few more moments, watching Gale settle back down, before throwing the car back into drive and pulling back onto the road. They'd only gone a few feet before Gale set his hand over John's on the gearshift. John smiled softly and moved his hand to let their fingers twine together, squeezing Gale's hand reassuringly.
"I had Curt take the girls so they don't instantly bombard you when we get home," John commented, wanting to say something but not knowing what else to say. Gale hummed softly but didn't reply, just stayed as he was, and John found that it was a relief, the lack of reaction. After all, with Gale, no reaction was usually better, he'd found. Well… Except for in one particular case.
"Hey," John said, squeezing Gale's hand softly, glancing over at him.
"Hmmm?" Gale replied, cracking his eyes to look over at John.
"Why didn't you tell me it hurt so bad?" John asked softly, his voice quiet, concern colouring his tone. He saw Gale stiffen slightly, saw his jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not mad, Buck, I just want to understand," John explained, worried about setting Gale into another panic.
"I…" Gale started, looking out the window, his grip on John's hand tightening, almost painfully, "I thought I could handle it…" he muttered, his free hand ghosting over his stump, fingers twitching. His jaw was still tight and John could see the tears swimming in his eyes again.
"Baby…" John started softly, bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing Gale's knuckles, "you don't have to do things alone anymore," he promised, breath hot against Gale's soft hands, "I want to help you, please let me," John begged gently.
"Sorry," Gale whispered, letting his head lean back on the headrets. John kissed his knuckles again before rubbing the back of Gale's hand against his cheek and nosing at his wrist.
"You don't need to apologize, doll," John assured him, keeping his eyes on the road despite the tempation to look at Gale, "I don't completely understand, but I want to, and even more than that I want to be there for you, no matter what, 'kay?" John saw him nod out of the corner of his eye. He knew he was being more romantic then they had been before, knew that they'd never really discussed what they were together, but it felt right. Though he really didn't seem to mind it, he just had to hope Gale truly didn't. After all, if he came on to Gale, moved Gale into his house, but Gale didn't want the same things… It might make things worse for Gale. John kissed Gale's pulse point before letting their hands drop back down, elbow resting on the center console, hands hanging over the cup holder.
"Can… Can I take a nap…? When we get to your- when we get home…?" Gale asked, voice small and nervous, as if afraid to ask, afraid to need, afraid to want. John's heart tightened at the tone, at the way he stuttered to a stop and changed his phrasing.
"You don't need to ask, darlin', you can do whatever you want," John hushed him, squeezing his hand. Gale made a small noise, but he didn't say anything. So John let the conversation lapse, content to let the radio play softly and fill the comfortable silence. He drove carefully, making sure to keep off any snow or ice that had formed or blown into the road, acutely aware of his precious passenger.
#Sky writes#MOTA fic#Modern Professor and Student AU#With a nice big age gap and potentially really screwy power dynamics lmao
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Day 5 ----------------------Read on AO3--------------------------
Pairing: Miri x Gale Prompt: Lazy Mornings Post Canon, fluffy fluff, Married life, SFWish
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The first rays of early morning sun pours in through the windows on the far side of their tower bedroom, bathing the room in orange and gold as the sea breeze gently ruffles the curtains. Husband and wife lay in a tangled heap of limbs in their large four poster-bed, the bedding and pillows eschew from another night in their first 1,000 - loving and learning and bonding together until at last they fell asleep in one another's arms.
Even through their slumber they follow one another’s heat, an endless cycle of pulling and curling and notching of limbs. As they doze now, Gale lays half turned onto his stomach, one arm tucked beneath a pillow. Miri is curled against Gale's back, her face tucked between his shoulder blades and one arm snaked around his side to hold a hand against his chest. Their legs are tangled together and her hips are pressed against his rear.
They breathe together, quiet, steady, and peaceful. Gentle snoring forgone as they move towards wakefulness.
Gale breathes in deeply, rubbing his face into his pillow as he stirs under the pleasant warmth of the sunlight. His lips tip up with a sleepy smile when he feels the weight of Miri’s embrace.
He lets out a long, soft sigh of contentment. He gently intertwines his fingers with the hand she rests on his chest, turning slightly and bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss.
"Good morning," he mumbles, his voice still rough with sleep.
Miri rumbles back a sleepy growl, the vibration rumbling through his chest. She doesn’t stir from where she's pressed against him and Gale lets out a soft chuckle. He can feel the warm puff of her breath against his back, and he gently runs his fingertips along the arm wrapped around his waist.
"Are you planning on staying there all day, my love?" His groggy voice is full of fond teasing.
Miri is reluctant every morning to be pried away from his warmth and the comfort of their bed. Better than any tent or den she’s ever enjoyed in the past. Her arm squeezes more firmly around him.
"Mmm will you let me..." comes Miri’s hoarse reply, rough from a night of crying out under Gale’s thorough ministrations. She nuzzles her face against the smooth skin of his back.
"Tempting as that sounds," he says with a smile in his voice, "I have a few things I need to attend to today, unfortunately. Wouldn't you rather spend some time under the open sky?"
He gently lifts her arm from his waist and turns to face her, his gaze lingering on her sleep-softened features even as her brow furrows. Miri grumbles, immediately winding her arm back around him and nestling closer. Gale lets out a amused huff as she clings to him.
"You're awfully stubborn, aren't you?"
He can't help but find it endearing, and he gently slides his hand down to her hip, stroking her skin with a delicate, caressing touch. His fingers trace along the edge of the sheet that only just covers their hips.
"Mhm," she hums sleepily from where she’s pillowed her face against his chest, "Very."
Gale chuckles again, his hand moving up to run through the tangles of her hair. He gently unties the leather cord that keeps it together at the nape of her neck while she’s sleeping, allowing her long, wine-colored strands to spill out around her like a waterfall. He lets out an appreciative hum as he runs his fingers through the unbraided strands. He loves the way it shimmers in the golden glow of the morning.
"Well, you won't find me complaining," he muses, the huskiness in his voice betraying his growing interest. Miri laughs softly, her eyes finally opening to peer up at him. Brilliant green under the light.
"I did not think so," she murmurs back, lips tipped up in a soft smile.
Gale grins, his gaze roaming across her face as he brushes the loose strands of hair away from her eyes. The morning sunlight dances across her copper skin, casting her in a golden glow. He can feel her breath against his bare chest, and he idly rubs his thumb across the curve of her hip.
"Gods you are lovely," he breathes, his voice laced with affection. Miri hums a happy sound, her smile broadening.
"As are you. The light of the golden hours quite suit you," she returns. The glow of the early morning sun always makes him near radiant - especially the myriad hues in his lovely walnut and ochre eyes. Her free hand lifts to brush his sleep tousled hair from his face.
Miri cherishes these soft, tender moments in bed, morning or evening, when he’s not busy with the next thing or distracted. When he’s wholly focused on the here and now with her. All the better when he’s also glowing.
"Your flattery will get you everywhere, love," he teases, his hand on her hip giving a playful squeeze. Her sweet words and gentle touch spread a warm tingle through his chest.
"It is not flattery." Miri huffs a soft laugh, bringing a hand up to tap the tip on his nose before splaying her fingers over his chest. "I am merely paying my husband his due."
Gale chuckles, his chest rumbling under her palm. He covers her hand with his own, threading their fingers together before bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
"You're too good to me," he murmurs against her skin. His eyes gleam with affection as he gazes down at her, his thumb gently stroking her wrist.
"On the contrary," she replies warmly, "You are infinitely deserving."
