thechaoslibrarian

[thechaoslibrarian]

Synopsis: [Astarion x Reader/Tav] Wilful, witty, vulnerable and endearing, Astarion blossoms slowly under the ever-present sunshine of your love.

CW: Explicit sexual content, mentions of past trauma.

Banner art: by Steven Nederveen

Dividers: @aquazero

" ... time and again

No fire where I lit my spark

I am not afraid of the dark

Where your words devour my heart ... "

~ lyrics from Distant Sun (by Crowded House)

His scent infiltrates your dreams, the dry floral notes and the rusty tang of old blood, the unique underlying essence that never fails to bring his face to the forefront of your mind.

When he falls asleep, back pressed to yours, it is merely a prelude to how you wake the following morning, with his head tucked into the crook of your neck, or pillowed between your breasts, the soft white curls grazing your cheek as you keep your breathing light and even, so as not to interrupt his slumber. You know the gentle scent of his scalp better than anyone has a right to.

There is something that goes far beyond the pleasures of the flesh when you are together like this; two easily doused candle-flames that reach for each other, flickering, across the distance of bleak memory, pain and loss.

Such a tenuous connection, so easily fractured. Yet, even through all the trials you've faced thus far, losing him had somehow transformed into an idea you simply would not countenance.

The land might burn, your enemies might dance on the ashes of the people you had failed, but Astarion's fingers winding uncertainly through yours would be the only sensation you wanted to experience at the end of the world.

You thought about it now, as rain pattered on the roof of your tent, the inside dry and warm from the heat of the enchanted lamp. He had joined you a short while earlier, wordlessly, as was his habit. To give voice to the immensity of what he had to overcome, every single time he entered your tent of his own free will, would be more than he was capable of fully processing at this time.

He lay beside you now, with his chin propped against the top of your head.

He was awake.

"Astarion?"

"Darling."

"What kind of weather do you like best?"

He was silent for a while. You lay still, relaxed. When you were together like this, pauses in conversation could sometimes stretch out for ages, because time ceased to place its shackles on either of you. Even the most mundane topic was up for discussion. Words filled space with comfort. Stolen time was sacred time.

"Hmm. Weather like this, I suppose. It makes being inside feel ... somewhat better."

"You certainly weren't born for the outdoors."

He raised his fingernails for you to inspect.

"Absolutely not! Look at these beauties. Imagine if they became stained with grass, or earth, or worse still ... chipped."

"That would be grievous indeed," you concurred with hushed solemnity.

A low rumble of amusement made its way up through his throat.

"What about you, my dove? If I could guess - "

"Cooler weather. Maybe breezy."

His touch skims, feather-light, up your arm. In times past, such an action would have been a clear provocation, an invitation to something more intimate. You acknowledge it in your mind, absorb it, like a plant takes in sunlight. Astarion is your sun, small and fitful, burning you down to the bone when you least expect it, fighting for his place in your universe.

You reach out, fingertips brushing his. He pauses, allowing your hands to connect, palm to palm. His fingers are longer than yours, strong, clever. You've seen him take apart complex locking mechanisms with such ease, the same ease with which he'd unraveled your body the first time you'd been together.

"Where did you learn to pick locks?"

He lowered his hand and lay back, staring at the roof of the tent. You splayed out at his side, two children watching the imagined turn of the heavens.

"I ... think I learned it from a criminal. One I represented in a case, long ago. He was talkative. Couldn't shut him up, really. Told me how he had cracked a simple safe. I followed his instructions on a similar safe, as a demonstration."

"And you succeeded?"

You could almost sense the curve of his mouth.

"On the first try. He was so proud. Ha. Called me a natural."

You turned your head, smiling slightly. He looked self-satisfied, in that manner of a cat that gets into the choice cream.

Gods, he was lovely to look at, here in your tent, with you. Your gaze traces the impossibly artful tangle of pale curls, the elegant bridge of his nose, the sharp corners of his scarlet eyes and the movement of his perfectly curved lips.

He cocked an eyebrow, expression growing predatory, knowing.

"Darling, you're staring."

You laughed.

"Do you blame me?"

"Honestly? No."

He propped himself on an elbow, playfully prodding at your face until you're forced to swat at him. He sobered suddenly, hands falling away. You suspect you know what he's about to ask. It's never far away from his thoughts, after all.

"Is this enough for you? Just talking? Just falling asleep together?"

You also know by now that words aren't adequate to allay his fears. Turning over on your side, you face him, fingers tracing softly over the profile you'd admired a few moments ago. You smooth out the worry lines on his forehead, the skin cool and smooth as marble beneath your touch.

"This is more then enough. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because these are the things I've always wanted."

Your index finger trails down to the tip of his nose, where you decide a kiss needs to be placed. He leans forward, unknowingly.

"You wanted ... this? How we are now?"

"Yes. A lover is nice and all, Astarion, but I've always wanted a partner. Someone to laugh with. Someone to grouse to. Someone to sit with their back to mine in the cold and share my bread with me. Someone to whisper to when the darkness grows closer."

He is silent for a bit, hesitating. You pass your thumbs across the high cheekbones, watching as he falls slowly into the comforting familiarity of the contact. When he speaks, something bitter catches in his throat.

"But I'm not ... capable of some of those things, you know. I can't keep you warm with my body. I can't laugh like others do. I can't eat with you, nor can I claim that darkness hasn't found a permanent home inside me."

You stroke across the corners of his mouth, avoiding his lips and then track upwards once again, along the delicate point of his ears, into the feathery silk of his hair.

"That's all right."

"It is?"

"It is, because I say so. Astarion, very few people actually end up inhabiting the castles they build in the air. Sometimes, they find a real home. A home that's so much better. A place they belong."

His voice has now sunk to a whisper.

"Am I ... that to you?"

"Yes."

He is silent, and you don't press him. Sometimes, it is better to inform him of the way you feel and to give him time to mull it over. He shifts, restless, before planting a sudden, rather solid kiss on your lips.

There is no artifice behind it, no coy seduction. It is surprisingly factual, a statement of feeling, of earnest intent.

"I'll have you know," he states seriously, "that I won't have you comparing me to some homely log cabin. Oh no. I'm nothing short of a stately, luxurious home, built on the side of a sharp precipice, overlooking the most glorious snd treacherous sea."

"That's a rather precarious position to be in, don't you think?"

He sits up on his haunches, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes now animated and captivating.

"But that's half the fun! Will a terrible tempest come along and sweep us away? Will a sea monster rise up from the depths and capture us in its jaws?"

His feral grin is now infectious. You straighten and face him.

"You're only thinking in terms of disasters! That's poor planning. What about the subtle magics of the air that work directly against rock over time? Erosion is as dangerous as any sea monster, you know. Just a tad less showy."

"And what, darling, do you suggest we do about this mortal peril we find ourselves in?"

"We do exactly as we've done so far. We hammer the walls furiously into place, then drink wine and dance and stamp our feet to see how the repairs hold up."

He throws back his head and lets out a laugh, warm, heady, the kind that roughens around the edges and brims with the wicked delight that you know has kept him alive, for all of this time. Unable to help yourself, you place a gentle kiss to the curve of his throat, moving away again, until he grasps your chin firmly and tugs you back.

His mouth is a stark contrast to the way his fingers sink almost desperately into your cheeks, a gentle mapping out of teeth, tongue, sealed with the exquisite drag of his fangs across your lip.

Forehead pressed to yours, he breathes out the words, as if they've been chained in the heavy confines of his chest.

"I want to ... I want ... you. I want ... this."

He has said the words before, under different circumstances. You know what he is referring to. Gently, you push him back. The dim light turns the red of his gaze to the flesh of a pomegranate, tempting, yielding, so easily crushed between your fingers.

"Astarion ... you don't have to - "

"I know. I know you'll wait for me for God knows how long, and I don't know why, because I - "

He bites his lip, but changes tack.

"The reasons ... are important. I know that better than anyone. But I don't want to think. I want to feel. I want to be able to just do this without - "

Worldssly, you draw him towards you, cradling his head against your chest, a return to the familiar. It's the only message that's ever mattered, at least, to you. That he always has a place, whether in your open arms, or across the breadth of the world, or in another realm altogether.

He'll occupy a space that can be filled by no other, with his easy charm, his bruised smile, the bitter twist of his spirit and every sharp edge that slices you open and infiltrates the furthest corners of your heart, nesting there as if the scars that form around them are the most cherished haven.

"What do you want, Astarion?"

"To feel you."

He speaks into the hush of your tent, his breathing laboured. If you had been anyone else, you might have mistaken it for sheer arousal, nothing more. You know better.

He is nervous. He is letting you see it.

You place your hands on his shoulders and he lowers himself, propped on his palms on either side of you. You consider him, warmth and sorrow blooming simultaneously in your chest.

"You'll tell me? If anything I do makes you feel ... "

"Yes, my love. I'll ... yes. Right away."

"Stay still. Keep your eyes on me," is the soft command you give him.

You undo the laces on his shirt, sliding it from him. His skin gleams with otherworldly pallor, and the knowledge of what had been carved into his back filters into your mind. You cannot make him forget, but you can remind him that touch can be tender too.

Such is the way you handle him, as the shirt is pulled away from his torso fully, the ridged planes of his lean abdomen fluttering slightly under your fingers. He is hyper-sensitive to the sensations you bring, a temporary spike in his breathing.

This is nothing like your previous encounter, when he had confidently displayed himself, instructing you on how to please him. You watch the lift of dense, dark lashes, the hesitancy in his glance, the way he raises his head and arches his neck to gift you the same vulnerability always granted to him when you let him feed.

You keep your palms flat against him, grounding him, as you run them over throat, delicately trace collarbones, stroke down over the curve of his pectorals, down, down, until you stop right above the buckle of his belt before repeating the process.

His breathing evens. He leans down to capture your lips, a little more steady and with more of his old flair. He nips lightly down on your chin, playful.

You don't want him to inhabit the persona he'd worn for so long as some kind of defense, and this definitely feels different. As fraught with nerves as he was, he is regaining some of the self he only showed when you were safely ensconced away from the world.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and he lets out an involuntary groan, low and wanton, a sound that spikes jagged heat all the way down the front of your body.

Before you have time to register his actions, Astarion lowers himself, pressing you into the bedroll. There is no art to the way he rolls his hips against yours, no finesse to the way he clumsily mouths your neck, eager, warm.

"Astar - ahhh - slow down, you - "

"Can't, my sweet - oh yes - I feel - want you so much. I - "

He tugs down your trousers, dragging your underwear away with it. As much as this seems far more organic that anything he's done before, the heated throb of arousal doesn't distract you from the fact that he is rushing things, perhaps in a frantic bid to prove that he can do this.

You clamp your thighs together, temporarily denying him access and he sits back on his haunches, panting. The raw hunger with which he regards you makes you as slick as melting ice. You have both gone so long without sex, something you were more than happy to accept. You know all too well, however, the cost of succumbing to pure lust when there was something far more significant at play.

"I know what you want - "

"Then let me have it. I'm no fragile bloom, my sweet - "

"Astarion."

You stifle a smile as he huffs and folds his arms.  

"Fine. I'm listening. But don't delay. I need you."

The ache in his voice almost has your legs falling apart again, but you hold firm.

"Can you take everything off?"

In reply, he stands and unbuckles his belt, but then pauses and shoots you a mischievous look.

You know that look. Your mouth twitches.

"What are you up to?"

"Giving you a show, that's all."

"Oh Gods, is now really the time for - "

"Well, since you're being so stiff, let Hortensius help you along."

"Please, not Hortensius."

"But darling, he's already here. Now, be nice."

He sucks in his cheeks, in the manner of one of the high end fashion models of the Upper City and wags his hips from side to side, lips projecting in an exaggerated pout as the pants slide from his hips. Your smile turns to a helpless quiver of suppressed merriment as he kicks the offending article away and then grasps his rigid member, advancing on you without ever losing the expression.

"My name is Hortensius Dickanthropus and you, my dear, are about to be subject to a most thorough porking."

You lower your voice, soft and breathy.

"Oh my, Hortensius, I don't know how my poor little flower will take all of that."

Astarion drops to a predatory crouch, crawling over to you. His grin is wide, canines toothily on display.

"Ah, my blushing maid, don't be shy! I may have a horse's cock, but I'm going to be as delicate as a pixie."

You cover your breasts in false modesty as he slides down alongside you.

"A pixie? I saw a pixie in my bushes last week. They're so ... naughty. And fast. Are you going to piston me into the middle of next week, Hortensius?"

"With pleasure. I'm going to piston you like the Steel Watch itself is between your legs - "

Your composure gives way and you slap at his shoulder.

