#soft Gale today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonselune · 2 months ago

Note

Dealer's choice companions with a Tav/reader who has shaky hands, if that's okay? :]

I did with the boys to show them some love <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

It had been a long, exhausting day. The kind where the hours seemed to drag on and yet everything felt incomplete. You tried to shake off the tension as you entered the small cottage you shared with Gale, the warmth of the fire welcoming you. The air was filled with the faint scent of herbs and parchment—familiar, comforting.

You’d been holding yourself together all day, but now, in the quiet of your home, the tremor in your hands that had been nagging at you all day seemed worse. It was always there—sometimes manageable, sometimes barely noticeable. But today, it felt like a persistent reminder of something you couldn’t control.

You moved to the edge of the camp, where Shadowheart kept her best reserves, wanting nothing more than to pour yourself a drink and settle down for the night. As you lifted the glass, your hand began to shake, gently at first, but enough to make you hesitate. With a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself, your fingers gripping the bottle tightly as you poured. But it wasn’t enough.

The glass slipped from your grasp, crashing to the floor with a sharp sound that echoed through the cottage. Liquid splattered across the floor, and the tremor that had started in your hand seemed to spread through your entire body. You stared down at the mess, frustration and exhaustion swirling in your chest.

"Damn it!" you cursed, your voice catching as the flood of emotions you'd been holding back broke free. Anger, frustration, shame—they all hit you at once. Tears blurred your vision as you dropped to your knees, trying to pick up the shards of glass with shaking hands, only for the tremors to make it nearly impossible.

"Hey… hey, it’s alright."

Gale’s voice was soft, but firm, cutting through your frustration. You hadn’t even heard him come in. He was suddenly there, crouching beside you, his hand gently resting on your arm. You could feel his presence like a calm anchor in the storm swirling inside you.

You shook your head, pulling away slightly. "No, it’s not alright," you muttered, your voice thick with emotion. "I can’t… I can’t even hold a glass properly. I’m so tired of this."

Gale didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he reached for your hands, his touch gentle but insistent, stopping you from trying to pick up the glass. His fingers wrapped around yours, steadying them in a way you couldn’t do on your own.

"Let me take care of this," he said softly, his eyes filled with understanding. You tried to pull your hands away again, but the tremors wouldn’t stop, and it only made your frustration worse.

"I’m useless like this," you whispered, your voice breaking as you finally let the tears fall. "I hate it. I hate feeling like I’m not in control."

Gale paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. He let go of your hands and cupped your face instead, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears.

"You are far from useless," he said, his voice firm but filled with kindness. "This tremor… it’s a part of you, yes. But it doesn’t define you. And it certainly doesn’t make you any less of who you are."

You stared at him, feeling the weight of his words but still caught in the overwhelming frustration that had been building up for days, maybe even weeks. "But it’s so damn frustrating, Gale. Some days, I can manage it. I can get through. But others… I just feel like it’s too much. I don’t want to feel this way."

He nodded, understanding in his gaze, as though he had expected your words. He shifted, sitting down on the floor beside you, not caring about the mess, not caring about anything except you.

"I know. And it’s okay to feel like this. You don’t have to be strong all the time, not for me, not for anyone." His fingers moved through your hair, a soothing gesture that helped calm the chaos inside you, if only a little. "You’ve been through so much today. Let me help."

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. His words, his presence, the way he held you with such care—it made the overwhelming emotions in your chest feel less suffocating. You leaned into his touch, resting your forehead against his shoulder, the exhaustion finally catching up with you.

"I just don’t want to feel weak," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You’re not weak," Gale said softly, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. "You’re human. And you’re allowed to have moments where things feel too heavy. But I’m here with you. We’ll get through this together."

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in Gale’s warmth, letting the steady rise and fall of his breath calm your own. Slowly, the tremors began to ease, not completely, but enough that you could breathe again without the weight of frustration crushing you. After a while, Gale shifted, his hand resting lightly on your back.

"Let’s clean this up together," he suggested gently, his tone patient and without a hint of judgment.

You nodded, feeling a bit more grounded as he helped you stand. Together, you cleaned the broken glass and the spilled drink. Gale moved with a quiet efficiency, never rushing you, never making you feel like a burden. Once everything was cleaned, he poured you a fresh drink, his hands steady where yours still trembled slightly.

"Here," he said, handing it to you with a small smile. "Take your time."

You took the glass, feeling the weight of the day slowly lifting as you sipped. Gale sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You don’t have to go through this alone," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "I’m here. Always."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The night had been difficult, and as you sat in your tent, the events of the day weighed heavily on you. Your hands shook slightly as you tried to go about your usual tasks, the tremors a result of lingering adrenaline and nerves. You didn’t want to show weakness, especially not in front of Astarion, but it seemed that nothing escaped his keen eyes.

He slipped into the tent silently, his presence both comforting and disarming. Astarion didn’t say anything at first, merely watching you with those sharp eyes of his. When he noticed the way your hands trembled, he frowned slightly, concern flashing across his features.

“You’re shaking,” he observed quietly, his voice unusually soft. It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of fact.

You tried to brush it off, forcing a smile as you continued with your task. “It’s nothing, just… a bit of residual tension.”

Astarion wasn’t convinced. He moved closer, gently taking whatever you were holding out of your hands and setting it aside.

“You don’t need to pretend with me,” he said, his voice holding an uncharacteristic gentleness. “Let me help.”

Before you could protest, Astarion took your hands in his, his touch surprisingly tender. His fingers were cool against your skin, but his grip was firm, grounding. He didn’t let go, instead rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands with his thumbs. The simple act of touch, of his focus entirely on you, made your breath catch in your throat.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Astarion murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s only natural to feel… off.”

You let out a shaky breath, the tension in your body slowly starting to ebb away under his touch.

“I just don’t want to seem weak,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Astarion’s expression softened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re anything but weak,” he said firmly. “It takes strength to keep going, even when your body betrays you.”

He brought one of your hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture was intimate, tender, and it made your heart skip a beat. Astarion, who usually shied away from vulnerability, was showing you a side of himself that few ever saw. It made you feel seen, cared for in a way that went beyond words.

“Just focus on me,” Astarion whispered, his voice low and soothing. “Let the rest of the world fade away, just for a moment.”

You did as he asked, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of his hands holding yours, the warmth of his breath against your skin, the gentle pressure of his lips as he kissed your knuckles again. Slowly, your breathing evened out, and the trembling in your hands began to subside.

When you finally opened your eyes, Astarion was watching you with a small, almost shy smile. “Better?” he asked, though the concern in his eyes hadn’t entirely faded.

You nodded, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. “Much better,” you replied softly. “Thank you.”

Astarion squeezed your hands gently before letting go, though he didn’t move far, staying close enough that you could feel his presence like a protective shield.

“Anytime, darling,” he said with a playful smirk, though his eyes still held that same tender concern. “I’m always here to lend a hand, or two, if you need them.”

The playful tone made you chuckle, and you felt the last of the tension leave your body.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The day had been a blur of battles and close calls, and by the time you reached the camp, the adrenaline that had kept you going finally started to wane. You tried to push the exhaustion aside, focusing on the simple tasks of setting up for the evening. But as you reached for your bedroll, your hands betrayed you, shaking uncontrollably. You cursed under your breath, frustrated at your body’s refusal to cooperate.

Wyll, your dearest love, noticed immediately. He was by your side in an instant, his dark eyes filled with concern as he gently took your hands in his. His touch was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the tremors that coursed through your own fingers.

“Hey,” Wyll said softly, his voice carrying that familiar, soothing tone he used when he was trying to comfort you. “Take a breath. You’ve been through a lot today. It’s okay to let yourself rest.”

You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied, attempting to pull your hands away. “Just need to get this done.”

Wyll didn’t let go. Instead, he tightened his grip just enough to stop you from pulling away. His thumbs traced gentle circles on the back of your hands, grounding you in the present moment.

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” he reminded you, his voice firm but kind. “I’m here. Let me help you.”

His words broke through the wall you had tried to build around yourself. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and you let out a shaky breath, finally allowing yourself to lean on him. Wyll guided you to sit down, his hands never leaving yours as he knelt in front of you.

“Just breathe with me,” he encouraged, his own breathing slow and deliberate. “In and out, nice and easy.”

You followed his lead, focusing on the rhythm of his breath, the warmth of his hands, and the steady presence of his gaze. Slowly, the shaking began to subside, your body responding to the calm that Wyll exuded. He watched you with unwavering attention, his expression one of deep care and affection.

When your hands finally stilled, Wyll gave you a warm smile. “There you go,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride. “You’re stronger than you think, you know that, my love?”

You managed a small smile in return, the weight of the day lifting slightly as you looked into his eyes.

“Only because I have you,” you replied honestly. Wyll chuckled softly, bringing one of your hands up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“And I’ll always be here,” he promised, his voice a vow as much as it was a reassurance. “Whatever you need, I’ll be by your side.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The sun was beginning to set over the camp, casting warm, amber hues across the landscape as you busied yourself near the cooking fire. The day had been long, and everyone was tired. You’d offered to prepare the evening meal, determined to contribute something meaningful to the group. You wanted to prove to yourself that you could still manage, despite the persistent tremor in your hands that had been getting worse.