Gale's heart melts at her words, the affection in her voice and the soft look in her eyes always making him feel impossibly lucky. No matter how many times she speaks such words, it never ceases to inspire both awe and delight. He brings their joined hands up to rest against his cheek, savoring the warmth of her touch on his face. Miri raises her free hand to cup his other cheek, her gaze full of adoration as she looks up at him.
"What did I do to deserve such a lovely wife?" Gale murmurs, his smile tender.
“I have heard tell you had a hand in saving all of Toril from the grand design," she murmurs playfully, "A hero of Baldur's Gate? Or perhaps it was saving said lovely wife some countless number of times."
Gale grins back at her. "Ah, you've heard about that, have you?" His voice brims with a playful cockiness, tilting his head into her palm as his brow furrows with a cheeky grin. "It was nothing really, just another day in the life of a powerful wizard."
"And so humble too," she teases with a toothy grin. Her thumbs stroke over the high arch of his cheekbones. Gale laughs again, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
"I can be humble when it suits me." he says playfully, gently grabbing her hand and pressing his lips to her palm. "But with a wife as beautiful as you, how could I not boast a little?"
Miri giggles softly. "Hardly the greatest of your achievements."
"Debatable," he returns cheekily, smiling against her palm. He continues to press soft kisses against her skin, holding her gaze with his patented blend of affection and mischief.
"But you certainly rank among the highest," he adds quietly. He pulls her hand down from his cheek to press her palm over his heart. "After all, winning the heart of a woman as lovely as yourself is no small feat either."
"Are you calling me difficult?"
Miri leans in to muffle a laugh against his shoulder, unable to maintain a straight face. Gale grins, always delighting in the sound of her laugh, and he chuckles at her playful indignation. He wraps his arm around her as he rolls onto his back, pulling her close against his side.
"Me? Never," he says saccharinely, his hand idly tracing little circles on her skin. "I wouldn’t dream of calling you difficult, love."
Miri leans up onto her elbows to peer down at him. She grins with furrowed brows. Gale meets her gaze with a cheeky grin of his own, his arm still wrapped around her waist.
"You are endlessly cheeky."
"I prefer the term charming," he says with mock offense, even as he grins. His free hand tugs gently on a lock of her hair.
"You are undoubtedly both, vhenan."
She sets a hand on his chest, her fingers dancing idly over his skin and following the paths of his hair. Those sharp eyes roam over his features, lingering on the healed scar where the orb once colored his skin, and the more prominent scar of her mate mark above it. Miri's soft smile widens a fraction - somewhere between love and smug, possessive satisfaction.
Gale arches a brow at her, his eyes never straying from her face as she trails her fingers over his hair and scars. The touch of her hand against his skin sends a faint tingle through him, and he hums in contentment. His hand rubs her back lazily.
"Are you going to spend the entire morning ogling me?"
Her eyes flick up to his with a cheeky smirk and he can’t help but grin back, his chest warming with affection. Miri's fingers never stop their gentle stroking touches over his chest and his nerves feel set aflame.
"Am I not allowed to appreciate my husband?"
"Of course you can," he says fondly, his hand slowly tracing the curve of her spine. "But if you keep looking at me like that, I might be tempted to keep you in bed all day."
Her eyes close briefly, with an appreciative smile, as she focuses on the touch of his fingers over her skin. She rumbles a soft growl back at him and the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and he smirks back at her. His hand pauses at the small of her back, splaying his fingers against her skin.
"Is that so?" Miri's eyes open to peer at him, her head tilting just so.
"Mhmm," he hums, his gaze darkened slightly. His other hand comes up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, his thumb tracing over her jaw. "Perhaps I should keep you under me, where I can appreciate you properly."
Miri turns her face into his hand, kissing his palm before mouthing at his thumb with her canines. Gale's breath hitches in his throat as her teeth nibbling on his thumb send a jolt of desire through him.
"Careful, love," he says huskily, his eyes darkening. His hand on her back stills, and his gaze fixates on her mouth. "If you keep that up, we might not be getting up anytime soon."
Miri growls with a wolfish grin. "Good. It's much too early for you to be out of bed."
@lanafofana @lastlight-inn @waterdeep-weavemoss
@crimson-and-lavender @feedthepheasants @spooky-lil-bee
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#galemance#primalweave#gale x tav#gale x miri#dr d's blurbapalooza#my writing#kinktober#flufftober#bg3 fanfic
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Hello friend!! I have been thinking about undiagnosed sorcerer Gale a lot lately, so I am making it your problem too.
You only gradually become aware of it, and once you are you wonder how you hadn't noticed. Maybe it's the passage of time, each day one step away from the nautiloid and the Netherbrain and all of it--each day that much more distance from Gale's last audience with Mystra. The burden of the Orb hadn't been yours, but it had been heavy enough that you felt lighter when you saw his face as he stepped out that portal. Maybe, like the wounds you both bring back with you to Waterdeep, your mind needed the chance to heal before it could process even more.
More in this case is living with Gale. It had been one thing being on the road, chased from danger to danger; all you'd been able to think those nights you'd collapsed into his tent with him was we made it, with a fervent hope he'd be next to you when you woke and still next to you the night following. Now, you lie down with him night after night and wake up to him morning after morning, and as you let yourself accept that this is how things will be, you start to notice.
The tower is suffused with magic.
It's not only the spells and wards that Gale has woven into the very heart of it, or the numerous enchantments he's created to make life easier, or the artifacts and books you've brought home with you. It's Gale himself.
Surrounded by magic and slow to shed the exhaustion that's clung to you since Baldur's Gate, you need some time to sense the difference, but once you do it's there, a touch on your sleeve or a whisper to catch your attention. When you search for it you can't see it, there's no breeze to stir the curtains or the profusion of flowers Gale brings home day after day. You don't smell that dreaded rosewater or taste cloying honey-sweetness on your tongue. It's a sense that goes beyond sense, speaking to the parts of you that lie under your bones and between your nerves--it's something that escapes your words just as you think you've found the ones to describe it. The sense of him wraps around you like a comforting memory, smoothing its unfelt fingers across your unquiet spirit; the happiness you feel, the life that suffuses you, doesn't compel you but invites you just to be.
It's different when you're in bed together, like tonight, when Gale is salting your skin with kisses. Tonight he's all around you, flowing into and filling every part of you like water, Gale himself spilling over at the edges. He's not glowing but you feel alight with him, woven into him, his threads twisting around yours to draw you close. You're not in one of his illusions--the world around you is very real, if hazy and distant, and Gale's body is hungry, solid flesh and bone against yours. The sensation doesn't vanish even when Gale pauses to ask you what's wrong and you realize you're staring at him.
"I can feel you," you say awkwardly.
"I'd hope so," Gale says laughingly, though he notices your uncertainty and sits up, bracing himself back on his haunches. "What is it?"
You explain as best you can, though every word out of your mouth sounds more foolish and inaccurate than the last. You find yourself tangled in a thicket of your own making and are just about to panic your way out of it when Gale says, faintly embarrassed, "Oh. That--that hasn't happened in quite some time. Years."
I'm so sorry, friend, that it's taken me so long to reply to your once again beautiful piece. I feel like my writing is pretty awful at the moment so I do apologise. I just wanted to get it out though (despite being in a weird creative space and putting off writing a little bit!)
Thank you so much, as always, for your exquisite work <3 ---
You do not need to ask. There is an intuition that exists between you, so that you often know his intentions before he speaks, and he senses your desire before you tell him. You know that part of this comes from the joining of your souls, sealed by your love. But you suspect the other part comes from something altogether different, that sensation that you cannot yet name.
“Admittedly, it wasn’t as innocuous as what you’ve described, back then.”