"Not the fucking Steel Watch, for God's sake - "

"Why?" His fingers dance over your hips. "Maybe create another little Foundry down here - "

You're now shaking with laughter and Astarion watches you, the cheeky smirk slipping by inches, eyes kindling with an infinite warmth and adoration that only you are party to. You realise, as your mirth fades, that you had been carrying a great deal of tension too, and that he'd effectively dragged it away from you, deconstructing the last barrier; your fear of hurting him.

In spite of your earlier fervour, you clasp his cheeks between your palms and press his forehead to yours, staying like that for a while. He does not object, nose nudging sweetly against yours.

"Astarion, I want to try something."

"Go ahead."

In truth, you'd learned this minor illusion from Gale, whose knowing smile had almost had you running for the hills when you'd first asked him to teach it to you.

Fingers extending upward, you closed your eyes and focused on the Weave, drawing it closer to you, shaping with precision. Astarion exclaimed softly and you dropped your hand, ready to behold your work.

A fall of many-hued petals, delicate as snow, drifted down from the roof of the tent, each disappearing as they settled on the bedroll and your reclining forms. A pleasant scent, earthy and reminiscent of a forest clearing in the springtime, permeated the air. Soft golden motes danced between you, each emitting a delicate luminosity.

Astarion was watching the display with amused delight, allowing you to catch him off guard. Tipping him over onto his back, you took in the sight of him, fully nude, satiny skin and curls dusted in the remnants of illusory wildflowers, indigo, variegated red and yellow, rich royal purple and the dusky blush of dawn.

"You're so lovely. And free."

You banish petals with your caress, all the way down to the perfectly carved valley of his pelvis.

"I want the world to stand still when I look at you because there's no room for anything else in my mind."

He stops you with a finger to the lips, rising so that you're both lying on your sides, facing each other. He wears his composure well, through long habit, but there is something wild and desperately cast in his eyes.

"And I'm free because of you. Don't you forget it."

This time, nothing interrupts the slide of his skin on yours, the crushing, breathless intimacy that knows no bounds. There is no artifice here, no subtle trick or sly gleam of eyes watching you beneath hooded lids.

Astarion keeps your faces close together, watching every contortion of your features, drinking you in and opening himself to you entirely. He raises your leg onto his hip, still facing you as his fingers slip down, down, between your bodies.

You gasp as he strokes over your folds, his mouth coming down on your throat. His fangs sink in, only breaking the surface, right at the moment his fingers breach you. Crying out, you cling to him, drawing answering moans as he rocks against you.

His lips brush yours, un-coordinated, wet against the sides of your mouth. You taste the slight metallic tinge of your own blood, lost in heady ecstasy as the heat of his exhalation mingles with yours, rough and uneven. He nudges you when your head tilts back, keeping your eyes on him.

His fingers are now coated with the dewiness of your arousal, and he drags them up between you again, surprising you with just how wet he has made you in such a short time. You watch, breath hitching, as he slides them over his own hardened flesh, tracing pearly fluid down from the tip, coating himself.

You turn to lie on your back, but firm fingers grasp your hip, holding you in place. He tugs your leg further up on his waist, earning a soft gasp. You're more accessible to him like this, more vulnerable.

"Darling, I can't wait any - "

"Astarion, please."

Your soft plea triggers an almost animalistic movement from him, as he grinds upwards, pushing against your entrance. You're almost sobbing now, clutching at him, begging him. At his mercy, you bite your lip hard when he works himself in, sliding into the tight grasp of your heat.

He is trembling, you realise, ecstasy and agony in equal measure, chasing each other across his face as he pushes deeper, burying himself within you, staying with you. Even with the intensity of what you're both feeling, he keeps you in place, the hand that had stroked you now holding your thigh over him.

He begins a measured pace that quickly devolved to one of instinct, slowing down so that you clench around him, speeding up until your back arches, swallowing your disjointed whispers as he watches you come undone, and in doing so, comes apart himself.

In this golden time, you understand that you have never been more completely aware of another, of the muscle that ripples under alabaster skin, of the rapidly cooling sweat on his chest, of the way his scent winds around you, the way his body moves against and inside yours. He has taken your blood into himself, so many times, consumed you in so many different ways, and yet, this was wholly new.

Astarion isn't teasing you endlessly. He isn't bringing you to the brink, and releasing you, which is his specialty, as you're fully aware. He's throwing himself headlong into the passion of a true union, every thrust bringing you both closer to the dazzling precipice.

He is reckless in his lovemaking, somehow striking that balance between base urgency and shattering tenderness. You can see the building euphoria when your eyes meet his, the knowledge that this moment belongs to both of you, untainted, spun out in indestructible threads that bind you to each other.

You are close. You let him know, through the pale crescents your nails leave on his shoulder and side, through the way your voice rises, the way your hardened nipples push into him as your whole body stiffens and prepares for mind-numbing, white-hot pleasure, the way you take his fingers into your mouth with hedonistic abandon.

He drinks it all in, tracking every movement, every glimmering bead of sweat, every minute crease between your brows. Fighting back years of conditioning, he holds you impossibly closer, your body a shield against the memory of every meaningless, sordid encounter.

Your eyes drag open, tears glistening where they have gathered at the corners, slipping down across the bridge of your nose, bringing the sight of his face to sudden clarity.

You let him see it, all of it; the moment your climax crashes like a wave over every sense, that most secret of faces. You let him see that he is the only one who can bring you to this place, this endless horizon that curves across your vision like a shard of jacinth.

Astarion is now gasping endearments. They fall from his lips in a litany, one declaration melding into another. You hold onto him as your own mind slowly clears, senses thrumming with the aftermath of the pleasure he has brought you.

He is close.

You surrender complete control to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hips lift from the bedroll in fitful abandon, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

"My ... my sweet, I'm - ah - you're so - don't know what you - "

At any other time, seeing Astarion, with his mastery of seductive words that bordered on legendary, in this barely coherent state, would have been cause for wonder indeed. As with all else, however, you took things as they were, treasured them.

Here, with you, he didn't have to be that. Here, he needed no flowery phrases and practiced gestures. Here, he was yours, in wiry strength and hidden fragility, in biting humour and those rare moments of stark realism, when he did his best to protect you from a world who's cruelty he had experienced all too many times.

When he finally reaches his peak, lips drawn  back from teeth, brow furrowed in supreme pleasure, tendons standing out on his neck as a series of guttural sounds escape him, you smooth your hands up and down his back, bringing him slowly back to you.

You press soft kisses across his nose, along his jawline, his body giving one last shudder as your lips ghost over his ear and you nuzzle into his hair. Slowly regaining focus, his gaze fixes on your face, a slow, radiant smile gathering, a stray ray of sunshine burning through overcast skies.

Something bubbles up in his chest, overflows into the almost non-existent space between your bodies. A peal of laughter, so bright, so free of pain, lancing through you like the keen point of an arrow, the barbs lodging somewhere deep in your chest.

You could listen to him laugh like this forever.

He finally releases you, rolling over onto his back, that same giddy smile refusing to diminish. One of his arms extends, drawing you close so that your head now rests on his chest, your shoulders encased in the solid curve of his arm.

"My love, my light, that was - "

His chest heaves again, and his head moves from side to side in cheerful disbelief. You can't help the grin that breaks across your own countenance.

"Careful, Astarion. You sound happier than the first time you drank from me."

"But this is better! This is - "

His enthusiasm cuts off, faster than words escape him. Something chokes him, holds the rest of sentence prisoner until he takes a heavy breath, releases it. The catch in his voice adds strength to your grip on him.

"This is perfect. This is ... everything I want it to be."

You remain silent, not trusting your own voice now. When he speaks again, it is so soft that you almost miss the words.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. Never for this."

Later, as the outside intrudes once again into the sanctity of your tent, when the rustle of the wind in the trees, the crack of new firewood given up to the hungry flames of the campfire and the distant song of nocturnal birds echoes back to you, you place your hand over where his heart should beat.

It had been somewhat disconcerting, the first time you'd felt the lack of that steady rhythm beneath your fingertips. Now, however, you felt something entirely different.

This was no empty void, no echoing palace of yesterday's torment. Astarion had come so much further than that. He was here, beside you, of his own free will. There was no such thing as true emptiness, not in a life as rich as this one, that of a man who had given up so much to walk, just once more, in the sun.

No. This space where vitality should make itself known was threaded through with so many scars, but from that barren landscape, verdant new growth came, tended carefully. You could see how it stole over him, and you, in every shared touch, every wound bandaged, every battle fought side by side, every new delight you found in each other.

It came like a thief, robed in night, and laughed as it took the title of queen, enthroning itself in your hearts. It had taken up the sceptre, usurped your earthly kingdom and banished all notion of loneliness.

Such was the nature of love, and so it would remain, until that final red sunrise came to claim you both.

@tattoo-of-a-bird Finally got the courage to write this one.

[thechaoslibrarian]

One and only.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!reader

Genre & warnings: smut and fluff, post act 3, soft Astarion, fingering, slight overstimulation and orgasm denial, unprotected sex, a lil of anxiety? and thinking but lots of love too, blood, biting.. I don't think there's more?

Words: 4.4k (damn i didn't think it was that long oof.

Healing is a slow process, but with you it's a little easier.

Astarion paced back and forth in front of the tent, weighing the words that were floating in his mind, the feeling that pooled in his stomach and shoved off the fear hidden in the back of his mind.

You were different because you cared about him. You reminded him every night before you'd close your eyes and fell asleep in his arms, and you respected him like none ever did. You reassured him whenever he'd ask you if you were still okay to wait for him until he was ready to try again with sex, and he was oh so grateful for it.

It's been around three years since you were free of the tadpole, you'd grown so much together: patching up each other's wounds while learning how to love. You taught him to be intimate without bedding you. You taught him how caresses could be so much more than sex.

He looked around the camp, you called your old companions for another adventure, helping you find a cure for vampirism, and they all eagerly accepted.

Aylin and Isobel were the only ones missing, literally.

You found a nice spot in the underdark, glowing mushrooms of pretty colors decorated all around you, and the circular cave was just perfect enough for the bunch of you.

You were fumbling around the fire, trying to roast a boar leg you got at a small merchant you found on the road.

Gale was trying to interfere with that boar leg cooking process, but you didn't want to hear him, especially after you had to live off his particularly unsavory stew for months, this time you were taking the metaphorical chef hat and feeding everyone with your newfound skills. Three years away from adventure had to be filled one way or another.

The camp was always lively, that's one of the perks of being so many.

Wyll was playing with Boo, while Minsc and Jaheira were playfully fighting over something dumb. Karlach and Halsin were fast asleep next to the fire, snoring loudly between Gale's words.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart were discussing as always and, though everyone was too distracted to hear him, Astarion was still mumbling to himself while pacing.

The dinner was great, you could see it in the eyes of everyone as they bit into the tender meat and shared stories. Minsc was deep into another tale of Boo, Jaheira and him as your eyes wandered to Astarion, which still hasn't had his dinner.

You couldn't see him, until you noticed that the oil lamp in your tent was on, and his shadow was fixing something around the tent. For what you knew he was moving the pillows scattered around, in a way that you'd be more comfortable while he fed.

They all knew at this point that you'd let him feed off you on daily basis, it started back while you were on your way to Baldur's Gate back then, and you took the habit so much that at a certain point you didn't even feel dizzy after he'd been done.

You excused yourself as you made your way to the tent, it was one of those nights where you needed an extra long hug, and a few kisses on the forehead.

When you opened the flap of the tent, he was still fighting with a pillow, trying to fluff it up just how he liked it, but failing. He was glad that he learned how to hide his emotions, shoving the tension down and away.

You kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his before taking the pillow from his grasp.

He followed your movements closely with his eyes, as you put the pillow on the floor.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but to watch you punch the pillow relentlessly, was definitely not on the list. Though after you were done, the pillow was somehow perfect. Was that how his pillow was always extra fluffy?

You gave him a soft smile before you tossed it next to the others, which you noticed were arranged differently, making something closer to a nest, than your usual layout.

You both didn't speak, you were so close that you'd know just by looking at your bodies, or the way your face crunched, and yours clearly said "cuddle".

In a matter of seconds, he pulled you in his arms before scooting closer to the pillows to rest there.

He loved the way you'd make yourself comfortable on his lap, how you wiggled for a moment before finding that nook where your head rested perfectly on his chest, and the way you would hum when you were happy with the position you chose.

He could live off just of that pretty sound that would come out of your lips.

You were so absorbed by the closeness that you didn't notice the barely perceptible hesitation in his touch, as he slowly turned your face to him, making sure you could hold eye contact for a moment.

The eagerness and the pure undevoted love were fighting with the fear, the fear of reliving those nights he tried so hard to forget, but at the end of the day, he needed you. He needed you more than he feared his nightmares, he needed to feel you around him, he needed to let you feel his love, his devotion, all of him.