Chopping vegetables, stirring the pot—tasks that once seemed so simple—now felt like battles. Your hands shook uncontrollably at times, causing the knife to slip or the ingredients to spill. Frustration mounted with each failed attempt, but you kept going. You were too stubborn to stop, too determined to let the tremor win.

As you struggled to chop the carrots, your hands jerked, and a few slices scattered off the chopping board. Cursing under your breath, you bent down to pick them up, your movements shaky and uncoordinated. You could feel eyes on you from the campfire, but you avoided looking up. You didn’t want to see the pity in their faces.

A shadow loomed over you, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was. The scent of pine and earth, the quiet strength in his presence—it was unmistakable.

Halsin.

“You’re struggling,” his deep voice rumbled softly. “Let me help.”

You shook your head quickly, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’ve got it,” you muttered, gripping the knife tighter and returning to the vegetables. “I can do it.”

There was a long pause, and you could feel Halsin watching you, his silent concern heavy in the air. “There is no shame in asking for help when you need it,” he said quietly, crouching beside you.

“I said I’ve got it,” you snapped, harsher than you meant to. The frustration from the day, the trembling in your hands, the feeling of helplessness—it all came out in that one sharp response.

Halsin didn’t react to your tone, his patience unwavering. He reached out, his large hand gently covering yours, stilling the tremor for a moment.

“You don’t need to do this alone,” he said, his voice soft yet firm, offering you a way out without pushing. But you pulled your hand away, gripping the knife tighter, and returned to chopping.

“I need to do this,” you muttered. You needed to prove to yourself that you could. That this tremor wasn’t going to take everything from you.

Halsin sighed, standing up slowly. “Very well,” he said, stepping back. “But be careful.”

You barely heard him as you focused on the vegetables, the tremor in your hands making the task more difficult by the second. Your frustration mounted until, with a sudden jerk of your hand, the knife slipped.

Pain shot through your finger as the blade nicked you. You hissed, dropping the knife as blood welled up from the cut. Before you could react, Halsin was back by your side, kneeling in front of you with a furrowed brow. He gently took your hand in his, inspecting the wound with a soft sigh.

"I warned you," he murmured, his voice both gentle and chastising.

You looked down, your frustration turning inward as the reality of your stubbornness hit. You had tried so hard to do it on your own, to prove something to yourself, and now you had made things worse.

Halsin reached into his satchel, pulling out a strip of clean cloth. “Let me bandage this,” he said, not waiting for your protest as he carefully wrapped the wound. His touch was so gentle, and his large hands so steady, that you couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.

“I… I just wanted to help,” you said, your voice small, almost a whisper. You stared at your trembling hands, the shame of your earlier outburst gnawing at you. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Halsin’s hands stilled, and he looked up at you, his eyes warm and filled with understanding.

“You are never a burden,” he said firmly. “You have nothing to prove, to me or to anyone.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he raised a hand, silencing you with a gentle smile.

“You do not have to fight every battle alone,” he continued. “I know you want to do things on your own, and I admire your strength. But even the strongest among us need help from time to time.”

His words sank in slowly, the weight of your stubbornness lifting just enough for you to see the truth in what he was saying. You hadn’t wanted to show weakness, but in doing so, you had only hurt yourself more.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice cracking as the emotions of the day caught up with you. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… I wanted to be strong.”

Halsin’s expression softened further, and he gently squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your bandaged finger. “Strength isn’t just in doing things on your own,” he said. “It’s in knowing when to accept help, when to lean on those who care about you.”

You nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I just… I didn’t want to feel helpless,” you whispered.

Halsin pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe, grounded.

“You are far from helpless,” he murmured into your hair. “You are capable, and resilient, and stronger than you know. But there is no shame in allowing others to support you.”

You leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace easing the tightness in your chest. For a moment, you allowed yourself to let go, to release the frustration and the need to prove something. In Halsin’s arms, you didn’t have to be strong all the time. You didn’t have to carry the weight alone. After a few moments, he pulled back, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“Now, let’s finish this meal together,” he said with a soft smile. “And next time, you let me help from the start, agreed?”

You managed a small, tired smile. “Agreed.”

Halsin gave you a nod and picked up the knife, his movements steady and sure as he took over where you had left off. And for the first time that day, you felt the weight of your own expectations lifting, replaced by the warmth of knowing you didn’t have to face everything on your own. As Halsin chopped the vegetables with ease, he looked at you from the corner of his eye and smiled.

“We’ll make this a fine meal, together,” he said, his voice filled with quiet assurance. And somehow, you knew he was right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so cute to write and I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

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

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littlejuicebox · 10 months ago

Text

Milk.

Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.

I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.

I need to edit all these headers at some point.

Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please

A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.

-----

Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.

Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.

But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.

However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.

“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.

“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.

You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”

Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”

You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”

There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.

He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”

There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.

“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.

You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”

You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.

“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.

Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.

It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.

Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.

He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.

You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.

“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.

“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.

He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.

Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.

“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”

You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.

He swallows.

And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.

Gods, this man.

You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.

“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.

“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.

“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.

“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.

But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.

“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.

And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.

“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.

“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”

You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.

Oh, he's toying with you.

“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.

“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.

“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.

“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.

He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”

You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.

“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.

“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.

Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.

“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”

“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“

You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.

His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.

Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”

“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.

As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.

It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.

“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”

“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.

The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.

You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.

“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.

“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.

“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."

Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.

“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.

This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.

Anything for daddy.

#astarion fanfic #baulders gate astarion #astarion fic #baulders gate 3 #astarion x reader #baulders gate tav #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion reader insert #dadstarion fic #dadstarion #soft dom astarion #astarion fluff #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #astarion smut #smut

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seradyn · 9 months ago

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Fruit of Our Labor

Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.

Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.

Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.

Word count: 2944

Warnings: references to abuse

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It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.

The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.

You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.

Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.

It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.

So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.

Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.

He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.

You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.

Until it didn’t.

Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.

You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.

You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.

“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.

“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.

“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.

Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.

“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”

Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.

Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.

Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.

“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.

“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.

He wasn’t upset?

“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.

“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.

“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”

You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”

Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.

“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”

It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.

You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.

“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.

“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.

“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”

“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.

You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.

It was about time those memories were replaced.

“You existed. That was enough for me.”

You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.

And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.

You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.

Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.

“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.

It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.

So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.

You would wait an eternity for him.

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First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion

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galeorderbride · 4 months ago

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The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they’d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, ��By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

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sansaorgana · 7 months ago

Note

I don't quite understand if the requests are open, but I can't get it out of my head. Can you write something about Gale Cleven/reader ovulating? (with smut please 🙏🏻🙏🏻)

I really love your writing!!!😭💗

hello, babes! 😊 I tried to write the first request of the Reader ovulating and them trying for a baby with Buck being some sort of a soft!dom and I hope he's soft!dom enough in this fic haha I always imagine him super sweet and vanilla personally tbh 🙈

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

You had a busy day running errands all around town since early morning so you sighed with relief when the evening finally came and you could take a long, relaxing bath before putting on a nightgown and go to bed to read a magazine. Your husband was in his study room downstairs where he was working on some papers for his work but he would usually join you in bed an hour before midnight to read a book as well. You enjoyed those quiet evenings the most out of the whole day.

You sat comfortably with your back resting on the pillow and opened the magazine to look for interesting articles. On one of the pages you spotted a nice advert of a new cosmetic brand. You tilted your head and bit on your lower lip, deciding you would like to try it. So, you opened the drawer of your bedside table and took out your small calendar to write down the brand’s name.

It opened on today’s date and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of a little heart that you had drawn there some time ago. That little heart could mean only one thing – you were ovulating. And because of all your errands on that day, you had completely forgotten about it.

You were actively trying for a baby with Buck. You had wanted a baby before his departure to Europe, actually – you had wanted to have his child in case he wouldn't come back. You hadn’t succeeded back then but in the end it had been for the best. If you had gotten pregnant then, Buck would have missed all of your pregnancy and the first year of your child’s life. But now he was back and the war was over. It was the best time to have a baby and you were determined; tracking your cycle, marking the fertile days in your calendar and following your doctor’s advice about the diet to increase your chances.

You put the calendar and magazine down before jumping out of the bed and fixing your hair quickly in the mirror; taking the rollers out as fast as possible and brushing the waves. Then you put some perfume on and caressed the slight creases on the nightgown’s fabric as you put on a gentle smile and walked out of the bedroom.

You went downstairs and knocked slightly upon the door leading to your husband’s study room. However, you didn’t wait for his reply because you only knocked to announce your arrival so he wouldn’t be startled – you didn’t do that to actually wait for his permission to enter. You pushed the door open and saw Buck sitting by the desk as he sighed at some paperwork in front of him.

“Baby,” you called for him softly and he raised his tired eyes at you.

“What is it, love?” He asked, gently.

“How busy are you?” You stood behind him and put your hands upon his tense shoulders to give them a quick massage. He hummed to himself at the feeling of your soft fingers squeezing all the muscle knots.

“Pretty busy,” he answered and you pouted. “What is it, sugar?”