He pulls you closer, as if he needs your skin on his, even though you feel his being like a flame inside you.
“By all accounts, there was more force to it. It was more of an explosion, if you would.”
You arch an eyebrow. He flashes you that languid half smirk that drives you wild. You wonder if he feels your arousal as his own, like two rivers flowing into each other. He watches you with dancing eyes, savouring your reaction.
“Not that kind of explosion.”
You laugh a little. His lips are smooth and warm as they graze the tips of your fingers. For a while, you fumble for words to explain, ever grateful for his patience.
“It feels like a spell,” you manage eventually. “Even when you’re not casting. Like I’m floating in the Weave, except that you’re the Weave. You’re all around me, inside me, everywhere.”
He gazes at you, fingering this chin absently. And then he nods. There is a kind of solemnity in the gesture, the slight gathering of Gale’s brow. You wonder how long Gale has hidden this part of his nature, or shied away from examining it too closely.
“When I was a child, I learned to control it. But with you…”
He buries his head into the crook of your neck, the heat of his sigh blazing like your pulse. There is a force to it, then, an ache to his longing. You feel it like a flood.
“I want all of you,” he rasps. “And I want to give you all of me. Perhaps that’s why.”
Your open mouth finds his, wet and desperate. His breaths are ragged, swirling into yours like a clouds swallowing clouds. He is a warm bath, lapping at every inch of you. You are about to drown yourself in him when he draws back, so abruptly you feel bereft.
“Does it disturb you?”
The wavering in his eyes almost makes you wince. Traces of his uncertainty, the measure against which he still judges himself. You shake your head sharply, immediately.
“No.” You press yourself against him, swelling with tenderness and desire. “The more I find out about you, the more I love you. Nothing could make me love you less.”
He hesitates for a moment. You feel, as well as see, the last of his doubt fading. His smile is a ripple of light through you, a pleasure almost as intense as pain.
“That’s a relief,” he whispers, as his fingers flutter downwards, and his taste becomes your own.
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I Just Wanted to Hear the Music Again
Excerpt from The End of All Things on ao3, an Isekai BG3 Romance.
Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader Excerpt Word Count: 2.03K
Current Story Stats:
Words: 107,944
Chapters: 31 (Ongoing)
Hits: 5,457
Kudos: 205
Last Updated: 01-01-2025
Originally Published: 10-10-2024
About the Fic:
The End of All Things is an Isekai-style adult romance set in the world of Baldur's Gate 3. After a sudden death, the reader is thrust into the Forgotten Realms, navigating a new life filled with danger, loss, and hope. At its core, this fic explores a tender and passionate romance with Gale Dekarios, as two souls find solace and strength in each other while facing the trials of a world on the brink.
“What’s it like?” Gale asks suddenly, his voice soft, like a whisper carried on the wind.
You glance up at him, your brows furrowing slightly. “What’s what like?” you ask, curious yet guarded.
“Your world,” he says, his tone gentle and wistful. “I’ve always wanted to see it the way you saw it. You talk about it like it’s a distant memory, slipping away. I wish I could help you hold onto it.”
The bittersweet weight of his words tugs at your chest. You manage a small, sad smile. “I don’t think words can really do it justice,” you murmur.
He is quiet for a moment, his eyes locked on yours, before he speaks again. “Then show me.”
Your breath catches in your throat. “What?”
“You’ve seen my tower,” he reminds you gently. “You know illusion magic—what it can do. Let me teach you. Let me help you bring your world to life.”
“I…” Your voice falters, uncertainty creeping in as you look around the clearing, the ache in your chest growing sharper with each passing moment. “I don’t know if I can.”
Gale's hand tightens gently around yours, grounding you. “You can,” he reassures you, his voice steady and sure. “You just need to feel it. Let the weave flow through you, and I’ll guide you.”
The earnestness in his eyes leaves no room for doubt, and you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Alright.” He helps you up to your feet by the hand, his touch kind and gentle.
He steps closer to you, his hands lightly brushing against yours as he begins to instruct you, his voice low and soothing. “Close your eyes,” he says softly. “Picture it—not just how it looked, but how it felt. Every detail. The things you loved. The colors, the textures, the light. Draw on those memories. Let them guide you.”
You do as he says, closing your eyes and letting his voice anchor you as you allow the memories to rise to the surface. The familiar hum of the weave begins to pulse through you, tentative at first, and then stronger as Gale's presence steadies. He gently grabs the hand that pulses with the weave and slowly brings it up to the space in front of you, dragging it to the side as the magic begins to materialize following your palm. You can feel your world coming to life before your closed eyes, and a sense of wonder and gratitude washes over you.
As your eyes flutter open, the familiar clearing has transformed into something entirely unexpected. No longer are you surrounded by towering trees and a serene moonlit sky. Instead, you find yourself standing in the center of your old apartment. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the scene before you. The cluttered desk with its slightly pushed back chair as though you’d just stood up, the dimly lit computer screen emitting a faint blue glow. Your phone lays on the neatly made bed, its familiar case still adorned with scratches and scuffs. The shelves are lined with well-loved books, their spines worn from hours of reading. Memories flood back as you absorbed every detail of this unexpected return to your past life.
Gale's eyes widen as they dart around the room, his expression a mix of amazement and wonder. "This is it," he murmurs, almost in disbelief. "Your world."
You nod, your throat feeling tight with emotion. "Yeah… This is where I spent most of my time," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just like I remember."
He walks slowly through the space, his movements careful and almost reverent. His fingers lightly graze the spines of books on the shelves as if he were afraid to disturb them. "These..." he begins, pausing in front of the bookshelves. "Were they stories? Knowledge?"
"Both," you confirm softly. "I loved reading. These were my escape from reality."
Gale smiles in awe, as though he was excited to learn more about you, his hand still hovering near a book but not quite touching it. He turns back to you with a curious expression. "And this?" He gestures towards your desk.
"That's my computer," you say with a hint of pride in your voice. "I...worked on it, played games, connected with friends."
His eyes flick towards the glowing screen, filled with both fascination and confusion at this foreign device. "A gateway to endless possibilities," he muses, awe evident in his tone. "Ingenious."
Your eyes linger on the small speaker sitting on your desk, a mix of longing and fear welling up inside you. You cautiously approach it, your hand shaking as you reach out to touch it. As your fingers pass through the object, a familiar feeling of unreality washed over you, causing a deep sadness to take hold.
Gale appears beside you, his presence offering some comfort in the midst of your conflicted emotions. "What is it?" he asks softly.
"It used to play music," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion. "I wanted to show you, but..."
He smiles gently, his hand guiding yours back towards the speaker. "Illusion magic can be tricky. It may look real, but it doesn't always feel real." He pauses, his fingers leading yours to the speaker once again. "The key is to believe in it, to truly feel it."
You hesitantly reach out again, trembling fingers making contact with the solid object this time. A gasp escapes your lips as you pulled back in disbelief.
"It's okay," Gale reassures you with a warm smile. "I'm here with you."
You tentatively explore the surface of the speaker once more, the physical sensation of it overwhelming your senses. You press the power button, but nothing happens.
Gale’s curiosity didn’t waver as he gently asks, “What did it sound like?”
You hesitate, your fingers brushing over the illusory speaker. The weight of the moment settles over you, and you close your eyes, letting the memory of a song drift to the forefront of your mind. It isn’t about missing it specifically—it is about what it represented. Home, routine, the quiet corners of your life before all this chaos.
“It started slow,” you begin softly, your voice catching on the words. “Just a gentle rhythm, like it was trying to coax you to listen. Then it would build, layer upon layer. The vocals would come in—not perfect, not polished, but raw and real. It was the kind of song that… felt like it understood you.”