If there was one person that he wanted to love so deeply, it was you.

So many times he thought of trying to have sex again just to see if he still was disgusted, but only with time he was able to realize that he wasn't disgusted by sex, he was disgusted of being stripped of his chance to back away. And the more he got to know you, the more he grew closer to you, the more he longed for you, in every way. It was no longer the need for release or just the fucking without attachments, he wanted to make love with you. He wanted to hear you moan his name like a chant, he wanted to feel your hands reach were no one was ever allowed to: tracing his back, on the dip of his lower back, around his hips, at the center of his chest, where his heart, your heart, resided.

There was no one else he desired like this, the idea of other people, or having other lovers but you, made him retch. He didn't want love unless it came from you, he didn't want sex unless it was you making him feel lightheaded. Of course it took him a lot of time to understand this, and a lot of work around his feelings, and his body, and you never shied away from any of his attempts to push his boundaries.

You helped him reshape the ideas of the smallest things, down to skinship.

Even after hours of brooding on how to ask you, he found himself speechless at the sight of your soft eyes filled with love, and the peaceful smile you gifted him. He was mesmerized.

It took him a second to just recollect, as he took his time ingraining in his mind that look he loved so much.

"My love" He whispered as he cupped your cheek, making you lean into his touch. "I've been thinking a lot" His thumb traced your cheekbone ever so slightly, drawing a delicate humm from you. He had planned a lot to say but as you leaned close, the speech was already out the window. So he just lowered you on the bed, and crashed his lips to yours.

It took you a second to process the unexpected movement, but a second later you were lost within his kiss.

Initially it was rough, the way he gripped on you, like an instinct that he could barely control, full of yearning and need, but slowly, the more you relaxed in his arms, savoring the taste of his kiss, the more he would slow down, like a love poem traced with his whole body.

His hands would graze over your hips, your shoulders, your neck, every bit of exposed skin was being caressed by his slender fingers, holding and molding your body like it was putty.

He rested his forehead against yours as he caught his breath, and allowed you as well. His eyes were closed as he was lost in your sweet scent.

It took him another long moment before being able to control his breath, regain his senses as his head was already spinning away.

"My love, allow me.." He breathed ooutsweetly as he latched his hand around yours, your fingers intertwining in his like an instinct. "Allow me to feel you." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "Allow me to make you mine" The words came out almost as a plea, like a starved man that was in front of a banquet and forced to resist the need. His lips traveled to your neck, resting where he'd usually drink from you.

"I'm already yours" You whimpered as you could feel his teeth graze, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with tenderness, as his eyes were rounder than usual, and his gaze was soft. Though there was a yearning feeling in the bottom, drowned momentarily by the adoration.

So many nights you had to leave the tent to take care of your needs, as you didn't want to burden Astarion with it. You wanted him to be fully there as he helped you release all that pent up tension, not just a shell of him. You craved his love, not his body.

You had to resist the very urge to push your hips against him, even though he was asking you already. You wanted to make sure he was truly okay before making any movement.

He groaned as he tilted your neck, pressing his lips right under your chin, and descending between your clavicle. He wanted to worship every millimeter of you, no skin would have to go unkissed.

"I want to make love to you, my one" He left a bite on your shoulder, no teeth were deep enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to steal a delicious mewl from you.

His words made your heart roar.

You raised your head enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes, now sultry, half closed as his lips still rested on your skin, dropping sweet kisses right where he was.

"Mh, you sure?" You asked as your body basked in the attention he was providing.

"Like I've never been before. I dreamt for so long to have you wrapped around me" He moved again, until your chests were against each other, and your noses were meeting. "I want no one else but you. I want to know what having the love of your life so close, so vulnerable feels like" He placed a quick kiss on your nose. "I just want to get lost in you, to hold you like I've never held anyone" his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to him, like he wanted to merge your bodies. "I want to be one with you" He whispered as he closed his eyes again, inhaling your flowery scent mixed with his.

Your heart was pounding so loudly against your rib cage that you would have sworn he could feel it without leaning in.

You wanted to sound louder, but as your lips opened to say that yes, the sound came in almost a strangle

by all your emotions.

Astarion's eyes glimmered with a light you've never seen before resting there.

He was gentle as he undressed you, every inch that was being revealed to his eyes, was met with his yearning lips, drawing all sorts of pleading sounds from you. Your body was already shaking like a lire string as it was touched, and your lips chanting a melody for him.

His descent was agonizingly slow, but what struck you was how his movements were.

You knew he was well versed in sex, but the way he was caressing, tracing, kissing, biting, was the one of a man that was trying to listen to your reactions, to savor the tiniest sensations, to learn his lover, such a difference from the confident man that fucked you senslessly in a forest three years prior.

It was no longer about repayment for the feed or protection, it was pure undevoted love in each touch.

Just with those miniscule attentions, your heart was swelling for him, and little did you know that he was hitting him as well, all your emotions flowing around you in the small space of the tent.

Your clothes were soon on the other side of the floor and you took your time admiring him in all his beauty: the way his chest was rising, the way his skin was covered in small old marks, so carefully healed that you wouldn't be able to discern them unless you would be trying to remember his every pore.

"Gods i wish you could see yourself through my eyes right now" He sighed. "I've seen you naked so many times, but right now? No goddess could compare next to you" He kissed your navel delicately as his fingers were grazing your thighs.

You could feel your cheeks igniting at the praise. You wished for a moment you still had that tadpole eating your brain, just for a second to show him the true vision. His body was so perfect in front of you, the truly breathtaking view. You could have sworn he would have made such a perfect painting.

Before you could open your mouth though, he was praising you again.

"No words would be enough for me to explain how every curve of your body makes me ache for you, my one" He leaned forward, placing wet kisses from your neck, down to your hips, over and over again until his name was a broken mewl from you lips.

He stopped between your thighs, taking his time to spread you wide open for him. He kissed that spot that caught his mind right away, that perfect dip of your hips, where stretch marks were concentrated.

He hummed as he couldn't help but graze them with his teeth, stealing one moan that made him almost melt.

Then agonizingly slowly he kissed the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses until his nose brushed against your clit. You wanted to beg for him to eat you, but his head turned towards the other tight, repeating the tantalizing trail of kisses until he reached for your dripping cunt.

"You are so ready for me" He kissed right above your clit, teasing you more and more. "But I have to dine first" a finger gently traced the outline of your lips, taking his time before dipping it between your folds, and earning a moan. It was so long since someone touched you, you could feel your whole body clench at the smallest touch.

He kissed your thigh again, sighing at the softness of your skin. You were so wet he just inserted another finger in you and started pumping in your pussy, drawing those perfect moans from you again, music to his pointy ears.

Then as he added another finger, his teeth sank in your plush thigh. All of your senses jolted up, amplifying everything as he started drinking from you.

His slender fingers reached right where he made you cry in pleasure, as you slowly gave in to the lightheadedness.

As he kept feeding, he still worked you like he knew every movement that would make you whimper, drawing always so near to your orgasm before pulling away.

Moments later he finally let go of your thigh, his teeth slipped away from the pricks they had made home in, and licked away the rivlet of blood still spilling from the new wound, causing your body to arch even more under his tongue. You were so close, so desperate to come you'd chant his name like a prayer, just so he'd taste you.

Instead he pulled out his fingers, taking one at a time in his mouth and sucking your slick off of them.

"You are delicious, my love" He moaned as he popped each finger out of his lips.

You were on edge, so tempted to take control and ride his face until you'd come on his lips, but you had to restrain yourself, you wanted him to guide you through it, you wanted him to have full control of his and your body.

His tongue reached for the rivlet of blood on his lips before pulling you in his lap, your thighs wrapped around his hips like they were made just for that. You could feel his erection press against your folds as he pulled you closer.

His lips and yours clashed together in something that was akin to a slow dance, your arms wrapped around his neck, while his held you by your hips.

You could drink the sighs he was letting out, the smile he grew in that intimate moment, the reason why he wanted you in this position.

For months he tried to imagine how he wanted to make love to you, how he'd feel the safest, and his mind always came back at the idea of your chests against each other, your lips so close he could kiss you, but also where he could hear your moans the closest. How he wanted you to rest against him as he whispered how perfect you were for him, he wanted you. All of you. All of your warmth, all of your skin, all of your sights, he wanted to see how he was affetting you, and how you affected him. He wanted to lift your chin, to kiss your neck, he wanted the both of you to find respite in the tight hold.

Seeing you so close to him, so vulnerable just how much he would be, it was how he wanted it to go, cause this for him was like a first time. He wanted to be overwhelmed by you, as you consumed him.

He wanted to feel his home in you. In you and only you.

He took a moment, resting against you, clinging to you like you were going to disappear from his grasp.

"If you want to stop, you just have to say it, my star" You whispered as you rested a hand in his hair, drawing circles on his scalp as he breathed in your scent, that was slowly mixing with the smell of sex.

"No my love, I'm just bathing in you before doing anything else" He admitted, placing a kiss on your neck, where he was resting his head.

"I don't think I could ever exchange this for anything. No power, or castle could compare to the home I made in your heart". His words were warm, caring, just like scorching fire against ice.

"I love you" You murmured as you caressed his cheek, and brought him back to you.

"I love you too, my one" He kissed you slowly as he guided you up. Bringing you to rest your forehead against each other as you slowly sank on his length. A gasp simultaneously filled the tent, so loud it could wake up everyone, but you didn't care. The air was pulled out of your chests, as you clinged on each other.

You both waited a moment before doing any movement, both overwhelmed by the closeness and the pleasure.

You wrapped around him so perfectly, he could barely keep any control over his body, his mind or his lips.

"Mh so perfect for me" He whispered sultry, as he guided you through the slow movement, allowing him to bottom out before having your hips meet his again, stealing another breathy moan.

It was slow, tender, so much that you could feel your eyes become glassy.

Nothing could ever compare to the fire that was spreading around your body as he picked up pace, stealing everything from you. Your air, your whimpers, your heart, over and over again.

He wanted to savor every inch of you, he would allow himself to fill you to the hilt, as he threw his head back.

"M-mine" He lulled as he couldn't resist the urge to go faster, his body loosing control of his movements.

It became all so sloppy, ragged as he grasped at you ass, his nails sinking into your skin as he slapped his hips against yours.

"This is what you do to me" He rasped as he lolled his head back. His hair wild as some curls fell on his face. His mouth agape as he choked praises.

Sweet gasps echoed between the syllables of your name, as he submitted to the pleasure.

He wanted to scream, to let everyone know you were his and no one could ever coax those sounds from him like you did, so effortlessly.

Your fingers twirled naturally around his curls, pulling his head to yours as you deepened the kiss along with your movements, savoring the taste of his lips and sweat as you made him see the stars.

You drank each other's moans with your lips as you completely gave away to the pleasure, as you gave all of you to each other.

You could barely register who was directing, cause your bodies just felt like one. Molten lava simply mixing as it burned hot like the hells.

You were so close, your whole body shaking as you could barely form a proper sentence. "L-love y-you" You muttered though your tongue felt indescribably heavy and light simultaneously.

You were drunk on him, your eyes rolling back as he hit that spot that could make you come undone. He worshiped every inch he could reach with his lips, making sure your body was left with a memory of the night, of his trust, of his love.

"You fill me so well" you praised with the last bit of your sanity, stealing the most precious sound from his lips.

Euphoria washed over Astarion as he was high on the feeling of your pussy clenching uncontrollably around him.

He pumped in you insatiably as you could feel it build up, the familiar knot as your muscles tensed up, feeling the heat rise and your legs shake.

You were not sure what it was, maybe it was the moaned praises, or his touch, or the way his hair bounced as he sank in your, but you felt your body being stripped of all the flesh, pleasure taking it's place as your orgasm washed over you. Your head rested on his shoulder as he was still lost in you, so close to his own release.

You knew that the only sound in the camp was your skin slapping, and the lustful sounds you'd make for each other.

The frenzy turned into a slow-burning passion, his hips rhythmically pounding in you as his lips met again with yours in a matching kiss, your moans mixing in the middle as you could feel it again, your orgasm building so quickly you barely had time to process how sensitive you were.

You let go of his lips to admire how his mouth parted, a series of whimpered moans fell from his lips as you could feel every inch of you being dragged away in the second orgasm at the sole sight.

His hips stuttered once, twice, before the arrogant orgasm sent him to the moon, spilling all his cum in your warmth.

He stayed in you for a few more moments as he processed how elated he felt.

There was no one else in the universe that would make him feel so safe, so loved. He was gentle as he laid with you in his arms, drawing shapeless lines along your velvety skin.

He couldn't hold back the tears that were forming at the edge of his eyes, as he held this night so close to his heart. For him, this was his first time, and it was with you, his other half.

You noticed right away when the first few tears started tracing his skin. You were so afraid of his reaction that this was like a shock to you, in a way.