“I’ve just realised that today’s the best day to make a baby this month,” you whispered, a little shyly. Buck looked up at you with a soft smile and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Really?” He asked and you nodded. “Oh, well, then that is more important. Come here,” he invited you to sit on his lap as he moved away from the desk to make some space.

You sat across his thighs and threw your arms around his neck to clasp your hands behind his head. Buck pulled you closer by your hips and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon your lips. When you broke the kiss, you pressed your forehead to his and rubbed your noses together. You moved your hands to his cheeks as your fingertips caressed the thin scars scattered on his face.

“I want to have your baby,” you breathed out. “Please, I want to make you a daddy,” you pleaded.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Buck kissed your lips again, “I’ll give my wife anything she wants,” he promised with a playful smile. “Come, sweetheart, let me put a baby in you,” he lifted you up as you squealed with a giggle.

Buck moved all the papers to the side in one swift move of his hand before placing you gently on the top of his desk.

“You want to make our baby here?” Your eyes widened at him and he froze with his hands on his belt as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Take me upstairs, baby,” you whined and put your foot on his chest playfully as he grabbed you by your ankle.

“You’re being a brat, Mrs. Cleven,” he warned and you chuckled. “You’re lucky that I’m so in love with you, you know that?”

“Sure, I do, Major,” you saluted and he rolled his eyes before lifting you up bridal style. You threw your arms around him and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

Buck opened the door of his study room with his shoe before taking you upstairs, taking each step very carefully because he didn’t want to drop you or fall down with you on top of him. You took that time to suck on the soft flesh below his ear.

When you finally reached the bedroom, Buck laid you down on the bed gently and admired you for a while.

“You’re glowing, baby,” he admitted.

“Yes, I am,” you nodded, “because it’s time for you to put a baby in me,” you reminded him. “So, what are you waiting for?” You panted and reached out for him as he shook his head and chuckled softly.

“I should teach you some patience,” he took his shirt off and put it neatly on the chair by the vanity table. A Major indeed – he would never just throw it on the floor.

“Perhaps. But we know you won’t because you love to spoil me,” you giggled as Buck took his belt off and put it on top of his shirt. “God, you’re taking so long,” you whined. The idea of him putting a baby in you was exciting enough but seeing him undress was making it worse.

“Alright, come here, little mama,” he finally joined you in bed as he positioned himself above you, wearing nothing but his underwear. “So impatient for your husband to take care of you?” He teased and caressed your face to get your hair out of the way.

“Just want my man to put a baby in me,” you crossed your legs behind his back as your nightgown pulled up and revealed your panties.

“Oh, I’m gonna. I’m gonna make love to you all night long,” he promised and put his big, warm hand on your womb. It made you giggle as you already imagined yourself swollen with his baby. He’d be the best father in the world just like he was the best husband and you wanted nothing more than to give him a child. It would make your family complete.

Buck joined your lips together in a sweet and gentle yet passionate kiss as he allowed his fingertips to run freely all around your body, making you shiver as goosebumps appeared on your skin. You pressed your hands to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. You loved him so much that it was making you dizzy to have him so close and all yours – after all those long months of him being so far away from you… you had been starting to forget that your husband was a real person made out of flesh and with a heart pumping his blood, with beautiful blue eyes and golden hair, those pretty long eyelashes and an adorable smile that reminded you of a little boy. You hoped your child would have the same.

But now he was back, he was here. You hadn’t made him up, he wasn’t a make-believe lover. He was real and he was yours and yours only.

You arched your back to give him better access to your breasts as he sucked on them gently and hummed to himself as he was holding you by your ribs.

“They’re gonna swell soon, little mama,” he murmured while he kissed you all around one of your nipples and then he moved to another. “Gonna be full of sweet milk for my baby.”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you tangled one of your hands in his golden hair to pull on it gently and caress it.

Buck looked up at you with his beautiful eyes as one golden hair strand fell down on his forehead and you gasped at how pretty he looked. It made him blush a little but also smirk. His hands moved down and slid your panties off of you easily. He tossed them aside on the bed and opened your legs further as you revealed to him your glistening womanhood. You would always get so much wetter than usual during your fertile days. And so much more needy for your husband.

You reached your hands out to the outline of his hard cock, desperately wanting him inside of you already. You pulled his underwear down clumsily before he shushed you softly and pushed your hands away. He took it off on his own as it joined your panties on the side of the bed.

Gently, he grabbed you by your thighs and moved you closer to him as easily as if you were light as a feather. He was strong and you loved it – especially the way he was able to make you feel so small and vulnerable under him. Your nightgown pushed nearly all the way up while you were being pulled down to line your entrance up with his cock, revealing your abdomen to him. You moved the sheer fabric of the nightgown out of your face and watched him carefully pressing the tip of his cock to your swollen and wet clit.

A shiver went down your body at the feeling as you moaned. Your fingernails digged into his bicep as the other hand tugged on the sheets.

Buck would always take his time with preparing you for his fat cock. He never wanted to cause you any pain or discomfort. He would rub circles on your clit with his tip as your muscles relaxed and only then he would slowly start to push the length inside, inch by inch, watching carefully your every facial expression and every sigh, every moan, every eye-roll. He savoured them but he also stopped all his movement whenever he’d notice you were in any amount of pain.

Breathing heavily, he lowered himself down as he finally pushed all of his length inside and gave you a while to adjust to his size. Your thighs were surrounding his waist, pulling him even closer as if it was possible. His face loomed over yours and he put his hands on both sides of your head.

“Open your eyes, baby, keep looking at me when I make you a mama,” he whispered and you followed as your eyelids fluttered open. You gasped at the sight of his face so close, his beautiful eyes looking deep into yours as he began to thrust his hips, rutting as deep into you as he could, determined to put a baby inside of you.

You moaned and moved your hands to his muscular shoulders, digging your nails deep into his flesh at the overwhelming sensation of his fat cock stretching you out and making you feel full. You looked down for a brief moment and got dizzy at the sight of your belly bulge and his cock’s outline so deep inside of your pussy. With each thrust he was hitting a spot that was making your toes curl and tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

“Eyes up, baby,” he crooned and you looked at his face again. “Good girl,” he praised and your walls squeezed around his cock. “My good girl,” he added, knowing perfectly well how his words were making you feel. “I’m gonna fill you up with my baby, you’re gonna be all swollen and sweet for me, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered his promises but with time his words were getting less coherent and audible as they were turning into grunts of pleasure.

Buck pressed his forehead to yours as his golden hair strands stuck to his sweaty forehead and you felt his body tensing while his hips’ movement became chaotic. He was close and you cupped his face; his cheeks pink and his full, soft lips slightly parted. He was a sight.

“That’s right, baby, just like that,” you encouraged him, “give me that, all of that, baby,” you pleaded as his spasmodic thrusts were bringing you closer to your own peak, too. “Make me a mama and I’m gonna grow your baby, I’m gonna make you a daddy,” you promised.

Buck moved one of his hands down and put it on your womb, pressing on it gently as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you could no longer force yourself to keep them open at the overwhelming feeling and a knot in your lower abdomen finally relaxing as you reached your high with a loud moan of your husband’s name. He spilled himself deep inside of you with a groan into your ear but he didn’t move an inch once your highs were gone. Still inside of you, he grabbed your thighs and moved them up to press them to your chest before joining your lips together in a sloppy kiss.

After a while you felt him softening and that was when he finally slowly pulled out but he kept your bent legs pressed to your chest in a steady grip as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. He would usually keep you like this for at least five minutes for his seed to take.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he cooed to you. “Gonna be even more beautiful carrying my baby, you know that?”

“Why would I want it so bad if I didn’t?” You chuckled and he shook his head with a soft laughter. He let go of your thighs and you sat up to cling to him and pepper his blushing and sweaty face with soft kisses as your hands moved across his chest and arms to caress them. Buck put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to kiss you all over your cheeks as well. Both of your naked and exhausted, sweaty bodies were tangled with each other as you were sitting on your bed and sharing dozens of sweet little kisses.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whispered.

“For what, sugar?” Buck moved away slightly as he cupped your cheek with his hand and raised his eyebrow at you. “We don’t know yet if we’ve made our little baby,” he smiled softly.

“No, I know. But thank you for coming home to me,” you caressed his ruffled hair to move it away from his forehead. “Thank you for being such a good husband to me.”

“You make loving you so easy, sweetheart,” he assured you. “You were right. I love spoiling you because you deserve the world.”

“I don’t want it,” you shook your head as your eyes widened. “I only want you, Major Cleven. You are my whole world.”

Visibly moved by your words, Buck laid you down carefully as if you were made of glass. He lowered himself as well, pressing a kiss to your womb and laying his head on top of it while his arms hugged your waist.You played with his hair and smiled softly at your husband.

“I hope you hear me if you’re there, little one,” he whispered into your abdomen. “You are so loved already,” Buck assured. “And so lucky to spend the next nine months under your sweet mama’s heart,” he added.

“And to have a daddy like Major Cleven,” you played along as you caressed Buck’s cheek. “I chose you the best daddy you could ask for, little bean.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

Text

Taking you as their fake date to an event

[Fluff, suggustive, romance, humour, fake dating, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, Rolan]

Wyll

In the aftermath of clearing the misunderstanding with his father, Wyll found himself back at the centre of attention in Baldur's Gate's circle of nobles. Everyone wanted to meet the famed blade of frontiers, for the last time they saw him was years ago before he fully matured into the man he is today.