The speaker begins to hum faintly, a soft melody threading through the space as if responding to your voice. Gale’s eyes light up with quiet wonder, but he doesn’t speak, letting you continue.
“It wasn’t extraordinary,” you admit, the words tumbling out in a quiet rush. “It wasn’t some grand symphony or a magic spell. It was just something that kept me company. Something that made the loneliness less loud.”
The hum grows fuller, the melody clearer. You open your eyes to see the speaker playing the exact song you’d described. A laugh bubbles up in your throat, caught between disbelief and nervous joy. “It works,” you say shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. The room fills with the music of your old life, perfectly rendered through magic. It's surreal, and for a moment, it almost feels like you’d brought a piece of that world back.
Gale steps closer, his gaze filled with awe. “It’s beautiful,” he says softly, his words reverent. “So much emotion in something so simple.”
You smile at him, but the weight in your chest grows heavier. “I thought I’d forgotten it,” you murmur. “I thought… I wouldn’t remember the sound of it, the way it made me feel.”
Your hand hovers over the desk, longing for something tangible, something real to anchor yourself to. The song fills the room, but your emotions—grief, confusion, gratitude, love—all tangle together, making it harder to hold on. The melody begins to falter, the illusion shimmering as your focus wavered.
“It’s not just the music,” you say, your voice trembling. “It’s everything I used to know. The languages, the way we traveled, the little routines… They’re gone. And even if they weren’t perfect, they were mine. They were all I knew.”
The desk beneath your hand flickers, turning insubstantial. You press harder, desperate to hold onto it. “I love this life,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “I love you, I love the people I’ve met, the strength I’ve found. But sometimes it hits me—this isn’t my world. No matter how much I come to love it, it’s not mine.”
The room begins to dim as the illusion wavers, the walls dissolving into faint ripples of light, cracking under the weight of your emotions. “No,” you whisper, your tone rising to a desperate cry. “No, please!”
Your hand passes through the desk as it dissolved into nothingness and you fall to your knees, your weight having been put on the desk. The speaker follows, the music cutting off mid-note. The remnants of the illusion evaporate like smoke, leaving behind only silence. The loss hits you like a physical blow, a reminder that this is all an echo of something you could never truly reclaim.
The sobs come before you could stop them, raw and unrelenting. You bury your face in your hands, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. It isn’t about wanting to go back; it’s about everything you’ve lost and the impossible task of reconciling the person you were with the person you are becoming.
Gale kneels beside you, his hand warm and steady on your back. He doesn't rush you, doesn't try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. Instead, he waits, grounding you with his presence. His touch, gentle and sure, reminds you that even in this moment of despair, you aren’t alone.
When your sobs begin to subside, you look up at him, your face streaked with tears. “It’s just…” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I don’t even know why it matters so much. It’s not like I wanted to go back. But it was my home. It was all I knew.”
Gale’s eyes soften, his hand brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Because it was yours,” he says gently. “The places, the sounds, the moments—they belonged to you. And losing them, even knowing you can’t return, doesn’t make the pain less real.”
You let out a shaky breath, your tears spilling over again. “I fought so hard to live that life,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I held onto every moment, every scrap of hope, but it still wasn’t enough. And now, I’m here—this life, this chance—I’m grateful for it. I want to hold onto it with everything I have. But seeing this? It reminds me of everything I lost. Everything I’ll never get back.”
Gale’s arms envelope you, his voice a low murmur near your ear. “That loss will always be a part of you, Y/N. But so will your strength—the same strength that brought you here, that built this life you’re grateful for. And you don’t have to carry it all alone.”
You bury your face against his chest, his embrace grounding you as your shoulders shake with renewed sobs. His hand strokes your hair gently, his presence unwavering, like an anchor in the storm. He lets you cry, lets you feel, until the sobs begin to ebb once more.
Pulling back slightly, you rub at your eyes and let out a weak, tearful laugh. “I just wanted to hear the music again,” you say, your voice uneven. “I wanted to share it with you.”
Gale’s hand lingers on your shoulder, his touch steady and reassuring. “And you did,” he says with a small smile. “Even if only for a moment. I heard it. I saw it. And it was beautiful.”
His words wrap around your heart, easing some of the ache. You smile through the tears, your hand resting against his. “Thank you,” you murmur. “For being here. For always being here.”
“Always,” Gale promises, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. He pauses, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. “And when you’re ready, we’ll create something new together—something even more beautiful.”
#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate gale#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 gale#bg3 tav#bg3 x reader#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 isekai#isekai bg3#gale bg3#gale x you#gale x reader#gale x tav#baldurs gate 3#gale dekarios x you#gale dekarios x tav#gale dekarios x reader#gale of waterdeep x tav#gale of waterdeep x you#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale dekarios x y/n#gale of waterdeep x y/n
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So I was tagged by @middlingmay & @swifty-fox days ago but then I had a mental breakdown over choosing which part to share so to make up for that here’s one rly long one and a bit of porn at the end lmao either way figure skating au coming soon ig
When he arrives at John's apartment, he finds him lounging on his bed in a pair of loose, threadbare boxers, a lit joint hanging from his lips. He leans against the bedroom door after shutting it and watches as John brings a hand up to lightly pinch it, inhales, before taking it out of his mouth. Gale’s face immediately wrinkles in disgust at the smell.
“You knew I was coming, did you really have to start with that shit?”
Bucky smirks, sliding it back into his mouth. “I’m sorry princess, I forgot my life revolves around you.” His voice is rough and tight as he holds the smoke in before letting it out in a faint, wispy cloud.
“I texted you in the middle of the afternoon and you immediately responded.”
“That’s just cause I’m easy, doll, don’t mean nothing.”
Gale feels his stomach twist at those words, at the idea of being nothing to John, still on edge from listening to those delusional idiots earlier. He wants to lash out, scream, pissed off at the world that he feels anything at all. Instead, he sneers and drops down onto the bed beside John. He reaches over, plucks the half smoked joint from between John’s lips, and smashes it into nothing in the ashtray resting on John’s stomach as he startles.
“What the fuck, man?”
Gale quickly grabs the overflowing ashtray off John's stomach and slides it on the floor before replying.
“Do you wanna smoke or do you wanna fuck me?"
He watches as John's eyes glaze over the minute he says fuck, unsure whether it's the weed or the idea of Gale underneath him.
"Fuck you, obviously, but that don't mean you need to waste my shit."
Gale can't fight his eye roll, "Get the fuck over it, I'm doing you a favor even being in your bed right now and you're worried about some shitty weed that's probably mostly seeds and stems instead of the fact that I could be anywhere else right now."
John jerks up, an affronted noise falling from his lips. "First, you don't come into a man's bed and insult his rolling capabilities, no joint I've ever rolled has had any stems in it, and second-"
Gale doesn't even let him finish before he's slapping a hand across his mouth, looking him straight in the eyes from inches away. "Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, John."
and some porn for u all:
He feels more than hears John groan against his neck.
"Fuck, doll, you gotta try and be quiet, baby, two of my roommates are home."
Like Gale has any control over the noises John is punching out of his body right now. Like Gale wants to sound like a desperate bitch in heat the moment John's cock is inside of him. Like John isn't doubling his efforts and fucking into Gale even harder and faster, one hand tangling into Gale's hair as he pulls Gale against his shoulder to try and muffle the sounds.