You prayed the morninglord he wasn't already regretting the intimacy, maybe he didn't feel what you felt: that sense of belonging, the overwhelming love.

You cupped his cheek as you caught a tear with your thumb. "Are you ok, my star?" You whispered as you took away another and another with tenderness that made Astarion even more emotional.

He slowly met your gaze, his eyes so soft and his lips curled in a tender smile as the droplets still descended down his cheeks.

"I'm perfect, my love" He rested his hand on yours, clasping at your fingers and bringing them away from his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" You offered a reassuring look, the one he learned meant that you were a safe space where he could speak his mind unfiltered.

"I dreamt of this nights for months, how I would ask you, and how I'd hope this would carry out" He exhaled for a moment as he toyed with your fingers.

"And none of those dreams could ever get close to this" His smile was getting wider, accentuating those lines you loved so much.

"I don't care for sex, unless it's with you. Unless it's loving you with every inch of me, unless it means undressing ourselves and being exposed in all our vulnerability. Unless it means I get to feel you become part of me" You were absorbed by his words and his eyes, that you didn't notice he let go of your hand to hold you closer.

"You are the other part of me", He let out shakily. "I might even say you are the best part as well." He kissed your forehead tenderly. "You are my one and only" He whispered at last as he dragged the blanket he had left on the side, on your bodies. You murmured something between a love confession and a praise as he lulled you to sleep in his embrace.

You were fast asleep as he finally remembered what he was forgetting.

He summoned a mage hand, trying to be as silent as possible. The ghostly arm reached under one pillow and pulled out the velvety box, before shoving it in Astarion's backpack and dissolving its form.

"Tomorrow" He noted in his mind. "Tomorrow I'll ask you"

[thechaoslibrarian]

Pink.

Info: This is part of a drabble series I'm starting, about colours and their associations with emotions. This one's happier and hornier then the last one, yay.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav (unnamed)

Summary: Their first time post endgame, when they had decided to take it slow for Astarion's sake.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, PiV, some happy tears and blood (only a drop). It's porn with a tiny bit of plot and LOTS of feelings. This isn't kinky at all, they're not fucking, they're making love. It's romantic, it's vanilla, it's what we all deserve every once in a while.

Word count: 4k

Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav/reader - Pink [associations: love and romance, peace & nurture, warmth & euphoria]

It was a quiet, clear night, dim lights dancing around the crackling wood in the fireplace in Tav and Astarion’s bed chamber inside the Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. After defeating the Brain, Wyll had taken over as Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, offering guest rooms to anyone in the party who wished to stay in the city. Indefinitely if necessary, he had said, which was a relief since the two hadn’t yet decided when or where to join the army of spawns in the Underdark that had been unleashed after Cazador’s defeat. Seven weeks had passed since they’d saved the city. And they had gone over quickly, as everyone was still either recovering or helping to rebuild all that’s been broken under the Abolute’s attempt for tyranny. 

Astarion lay in their mahogany bed, reading something he believed only Gale would truly enjoy - some Netherese crap about the Weave and whatnot. He could get used to this though; residing like royalty in a castle and being treated as one of the city's heroes. The guest rooms were clearly built to accommodate noblemen, furnished with care and a certain touch of arrogance, much to his liking. Glancing up from his book, his view followed his lover when she made her way across the room, dressed in a dark nightgown and her hair damp. Putting the dusty tome aside, he stretched out an arm to grab her attention and said, “Come here, my love?”

She answered with a smile, taking his hand and sat down next to him. “Missing me already?”

“Terribly,” he jested, fingertips brushing across her knuckles. “The nerve of you leaving me alone here in Ravengard’s chamber of horrors.”

“This chamber of horrors just provided me with yet another free bath, for your information,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Are you hungry? You haven’t fed in a while.”

“Positively ravenous,” he said, fangs poking out of his sly grin as he pulled her into bed. 

“I see.” She held back a laugh. So that’s where the dramatics came from.

Holding her close, Astarion’s head went where it belonged, to the crook of her neck, his favourite spot, where he could smell her blood flowing even through her skin. But there was something else, a new scent drifting to him from her hair. Lavender? Hells, Wyrm’s Rock truly wasn’t half bad. Just as he inhaled again, she turned at an angle to offer her neck to him fully. He grinned to himself. Always so eager to please. 

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the icy caress Astarion would pull her in. His fangs pricking her skin only ever hurt for a mere moment before a pleasant coldness spread through her body, sucking the energy from her like a proper hike would. She didn’t mind the blood loss and was happy to provide him with what he had told her was the finest red he’d ever tasted. Any moment now, his fangs would penetrate and make way for him to feed on her. When his lips finally touched her though, his canines remained absent. A kiss, gentle and soft, was pressed to her neck. Then another. The sensation wasn’t unknown but still unexpected. Instead of turning cold, an immediate warmth spread from where his lips lingered, up to her cheeks and down, all the way to her core. The kisses kept coming, wandering up to her jaw, then back down towards her chest, his hands still holding tightly onto her waist. She released a sudden, hot breath, unsure of what this meant. 

Astarion and Tav hadn’t slept with each other since the party at the Druid’s Grove, having decided that it was for the best to take it slow. He had told her that he didn’t know what he wanted for himself in terms of sex, after two hundred years of having to lure in people for Cazador with his body. He only knew he wanted her, one way or another. And she had agreed, that he had to heal first, find himself and discover a worth unrelated to offering himself for other people’s pleasure. That he could be safe somewhere, with someone, without giving something in return. 

They still had been close since, held hands at any moment that allowed it, spent nights exchanging small kisses, or her favourite, holding his face while they talked and watching him look at her for what felt like hours.

But this, the way he planted kisses on her now, was completely different and reminded her of their night in the Grove. Though surprising, the affection wasn’t unwelcome. She’d lie if she said she hadn’t missed it. Her promise remained true, she would wait for him to be ready, no matter how long it took, even though her body longed so heavily for his touch from time to time. Still, she needed to be sure if she was reading the situation correctly.

“Astarion?” she asked, another gasp escaping her when he sucked on a tender spot, to which he immediately stopped.

His lips pulled away from her, a confident grin still on his face. "Yes, darling?" 

“Are you sure? If you want this, I mean.”

His hand went up to her neck, fingers placed behind her ear while his thumb traced her jawline. “Feeding from you? Oh, you know it’s my favourite pastime.” 

“Not the feeding. The kissing.”

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes retracted as if he was suddenly shy, roaming over the sheets next to them. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt like it. If you don’t want me to-”

“No, no,” she interrupted as she put her hand upon his. “I like it. I really do. I just want you to know that we don’t have to… go all the way through with it. We can stop at any time, alright?”

His eyes met hers again. “Darling, I tend to finish what I’ve started.” He neared her face with his, staring at her lips. “But thank you. For saying that.” 

Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her deeply, his hand on her neck pulling her even closer. His lips like velvet brushed against hers so smoothly, leaving hers agape. He let himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling her with him so she could straddle his hips. 

Astarion smiled as he looked up at her. “I missed this, you know.”

“So did I,” she replied, voice hardly above a whisper before closing the gap between them once more. The kiss was more tender, some kind of promise woven within as their tongues met, until she felt him getting hard beneath her. It was his turn to gasp now, followed by a chuckle when he felt her rolling her hips against him. 

“I can tell,” he mumbled between kisses, his fingers playing with the strap of her robe and quickly untying the knot. Falling open, the robe granted him a view of her figure, delicious and relaxed, that made it impossible to keep his hands to himself. He reached between the fabric, hands running up her sides, thumbs softly touching the plump skin on the underside of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered into the night without fully realising it, before pulling her close again. A searing kiss with her fingers raking through his hair followed as the robe slipped from her shoulders, now only attached to her at the sleeves around her underarms. 

She pulled them off, tossed the gown to the side, and unbuttoned his shirt in return. Astarion watched her nimble fingers work and decided to help by pulling it over his head, soon to join her gown on the floor. With nothing but his trousers between them, she felt his erection grow harder and ground against him once more, marking his trousers with a trail of her wetness. 

“Now, now,” he cautioned. “Leave some for me to taste you, will you?” He sat up, pressed a kiss to her burning lips and proceeded to turn her over, so she was on her back. Hovering above her, his eyes darkened ever so slightly, a hungry grin plastered across his face before he made his way down to her core.

Just thinking about it made her head spin, how he would touch her there, savour the essence between her legs. Not tonight though, she thought as her hand found his hair, tugging lightly on it when he was halfway down. Astarion looked at her, a question hanging between them.

“As much as I’d love you to do that, I want this to be about you. I want to make you feel good,” she said, holding his chin gently between her fingers.

Astarion blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he studied her for a moment. “Oh.”

“Is that okay?” she asked and he seemed to think of what to say. What he wanted.

“I suppose it is, yes,” he then said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards, showing off a dimple. 

She sat up, repressing a smile and took his hand in hers. “Lie down, love. Make yourself comfortable.”

When he did and had nestled himself between the frilly cushions, Tav straddled him again, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Astarion grabbed the outside of her thighs this time, sliding up to the curve of her hip and then back to cup the cheeks of her ass. She smiled into the kiss, letting him touch her however he wanted before she pulled her head back and made her way down his body. 

Both her hands were on his thighs now, starting at his knees and slowly stroking upwards. When she reached his groin he released a shaky breath, looking at her intently. She began to undo his trousers, so he pushed his hips up, helping her to get rid of the pesky garment once and for all. Turning back to him, her hands went straight to the tent that had formed beneath his briefs, touching him through the last layer of fabric. Astarion’s breathing turned shallower when she pulled them off him too, leaving him bare before her. With his erection freed, she took in the sight of him, making sure to etch the image into her memories forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t find the words to describe how perfect you look for me,” she told him as she reached for his dick. Pumping it once, twice, and still watching him react to her touches, she asked, “Does that feel good for you?”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded as if her movements had him entranced. “It does, yes. More than good.”

Her thumb brushed over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had accumulated before she bent down. With a flattened tongue, she licked a stripe from bottom to top, looking Astarion in the eyes to see his lids close, brows knitted and mouth agape, sucking in a hiss of approval. Pleased with his reaction, she pumped him again, then wrapped her lips around him, softly at first, and swirled her tongue around the top. Working her way down, she tried to take more of him each time, stroking her hand down the part that didn’t fit. Her tongue flattened when she bobbed down and twirled around the tip when she came back up, sucking in her cheeks and leaving Astarion a panting mess. 

Somehow, with his eyes still closed, his hands found their way into her hair and proceeded to guide her up and down on him at the pace he desired. She felt herself getting wetter then, having achieved just what she wanted - to be there for him, to serve him and to make this special night all about him and his needs. Moans filled the air when he approached his climax and she almost smiled with his dick in her mouth, still led up and down by his hands. His voice was like music to her ears, she could tell how close he was by the way his fingers gripped her scalp and the twitch in his hips, so she brought her free hand around his balls, cradling them with light touches, silently inviting him to let go.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his fingers twisting even tighter in her hair. “I, ah!” 

There it was, she thought, he was going to spill into her mouth any second. But then, right before he could, while cursing out a string of stressed moans, he pulled her off him. His chest was heaving, she realised, now that she could look at him again, a thin film of sweat spread across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”, she asked.

“Nothing, darling,” he said between deep breaths. “I just… It’s been a while, as you know, and I don’t want it to be over this quickly. I want this to last as long as I can possibly manage, which certainly will not be as long as I’d wish for it to be, judging by my current state. But there’s more I want to do with you. To you.”

He sat up and held her by the waist, meeting her with yet another kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as his erection pressed against her skin. Pushing her down by the shoulders, he made them switch positions, so he was on top again. 

“My turn,” he quipped, with a boyish smirk and began to kiss his way down her body. Hands on her chest, he squeezed her breasts tenderly, his mouth hovering over her left nipple.

“Wait,” she said, despite herself.

He stilled his movements, looking back at her. “Yes?”

"I wanted you to enjoy yourself fully tonight, you know," she began until his thumb circled her nipple, causing her eyes to shut close.

“Do I look like I’m not having fun?” he asked, resting his head down on her tit while he lazily massaged the other one.

“Oh, you do, believe me. But what I had in mind was more focused on you, not me. I’d rather please you than have you please me tonight.”

He chuckled to himself, eyes meeting hers again. “Darling, this is pleasing me. That’s exactly why I do it. For my pleasure. And yours of course. What I’m saying is, seeing you come undone by my hand, or tongue, or cock… is what I want most right now.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head with a laugh.

Astarion appeared serious in contrast, a pleading look on his features. “Please, let me do this.”

The laugh caught in her throat when she realised he truly meant it. He wanted to make her come for his pleasure. So she swallowed once and answered, “Okay then. Do as you wish.”