Letter after letter were delivered to your camp. Carrier pigeons barely escaped Tara's claws as they dropped the mail on Wyll's tent and left with most of their feathers intact.

Being the son of the grand duke of Baldur's Gate turned all the heads of any sane noble with a marriage allegeable offspring. Invitation for tea parties, hunting competitions, and even balls for the sole purpose of meeting other people. Wyll's hand was slowly going numb from having to write back formal polite declining letters.

If only there was a way to stop them from the source. He'd sigh and vent to his closest of companions. But Karlach wasn't available at the moment, so he had to make do with the vampire.

"Why not just tell them you've already tied the knot with someone or whatever you humans call it?"

For once, Wyll actually considered listening to the fanged devil on his shoulder.

He approached that topic as delicately as he could when it came to convincing you, inviting you to dinner at a restaurant, waiting until after you're both filled and the lighthearted conversation slowed to bring it up.

"My friend, if I may, there is something I could use a helping hand with."

To his relief, you don't seem uncomfortable to his proposal. If anything, you nonchalantly agreed to be his fake date to the upcoming celebration.

He thanks you with a polite smile, yet for some, his heart beat faster when he pictures you holding onto his arm amongst the crowd. Your formal attire matching his suit. The fact he'd get to call you his fiancé for an evening sends an unexpected heat up to his face.

Gale

Tara wakes him up with delight in her eyes one morning, her sing song tone of his last name is more chipper than usual.

"Mr.Dekarios, yoohoo~" she licks his face to get his sleepy eyes to focus on her, "Ms.Dekarios sends her regards, along with a mandatory summon invitation for you this weekend." Tara brings her paw up to her face, cleaning the fur and making herself even more presentable.

Before Gale gets a word in, he is interrupted by a paw smacking against his lips.

"Now now, you wouldn't break the heart of your poor old mother by rejecting her invitation when you haven't seen her in years, would you?" The soft beans against Gale's mouth hold the threat of sharp claws underneath.

Defeated and outsmarted first thing in the morning, the wizard reluctantly nods with a sight.

Deep down, he know this day would eventually come. He couldn't hide the orb and the looming threat over his life from his own mother forever, no matter how he naively hoped to find a cure before having to face her. Coming back to announce you've foolishly consumed untamed magic of chaos isn't the most popular mother's day gift.

But maybe, just maybe he doesn't have to let her know yet. If he could find a distraction.

And lucky for him, the perfect distraction was currently standing outside his open tent, rubbing Tara's belly as she purrs and leans into their arms more.

He devised a plan, a great list of excuses and reasons to sell you the idea of why you should go along with his plan of deception, even prepared a bribe if push came to shove.

Well, two bribes, actually. The first one was the massive breakfast prepared and catered specifically for your taste.

Scurrying to sit in the chair next to you before Halsin could, Gale ignored the cofused look the druid gave him before sitting down at another chair.

Either he was too easy to read, or you've picked up on his pattern of gifts and act of service whenever he has a request. Because he only had to hint at the upcoming home visit before you Blatantly stated that you're willing to go as his date.

"Well...this was certainly much easier than I expected. In fact I've deviced a much more elaborate argument and explanation for when you'd initially refuse."

"Why would I ever refuse Gale?"

You gently caressed the side of his face, wiping a small crumb of bread away from his lips before taking your hand back.

"I...well, uhm. You." With a flustered look, Gale wasn't sure how to respond. Did he remember to comb his morning hair? Oh god, wait, is he still in his pyjamas? Does he even look half presentable right now?

Shadowheart

A Selunite introduction party, as her parents explained. She never had the afterparty of her ceremony after the woods passage trial, and her mother really wanted her to see her adorned in the moon maiden silvery dress and white flowers.

How could she say no? Shadowheart only wished for both of their happiness, to make up for lost time as much as she could.

While her father never pressured her, knowing he still has plenty of time with her, her mother wasn't offered the same courtsy by life. So he encouraged Shadowheart to bring someone dear to her maybe, just to reassure her mother that she has a loved one, you know how humans tend to get about finding your soulmate and all of that.

But she felt lost. Was there really someone she could call a soulmate?

Your words echo in her mind, how you gently persuaded her into lowering her weapon. The night orchid you've given her is still kept safely in her journal, tucked away between the soft pages to preserve the petals forever.

What if you don't share her feelings? What if she is just another lost soul that has grown attached to you after you saved them. Afterall, you did end up risking blowing your cover when saving that drow women at moonrise tower.

Minthara's respect for you was nothing to scoff at. What's a cleric's faith when compared to a paladin's devotion?

Yet she still took a chance, a leap of faith for you.

One night before the two of you retreated to your own beds, she stopped you for a short conversation. Reluctance in her voice as she lowered her face and looked up at you, eyes glistening under the moonlight.

She explained her situation, her party for her coming of age ceremony that was long postponed, how she wished for you to accompany her as her date.

"Please, indulge me this once. And we can pretend it never happened afterwards...if that's what you wish." The words pained her to say, but the relief that followed at your acceptance made all the pain worth it.

She isn't sure where your heart lays, but for a day, it will be hers. Her faith will guide her, the faith that maybe one day, you too will return her feelings.

Karlach

She was nervously walking back and forth outside your tent just after dinner, unsure of how to approach you or even mention the topic.

Her tail aggiated and is switching between curling around her leg and lashing at the ground below. Karlach didn't bury her emotions as the engine in her chest glowed more and more, matching the redness of the sunset in the horizon.

Really, what was she thinking? Agreeing to the double date her friends offered her. She was too excited at having finally met more people from her past, ones that didn't stab her in the back, and one thing led to another.

It's not that she ment to lie to her friends...it was just hard to tell them that even after all these years, she still doesn't have someone to call her own. It felt embarrassing to admit how alone she was, how touch starved and repressed she felt.

Not to mention how every single one of her friends had already found someone. Most of them were married and the other half on their way to get married.

She didn't think they'd make a big deal out of it when she off-handedly mentioned that she was seeing someone, a simple white lie with no harm done. She thought they'd just be happy for her and move on.

But no, instead, it was as if she grew a second head right then and there. Everyone was so excited to meet her so-called partner.

And so she found herself like this, strolling around your tent like a loser, attempting to muster up the dignity to ask you to pretend to be her partner for tomorrow.

Only when bumped into something and lost her balance did she realise who stood in front of her.

Karlach's body pinned you to the ground with ease, even unintentionally her muscles could easily cage you on. Her skin hot against yours, she lifted her head and your faces were mere inches apart.

You didn't miss the way her eyes glances at your lips, the way her cheeks darkned when you licked them. The heacy of swallow afterwards before her lips twitched into a polite smile.

With a quick apology, she helped you up.

"Say soldier, have you ever played pretend before? You know that game that kids play." Very smooth Karlach, she thought to herself. "Uh...do you think the two of us can maybe play it tomorrow? Haha...ha."

You asked what she meant.

"I kinda of...well, I told my friends that I was already seeing someone so. Could you be that person? I'll pay you back tenfolds, I promise."

"Of course Karlach, anything you want." Accepting the awkward fistbump she offered you, in return you gave her a hug that lingered for more time than it should.

"Cool cool, great. I'll pick you up tomorrow?" Her tail was swishing excitedly behind her, a confident smile on her face as bright as the sun.

Rolan

He will show them, he thought, he will show his spoiled bratty siblings that he isn't as uptight and "scares away all suitors" as they claimed!

I mean, have you seen him? He is a very talented and capable wizard, how is it his fault that other people are far too dim and slow to realise how much of a catch he is, how his talent more than makes up for his sometimes bitter personality.

Lia was bragging again about the cute bard she managed to ask out, her third date this week. Rolan swears she is mentioning within earshot if him intentionally, hell even Cal gets the occasional longing stares at any tavren they go to.

Rolan isn't less than them and he will prove it. He just well...hasn't put himself out there yet, so what if he has zero experience with dating and romance? He is a fast learner, he is very confident in his ability to become an excellent lover in to time.

A day goes by, then two and three. Suddenly it's been a full week and he haven't had a speck of luck when it came to romancing someone. It's almost as if any person he approaches immediately loses interest the second he opens his mouth.

He is getting desperate, he can't let Lia know about this. She will never ever let him live it down.

So when you find him in the elfsong tavren, sitting alone on a table nursing on his drink with his tail curled around his leg. You stare at him long enough to catch his interest.

He recognises you immediately, you could see the cogs turning in his alcohol clouded mind.

"You, come here." He yells the order across the tavren, catching himself afterwards and clearing his thraot to lessen the embarrassment of the situation. Still his eyes begged you to approch him.

And you did, walking to his table and sitting down. After all your companions were still sleeping upstairs so what's the harm in indulging one drunk grumpy tiefling when you were supposed to be on a supply run.

Rolan orders you a drink too, his treats, he says without meeting your eyes.

And just as you take a sip, he lays it on you bluntly.

"From now on, I'm your boyfriend."

You choke on your drink, it takes him a moment to register the way he phrased his question.

Clearing his throat again, he refuses to meet your eyes as a blush colours his cheek. "No not like this, don't get the wrong idea."