Gale's teeth are latching onto the skin and biting down before he even knows what he's doing. He can feel John's hips jerk and stutter inside of him at the feeling of Gale's blunt teeth imbedding themselves into the thick meat of John's shoulder.
not tagging anyone bc I’m so late but I am on ur blogs and in ur walls reading whatever snippets you post so pls post them so I can have nutrients <3
#also there will be mistakes and no u did not see them#also v subject to change#but enjoy ig lmao#mine: writing#mota fanfic
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Honeysuckle Rose • Part 3
featuring @ginabaker1666 's oc Valencia <3
part 1 part 2 masterlist
olive's playlist
taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @bobparkhurst @bloodynereid
Kneeling down to greet the dog, Olive lets out a giggle as he sniffs at her face. “Was it you I heard?” she murmurs, hoping the man in front of her doesn't hear. The dog looks back at her with, somehow, a knowing look in his shiny eyes. “How did you bring me here?”
Olive begins to stand, making a nod towards Benny. “He likes you,” he says, now himself bending down to pet the dog. “That was fast.”
“That wolf likes everyone,” a blonde man pipes up from near the airplane door. “So long as they smell good or have food, he's their friend.”
“Hey, Gale, don't tell her that,” Benny replies through gritted teeth. Gale realizes in a second what he means.
“Oh–oh I mean, well….yeah, I guess he's taken a shine to her quicker than he did with most of us.” With that, he clambers into the plane, his cheeks a little flushed from Benny's sudden confrontation. Olive giggles at the exchange, stood there awkwardly.
“Well, I'd better go,” he says, letting go of Meatball's leash. “Go to Kenny, boy,” he softly commands as he gestures across the airfield to a young man, his curls under a woolen hat, much too hot for a day like today. The dog bounds off in the opposite direction, Benny shaking his head and smiling. “Ah, guess he wants to see his girl Tattie instead,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes coming back to you. “It was nice to meet ya, Olive.”
“Yeah, you too,” she smiles demurely, beginning to walk away.
“Will you be around later?” He shouts over the noise. “I'd love to take you for a drink when I'm back.”
“Oh, sure,” she replies, her face turning a little red. “I'd like that.”
“Okay. Great. See ya.”
Olive turns away and begins to show panic on her face. “What the fuck is going on?” She asks herself under her breath. “How on earth did I get here?” She begins to breathe in and out slowly, butterflies rising up in her stomach as she recounts the way Benny looked at her. ‘Not my usual type,’ she thinks, struggling to find a sense of direction. ‘But still, cute.’
Finding herself somehow still following the dog - if he led her there, she thinks, maybe he has a good idea of where to take her now - she comes across him barking loudly at a dark haired woman who can't quite seem to wrangle him and tend to her work. She stands at medium height in a blue fitted jumpsuit that is perfectly tailored in all the right places, the color of it bringing out the chocolate brown of her eyes. As Olive takes her in, Meatball begins wrapping himself about her legs, the leash basically tying her up.
“No, no! Darn dog, why don't you ever listen. Meatball, stop. Stop!” she yells, obviously exasperated.
“Hey, hey,” Olive says, trying to bring the excited dog to a stop. “Stop wrapping yourself around this nice lady, huh?” Olive gently begins unraveling the leash from the woman's legs, the woman looking down at her gratefully. “There we go,” she says, fussing with the dog's ears as he pants in her face.
“Gee, thanks,” the woman begins with a sigh. “I can never seem to control him. Only Benny seems to know how. You must be some sort of dog whisperer.”
“No, ma'am,” Olive responds, laughing. “He just seems to have taken a shine to me.”
“You can say that again,” she grins, her red lips smooth and shiny. “I'm Tattie. What's your name?”
“Olive. Olive Lewis,” she says for the second time that day. Tattie turns her head to the side slightly, looking her up and down.
“Don't suppose you want a job for the day? I'm a girl down. Helen is sick in bed with God knows what and I can't take care of this dog and make sure these boys are placated when they get back. Wanna help out?”
“I'd love to,” Olive responds keenly. “What do I need to do?”
“Can ya pour coffee?”
“Sure can, with a pretty smile too,” Olive says, remembering her hellish shifts as a barista between acting jobs in London's busiest coffee shop.
“Well, then. There we go. Come on, I'll show you around.”
“Here's our little Clubmobile. The boys usually come here before making their way over to the hardstand. They can grab coffee and donuts here. They've probably already eaten breakfast, but it's a little bit of home, isn't it? Lord knows these fellas need some normalcy in all this.” Olive nods, understanding. When living in London, Olive loved nothing more than recreating Pearl’s steak pie, eating it while watching her favorite soap opera. A little bit of home.
Tattie then gestures over to the other woman in the truck. The brown haired, green eyed beautifully made up girl nods politely at Olive as Tattie introduces them, Olive seeing a little scowl as she does so.
“Valencia can take it from here. I'll be back.”
Valencia walks up to Olive, her red lips pursed a little. She reaches a hand out in greeting and shakes Olive's, who is a little taken aback.
“Tattie introduces me as Valencia, but please call me Val.”
“Alright, Val,” Olive replies, winking. The scowl seems to melt away instantly, her pretty face softening.
“My gosh, you're English,” she giggles. “You may be the first American Red Cross girl from England. Boy, aren't we special!”
“Only for today, apparently. Let's not celebrate it quite yet, Val.”
“No, you'll be back. I'll make sure of it.” She nudges Olive playfully. “I like you already.”
—
“So, you can see we’re not exactly rushed off our feet here when the boys go up,” Val says, sat on a chair with her legs up on a table, fiddling with her perfectly manicured nails. “I sometimes help Chick with some secretarial work to pass the time. Typing records, that kind of thing.”
Right on cue, a man comes bursting through the door of the hut, making Val jump. “Talk of the devil,” she murmurs, standing up quickly. “Jesus, Chick. Almost jumped outta my skin.”
“Then you best start being on your guard a little more. Less relaxed. We're at war!” he laughs. “Be a doll and grab me a coffee?”
“I'll get it,” Olive says, her eyes darting between the two nervously. Chick's eyes seem to narrow when he hears an accent that is not American, his head jerking back a little in surprise. “How do you like it?”
“Cream and sugar, please, Miss, uh–”
“Lewis. Olive.” She departs the hut, making her way into the truck to see Meatball finally resting, his head on Tattie’s legs as she reads the newspaper.
“Who's that for?”
“Val told me his name was Chick?”
“Oh, shit,” she says, putting the paper on the counter.
“Hey, don't worry,” Olive says, pouring the coffee into a paper mug. “I volunteered.”
“It's not that I'm worried about,” she says as she sees Chick walks slowly up to the door of the Clubmobile. “Watch the dog.”
Olive places the cup of coffee on the serving hatch of the truck, eavesdropping on the conversation between Chick and Tattie.
“What in God's name is an English girl doing here?”
“I'm a girl down, Chicky–”
“Ms Tattie, you know I hate that nickname–”
“And I need an extra pair of hands while Helen is sick in bed.”
“You wouldn't need that if Demarco ever tried training that damn dog of his.”
“Chicky, come on,” she pleads. “Let me keep her on. She's delightful, already great with Meatball - can you believe he listened to her the first time she asked? - and she gets on so well with Valencia already. Please, Chick. Just this once.”
“Fine,” he relents, his Southern drawl really coming through on the exasperated word. He collects the coffee from where Olive set it and takes a sip, his face a picture of surprise.
“For a Brit, you make a damn good cup of Joe, girl.” Tattie looks at Olive through the hatch and winks knowingly, Olive winking back and giggling.
—
“Come for a drink with us, Ol,” Val asks. “You can meet my guy…and maybe one of your own.” Before Olive can answer, Tattie throws a knowing look over to Val. “She already has, Valencia. Fell at Demarco's feet this morning from what I heard.” Olive's face suddenly turns a light shade of red, giggling under the gaze of the two girls.