He let out a hum of approval as he began to suck on her nipple, his teeth scraping lightly across the surrounding skin. Tav’s breath hitched when he went for the other one, forcing her eyes to remain open. She needed to see every second of this.

He kissed a line down her stomach, his breath fanning into her navel when he settled between her legs. His expression was downright obscene as he kissed the tender skin on her inner thigh, eyes never leaving hers. His fangs had pricked the thin flesh, if intended or not, she didn’t know. A single droplet of blood gathered around the tiny wound, quickly wiped away by Astarion’s tongue. Another hum from him, his eyes flickering closed as he savoured the taste of her while his hands drew patterns and neared her core. 

She didn’t notice she was holding her breath when Astarion’s lips pressed a kiss to her pussy. 

“So wet, my darling,” he mused. “Just for me.” 

All she could do was nod between moans as he finally pressed his mouth against her and let his tongue dance over her clit. Her head snapped upwards, eyes on the ceiling above while he circled her, teased her and groaned deliciously into her skin. She pushed herself to look back down and watch him, his eyes already on her as he continued lapping and sucking at a torturous pace. Closing his eyes with what she interpreted as a grin, he brought a finger to her entrance, lightly pushing until it was inside of her. There was hardly any resistance, her body was so ready for him, welcoming all he had to give with ease. So he pushed and pulled a few times, then added a second finger while his tongue still worked its wonders on her. 

It felt like she was breathing fire, her lungs threatening to burst when he curled his fingers inside of her. Moans turned into screams and she instinctively threw her hands to his head, clutching his curls for dear life, pulling him even closer while this rogue bastard devoured her like a god. 

“I’m going to come,” she managed curtly, face already scrunched into a heavenly grimace. 

Astarion didn’t answer, focused on the task at hand and kept working her towards the finish line until everything inside her seemed to explode. Her entire body tensed, limbs convulsing as she screamed his name, surges of pleasure rippling through every muscle, every inch of her. Wave after mind-numbing wave crashed against her but he didn’t stop, didn’t break the contact between them and when she felt the orgasm begin to fade, Astarion sped up his movements, fingers and tongue ceaselessly striving to reach his goal a second time. He succeeded almost immediately. Just when she thought her breath would steady, when her twitching legs seemed to relax, another peak hit her, and this time it squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t gasp or scream anymore, only endure as the glorious rush made her lose her mind. Tav pulled Astarion off her, gasping for air and fell back into the pillows, chest heaving with a dull smile on her face.

He towered over her, grinning wickedly at the state of her before wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. “That was to your liking, I take it?”

She didn't answer, unable to find the strength yet, just waving her hand at him as she tried to come to her senses. Astarion laughed softly as he watched her chest move, the beads of sweat that had formed all over her body glistening in the light until she was capable of thinking again.

She got up in a daze, Astarion sitting upright on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on his lap, erection still visible. Tav crawled over to him, mirroring his position and kissed him at the same time as her fingers wrapped around his dick. He was still rock hard, breathing heavily into the kiss. “You nearly killed me, I’m afraid,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” His head fell back with a sigh as she pumped him faster, eager to give the man she loved so much the pleasure he had given her. 

She pulled his head back towards her, the need to watch him enjoy himself too strong. And he showed her everything, every twitch of an eyelid as she rolled her wrist around him, the way his mouth fell open when she squeezed him harder, or the deep line that formed between his eyebrows when he tensed. He moaned sharply and just when she thought he’d release, Astarion grabbed the hand that was working on him.

Tav stopped her movements, afraid she’d done something wrong or that he wasn’t ready, that it still might be too much for him. “Are you all right?”

He brought her hand towards his face and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Quite alright, my dear.”

“What’s the matter then?”

He eased her worries with a smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “I don’t want it to end like this tonight. I want something else. More.”

Anything, she’d do anything for him. “And what is it that you want?”

Shadows fell upon his eyelids as he bent his head down, still maintaining eye contact. “I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth fell open for a split second before she could nod. Too eager it seemed, as Astarion grinned at her reaction. “Lie down, darling.”

She followed his instructions and let him get on top before he pressed himself against her, supporting his weight with one arm. Another kiss, short and sweet, contradictory to the situation was placed on her lips as he lined himself up at her entrance. And when he pushed himself in, all the air seemed to leave her lungs once again. He did it slowly, watching her reactions closely, as he entered her inch by inch. They moaned in unison when he bottomed out, some wicked sense of relief, a feeling of wholeness, uniting them. He pulled back equally as slow, a need to prolong and savour this moment for as long as possible spreading in his chest. She reached for his face, holding onto each side delicately as he rocked back and forth, her mouth falling open when he hit a particular spot. 

“Do you want me to turn around for you?” she asked, her thumb caressing his earlobe.

“No,” he whispered. “I need to look at you right now.”

That somehow left her speechless and she returned to enjoying the feeling of him fucking her slowly as well as the sight he granted her with. He didn’t speed up his movements but ground into her harder after a while, unable to resist the temptation any longer, already panting from how turned on he was. His voice was quiet, barely audible to her, had she not paid such close attention. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He sang it like a poem with every snap of his hips against hers. 

“I love you too,” she replied, pressing her fingers tighter against his neck in confirmation.

“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed, still moving in and out. “I Iove you.” 

Something wet landed on her chest, a warm droplet of some sort. A single tear, she quickly realised, that had fallen from Astarion’s eyes. She wiped away its trace on his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She’d hold him like this until the end of time if he needed her to, would tell him how much he meant to her for hours on end if he only asked. “I love you, too,” she replied with certainty until their lips met yet again. Her tongue found his and she could still taste herself on him, mixed with the salty flavour of another tear, which must have been hers. 

When they pulled back and looked at each other, Astarion was still fucking her at a leisurely pace. He exhaled a laugh and said, “Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The crying and all.”

Tav smiled, wiping away her own tears. “It’s okay, I don’t mind a bit of sappiness every once in a while.”

“Enough of that, I say,” he answered and sped up his movements. She could feel him hitting even deeper now, more determined than before and as he turned her hips at an angle, she knew the coil in her belly was about to snap again. He held her feet to his chest, leaning over her like a magnificent predator as he thrust into her again and again. His other hand went to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, never slowing the rate at which he fucked her. 

Her vision blurred as the third orgasm hit her, eyes rolling back in her head as the pressure became unbearable and she could only scream his name. Astarion moaned at her convulsing around him, her pussy squeezing him even tighter in rhythmic throbs. He came with his head falling back, releasing his seed into her hot cunt with a few more hard thrusts. He fell on top of her then, muscles finally unwinding and his mind free of everything but her.

They stayed like that for a long while, sticky bodies pressed together, limbs tangled and Astarion’s dick still sheathed inside of her. There was no need to talk, they knew what the other one was thinking anyway, so they held each other until sleep pulled them from consciousness.

@bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[thechaoslibrarian]

The Ball

(Image is NOT mine, it’s from Kate Kotova’s YouTube Community.)

Astarion x F!reader

Word count: A LOOOTTT

First time writing so please give any constructive criticism. Tell me if Astarion is out of character or whatnot. Here I wanted him to be pretty frustrated so he’s rougher than usual. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.

Summary: You were getting ready for a ball until Astarion randomly fucks you into oblivion.

Warnings: use of gross words, cervix fucking, VERY rough sex, extreme discomfort, neediness, blood, ruined makeup, anger, cnc, pain, tears, ripping of clothing, weird inconsistent pov, scent, breeding kink, cringe writing, past trauma, voyerism, harsh choking, lots of eye rolling, short sentences, regret

——————-

The edge of the drawer dug into your ribs harshly and the pain was becoming intolerable. Your palms flat against the waxed wood, pushing against the weight behind you. You winced when the figure behind pressed harder into you, being far from comfortable. It was like talking to a brick wall when you opened your mouth to speak. He was stuck in a deep trance involving your scent, and the unsteady beating of your heart. All he could hear was the hammering of the pulse and you smelled and looked absolutely amazing. Beyond amazing. Astounding. The way your dress fitted you perfectly. Breasts threaten to burst out of the dress, almost overflowing from the top. Your cleavage being the most prominent part of your whole get up, other than the accessories. The dress was white with laces on the rim surrounding your breasts, and on the end of your clothing as well. The outfit shimmered and was made to stand out from the others in the ball. The jewelry was what really stole the show though, dangle earrings, waist chain over the fancy fabric, bracelet, and a pearled necklace. You were adorned head to toe, your beauty would stun the crowd. Yet Astarion has you here, secured in his grip. It’s like he didn’t want anyone to see you in such a glamorous outfit. Someone could steal you away. It has been a while since Astarion initiated such intimate touching. With his view on sex tainted, you withheld from being inappropriate in any way. Worried about scaring him away, or reminding him of anything unpleasant. You stuck to loving words and affections that he so eagerly accepted and appreciated. The man was madly in love, and you, yourself. You showered him in so much care that it perplexed him. He only imagined or dreamed of being looked out for during years of hell, and never thought that it would actually come to fruition.

His nose and lips firmly pressed against your neck, providing soft kisses here and there. Cold breath sends shivers through your body. It was like a chilly winter breeze, making your hair stand. The kisses were sloppy, leaving small trails of saliva up and down your throat. You had an expensive perfume on, a bitter flavor to the tongue that he did not seem to mind. Too engrossed in this moment to care, wanting to feel and taste more. Maybe he liked the combination of the perfume and the flavor of your skin. Grabbing the arm that was locked around your waist, you squeeze, giving him a small warning to stop. The ball had already started, he promised to take you out dancing and flaunt your beauty to everyone there and show that you were his. It appears he regretted this decision. You were excited to sway and spin, to be close to him and your companions. You longed to see the others and the others wanted to see you too. You wanted to see the lights and the decorations. To see just how fancy the place was.

“I want to greet everyone.” You say, with his arms still locked around you. You tried excusing yourself to not remind him of ugly recollections. Trying not to have him cringe in disgust at any possible moment. Even with all of his confessions, he still held 200 years of secrets and uncomfortable experience that he was not willing to share. His coldness migrated behind your ear, hearing his sharp inhale. Very touchy this evening. What has him so worked up? Was he okay?

“They will see you soon enough, my love. Be patient.” He assured whilst rubbing his face against you, groaning, trying to lock in all of your musk mixed with perfume. He was ravenous. Mouth agape. A strong hand traced your left arm all the way up to your shoulder, and flipped the few wisps of your hair to the other side. Kisses now traced your jaw. Lips dry and chapped, moisture gone from the smooches. You could see the white curls come into view. Body flush against yours like a mold. Pale hands gripping your waist harshly and angling them to have the curve of your ass on his groin. “You look like an absolute treat tonight.” You could feel how each roughened finger dug deep to the point of almost hurting. Oh how you loved this. You missed his touch. Whether it be soft or hard, you still managed to enjoy yourself. Every movement made warmth course through you. Unexpectedly, he pricked your skin with one singular fang and licked the sweet red bead that came out with a sigh. Driving him crazy. Cool tongue teasing the sharp pain.

You grabbed the curls and ripped his lips off you.

“How about you be patient?” Your grip was firm, hurting his sensitive scalp. He hissed and even dared to flashed his fangs at you.

“You are hurting me.” You say bitterly. He presses less of his weight against you, letting you finally breathe better. But still being sandwiched between him and the drawer caused a sting.

“Still hurting me…”

He reluctantly pulls back, not much, but enough to keep the edge of the drawer from biting at your skin.

“I am starving—“ Words nothing but a whisper.

“I can tell.”

“Well be a dear, and give me just one bite?” He asked with honeyed words and puppy eyes.

“It’s never just one bite with you, Star.”

His hands roamed your body through your white dress, pawing at your breast, then down in between your thighs. The dress being an annoying obstacle.

“Oh how I missed you.” He sighs. You giggle at his words while you twirl a strand in your finger. It has not been long at all. He was quite literally in the other room while you did your makeup. And before that, both of you organized and planned your outfits for the day of the party together. You look over your shoulder with a smirk and a raised brow.

“Star, I was simply getting ready for the ball. I won’t take much longer.” You take a glimpse at his attire. All white, matching yours. The turtle neck, the colors, the swirls and patterns of his suit were all beautiful. Just like him. The shoulder pads that pronounced his shoulders. And his broad chest. You wanted to run your hands up and down his muscular figure but he firmly held you locked in place. He leaned into you again, though not as hard as before, your back arching to accommodate his body. Grinding on your bum. Noticing just how steel hard he was, your knees shook and your heels almost gave out.

“One bite? It won’t take long, love.” The man was hungry despite being fed the day before.