Now you're sitting there, confused as the waiter brings you a towel to wipe down the drink you spilled on yourself. You thank them and take it, giving Rolan enough time to attempt to compose himself.

"I know i haven't made the best of impressions on you." He finally speaks up, "but I need you." His voice is more honest, a hint of vulnerability, "your help I mean. Lia and Cal, I want to prove them wrong."

His glossy eyes meet yours, the alcohol loosened his tongue.

"I'm not unlovable." He whipsers, "I'm not going to beg for a chance, I just need your cooperation for a day or two, just to shut them up."

Your hand goes above the table, wrapping around his own fist softly. "I understand, it's okay." You give it a light squeeze, "you don't have to explain yourself."

Somehow, your few words helped relieve his heart from its burden more than this whole night of drinking ever could.

#♡Wyll #♡Gale #♡Shart #♡Karlach #♡Rolan #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shart x reader #karlach x reader #rolan x reader #fluff #romance #fake dating #♡fluff #♡fake dating #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #Tara #shadowheart x reader

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gaysindistress · 4 months ago

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Can I request suggestive headcanons for Gale, Wyll, Astarion, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with shy female s/o who would go out of their way to help others whenever they can please?

Bg3 masterlist

Gale:

Gale is going to be so causal about his praise. Yes he’s going to smile at you and brush your hair back but he’s also going to lean down to whisper some filth into your ear. Things that are veiled as normal praise like “you’ve done such a good job today, my love” but he’s behind you with his hand wrapped around your neck while rolling his hips into your ass.

He’s going to make you wait. For hours. Hell find every reason possible to delay going to bed while also slowly getting you more and more worked up. Dinner has to be made but not before he’s thoroughly ravished your chest and left a trail of small bruises from collar to navel. Wyll needs his advice on something but it can wait until after some light over the clothes fondling.

Wyll:

Sweet Wyll would be the most vanilla about this in that he wouldn’t realize the effect he’s having on you. hes subtly drawing closer to you by your hip and whispering into your ear words of encouragement in that beautiful voice, causing his hot breath to wash over your neck. Within a matter of moments, your body is on fire and you’re becoming antsy. He’d take this as you being nervous so he’d try to reassure you by squeezing your hip and kissing your cheek.

If you were to tell him this he would be embarrassed but after it settles in that you’re worked up, he’s giving you that award winning smile of his and leading you back to your bed.

Astarion:

He’s gonna be clumsy as fuck about this.

When he sees you coming back from telling yet another person that you don’t know how to cure smelly armpits, he’s so giddy. He can’t contain his giggles and will absolutely burst out in laughter as soon as you stop in front of him. He’ll give you a half hearted apology and a kiss which is never just one kiss. Astarion needs all of the kisses from you because he knows that you don’t expect anything to follow….however there are times where he wants there to be more and this would be one of those times.

He’s tugging at you and pulling you towards a semi dark alley way as he paws at your clothes. There’s nothing perfect or planned about this other than your route home because you best believe he’s not finished with you yet.

Halsin:

Anytime Halsin sees you doing something kind for a stranger, he’s whispering into your ear that you need to return to camp with a strained voice. He’s posted up behind you like the bear of a bodyguard he is with his arms crossed over his chest and glaring at everyone. We all know he can be a gentle giant and wouldn’t hurt a fly but if you get between him and his lover? Best of luck to you.

He doesn’t have any concerns about having you in nature because it’s where he feels the safest but he’s respectful of you. If he hasn’t been completely consumed by his desire for you, he’s finding a hidden meadow and making a soft bed for your night together.

Dammon:

He’s going to be the sweetest. Since he’s so concerned about your wellbeing, he’s going to ensure that you’re fed, bathed, and rested before he starts anything. I feel like he’d be the type to help you bathe but it slowly turns into something more. He’d be washing your body when he starts to get a little handsy. He’s telling you to relax and chuckling against your neck as your breathing becomes quick. There’s definitely a mess of water but that can be dealt with in the morning.

If you try to return the favor, he’s dancing just out of your reach and will not let you touch him. This is about you and you alone.

Rolan:

*cough* lowkey hate sex *cough*

Listen to hatef—k by the bravery. That’s all I gotta say.

Zevlor:

Like i said, Zevlor is good with words, he was a commander after all but they do fail him from time to time. So when this happens, you will be spending the foreseeable future in your bed being devoured by him. Zevlor is by no means inexperienced. Out of practice maybe but he is older and has had his fair share of steamy encounters. He knows exactly how to relax you while also working you to the point of tears. He won’t be cruel like Gale and make you wait hours but all good things take time darling and you can’t rush perfection like this.

#gale dekarios #gale x reader #baldurs gate tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #halsin imagine #halsin #dammon imagine #dammon x reader #rolan imagine #rolan x reader #zevlor imagine #zevlor x reader #bg3 imagine #bg3 fanfiction

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atsadi-shenanigans · 3 months ago

Text

A Misuse of Potions 1- Hill Giant Strength

Wrote it, thought I should sit on it to better edit, then decided I ain't patient. Bon appetite.

Rated VERY E.

Astarion has a plan. A nice, simple plan. His love has been gone for almost a tenday, but now she's back, and he needs her to obliterate him in the best way possible.

Night has fallen. Apprentice spellworkers dart through the streets to light the lanterns as the pale wash of sunset fades into purple, and then black.

Astarion stands near the window overlooking the front street and the small, rather overgrown garden his love has been somewhat tending to.

She’s late.

She’s actually two days late, but he’s inclined to blame the wizard for that. No, she should have been here thirty minutes ago, right as the last curve of the sun sank behind the distant buildings and released the creatures of the night to their nefarious doings.

To which he would happily add his own misdeeds. Except that she’s late.

Something happened. They were waylaid by pirates. A kraken rose from the deep to smash Waterdeep and pulled that wizard tower down on top of them, and her body is so human and so, so mortal. He needs to go. Needs to check—

Magic stirs below. The scent of cinnamon and licorice he always associates with Gale’s spells. A glimmer of purple flickers in the space right before their front gate—she painted it teal and seemed quite pleased with herself—before a shimmering, purple cloud unfurls taller and taller and…

His breath sighs out of him. She emerges. Eleanor. His former leader, his friend, his love. She’s back. She’s home.

He lets the curtain fall back into place.

They’re plush things, and heavy. Purchased with him in mind and enchanted to boot. Usually, the moment it’s safe to do so, he throws them open to catch the fading light still painting the sky.

But not tonight. He doesn’t care about the sky, today. And he doesn’t want an audience.

Well, aside from one, anyway.

She unlatches the little gate and steps through. Her footsteps sound heavy. She must be tired. He hopes that won’t alter his plans. Because he did. Plan. He’s getting better at that. But now she’s late and it’s thrown him so he hurries down the stairs, soft as a sigh.

Not that he needs to. Her hearing is awful (she says it’s quite good for a human and he feels a twinge of pity at that). Plus their townhouse is enchanted against noise. Can’t have the neighbors (he has neighbors) complaining about the screaming (it’s not even bad screaming; usually involves a lot of “yes, yes oh god” even).

He hits the ground floor and surveys the room. It’s nothing grand. Nothing like the mansion he still gets dragged to in reverie sometimes. But it’s bright and tidy (they pay someone for that, because it turns out neither of them is particularly good at housekeeping). The wooden floor is well-swept and decorated with colorful rugs and potted plants (dearest Eleanor says her people were farmers). The walls are covered in patterned wallpaper and bookshelves and trinkets, tapestries and paintings she should have haggled better for, but didn’t because “good art is worth the artist.”

It's very her. And, he thinks, it might possibly him, as well? Part of him? They change things as they need to as he figures that whole mess out.

But he’s really here to check that everything is in place. No elaborate staging, though. He chose his own clothes for his own reasons, for his own purposes. He’s in their home. And it smells of them.

Or it did smell of them, And that’s the problem.

Oh, his scent is everywhere. He can’t escape that. But she’s been gone the better part of a tenday, and it’s her that’s beginning to fade.

The first, few nights were tolerable. He could nuzzle into her pillow and remember to breathe. The bedding smelled of her: rich blood, the linden soap she favors, and that wonderful, clean scent she carries on her skin. It was nearly enough for him to imagine he held her as he rested.

But the bedding wasn’t warm, like her. And though the late, summer sunlight warms the stone walls of their home and chases away the burgeoning chill of autumn, there was no living body within the walls to fill it with heat.

She wasn’t there. He was alone.

He’s been alone before, of course. Was practically alone for two centuries before he threatened her on that beach (he sighs fondly at the memory: her on her back, staring up at him with what he initially mistook for a simpleton’s vacancy, but later learned was a vicious cunning) (when she wasn’t tired) (and when what she calls her “brain chemicals” were correctly balanced).

Then they were together (he feels himself smile) for a little over a year, now. And in that time, they’ve never been apart as long as this expedition of hers.

And now their home is too cold. Too quiet. And nerves twist his stomach.

It’s almost hilarious. Centuries at seduction, and he’s now reduced to fussing over his clothing as he waits. Second guessing: where he’ll stand, how he’ll position himself. It used to be as effortless as, well, not breathing, but blinking, perhaps (even that’s a stretch). He barely thought about it. Wasn’t entirely present for more than half of it.