“Oooohh!” Val says, poking at Olive. “That was fast.”
“What can I say? Some Brits do work quickly when it comes to romance.”
“I get it. He's cute!”
“Oh, absolutely. Just not my usual type.”
“Who is?” Val asks, a twinkle in her eye.
—
Surveying her as they're about to enter the hut, Val looks her up and down. “You okay if I dress you up a bit? You can borrow one of my dresses. We're about the same size, Ol. Just until you get a uniform tomorrow.”
“Sure, I'd love that. I probably look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards.” Opening the door quietly so as not to wake Helen, Val begins to tiptoe in until she sees the lights are on.
“Oh, hey, girl! This is Olive. She came to the rescue while you were sick today. Seemed to appear from thin air, Tat said.”
“Hi,” the pale, dark haired girl says with a hoarse voice. “I'm Helen. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too. Feeling any better?”
“Sure am. Nurse Tattie's orders to stay in bed despite my insistence actually helped. I'll be back out there with you both tomorrow.”
“You are staying, right?” Val questions, already pawing at the scarf Olive had tied on her head this morning.
“If you'll have me,” she smiles. “I'm sort of in between things right now. I'd love to be with you both, if that's okay with you.”
“Uh, of course, girl!” Val replies, nudging her playfully. “Welcome to our little family. Now, let's get you dressed up.”
—
Val dabs at Olive's face a final time and sighs contentedly. “There, all done. Take a look.”
Olive opens her eyes and gasps softly, a totally different person looking back at her in the mirror. It's exactly how she's always wanted to look: soft pin curls that had been twisted perfectly by Val's deft fingers, the subtle pink blush, brushed gently on her cheekbones, the flawless eyeliner upon her eyelids. The dress Val had picked, a soft blue shade that brought out the light brown of her hair and her hazel eyes fit perfectly, just as she had thought. Val smiles gently at Olive's reaction, reaching down one last time with a lipstick brush in her hand.
“This is my favorite shade,” she grins, those red lips standing out underneath her green eyes. “Let me try it on you.”
At the final smudge, Olive looks at her reflection once again, and grimaces. “Eugghh,” she scowls. “Val, I think this shade only looks good on certain people. And by certain people, I mean you.”
“And Everett,” she says wistfully, her eyes twinkling as she dips a wash cloth in a bowl of water and begins to wipe at Olive's mouth. The two girls make eye contact and giggle, knowing exactly what she means. “Let's try this one,” she says, once again digging around her makeup box. She holds a more pink-red shade up to Olive's face and nods, dabbing at the stick with a new brush. “There, much better.”
—
“Helen, are you sure you're not coming?” Olive asks as her and Val stand up to leave.
“No, dolls. I'm almost at the end of this dang flu though, so I'll see you tomorrow? Olive, I'll make sure your bunk is ready for tomorrow night.”
“Did anyone change the sheet since Curt was in here with Nurse Itchy?”
“Eugh, no! I'm glad you reminded me. I don't want Olive sleeping in that.”
“Nurse Itchy?” Olive squeals, slightly confused but giggling nevertheless.
“Nurse Itchy,” Helen nods, sniffling slightly as she laughs along. “She'd been getting everyone, uh, sick, which I think goes against some sort of code. Anyway–”
“Anyway,” Val interrupts, overlapping Helen. “I was fixing Curt's shirt - you may meet him tonight, he's been my best friend since we were sandbox kids - and he came by to pick it up. He decided to bring company and in return, probably caught the clap.”
“Yeah, him and five others,” Helen titters, shaking her head.
“Oh, minging!”
“Eeewwww, ming-ing,” the other girls playfully mock in a faux British accent. “That's such a great word, I need to keep that in my pocket.”
“Minging,” Helen repeats as she lays her head on her pillow. “That's excellent!”
—
Entering the club, Val grabs Olive by the hand and pulls her towards her ‘usual’ spot, right by the bar.
“Jesus, Valencia,” Olive grumbles. “Almost pulled my elbow out of its socket.”
“Oh, don't be a baby,” she winks, pulling off her jacket and placing it on the back of her chair. “Anyway, had to rush for the perfect spot before Itchy and Co came along and took it. Look,” she points across the room to two men sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The taller one, with light brown hair looks over and winks. Val giggles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That's my Ev. Everett Blakely.”
“Oh!” Olive begins. “He's very handsome.”
“You got that right, doll. There, next to him, is his best friend. James Douglass.” Olive tries her best to look behind the tall Blakely, and as she does, she makes eye contact with James. It's as if the world stops turning for a second, her breath caught in her throat. “Fuck me,” she chokes out, pretending to fan herself. “That's one handsome bastard.” He pats Everett on the shoulder, his mouth agape. As smooth as silk, he winks at Olive and goes back to his conversation.
“Ohhhh,” Val teases. “More your type, huh?”
Right on cue, Demarco sidles up to the table, Meatball at his side.
“Hi,” he smiles, a hand outstretched. “Can I get you a drink?” Leading her to the bar, Olive turns around and nervously glances at Val who nods, egging her on just as Ev perches on the seat Olive just abandoned.
“That'd be lovely. An Old Fashioned, please.”
“Sure.”
“And how's my new best friend doing?” she asks, crouching to pet the dog. “Huh? You doing okay? Tired from running Miss Tattie ragged all day?”
“Ah, he's really no trouble.”
“Don't hear Tattie hear you say that,” she grins. “He tied himself up around her earlier and she was not pleased. Not to mention the fur on the donuts.”
“It's just an extra sprinkle of love!”
“It ain't love,” a voice calls from behind Olive. “I don't like hair in my mouth at the best of times as it is. But on my donut? Come on, Benny.” Olive turns to see Douglass, cheekily smiling at Benny, who, in turn, has clenched his jaw.
“Come on, man,” he says, patting his shoulder. “You know I'm kidding.” Within an instant, Demarco's jaw has relaxed and he's laughing along with James, them playfully shoving each other.
Demarco leans over the bar to order their drinks as James remains beside Olive.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, not making eye contact.
“Oh, Benny's actually just getting me one. Maybe you can get me the next one. If you get there in time.”
“Oh, I see,” he teases. “Well, I'll try my best to keep an eye on you. The second I see that glass empty, I'm on it.”
“Sure,” Olive giggles. “I'll be waiting.”
—
True to his word, the second Olive drains her glass, another is put in front of her. James is stood in front of the table Olive and Benny are sitting at, his chest slightly puffed out. “Told ya,” he said, clicking his tongue as he winks. Walking away, he joins Ev and Val at their table, pointedly pulling out an empty seat next to him. Pretending to join their conversation, he sips from his drink, his eyes dragging their way up and down Olive's body in such a way that she feels her stomach seize up in such a way that it makes her knees weak. She is glad to be sitting down, her thighs squeezing together as if they have a mind of their own.
“Right,” Benny says, putting his whiskey glass down louder than intended. “I gotta make sure Meatball gets outside before I get to bed. Will I see you tomorrow? I could walk ya home if you like?”
“No!” Olive blurts, panicking slightly. “I mean, no thanks. I'm good, I got it. But yes, you'll see me tomorrow. I'll save a donut for you and Meatball.”
“Perfect,” he says, standing up. “Goodnight.” He leans forward and kisses her gently on the cheek. Nodding at her, he leads Meatball out of the bar, Olive turning and puffing her cheeks out in some kind of unknown relief.
She's alone for a millisecond before James is back beside her, handing her a cigarette. “You smoke?”
“I do. Can you believe I forgot mine in my purse at home?”