“Yes.” He immediately dives in and pierces your jugular. Fangs cause a sharp sting that makes you flinch. He will feed, then the two of you can finally go to the ball. Not wanting to suck you dry, he took shallow gulps. A moan rumbled from his chest and it vibrated through you. Astarion looked so hot with his composure uncharacteristically broken. The blood dribbling from the puncture being the sweetest he's ever savored. It was like some form of drug. Astarion’s favorite medicine. Faint whines of his satisfaction adding to the wetness below. You could see his brows knit together in concentration from the corner of your eye. Savoring you. He continued to rub your cunt through your dress while your hips circled to increase the pace that was set. He was too distracted to notice the teasingly slow speed of his fingers. Or maybe not. Perhaps he was deliberately trying to drive you insane. The friction of your panties and dress mixed with his talented digits made your clit throb. Your hand pushed his down, trying to create more traction to satisfy your need. Your hips still managed to gyrate even under his hold, rubbing right up on his erection. You moved faster against him, earning a whine from your vampire's throat. The hard rod pressed to your bum had you yearning for more. He kept moaning. Large pale hands traveled up to the very start of your dress and roughly pulled down, ripping the clothing and bra with it. The initial sound of the rippage filling the room with its sheer force. You shrieked as your tits suddenly jumped out of its confinements. Bouncing from its vicious release. Soft and supple skin, round and pretty nipples. Your outfit is in complete tatters.

“Astarion!” You shouted. Visibly upset. Such a beautiful dress put to waste. You waited months for this dress to be tailored, for its patterns and shimmers to be suited into it. So happy to try it on, so happy the way it hugged your curves when you got your hands on it. You attempted to turn to scold the ever living shit out of him but he held you in place with his strength. “Ugh!” You leered down at the irreversible mess and felt your face grow hot with rage. Then you looked into the mirror at the sight. Your nipples out in the open. How you wished to see him behind you, to see the dark and lustful red eyes looking deep into yours. What's gotten him so wild? Shifting his gaze towards your tits through the mirror, he moaned at the view of you. Quickly moving his palms onto your plump flesh; his big hands dwarfing both mounds. Astarion squeezed and played to his heart's desire and all you did was watch. Pliant skin caving and yielding. You were angry, livid, exasperated but… when was the last time he’s sought you out to touch you so sensually? When was the last time he felt okay with pleasure? You would put your anger aside, albeit begrudgingly, for this rare occasion. You were gonna give him hell afterwards though. Have him pay for the dress AGAIN and some complaining. It felt amazing, having him play, grope, and gently dig his fingers in. Savoring you. Passionately massaging them. You were upset. So upset. But you loved the touch. He was disorganized and chaotic which was so uncommon of him. Eventually, once you’ve calmed, your hands combine with his large ones, joining in on the fun. Then you realized something. The door to the room was open. Your head swirled to its direction and you were able to hear the distant chatter. Terror took a hold of you.

“Star. Stop. They will see.” Your concerns meant nothing to him though even when you pushed. He was too lost in you to even care. A huff was his only response. His fangs soon left you and he raised his head to nip at your ear. The blood from the wound seeped into your pearled necklace.

“I am being serious.” He grabbed your face, the skin indenting in his strong grip, and turned it enough to give you a searing kiss. The smooch was slippery from the gloss and the lipstick stained him, mixing with the blood he took from you. You sighed at the way his lips pressed upon yours. He parted his lips and snaked his tongue in your mouth, drawing an obscene moan as you unhinged your jaw for him. The blend of lipstick, gloss, blood, and the perfume he kissed off was rather tart. You opened your eyes and looked into the mirror. You looked so lewd. Both of you panted into the kiss. His left hand still played with your breast. His right hand grabbed yours and placed it flat against the wood, fingers interlocking. Astarion abandoned your mouth and licked long strides up your neck, cleaning the remaining blood then proceeded to give more pecks to it.

“What is this all about, Star?”

“I simply crave you little love. Is that so bad?”

“You ruined my dress. It was so glamorous…I waited months for this you damned bastard.”

“I’ll have another one made, my treasure.” He did not seem phased by your anger. The glam clothing was being pulled and balled up, enough to show your plush thighs. Wearing stockings and lingerie underneath. You half expected to fuck, just not so early.

“My, my. What’s this all about, dear?” He repeated your question from earlier as nimble fingers ran along the stockings. You blushed deeply at his words. Hands fixed on your butt. Delicately rubbing.

“Astarion, the door. Least close the door.” He pushed your face against the drawer, and raised the rest of your dress, showing your pretty ass. The fabric laid right above your hips. He slapped it hard. Another one came after that with full force. The sting was so intense tears began to form. No, you were not going to cry with how much effort you put into your makeup. He grumbled at your request.

“Not a chance. Where else will I get my warmth from? Karlach? Lae’zel?” He tsked. Red marks adorned your bum now from the manhandling. Blood rushing and heating the stinging flesh.

The warmth radiating onto his icy palms pleased him as it made a nice contrast. “You know, It gets quite cold being undead, darling.” Pouting as he feigned sadness.

“I will still be here once you come back. It's just mere feets away! Plus I'm sure Karlach wouldn't mind sharing her never ending heat.”

“Ah, but that would be no fun. Truthfully, the possible thrill of being caught excites me to no end…and I believe it does the very same to you too, darling.” He said, slipping the panties to the side to expose you. “I can tell just by your heartbeat.” He murmured. You purred when his rough thumb slithered up and down your wet slit. You sway your waist to taunt his desire. Without warning, he soon rooted two digits deep inside to prepare you to fuck hard. The sudden intrusion caused you to bite your lip. He grazed and memorized each ridge of your soggy cunt, especially the spongy part. You grinded in tandem to his fingers but it wasn’t enough.

“Then please, hurry up.” you whimper. He hummed.

“Since you asked nicely.” He caressed the bud halfheartedly. Swiftly he lost interest then pulled his fingers out. You could hear the belt buckle and his pants unfasten.

He slid all the way into your gummy walls with a loud hiss. You felt incredibly full, so stretched out and already worn from his dick. Cunt squeezing and contracting, trying to adjust to the fullness. You were so overwhelmed that it made you dizzy. Your pussy ravenously swallowed his thick dick which was not helping with your lightheadedness. The tip of his cock snuggling your cervix, causing your knees to weaken.Good thing he was holding you up. There was an impossibly deep, deep want inside your walls that set you ablaze. The feeling so intense your legs wobbled more. The desire was gut wrenching, so powerful and desperately needed his cock. He was fully sheathed but it was not enough. You needed him to move, drag and stroke himself along slick walls. Your clit throbbed. Placing your fingers onto the bundle of nerves you spun quick circles that briefly had your eyes roll. You couldn’t wait anymore and began to throw yourself back on him, forcing a garbled moan out of him. Both of you needed to get this over with fast. Cursing yourself for falling into your own desires as easily as he did. All he had to do was close the door but no. He loves risks and this situation made his dick painfully hard for him. What is pleasure without a little pain? You imagined him saying. He observed you like a hawk, watching you fuck yourself. Hearing him gulp then heave faster. His mouth was open, curls misplaced (from his usual hairdo), and brows knitted together again… A deafening laughter came from the halls when you began to panic. You stopped to peer at the cracked open door. He tightly grabbed onto your waist and pressed his thumbs into your back dimples, treating them as thumb holders. The first thrust was hard. You were caught off guard when your body lunged forward, causing objects to fall from the desk you leaned on. The laughing paused. Then the next one was even harder. He barely even started and tears began to sting in your eyes. His hair now falling towards his face, ruining his perfect pomade. Each movement he made, his locks swiftly followed. You felt the way his cock hauled to and fro. He knew how tight and warm you were but it always left him in shambles. Your walls clenched, subduing his bulging veins, and molding his dick on each thrust. He wanted to cum. He wanted to be deeper. He wanted to be one with you. Anxiety was through the roof but, thankfully, the people accompanying the halls continued with their conversation. All your attention was on the door where all the sounds originated from. The pace changed as you tried to listen for any footsteps.

Then all of a sudden he trembled and went stiff. He placed his chest against you for leverage. Lowering his head, listening how each breath was a struggle for him. You could see his wet curls in your peripheral vision. You turned your head to look.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You asked with genuine fear in your heart. Endless questions began to flood in your head. What if he didn’t want it? What if he regretted this decision? What if a bad memory was prompted? Was he disgusted by the thoughts of long ago?

“I’m close.” He choked out, “I need you to come first.” You found yourself relieved that he wasn’t uncomfortable. He was far from it. He withheld his own pleasure though, choosing to serve you before anything else. Being used to lifelong servitude and to pleasing others, it was only natural to him. This was going to change eventually. Astarion was walking on a thin line and quickly losing his balance. It took all his will and power just not to cum deep in your womb. He was right on the edge, so close all he needed was a push. You whined and wiggled your hips.

“Do not move.” He ordered, cock violently twitching inside you and mouth pulled into a snarl.

“Just cum!” You could see his head shake from the corner of your vision, “please!” You lifted your face from the drawer and held onto the wood the best you could. Your hips snapped back into him. He threw his head back and groaned loudly as if it pained him.

“Please, please, please, please!” You continued to beg. He was seconds from bursting just from your pleading. Your manicured nails drove deep marks on the drawer and the mirror began to shake back and forth. Your rapid breath fogged up the reflection in front of you and blocked the view. You kept going faster. Your earrings swayed back and forth with all the movement, along with your long necklace that was repeatedly bumping against your breasts. His whole body weight was on you now, ceasing your thrusts, and he placed himself deep inside. The drawer was back to painfully jabbing at you and it kept you from breathing properly. And whatever air trapped in your lungs was forced out of you when he rammed into you one last time. His cockhead glued to your cervix when he blew his fat load into you. His eyes went wide. Hair completely down. He looked like he was dying and ascending at the same time then damn near screamed.

He leaned back to give your aching bones some rest with a sweaty forehead against your shoulder. He was groaning even past his orgasm. You reached up to caress him.

“My star. I really wanted to go to the ball.” You sigh. He held onto your breasts again and pinched your nipples. “Are you not done?” Your makeup was ruined and so was your dress. You didn’t even get to cum either. But that was okay, as long as he relished in himself for once.

“Not quite. I’m sorry, darling. I’m sure there’s a spare dress.” He lifted his head and applied soft kisses to your cheeks

“Star, I really liked this dress.”

“I am sorry, my treasure.”

“This occasion was important to me.”

“I’m sorry…” It’s not often he would apologize. “Please, one more…” He sounded so weak and shattered. His head against your back just huffing and puffing. He held onto your waist, lovingly running with thick fingers down your exposed skin. Your skin was squishy compared to his rough finger pads. He was still hard and deep within you, his tip still cuddling your cervix. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you felt your clit throb again. Still unsatisfied. Your eyebrows arched upwards at the sensation. He wanted more and so did you. He felt so good just being seated inside you with his cum seeping out of you, most likely staining his pants and traveling down his balls. You could feel the stretch his thick dick provided to your abused walls. The same familiar feeling of want was still coiled up within, you needed release so badly. You wanted him to fuck it out of you. You bit your lip and looked into the mirror. Pretending to see his own reflection standing behind you. The thought of it made you clamp down on him and you both moaned. You turned your head and looked into his cat-like eyes. His broken voice did not match the way he was glaring at you. Seeming possessive.

Astarion pressed your back against his chest and your lips instinctively pressed on his jaw when he did so. When he pulled out, you could feel his cum spill between your thighs. Must’ve been very pent up. He moved his hand up towards the torn dress that was clinging to your hips, and tried to pass it down your legs, but the waist chain kept it from doing so. He ripped the pearled chain, and the beads fell onto the floor with the dress itself. The torn material was a tripping hazard that pooled around your feet. You didn’t even try to express your anger since he wouldn’t have acknowledged it. The only clothing you had on was the lace panties, the stockings, the jewelry, and your high heels. The vampire behind you was still completely clothed. You could still sense his icy coolness even through the layers of his attire. Your slim hand went down to begin playing with your clit.

His arm wrapped around your waist as the other slid his dick back inside you. Your pussy welcomed him hungrily. Your other hand grabbed onto his strong forearm as he began his thrusts. You kissed his jaw and cheeks, staining them a nice red with the remaining pigment you had on your lips. Astarion shut his eyes for a brief moment, cherishing in your care. He felt overwhelmed with love and lust. He had no idea how to express it. You were the best thing that’s happened to him. Finally someone who would put him first. Providing him soft affection and kind words even when he thought he didn’t deserve it. Being treated so kindly angered him in a way. The way you kissed him was so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you. Astarion felt guilty for rutting into you so harshly, but he couldn’t contain what he was feeling. Whatever that feeling was.