But now every moment drags. Her steps up their walkway. The way her lungs draw air. The beat of her heart and there’s no one to witness the slight stumble as his knees go stupidly weak.

He ought to sneer at the thought. A little over a year ago, he would have done far worse. Probably stabbed someone. But now, it’s Eleanor and he missed her, gods help him, and he smooths his hands along his front and takes up position at the door. Waits until…just…there.

Opens that door for her.

Her hand is raised to grab the knob. Now it hovers and slowly falls to her side as she boggles.

He chose well, it turns out. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he looks good. He’s retrieved his heels and laced them up. Unpacked another purchase he kept from her: a long, blood red dress of embroidered silk. It’s a slim fit, meant to hug his form. Would be tight along the legs if it wasn’t for the slit up one side.

The sleeves fall off his shoulders in a way he knows highlights them. She does love his shoulders (loves to clutch them as he works between her legs) (curl her head upon them as he reads to her) (dig her fingers in to try to ease the tense muscles when that blasted joke of an editor at the Baldur’s Mouth throws some feeble counterargument back at him).

But it’s the way her eyes follow along his collarbones to the dip that leads down his chest. It’s his chest that’s her favorite part of him (well, second) (alright, third because she says disgusting things like “your eyes” and “the way you smile” and “but if you didn’t have a mouth, I couldn’t hear you talk about plagues”).

(And she means all of those statements; she’ll just…sit there and listen to him prattle on—)

“Good evening, lover,” he purrs.

She almost drops all three bags she carries.

***

The rest on AO3 so no tumblr horny jail for me.

#a misuse of potions #these two shitheads #astarion smut #tavstarion smut #plus size tav #m/f but not heterosexual #obliterate that elf!

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bloodlust-1 · 10 months ago

Text

ꨄ Meeting Mother ꨄ

Gale x fem Tav — Fluff

Summary: It’s time to meet mother Morena! Gale is super nervous. Just like himself, Morena couldn’t possibly keep her comments and questions to herself! Give me all that fluff and embarrassing comments ;p

Notes: Let’s meet our Wizard boyfriends mama. She definitely doesn’t hold back what’s on her mind..I LOVE THISSSS and it’s been on my hc for so long now.

"This blasted piles of books!" Gale rushed around his tower, tidying up the mess of books and scrolls that littered the floor. "I can't believe my mother's coming today!" his voice was frantic and shaky. "I'm sure she heard lots about you, dear."

Tav giggled at his nervousness, maybe even her own nervousness as well. "Everything will be alright...you're definitely overthinking it again, Gale," Tav crossed her arms, popping out her hips with a playful smile. "Besides, I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you since magic."

Gale stopped in his tracks and turned to her, a smile spreading across his face. "You're a devil, my love."

Gale wrapped his arms around Tav's shoulders, tugging her into a small hug. "You really think so?" Gale's voice went soft again. All he wanted to do was make a good impression. Of himself that is, Tav was already perfect in his eyes.

"Of course, I do," Tav snaked her hands up his back and squeezed him. "Now come on, let's get you cleaned up before she gets here."

Gale nodded and followed Tav to the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and combed his hair, then they headed back to the living room. Tav sat down on the couch and Gale paced back and forth nervously.

"She's going to be here soon" he said. "I don't know what to do."

"Just relax, love," She stroked small circles on his back. "Your mother loves you."

Gale took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. He reached out for Tav’s hand and held it tightly. And there it was, those sad puppy eyes whenever he got upset.

"You doing it again." Tav cupped the side of his cheek.

His eyes trailed up to Tav's, "Hmm?"

"That sad puppy face - you're making those eyes again." Tav chuckled softly and traced her thumb against his cheekbone.

Gale looked down at her, his brown eyes meeting her own. He could feel the warmth of Tav's skin through his stubble, and Gale leaned in, brushing his lips against hers.

“Gale?” Tav’s voice was soft and breathy between their lips.

It was soft and warm at first, but then it became intense. Gale chased Tav’s lips when she tried to pull away, and he leaned over her, pushing her back against the couch. The kiss became rough and Tav hooked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer into the depth of the kiss.

Tav teasingly bit Gale’s lower lip and pulled it back with a playful glint in her eyes.

“You are always the sweetest taste on my tongue." He teased.

“Mmm, I love it when you talk to me like that,” Tav hummed with a smirk. “Say more - please."

Gale laughed and kissed her again. This time, the kiss was slow and sweet. They savored each other’s lips and tongues, and Tav felt her heart racing against his chest.

His hands found all the sweet spots of Tav's curves, squeezing the pudge of her hips. Between the kisses he whispered between each syllable, “I love you.”

Their tongues danced and caressed each other, and when Gale finally pulled away with a sharp breath, a lace of spit stringed from their lips.

KNOCK

Eye's widened with a gasp. Their bodies jumped out of their skin and they both peeled off each other.

Gale jumped up and hurried to the door. He opened it to see his mother, Morena, standing there. She was wearing a long, flowing dress and a warm smile on her face.

"Gale!" she clasped her hands, her eyes lighting up. "It's so good to see you, my son."

Gale stepped aside and let her in. She hugged him tightly, grabbing his face and squishing it between her hands as she giggled. "My, my, you're so handsome! Have you been taking care of yourself lately?"

Before Gale could utter a word as he squirmed under her hold, Morena had already turned towards Tav.

"And who is this lovely young woman?" she asked.

"Wait..." She studied Tav's face for only a moment longer, "You must be Tav. Oh, my dear, I've heard so much about you."

Gale quickly walked to Tav's side, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her against his hip, "Mother, This is the hero of Faerun," Gale's smile grew on his face, and a slight blush burned his cheeks, "And also...my lover."

Morena's eyebrows raised and her mouth softly gapped. She smiled in return while extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Tav," she said. "I've waited for my son to share his home with someone."

Tav took her hand and smiled back. "It's nice to meet you too, Morena," she said. "Gale has told me a lot about you."

They talked for a while longer, getting to know each other. Morena seemed to like Tav very much, and Gale was relieved. He knew that she would be happy for him.

"You should try some of the tea Tav brought back from Baldur's Gate, Mother. I'm going to grab some if you'll excuse me." Gale left the room and left Tav and his mother alone in private.

They both sat at a small table, and Morena seemingly stared Tav up and down. Her thoughts were unknown but the look in her eyes was so telling, "You are quite the beauty."

Tav felt a hotness in her neck that crept onto her face, "You're being too nice...This face has suffered many scars in these past months." Tav chuckled to herself and scratched her head shyly.

"That's no problem, I see beyond that, And seemingly so does my son." Morena leaned her chin onto the base of her fingers and tilted her head, admiring the tidiness of Gale's tower.

"So tell me, how's Waterdeep been treating you?"

Tav's eyes light up. This was her new home and well - she loved it. Especially with Gale, "Dare I say I like it better than Baldur's Gate?" Tav smirked and rolled her eyes playfully.

Gale came back into the room with a tray of three teacups, settling each cup down in front of the woman before joining them.

Morena's hummed in approval from the tea and they conversated for a while longer before she fell silent. From her POV, she'd never seen Gale so happy in his own home. It tugged at her heart strings and then the question left her lips,

"So, when are you two going to give me some grandchildren?"

Tav choked on her tea. She was completely caught off guard by the question. She had never really thought about having children before. Gale hastily patted Tav's back with a shocked expression as she caught her breath.

"I, um, I don't know," Tav stammered. "We've never really talked about it."

Morena smiled. "Well, you have plenty of time," she said. "But I'm just so excited to be a grandmother someday."

Tav wryly smiled back, but she still felt a little flustered. She didn't know how to respond to Morena's question.

"Mom," Gale firmly interjected, "Tav and I want to enjoy each other's company before we start thinking about kids."

Morena nodded with a crinkles on her eyes. "Of course, dear," she said. "I just wanted to know what your plans were."

Gale turned to Tav and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," he whispered. "We'll talk about it when the time is right."

Tav smiled back at him. She was so grateful he came to her rescue. He knew exactly what she was feeling, and he was able to put her at ease.

"I've heard stories that you are a fearsome fighter." Morena quickly changed the subject and Tav sighed in relief.

"Ahh...Yes, I've held a blade for as long as I could remember." Tav's heart whelmed, reminiscing of her childhood.

Morena let out a laugh that had both of them confused, "Might I say! My Gale has a taste for strong woman in armor-“

“Mother!”

Oh, no, that didn't stop her, “He used to watch the woman march down the streets in their armor, face all flushed. How things never change.”

Tav's eye trailed to Gale, a smirk plastered on her face, "Oh, really?"

Gale dragged his finger tips down his face in a stressful sigh, "Please spare me the embarrassment, thank you."

Morena shook her head gently as they both giggled at his reddened face. Wow, who knew Gale had a type.

The rest of the day seemed to pass nicely in the hours Morena visted them. She grew to love Tav, not only for her heart but for making her son so happy. Especially after the whole situation with Mystra, which was absolutely a sensitive topic for Morena. It was best to leave it in the past.

After a while, Morena stood up and hugged Tav and Gale, "I should probably get going. It's been lovely spending time with you two."