“At home? Don't you live here with Val and Helen?”
“Not yet. As of tomorrow, yes.”
“Can't wait for the prettiest girl in all of East Anglia to hand me a donut and a cup of coffee every morning.”
“Oh, stop,” she grins, the cigarette between her lips, feeling her cheeks grow pinker by the second.
“Bet I can make ya laugh in one second.”
“Really?” She says, eyes narrowing. “Go for it.”
“What's the difference between a hippo and a zippo?”
“I don't know, James. What is the difference?”
“One is really heavy,” he begins, pulling his own zippo from his pocket. “The other is a little lighter!”
The cackle that leaves Olive's body has her instantly clamping a hand over her mouth, the other on her stomach. “That's a great laugh,” he says, lighting her cigarette for her as her hand leaves her mouth. “Don't cover your mouth when you laugh, though. You have a pretty smile.”
“Thanks,” she giggles, taking a drag of the cigarette.
“Come on,” he says, his own cigarette between his teeth. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and she instantly cozies up to him. “Come sit with us. Saved you a seat.”
Val smiles up at the couple as they sit down, James's arm only leaving Olive's shoulders for a moment.
“Ev, this is Olive, who I was telling you about. She'll be joining us on the Clubmobile as of tomorrow.”
“Hey, Olive. I see you've already met my pal Dougie here.”
“Sure have. With a terrible joke, too.”
“Not the hippo zippo one again!”
“She laughed her ass off, Ev.”
“She's just being polite.”
“No, seriously. It tickled me,” she interjects, winking at Dougie. He grins back, lighting another smoke.
“Another drink, sweetheart?” Ev asks Val as he gets up.
“Yes, please, honey,” she smiles.
“Olive?”
“Yeah, go on then.” He nods.
“Dougie, come give me a hand, bud.”
As soon as the boys depart, a shorter man with perfectly slicked dark hair slinks up to Val.
“Valencia, my best buddy,” he says, setting his beer on the table. “Who's ya new friend?”
“Curtis, you're a pain in my ass,” Val says through gritted teeth. “Get!”
“Alright, fine,” he laughs, winking at both the girls.
“I don't want you to catch his itch,” Val laughs.
“Honestly, I don't want to itch either, girl.”
The boys return, Val instantly making heart eyes at her man. Dougie plonks down heavily next to Olive, his hand finding its way to her thigh.
“So, tell me about yourself.”
“What do you wanna know?” she asks, sipping her drink.
“Everything. We got all night.”
read part 4 here
#masters of the air#mota#masters of the air fic#mota fic#Honeysuckle Rose#Olive Lewis#benny demarco#james douglass#Valencia DiRosano#everett blakely#time travel#1944#thorpe abbotts#ww2#wwii#benny demarco x oc#james douglass x oc#everett blakely x oc#oc: valencia dirosano#oc: olive lewis#🫒#winnie writes
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Reopened Wounds
Chapter 1 : Crusted Blood
Warnings - Spawn Astarion, Alcohol, Blood, female reader
How long has it been, a day a few weeks? The details are hazy to you as both you and your lover Astarion are freed from the control of the tadpoles.
You don't want to complain too much, for the Absolute did give you Astarion to bond with.
Sitting on the bed in one of the rooms of the Elfsong tavern you wait for Astarion to return to you as he had been hunting.
His vampire powers had returned to him after the tadpole was removed, he had his strength and his speed that could put anyone to shame.
Often times Astarion wouldn't drink from you too much as he was afraid of hurting you with his strength and he clearly did not want that.
Staring at the ceiling of the room, you fiddled with your small clothes feeling undeniably bored, it was nighttime but you couldn't sleep, to busy thinking about everything, your mind restless as you stared at the shabby walls that lacked the colour or lively nature that you were too familiar with.
Your fingers absentmindedly traced the scars on your neck, remembering the times when Astarion would feed on you while you slept soundly in your bedroll, the scar had tiny scabs that would reopen from your fingers or even Astarion's fangs.
Scratching your neck, you pick at your skin until you see the crimson liquid of your blood on your delicate fingers, glancing at the vibrant colour you lick the pads of your fingers savouring the taste of copper and iron.
Your neck continues to bleed slowly, you can't bring yourself to care to much as you know you won't bleed to death.
Sleep takes you as you fall asleep with your hand on your neck.
It's quiet when Astarion returns, his belly is full and he carries a bottle of bought (stolen) wine.
Setting in in his pack, the silver haired male stripped out of his clothes and dressed in his small clothes, hopping beside you, Astarion wraps his arms around your waist his eyes ghosting over your reopened wound that calls out to him as he ignores it and falls into a comfortable trance.
Waking up to cold arms wrapped around you, you yawn quietly and look over where Astarion is still trancing.
You run your hand over your horns checking for any bumps or bruises but you can't find any.
Your tail curled around your leg as you shifted in the bed.
Eventually, Astarion's eyes opened, "My dear, apologies for last night, it took me quite a while to find anything to hunt." You look at him thoughtfully before responding "Oh? Maybe we're too far from the forests, there's something I wanted to talk to you about too."
Astarion looks at you, curiosity etched on his face as he reaches for your hand, "Everything all right, Darling?", he watches you almost scared your going to drop a massive bombshell on him.
"Nothing to worrying, I was just wondering if you wanted to explore perhaps? Maybe see if we can find any cures to your vampirism, I heard from Gale that we could try looking for a Wish spell." You bite your lip to stop yourself from talking his ears off, Astarion looks at you a small smile appearing on his face, "Adventuring? Well I suppose we could and you are good company to have I presume.." Astarion smirked as he processed your proposition, "Ugh Gale? Why him? You could have refrained from mentioning him." He giggled quietly as he looked at your unimpressed face, "Gale's our friend Astarion." You reply calmly, "Yes I know that but he is such a bore."
Rolling your eyes, you playfully swat Astarion's arm, "Astarion, he's a great wizard." You reply, your tail curling around itself.
"Yeah yeah, Ex Chosen of Mystra we've all heard it over and over." Astarion looks at you before rolling his eyes himself.
"Now should we dress and start adventuring for cures for your vampirism?" You ask cautiously, your eyes trying to read Astarion's, "I suppose we shall, what does the mighty Gale think we should look for first?"
"He doesn't know where we should start looking but maybe around Candlekeep, if it isn't there we can just explore?" You suggest, looking at Astarion with wide eyes.
"Perhaps, alright, we'll start with Candlekeep."
The next hour or so had you and Astarion packing up, counting your gold and checking the condition of your weapons, "Astarion, could I wildshape into a cat and you can carry me?" You ask him looking at your armour on the bed, "Absolutely not, come on now."
"Worth a shot." You whispered back, low enough so that he hopefully won't hear you.
Waiting for nightfall, you both leave around Twilight, eager to make tracks as quick as possible.
"Astarion what would you say about camping? Instead of renting rooms?" You ask as you and him walk side by side in the Twilight streets of Baldurs Gate.
"Definitely not, never again." Astarion audibly groans as he remembers the conditions when you and your other friends were travelling to Baldurs Gate.
"If we run out of coin we might have to." You jab at him as you both continue to walk, you don't think you've seen Astarion this happy, it makes sense though, you think as you remember Cazador and everything else that happened here, wordlessly, you offer your hand for Astarion to take.
He gladly accepts and walks with you out of Wyrms Crossing, "I suppose we should camp." Astarion says through gritted teeth, the idea of sleeping on the ground doesn't thrill him but spending more time with you does.
When you find somewhere to camp, you and him help eachother with setting your shared tent up, it feels strange not having the others with you but it is for the best.