He looked down to watch as you played with yourself. Seeing your hand movements down between your breasts. Each thrust had them bounce. Your mascara ran down your flushed cheeks as your lipstick smeared against your chin and nose. Your eyeshadow and liner was smudged as well. It was all a mess and he loved it. He loved this. He loved you. Something so beautiful ravaged by him. Astarion kept going and wouldn’t stop; he couldn't. Not with the way your walls eagerly swallowed him. How it would squeeze down on him everytime he pulled back, asking him not to leave. You were velvety, tight, and wet. Feeling every ridge and every flutter. Felt your legs shake and wobble. He sensed how you would progressively compress on him the closer you got. Barely even able to shove himself fully into you. The tip kept hitting that perfect spot, the spot that had your eyes rolling and he kept striking and beating it devastatingly fast. You stopped kissing him, having a hard time breathing through the vicious motions. You can’t think. Everything was a blur and you felt dizzy. Your pretty nails dug into his forearm without a care in the world. The sound of your hips meeting was far too loud, anyone with ears would be able to listen. You tried your best to stay quiet, but the hits Astarion kept giving was blowing your cover. The slapping was loud, the way the desk rumbled was loud, the way the mirror shook was loud and each time it trembled it would hit the wall. You hoped the music was deafening enough to muffle everything while he was giving you a throrough fuck. Completely surrendering yourself to him. Taking him so well. Your hair was all over your face now, whisps sticking to sweat, to tears, and to gloss. The edge of the drawer was pinching the hand that was between your legs and it hurt, squishing your arm. Astarion began to lean forwards now which made it even worse making your nails dig deeper into his sleeved arm to brace yourself. He was never this rough before. One hand came up and moved your hair out of the way to smooch you.

“Good pet.” He whispered rasply. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. He bended further into you. Not only did the drawer now hurt your arm but it went back to crushing your ribs. You were on your tippy toes from the positioning and positive that your heels were breaking. Your fingers rubbed quick circles on your clit while he plowed through you, which had a sob escape you. You’ve been trying to keep quiet. Despite the other ruckus the both of you have been doing, the last thing you wanted was someone hearing you delighting yourself in such a publicly debauched way. He himself wasn’t holding back though. Anyone would be able to hear him panting. You were doing this to him. It all felt so wrong but it only further encouraged the throbbing in your core. He let a long, pained groan go while baring his teeth. The sharp fangs gleamed in the light as he slowly glided his tongue over them. He was frustrated and wanted this to last longer.

“Gonna cum again?” You tease.

“Yes.” His eyes were wide now as he slammed in. He looked crazed. Like a rabid animal chasing his own high. White silver hair framing his sculpted features. Red orbs peering through the strands. He was actually enjoying himself. Actually enjoying sex without the weight of his past bearing down on him. That realization made you gush. Eyes rolling as you felt his (previous) cum and wetness drip down your ankles.

“Yeah?” You coo.

“Yes.”

“Then do it. Fuck your child into me. Do it. Fuck me.” You said through gritted teeth. You didn’t mean for it to sound like a command and it made your heart drop the second those words left your mouth. You could only hope at the moment that he was okay with it. You were going to apologize until he jerked your hair back and forced your face upwards. Unleashing something primal the second you finished that sentence. He wanted you to bear his child even if it was an impossible feat. Astarion hates kids but the thought drove him mad and he was willing to give you everything you desired. He kept pulling until you were able to look into his red eyes. Towering over you. You could see just how deranged he appeared. Consumed by passion. The insatiable hunger that radiated off his cold body was intoxicating. Your back was impossibly arched now and you felt like you were gonna snap in half. Even more so whenever he bucked his hips. The severe pain on your arm made you abandon your needy clit.

“Yeah? Like that, darling? Huh? Just like that?” You couldn’t say a word. Not one. The ache in your ribs, back, scalp and neck was intolerable but you needed him to cum. To not care about anything else but his own pleasure. You could feel his dick pummeling through your guts and mistreating your cervix. Somehow you were still reaching your high.

“This is what you want? Huh? Yes? No? Tell me.” He spoke but it didn’t mean anything. All words lost their meaning. Astarion was fucking your brains out. The heels broke under his ministrations. He was wrecking everything. Your vision went blurry from the tears, they kept spilling and wouldn’t stop. You were going to cum crying. You were gonna cum just like this.

“So cockdumb you can’t even answer me?” The eye contact was driving you both crazy. The view he had was so fucking hot you wouldn’t believe it. His cum stained balls smacking your clit with each hit. You grounded your cunt against him just to grind your clit against his balls and you rolled your hips for more. Finally your bundle of nerves was getting the attention it deserved. Your mouth was open, spilling silent cries when your eyes moved to the back of your head. No longer able to stare into his blown pupils. He gruffed in anger and grabbed you by the throat instead of your hair.

“Look at me.” He told you as his hand squeezed ruthlessly. You listened. “There you go, my sweet little treat. You’re taking me so well.” Astarion smiled down at you villainously, teeth white and shiny. Silver hair all over the place. Eyes manic. He was fucking mental. Juices flowed down as you came, If his pants were not ruined before, it was ruined now. You came looking deep into his soul, violently trembling and jolting in snapped heels. You needed to scream but couldn't because of the choking. Mouth opened and closed for air. The tear soaked makeup slightly burned when it slipped into your eyes. Veins pulsing the best it could despite the blockade Astarion’s ivory hands gave. Your head was hurting and thumping and your palms laid on what was in front for any form of support. Once again your nails worked itself into the wooden drawer leaving behind more horrible marks in its wake.

Astarion fucked your beaten pussy past your orgasm. Back being all sorts of blown out. Your walls were milking his dick and balls, begging for his seed to flood your womb and hoping to knock you up. It made him grip your throat even tighter. Your Adam’s apple tried bobbing up and down to swallow up any breath you could seek. In his point of view your face was a light scarlet because of the lack of oxygen, with a vein protruding from your forehead. Him mistreating you, and you letting him sent shivers up his spine. He let go once your vision almost faded and blurred, then brutally drove his fangs into your neck. You gasped for air when he unclasped, somewhat because of the sudden pain and mostly because of the choking. Having large amounts of air fill your lungs helped you regain vision. The mirror was no longer foggy and you could get a good view of the situation. You were in tatters. Hair. Makeup. Outfit. Embarrassment creeped in with just how fucked out and shameless you seemed. Is this what you really looked like? Or was the mirror playing tricks? Is this what Astarion has been seeing this whole time? How depraved and disgusting. He loved the view though. Your jewelry, tits, and locks kept moving with the thrusts. But with the aggressive and speedy drinking, your sight would blur up in no time. And with your desperate breathing, the mirror would soon fog up again. The tang in your blood was sweeter than before and his fangs pushed further in to drain you better. Astarion was properly feeding this time and didn’t hold back in greedily sucking you up. Every muscle was sore and you were surely going to pass out. Then the taste of euphoria in your blood made him burst. Abruptly grabbing onto your breast, his yell was muffled since his teeth were still latched. He jerked with each rope of cum he shot into you. The tip probing and nuzzling your spent cervix. You let out a long moan when he started filling you to the brim a second time.

“Fuck. I'm sorry…” Astarion wiped your tears away when he came to his senses. Heavy pants mixing together. Your body was in horrible pain and limp but you felt joy in bringing him pleasure. He nuzzled you while skimming his fingers on the dark bruises kindly. “I’m so sorry darling. I don’t know what possessed me. I’ll make it up to you… what do you want to eat? I’ll bring food to you.” The marks on your neck began to show and he felt intense regret. How could he lose himself like this? How could he treat you this way? To someone he loved and appreciated so vastly? “Please forgive me, my love.” He said, fear in his trembling voice. He fucked up badly.

“Gods…” he whispered. You slumped onto the desk. Astarion was going to be hellbent on compensating you for the harm he had done.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Well, yes, but—“

“Then it’s okay.”

“No. It is not okay. I am truly sorry. Do not try to validate my actions. I am so sorry about the ball, darling.”

“Yeah, you’re an asshole for tearing my dress and for breaking your promise to take me dancing.” You admitted as he embraced you. “But you can make it up to me by buying me a new dress. AND by giving me lots of cuddles. If you’re up for it.” You offer.

“Of course, my treasure, how could I say no?”

[thechaoslibrarian]

Synopsis: [Astarion x Reader/Tav] Wilful, witty, vulnerable and endearing, Astarion blossoms slowly under the ever-present sunshine of your love.

CW: Explicit sexual content, mentions of past trauma.

Banner art: by Steven Nederveen

Dividers: @aquazero

" ... time and again

No fire where I lit my spark

I am not afraid of the dark

Where your words devour my heart ... "

~ lyrics from Distant Sun (by Crowded House)

His scent infiltrates your dreams, the dry floral notes and the rusty tang of old blood, the unique underlying essence that never fails to bring his face to the forefront of your mind.

When he falls asleep, back pressed to yours, it is merely a prelude to how you wake the following morning, with his head tucked into the crook of your neck, or pillowed between your breasts, the soft white curls grazing your cheek as you keep your breathing light and even, so as not to interrupt his slumber. You know the gentle scent of his scalp better than anyone has a right to.

There is something that goes far beyond the pleasures of the flesh when you are together like this; two easily doused candle-flames that reach for each other, flickering, across the distance of bleak memory, pain and loss.

Such a tenuous connection, so easily fractured. Yet, even through all the trials you've faced thus far, losing him had somehow transformed into an idea you simply would not countenance.

The land might burn, your enemies might dance on the ashes of the people you had failed, but Astarion's fingers winding uncertainly through yours would be the only sensation you wanted to experience at the end of the world.

You thought about it now, as rain pattered on the roof of your tent, the inside dry and warm from the heat of the enchanted lamp. He had joined you a short while earlier, wordlessly, as was his habit. To give voice to the immensity of what he had to overcome, every single time he entered your tent of his own free will, would be more than he was capable of fully processing at this time.

He lay beside you now, with his chin propped against the top of your head.

He was awake.

"Astarion?"

"Darling."

"What kind of weather do you like best?"

He was silent for a while. You lay still, relaxed. When you were together like this, pauses in conversation could sometimes stretch out for ages, because time ceased to place its shackles on either of you. Even the most mundane topic was up for discussion. Words filled space with comfort. Stolen time was sacred time.

"Hmm. Weather like this, I suppose. It makes being inside feel ... somewhat better."

"You certainly weren't born for the outdoors."

He raised his fingernails for you to inspect.

"Absolutely not! Look at these beauties. Imagine if they became stained with grass, or earth, or worse still ... chipped."

"That would be grievous indeed," you concurred with hushed solemnity.

A low rumble of amusement made its way up through his throat.

"What about you, my dove? If I could guess - "

"Cooler weather. Maybe breezy."

His touch skims, feather-light, up your arm. In times past, such an action would have been a clear provocation, an invitation to something more intimate. You acknowledge it in your mind, absorb it, like a plant takes in sunlight. Astarion is your sun, small and fitful, burning you down to the bone when you least expect it, fighting for his place in your universe.

You reach out, fingertips brushing his. He pauses, allowing your hands to connect, palm to palm. His fingers are longer than yours, strong, clever. You've seen him take apart complex locking mechanisms with such ease, the same ease with which he'd unraveled your body the first time you'd been together.

"Where did you learn to pick locks?"

He lowered his hand and lay back, staring at the roof of the tent. You splayed out at his side, two children watching the imagined turn of the heavens.

"I ... think I learned it from a criminal. One I represented in a case, long ago. He was talkative. Couldn't shut him up, really. Told me how he had cracked a simple safe. I followed his instructions on a similar safe, as a demonstration."

"And you succeeded?"

You could almost sense the curve of his mouth.

"On the first try. He was so proud. Ha. Called me a natural."

You turned your head, smiling slightly. He looked self-satisfied, in that manner of a cat that gets into the choice cream.

Gods, he was lovely to look at, here in your tent, with you. Your gaze traces the impossibly artful tangle of pale curls, the elegant bridge of his nose, the sharp corners of his scarlet eyes and the movement of his perfectly curved lips.

He cocked an eyebrow, expression growing predatory, knowing.

"Darling, you're staring."

You laughed.

"Do you blame me?"

"Honestly? No."

He propped himself on an elbow, playfully prodding at your face until you're forced to swat at him. He sobered suddenly, hands falling away. You suspect you know what he's about to ask. It's never far away from his thoughts, after all.

"Is this enough for you? Just talking? Just falling asleep together?"

You also know by now that words aren't adequate to allay his fears. Turning over on your side, you face him, fingers tracing softly over the profile you'd admired a few moments ago. You smooth out the worry lines on his forehead, the skin cool and smooth as marble beneath your touch.

"This is more then enough. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because these are the things I've always wanted."

Your index finger trails down to the tip of his nose, where you decide a kiss needs to be placed. He leans forward, unknowingly.

"You wanted ... this? How we are now?"

"Yes. A lover is nice and all, Astarion, but I've always wanted a partner. Someone to laugh with. Someone to grouse to. Someone to sit with their back to mine in the cold and share my bread with me. Someone to whisper to when the darkness grows closer."