Gale and Tav walked her to the door. Morena turned to her son and gave him a hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Gale," she said. "I'm glad you've found someone who makes you happy." She wrapped her hands again around her son.

Gale smiled and hugged her back. "I'm glad too,"

Morena turned to Tav and smiled. "And you, Tav," she said. "You're a wonderful girl. I'm so glad Gale has you in his life."

Tav blushed and smiled back. "Thank you, Morena," she said. "I'm glad to be in his life too."

Morena winked at Tav, "You're skin is glowing by the way."

Tav tilted her head, "What?"

"Nothing, lovely. Something is telling me I'll be seeing you again very soon."

Morena gave them one last hug and then walked out the door. Gale and Tav watched her go, then turned to each other and smiled.

"She's really nice," Tav said.

"I know," Gale pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm so glad she approves of you."

Tav leaned in and met his lips with a chuckle. "I love you,"

Gale smiled and kissed her back. "I love you too.”

They stood there for a moment, holding each other close.

"What was your mom talking about, Gale?" Tav crinkled her eyebrows totally lost.

He shrugged with a wry smile, "I'm not sure, my love. She's just admiring you."

"Hmm..."

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #gale x oc #gale fic #gale fanfic #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale #gale romance #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 fluff #bg3 headcanons

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feyascorner · 11 months ago

Text

1 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Sometimes, you wonder if letting him ascend would mean he would still be here, by your side, rather than lurking the shadows of Baldur's Gate.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. very excited about this!!!! I have a lot of ideas on what to do w this plot!!! ALSO there is some material (pressuring??) in this specific chapter that may be a bit uncomfortable for some readers it's very brief, but it is there so please take care of yourself!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

His hands–the slender pale fingers you’ve grown to love more than your own–wrap desperately around your throat, digging crescent-shaped indents into your skin. You’d always thought that if he were ever to realize you weren’t as precious to him as he believed you to be, your neck would be the one part of yourself he’d continued to cherish. The softness in which he brushed his fangs against the most vulnerable areas of your throat had led you to believe so.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

His crimson eyes gleam with an emotion you’ve seen plenty on his pretty face, but never toward a friend. Never to you. You’re going to die, you think. And it wouldn’t have seemed so bad to die at his hands if it were not for the hatred reaching his eyes.

You’re not sure who–maybe Karlach or Wyll–but someone tears him away from you. Your chest dares to tighten from the loss of contact, yet you desperately grasp at the air, hands flying to the tender flesh of your neck while Shadowheart rushes to your side in an instant with her eyes narrowed dangerously at the very man who’d made the dark blemishes.

They’re yelling. Everyone is. At you, out of panic, or at Astarion, you’re not sure, but you just stare at the vampire spawn who’s now unwillingly locked into a life cast into the shadows of the city. He doesn’t look at anyone else, either.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

A pair of hands shake you awake, and you quickly remember the poor consequences to your back of falling asleep on the empty, narrow street beside the Elfsong tavern. You look up wearily, eyes in a daze as Shadowheart sighs irritably, brows furrowed in a way that tells you to ready yourself for a scolding. “Honestly, at this point, I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten robbed during the night yet.”

You force yourself onto your feet, leaning against the walls as you rub at the crust forming under your eyes. “I have nothing of value anyway. They’re better off stealing from some other poor bard who actually bothers to write songs.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check on everyone there.”

“Very well,” she says. She purses her lips after a slight pause. “You should stop falling asleep on the street. Especially since there’s been quite a few murders recently around the city,” she checks to see if you haven’t dazed off, “I expect you to come home tonight–We’re making stew.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

Your throat goes dry, and you can feel your knees grasping at its remaining strength as you search your mind for a way to respond. You’re tempted to lie through your gritted teeth, knowing she’s fully aware regardless of what pathetic answer you offer her, but you opt to seal your mouth shut, shrugging.

The flash of disappointment in her eyes is enough to make you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. With a curt note, she turns to walk away, glancing back for one last time. “Don’t give him the privilege of occupying a part of your mind for so long. He doesn’t deserve even the dirty filth you have all over yourself.”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Though after the pitiful look your companions gave you when you arrived back at camp and the aching truth in Shadowheart’s words, you find yourself feeling bolder than the last time you dared to call Lae’zel’s cooking inedible (which it was, quite frankly).

He’s handsome. A reasonably tall elf with pale blue eyes glinting with attraction as he stares at you across the tavern. Sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and long hair brushed back and away from his face. You only notice everything else after the silvery shade of his hair–not entirely white, but fairly close, or as close as you could get to it while still being blond. You were sure he was approaching you for your title–the famed hero of Baldur’s Gate–rather than for pure physical attraction, but you weren’t in any position to nitpick at the moment.

You just wanted to feel skin other than the unsettling feeling of your own.

“Seems to have taken a liking to you,” Shadowheart sips at her drink.

Lae’zel glances at you. “He’s tolerable to the eye. Not quite attractive by githyanki standards, but tolerable.”

You stifle a smile at their attempts to urge you forward and put down your drink. “You sure you two won’t be lonely without me?...Or kill each other.”

“You can leave them to me,” Gale smiles, pacing toward your table with his drink. “I’m sure a Hold cast or two would settle them down.”

Lae’zel snatches the cup from his hand. “You act as if you aren’t fresh out of cast slots, wizard.”

Shadowheart shakes her head, nudging you forward. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be long. Certainly won’t be overnight,” you assure her. “I can’t miss the stew, anyway.”

She smiles, and Lae’zel scoffs in the other direction. “Hurry, he looks almost demented waiting for your graces.”

You snort and offer a clumsy glance to the elf across the tavern before striding out the door.

Behind the tavern, he’s quick to press a desperate kiss to your lips, lacking the usual tenderness you experienced with Astarion. Or had it been tender at all? Even now, you’re unsure what parts of him had been to manipulate you and what parts of him had been his raw feelings. At the time, you’d embraced either with open arms–you’d embraced him.

The elf bites at your lip, which snaps you back into the waking world. And while you curse yourself for comparing the moment to him, you find that it’s impossible as you observe that this elf is slightly shorter than he’d been. And instead of his hands wandering to your hip or waist, they graze your behind, pushing you into him in a way that feels nearly suffocating.

And most glaringly, his lips are warm. Not the cold, yet soft lips of an undead being.

You’re grateful that he keeps his eyes closed because you can simply stare at his pale hair, longing for something you vowed to forget.

It doesn’t feel right. Not at all, and you hate yourself for it.

You shove him away, face falling as you realize you want to wipe his touch away from your mouth like it’s filth, and you do. Understandably, he appears puzzled, brows furrowing as you push yourself away from the wall, shaking your head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”

But as you try to walk away, his fingers close around your wrist like a death grip, sending shivers up your spine as you find that you hate the feeling of his skin. You hate the feel of your own skin, too. Why, you’re not sure, but he leans close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheeks and yank you out of your daze. “What’s gotten into you? I didn’t do jack shit.”

“I just can’t do this,” you hiss, tugging at your hand. You could just knock him out, but the hero of Baldur’s Gate punching people as they pleased wouldn’t look too good on your end. “Let go.”

“Well, you have to give me at least an explanation,” he snaps, grip tightening. It hurts. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been sending me looks all night.”

His words seem to snap the remaining patience inside you because you elbow his stomach, shoving him backward onto his ass before pressing your dagger that seemed to appear from thin air into his neck. You haven’t had to use the knife in a while, considering how your biggest recent foe was the stinginess of patrons when it came time to pay their tabs at the tavern. Though it belongs to you, it feels foreign in your hands because, for a time, it had a different owner.

One who used this very blade against you. The same one who taught you how to elbow someone hard enough to make them reel.

“P-Please, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You’d forgotten he was there. “Just let me go, please; I won’t bother you again.”

You drop your head, sighing loudly as you sheathe your dagger once more. You think you must really be losing your mind—threatening to slice open a civilian’s throat despite the significant power imbalance between the two of you. You’re sure the greatest threat he’s faced in his life is from petty theft or something along those lines while you—well, you’re you. It’d be equivalent to a full grown owlbear attacking a goblin with a half broken club.

So, as much as you want to make him bleed just a bit, you opt to step away. “Do that again to anyone—not just me, and I won’t be so forgiving next time. Understand?”

The tremble in his irises tells you enough. You sigh again, turning to leave.

You curse your luck. Of course you would have to attract the foulest person in the tavern on a night where nothing seemed to be going correctly. Or rather, the past four months that haven’t been going as you anticipated.

Getting rid of the tadpole meant you should’ve been free from the chains of someone else—and it had, but at the cost of losing something else. And that ‘something else’ was one you weren’t sure you were ever ready to sacrifice. It should have made you happy to see the Elder Brain fall, and to rid of the squirming feeling in your skull, but all you could remember was the churning in your stomach as you realized the last string tying you to him had been snapped.

You’d gone to every tavern, every bar, playing a tune at each one until the skin at your fingers split open, because he knew you’d be there. He’d known what your lyre meant to you. Yet among the sea of faces, not once had you seen the one you wanted.