Shadowheart had returned home with her parents, vowing to spend as much time as humanly possible.
Lae'zel had gone to fight against Vlaakith in the Astral Planes, Gale was teaching Magic in Waterdeep, Wyll and Karlach were travelling through Avernus to try and fix Karlach's engine.
You wished the very best for them, as you still kept in contact where you could.
Placing two bedrolls beside eachother, you and Astarion laid down, instantly wrapping your arms and legs around eachother, hopefully you can find a cure, you pray to any God or Goddess that can hear you.
Just what trials and troubles will unfold for you and Astarion together.
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all again chap 4 pls!
When John walked inside, Gale was just hanging up the phone, the hand that had been holding it now rubbing over his face. The weariness was evident in his posture. “Hey, something wrong?” “They want me back to work tomorrow,” Gale replied with a sigh. “I knew it was comin’. Don’t think I’d like it no matter when they called, I guess.” “Who’s watching Loretta?” John said, cogs turning in his head, towards something he hoped wouldn’t be a bullet into his foot. "Buddy of mine's wife around the corner- they have a daughter her age," Gale said. “Was gonna call her here in a minute and ask. Don’t know why I didn’t sort this out sooner guess I'm just-.” Just used to my dead wife bein’ a stay at home mom John completed in his head when Gale stopped. He considered throwing out his ask for now, surely he still had a way to go with earning his trust- with earning any sort of place here, in this. But when he met Gale's eyes, he saw something he hadn’t seen yet in the few days he’d been back. Something he hadn’t seen since he left Wyoming after the wedding, when Gale told him not to be a stranger. He couldn’t run from his own damn self now. Not this time. "Let me?" “Let you what?" Gale searched his face like he was looking for a sign of insincerity, and John took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Y’know, watch Loretta," he said. Gale's expression softened, a flicker of relief in his eyes, even when the next words out of his mouth were another question. "You have work too, do you not?" "Got a meeting in the morning with some guys the Pentagon wants me to talk to, but that's it." John replied, "I can bring her- have her color or something, it’s not gonna be more than an hour." Gale just stared at him for what felt like a long few seconds, quirking his mouth to the side- sucking his cheek in. Finally, he nodded. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay, sure.” There was a moment of silence between that edged into awkward, John rubbing his own arm, looking off at the wall. Gale broke first, clearing his throat. “I finished sorting Marge’s stuff out, by the way,” he said, and John turned his head back to him so quick it made his neck burn. “The guest room is yours if you want it.” John hesitated. One part of him was relieved- for the fact that this felt like some sort of olive branch. The other part of him was still in bed next to Gale at the hotel, something that felt akin to guilt clawing its way towards his frontal lobe. “I- I don’t want to be in your hair, I got a hotel, like you asked.” “I’m sure, I…” Gale trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “Easier for tomorrow at least, with you watchin Loretta.”
#babiessssss#my sweet babies#the actual chapter should be out within the next few days ive been chugging it at since ive had more time#clegan#buck x bucky
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I Hail from Silverymoon: The New Beginning
POV my little fanfic Astarion X Amaara(my Tav). I won't delve into the ending of BG3, as it tends to put me in a sour mood. I just want to say that as someone who is married for 10+ years, I can already hear Astarion bringing up his "sacrifice" over and over and over again in their future.
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The morning after their wild victory celebration, Astarion had woken up feeling rather content, despite the fact that he lost the ability to walk under the sun. The room was beautifully decorated, and having Amaara next to him was nice.
"Good morning, my sweet," he purred into her ear, his lips brushing gently against her skin. He expected her to respond with a playful smile or a teasing remark, as they often did when sharing such intimate moments.
However, her groggy reply had taken him aback. "No, let me sleep," she muttered, turning away from him.
Astarion chuckled softly, but he continued to attempt to engage her in conversation. He gently nibbled on her ear, and whispered, "I was thinking about going to the Underdark, the spawns we freed need a leader."
"You can go," she muttered, seemingly without any hesitation. Astarion's frustration grew as he realized that she was agreeing to him leaving alone.
"And where will you be going?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation and hurt.
Amaara, still battling a throbbing headache and not fully awake, replied without much thought, "I am going to Waterdeep with Gale."
Astarion's anger flared. "What? With Gale? " He raised his voice, "After everything I sacrificed for you? How can you do this to me?" he said, his voice tinged with hurt.
Amaara was taken aback by his sudden outburst. She winced as the noise aggravated her hangover, and she gingerly sat up in bed, cradling her throbbing head. Confusion clouded her expression as she tried to make sense of his words.
"What did you sacrifice?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine puzzlement. She truly didn't understand what he was referring to. "And what did I do?"
Astarion took a deep breath, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. He looked at her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. Finally, he said, "I gave up the profane ascension for you! I gave up my ability to be under the sun for you! Now, you are casting me aside?"
"Wait, what? I am not casting you anywhere," Amaara replied, her confusion deepening. Her foggy mind struggled to make sense of the situation. "I am going to Waterdeep, with Gale." she repeated, "we talked about this, now you don't want to go with us, you wish to go to the Underdark, I respect your decisions. I will go find you once I am able."
"When did we talk about this?" Astarion was furious, "You would rather travel with Gale than with me?"
"…" Amaara was getting pretty frustrated too, her head felt like splitting open, patience, Amaara, she took a deep breath. "We talked about this right after Cazador's death. I said I will go to Waterdeep, Candlekeep, and even Silverymoon to find a cure for you." She signed, "now we have Mystra's chosen as a friend, I intend to use that connection. I assumed you would go with me, but you are your own person and can make your own decisions. Maybe it is for the best if you go wait for me in the Underdark."
Amaara's explanation seemed to calm Astarion's anger somewhat, although a trace of frustration still lingered in his voice. "I don't remember much from that day," he admitted, "I was not myself." He paused, then he said with a small voice, "I would still like to travel with you."
"Then we will travel at night and rest during the day. "She smiled. "We have to wait for Gale to return from Mystra. In the meantime, I will dig in Baldur's Gate to see if there is anything helpful here. Waterdeep is more promising though. In our travels, I found a hint that the Cloak of Dragomir was last seen around Waterdeep."
"What is that?" he asked.
"A cloak that allows a vampire to travel outside during the day in full view of the sun." She answered, "with drawn backs, of course, you will probably hate it, but we will have more autonomy with it. We won’t always be in the cities. There is that ancient dragon who ate my entire caravan when I was traveling to Baldur’s gate. I want to see if there is a wish spell somewhere in her hoard."
"You…put a lot of thoughts into this." His voice grew quiet.
Amaara couldn't help but chuckle at his comment, "Well, someone has to think ahead," she teased, "especially when I have a lover as reckless as you."
A smile appear on Astarion's face, "I am sorry about earlier."
"It's alright," she reassured him. "I understand you were frustrated. Forgive me for being unclear too. I am having a massive hangover. Please take pity on your lover who does not share your fast regeneration."
He grinned mischievously. "Ah, but that's the price of a good time, my dear. Perhaps I should teach you a thing or two about handling your drinks."
Amaara chuckled, her fingers gently tracing a pattern on his arm. "Then it's settled. We'll search the city and wait for Gale to return. And when he does, we'll set out on our journey together."
Astarion leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. "I look forward to our adventures, my dear. Everything is a lot more fun when we do it together. We make an excellent team."
With their plans now aligned and their connection strengthened, they faced the uncertain future with renewed determination and hope.
#baldur's gate 3#astarion fanart#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#baldurs gate 3 fanart#astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#procreate#i hail from silverymoon#my tav#amaara ashvale
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