As you walk around the corner, you wrap your arms around yourself. Though Summer’s quickly approaching, there’s still a chill in the air this late at night. You pull out your dagger once more, lifting it to the sky to examine its hilt against the moonlight, which glistens with what was once your pride and love. Now, it just looks dull, and faint.

You back feels too light, now lacking the lyre. You suppose you’ll have less of a hassle moving around now, since you don’t have to worry about the strings snapping, but it doesn’t soothe you. Still, you’d sold it for good reason.

An instrument is nothing without a player who can use it, after all.

So you turn your attention back to your dagger, the last crumb he’s left for you to hold dearly to your heart, and then to the trash can perched beside a nearby wall.

You’ve tried a million times before, and you’re not sure what makes you think you’ll be successive this time, but you swallow hard in determination to rid of the thing entirely. But just as you’re about to take your first step toward it, you hear a loud, halting screech muffled instantly.

It’s from the direction you came from.

You’re breaking into a silent sprint, the weapon in your hand ready to be used. You stop before you turn the corner, readying yourself for the worst. A murder? There’ve been more than a few occurring around the city, but you’d thought the Flaming Fist were investigating that already…You can hear your blood rushing in your head, but a crunch of bone and the silence that follows afterward is all you can focus on as your grip on the hilt tightens desperately.

Cautiously, you peer at the moonlit alleyway, poised to attack.

You nearly drop the blade.

Draped in the moonlight with his face hidden by a hood, he nearly glows, though you’re not sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. His fangs are buried viciously into the man’s neck, whose legs and arms lie limply at his side while the life in his eyes slips away as if it were never there. And while you don’t dare to breathe, you stare with wide eyes, drinking in his appearance as if it would be the last. A part of you thinks it may be.

But as quickly as your heart begins to race, it calms. A drop of your stomach tells you it’s not him. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or how you know, but you can just tell.

The man finally drops the now lifeless body onto the ground with a thud, wiping at his mouth with the back of his dark sleeve. He turns, and you finally see one of Astarion’s brothers–the one who’d been at the flophouse, confirming your suspicions. Regardless, your guard stays up. “I thought you guys left for the Underdark.”

He snaps his head toward your voice, eyes wide. He looks a lot better than you’d last truly seen his face after Astarion nearly burned him against the sunlight in the flophouse. What had been his name, you try to recall? Pallet? Peter? It doesn’t matter, much. “You were at the flophouse.”

He cringes at the memory but nods. “Petras. You’re the one who stopped Astarion from killing us all, aren’t you?”

Your throat goes dry at that. You’d never thought about it in such a–vulgar way, and it makes your stomach churn, but he doesn’t give you time to respond.

“Dalyria, Leon, and I have decided to stay for the sake of the spawn hiding in the city sewers,” he explains curtly. “My other siblings are in the Underdark with most of the spawn, as you expect them to be.”

You stare at the corpse on the ground, expression twitching as you meet his eyes. “Why’d you kill him?”

He licks his lips, stained with the man’s blood. “I didn’t. Someone did the work for me. I just didn’t let his precious blood go to waste.” He pauses. “I’d put a few rats on betting that it’s Astarion.”

Your eyes go wide, your armed hands dropping to your side. “Astarion? He was here?”

You’d been here mere moments ago. Had he seen you? Was he watching you?

“Maybe. Judging from how quickly he ran away from the scene when he saw me, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Shoving your dagger into its rightful place on your back, you immediately turn to search for your former companion. He couldn’t have gone far. You’d been talking to the dead man mere minutes ago, and if the death occurred between now and then, he couldn’t have possibly gone more than a few buildings away–

“I never got to thank you.”

Petras looks at you anxiously, and as much as you’d like to cut the conversation short, the way he shifts nervously can’t help but keep you in place.

“There’s no need,” you reply, stopping to shake your head. You hadn’t done it for him or any of his siblings, for that matter, anyway. Not even for Astarion. Your choice to stop had been for yourself, to keep him by your side. Your brows furrow at the selfishness draping your thoughts—that you were willing to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls for the sake of protecting the one you loved. It was a lapse of judgement. Naivety. “It’s just how things turned out.”

He tilts his head but doesn’t push it any further. “Have you seen him recently? Astarion?”

“...No. He left after we—I killed Cazador.”

His eyes flicker with disappointment, and you wonder if he’s forgiven Astarion for what he tried to do in Cazador’s dungeon. “He’s always been good at hiding. Seems some things never change.”

You nod numbly. “I’ll let you know if I do see him.”

Though you doubt you ever will. Not after how things ended. But if there’s a slight chance, even the smallest of hopes, that you can bring closure to the sleepless nights you spend on the streets, staring up at a sky that no longer brightens the way it used to, you’re willing to wait until you’re shriveled up and old, while he remains beautiful.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

The painful clench in your heart doesn’t go ignored. “Have you spoken with him?”

“Once,” he says. “But it seems he doesn’t want to speak with us anymore either. You see, our conversation didn’t quite end in a happy family reunion. We did manage to ask him a few things—like asking if he was to be staying with you.”

“And?” You’re afraid to hear the answer, but your voice is far too hopeful.

Petras gives you a look of pity, and you understand.

You understand that no matter how long you wait or how long you search for him, Astarion will not be seen when he does not want to be.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

For the rest of the night, you weep. You weep in the comforts of nobody but your own arms and nobody to hear you but the moon above.

Baldur’s Gate is by no means a city that sleeps. The past four months have been a restless cycle of rebuilding the city, and while you’ve done your part, no matter how much you do, it never seems enough.

“Oh, welcome, dear. Your friends have been a wonderful help for my house as of late,” the lady of the Highberry’s Home, Cora Highberry, ushers you into her house, still missing a roof and half the windows but appearing in better shape than most other structures in the city. She offers you a wine glass. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything’s fine,” you smile, but just as you reach for the glass, it’s snatched away by a familiar wizard’s hand.

Gale extends Cora a gentle nod and that charming grin of his as he hands her back the wine. “While we greatly appreciate your hospitality, I’m afraid my friend here is in no condition to drink as of now.”

The playful roll of your eyes makes Cora laugh. “Ah, of course. But do know I’m so grateful for all your help. I didn’t imagine we would be building the home back for the orphans so quickly!”

“It’s the least we could do,” Gale beams. “Now then, my dear friend and I will continue working on the second floor, so just give us a holler if you need us.”

He whisks you away toward the stairs before you can wave goodbye to the woman. While you’d expect him to initiate conversation, he doesn’t say anything until you arrive upstairs, where you’re mostly alone beside the few other volunteers in the other room. You tilt your head when he finally paces past you toward one of the broken windows. “Gale Dekarios keeping his mouth shut for more than a few moments? The city truly must be falling apart.”

He cracks a smile at this, dusting off a few glass shards from the windowsill. “I’m glad to see you still have your sense of charm.”

“When have I ever lacked my charm?”

He doesn’t lift his head, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through a few pages while you survey the state of the room. “You didn’t return last night.”

You tense.

“It would be wise to be grateful Karlach’s still in Avernus with Wyll, because I’m certain she would’ve given you quite the scolding for daring to miss my world-famous Wizard’s Stew,” he says lightly, his tone morphing into something more serious when he shifts his gaze in your direction. “We’re worried about you, you know. Especially Shadowheart, even if that woman doesn’t know what gentle means in every possible level of hell.”

He’s silently asking you for an explanation, and your heart breaks at how gently he prods at your walls, giving you an opportunity to slip away again. But with how his eyes plead at you, you can’t imagine that would be possible anyway. Slowly, you perch yourself on the windowsill, looking down at the bustling crowd working together to rebuild the Highberry’s porch. They’re laughing—some face red with wine, while others scold them for it. You see a bard playing a tune you haven’t heard before, but it’s effective in lifting the mood regardless, and you finally glance at Gale.

“I met one of Astarion’s brothers yesterday.”

His face is grim. “I didn’t realize they were still in the city.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. “Some of them stayed. From what I could tell, they're mostly in the sewers, but they’re definitely here.”

“Did he seem…hostile?”

“No. He just asked me about Astarion.” You leave out the part about the dead body.

Gale’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything, only silently urging you to continue. And you do.

“He doesn’t want to see me. Not ever, I think.”

There it is. The same gaze everyone seems to give you lately: pity.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you hop off the windowsill, pacing across to the other side of the room. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I won’t. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t. I’m tired of waiting for him, Gale. I’m tired of waiting for someone who won’t ever come.”

And despite the puffiness of your eyes last night, and despite the way your eyes gloss over even now, you offer him a crooked smile. “I want to focus on the city now, for better or worse.”

Gale appears the happiest he’s been since returning a few months ago with the news that Mystra has healed him of his orb. “You thought well, dear friend. You should know how glad we are to have you back. We could certainly use more hands in the kitchen, as well, considering—well, you know how the rest of our companions are with cooking.”

Just as you open your mouth, there’s an ear-shattering scream from downstairs. The two of you meet wide eyes briefly before hurrying downstairs.

Only a few feet from the patio of the Highberry home, there’s a crowd gathering with hushed whispers and the weeping of a woman. And when you manage to push through the mountain of people, you finally see the corpse.

Cora Highberry sobs over what remains of her bloody husband, who, without a doubt, has the markings of two fangs punctured through his throat.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #bg3 x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers

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