He is silent for a bit, hesitating. You pass your thumbs across the high cheekbones, watching as he falls slowly into the comforting familiarity of the contact. When he speaks, something bitter catches in his throat.

"But I'm not ... capable of some of those things, you know. I can't keep you warm with my body. I can't laugh like others do. I can't eat with you, nor can I claim that darkness hasn't found a permanent home inside me."

You stroke across the corners of his mouth, avoiding his lips and then track upwards once again, along the delicate point of his ears, into the feathery silk of his hair.

"That's all right."

"It is?"

"It is, because I say so. Astarion, very few people actually end up inhabiting the castles they build in the air. Sometimes, they find a real home. A home that's so much better. A place they belong."

His voice has now sunk to a whisper.

"Am I ... that to you?"

"Yes."

He is silent, and you don't press him. Sometimes, it is better to inform him of the way you feel and to give him time to mull it over. He shifts, restless, before planting a sudden, rather solid kiss on your lips.

There is no artifice behind it, no coy seduction. It is surprisingly factual, a statement of feeling, of earnest intent.

"I'll have you know," he states seriously, "that I won't have you comparing me to some homely log cabin. Oh no. I'm nothing short of a stately, luxurious home, built on the side of a sharp precipice, overlooking the most glorious snd treacherous sea."

"That's a rather precarious position to be in, don't you think?"

He sits up on his haunches, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes now animated and captivating.

"But that's half the fun! Will a terrible tempest come along and sweep us away? Will a sea monster rise up from the depths and capture us in its jaws?"

His feral grin is now infectious. You straighten and face him.

"You're only thinking in terms of disasters! That's poor planning. What about the subtle magics of the air that work directly against rock over time? Erosion is as dangerous as any sea monster, you know. Just a tad less showy."

"And what, darling, do you suggest we do about this mortal peril we find ourselves in?"

"We do exactly as we've done so far. We hammer the walls furiously into place, then drink wine and dance and stamp our feet to see how the repairs hold up."

He throws back his head and lets out a laugh, warm, heady, the kind that roughens around the edges and brims with the wicked delight that you know has kept him alive, for all of this time. Unable to help yourself, you place a gentle kiss to the curve of his throat, moving away again, until he grasps your chin firmly and tugs you back.

His mouth is a stark contrast to the way his fingers sink almost desperately into your cheeks, a gentle mapping out of teeth, tongue, sealed with the exquisite drag of his fangs across your lip.

Forehead pressed to yours, he breathes out the words, as if they've been chained in the heavy confines of his chest.

"I want to ... I want ... you. I want ... this."

He has said the words before, under different circumstances. You know what he is referring to. Gently, you push him back. The dim light turns the red of his gaze to the flesh of a pomegranate, tempting, yielding, so easily crushed between your fingers.

"Astarion ... you don't have to - "

"I know. I know you'll wait for me for God knows how long, and I don't know why, because I - "

He bites his lip, but changes tack.

"The reasons ... are important. I know that better than anyone. But I don't want to think. I want to feel. I want to be able to just do this without - "

Worldssly, you draw him towards you, cradling his head against your chest, a return to the familiar. It's the only message that's ever mattered, at least, to you. That he always has a place, whether in your open arms, or across the breadth of the world, or in another realm altogether.

He'll occupy a space that can be filled by no other, with his easy charm, his bruised smile, the bitter twist of his spirit and every sharp edge that slices you open and infiltrates the furthest corners of your heart, nesting there as if the scars that form around them are the most cherished haven.

"What do you want, Astarion?"

"To feel you."

He speaks into the hush of your tent, his breathing laboured. If you had been anyone else, you might have mistaken it for sheer arousal, nothing more. You know better.

He is nervous. He is letting you see it.

You place your hands on his shoulders and he lowers himself, propped on his palms on either side of you. You consider him, warmth and sorrow blooming simultaneously in your chest.

"You'll tell me? If anything I do makes you feel ... "

"Yes, my love. I'll ... yes. Right away."

"Stay still. Keep your eyes on me," is the soft command you give him.

You undo the laces on his shirt, sliding it from him. His skin gleams with otherworldly pallor, and the knowledge of what had been carved into his back filters into your mind. You cannot make him forget, but you can remind him that touch can be tender too.

Such is the way you handle him, as the shirt is pulled away from his torso fully, the ridged planes of his lean abdomen fluttering slightly under your fingers. He is hyper-sensitive to the sensations you bring, a temporary spike in his breathing.

This is nothing like your previous encounter, when he had confidently displayed himself, instructing you on how to please him. You watch the lift of dense, dark lashes, the hesitancy in his glance, the way he raises his head and arches his neck to gift you the same vulnerability always granted to him when you let him feed.

You keep your palms flat against him, grounding him, as you run them over throat, delicately trace collarbones, stroke down over the curve of his pectorals, down, down, until you stop right above the buckle of his belt before repeating the process.

His breathing evens. He leans down to capture your lips, a little more steady and with more of his old flair. He nips lightly down on your chin, playful.

You don't want him to inhabit the persona he'd worn for so long as some kind of defense, and this definitely feels different. As fraught with nerves as he was, he is regaining some of the self he only showed when you were safely ensconced away from the world.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and he lets out an involuntary groan, low and wanton, a sound that spikes jagged heat all the way down the front of your body.

Before you have time to register his actions, Astarion lowers himself, pressing you into the bedroll. There is no art to the way he rolls his hips against yours, no finesse to the way he clumsily mouths your neck, eager, warm.

"Astar - ahhh - slow down, you - "

"Can't, my sweet - oh yes - I feel - want you so much. I - "

He tugs down your trousers, dragging your underwear away with it. As much as this seems far more organic that anything he's done before, the heated throb of arousal doesn't distract you from the fact that he is rushing things, perhaps in a frantic bid to prove that he can do this.

You clamp your thighs together, temporarily denying him access and he sits back on his haunches, panting. The raw hunger with which he regards you makes you as slick as melting ice. You have both gone so long without sex, something you were more than happy to accept. You know all too well, however, the cost of succumbing to pure lust when there was something far more significant at play.

"I know what you want - "

"Then let me have it. I'm no fragile bloom, my sweet - "

"Astarion."

You stifle a smile as he huffs and folds his arms.  

"Fine. I'm listening. But don't delay. I need you."

The ache in his voice almost has your legs falling apart again, but you hold firm.

"Can you take everything off?"

In reply, he stands and unbuckles his belt, but then pauses and shoots you a mischievous look.

You know that look. Your mouth twitches.

"What are you up to?"

"Giving you a show, that's all."

"Oh Gods, is now really the time for - "

"Well, since you're being so stiff, let Hortensius help you along."

"Please, not Hortensius."

"But darling, he's already here. Now, be nice."

He sucks in his cheeks, in the manner of one of the high end fashion models of the Upper City and wags his hips from side to side, lips projecting in an exaggerated pout as the pants slide from his hips. Your smile turns to a helpless quiver of suppressed merriment as he kicks the offending article away and then grasps his rigid member, advancing on you without ever losing the expression.

"My name is Hortensius Dickanthropus and you, my dear, are about to be subject to a most thorough porking."

You lower your voice, soft and breathy.

"Oh my, Hortensius, I don't know how my poor little flower will take all of that."

Astarion drops to a predatory crouch, crawling over to you. His grin is wide, canines toothily on display.

"Ah, my blushing maid, don't be shy! I may have a horse's cock, but I'm going to be as delicate as a pixie."

You cover your breasts in false modesty as he slides down alongside you.

"A pixie? I saw a pixie in my bushes last week. They're so ... naughty. And fast. Are you going to piston me into the middle of next week, Hortensius?"

"With pleasure. I'm going to piston you like the Steel Watch itself is between your legs - "

Your composure gives way and you slap at his shoulder.

"Not the fucking Steel Watch, for God's sake - "

"Why?" His fingers dance over your hips. "Maybe create another little Foundry down here - "

You're now shaking with laughter and Astarion watches you, the cheeky smirk slipping by inches, eyes kindling with an infinite warmth and adoration that only you are party to. You realise, as your mirth fades, that you had been carrying a great deal of tension too, and that he'd effectively dragged it away from you, deconstructing the last barrier; your fear of hurting him.

In spite of your earlier fervour, you clasp his cheeks between your palms and press his forehead to yours, staying like that for a while. He does not object, nose nudging sweetly against yours.

"Astarion, I want to try something."

"Go ahead."

In truth, you'd learned this minor illusion from Gale, whose knowing smile had almost had you running for the hills when you'd first asked him to teach it to you.

Fingers extending upward, you closed your eyes and focused on the Weave, drawing it closer to you, shaping with precision. Astarion exclaimed softly and you dropped your hand, ready to behold your work.

A fall of many-hued petals, delicate as snow, drifted down from the roof of the tent, each disappearing as they settled on the bedroll and your reclining forms. A pleasant scent, earthy and reminiscent of a forest clearing in the springtime, permeated the air. Soft golden motes danced between you, each emitting a delicate luminosity.

Astarion was watching the display with amused delight, allowing you to catch him off guard. Tipping him over onto his back, you took in the sight of him, fully nude, satiny skin and curls dusted in the remnants of illusory wildflowers, indigo, variegated red and yellow, rich royal purple and the dusky blush of dawn.

"You're so lovely. And free."

You banish petals with your caress, all the way down to the perfectly carved valley of his pelvis.

"I want the world to stand still when I look at you because there's no room for anything else in my mind."

He stops you with a finger to the lips, rising so that you're both lying on your sides, facing each other. He wears his composure well, through long habit, but there is something wild and desperately cast in his eyes.

"And I'm free because of you. Don't you forget it."

This time, nothing interrupts the slide of his skin on yours, the crushing, breathless intimacy that knows no bounds. There is no artifice here, no subtle trick or sly gleam of eyes watching you beneath hooded lids.

Astarion keeps your faces close together, watching every contortion of your features, drinking you in and opening himself to you entirely. He raises your leg onto his hip, still facing you as his fingers slip down, down, between your bodies.

You gasp as he strokes over your folds, his mouth coming down on your throat. His fangs sink in, only breaking the surface, right at the moment his fingers breach you. Crying out, you cling to him, drawing answering moans as he rocks against you.

His lips brush yours, un-coordinated, wet against the sides of your mouth. You taste the slight metallic tinge of your own blood, lost in heady ecstasy as the heat of his exhalation mingles with yours, rough and uneven. He nudges you when your head tilts back, keeping your eyes on him.

His fingers are now coated with the dewiness of your arousal, and he drags them up between you again, surprising you with just how wet he has made you in such a short time. You watch, breath hitching, as he slides them over his own hardened flesh, tracing pearly fluid down from the tip, coating himself.

You turn to lie on your back, but firm fingers grasp your hip, holding you in place. He tugs your leg further up on his waist, earning a soft gasp. You're more accessible to him like this, more vulnerable.

"Darling, I can't wait any - "

"Astarion, please."

Your soft plea triggers an almost animalistic movement from him, as he grinds upwards, pushing against your entrance. You're almost sobbing now, clutching at him, begging him. At his mercy, you bite your lip hard when he works himself in, sliding into the tight grasp of your heat.

He is trembling, you realise, ecstasy and agony in equal measure, chasing each other across his face as he pushes deeper, burying himself within you, staying with you. Even with the intensity of what you're both feeling, he keeps you in place, the hand that had stroked you now holding your thigh over him.

He begins a measured pace that quickly devolved to one of instinct, slowing down so that you clench around him, speeding up until your back arches, swallowing your disjointed whispers as he watches you come undone, and in doing so, comes apart himself.

In this golden time, you understand that you have never been more completely aware of another, of the muscle that ripples under alabaster skin, of the rapidly cooling sweat on his chest, of the way his scent winds around you, the way his body moves against and inside yours. He has taken your blood into himself, so many times, consumed you in so many different ways, and yet, this was wholly new.

Astarion isn't teasing you endlessly. He isn't bringing you to the brink, and releasing you, which is his specialty, as you're fully aware. He's throwing himself headlong into the passion of a true union, every thrust bringing you both closer to the dazzling precipice.

He is reckless in his lovemaking, somehow striking that balance between base urgency and shattering tenderness. You can see the building euphoria when your eyes meet his, the knowledge that this moment belongs to both of you, untainted, spun out in indestructible threads that bind you to each other.

You are close. You let him know, through the pale crescents your nails leave on his shoulder and side, through the way your voice rises, the way your hardened nipples push into him as your whole body stiffens and prepares for mind-numbing, white-hot pleasure, the way you take his fingers into your mouth with hedonistic abandon.

He drinks it all in, tracking every movement, every glimmering bead of sweat, every minute crease between your brows. Fighting back years of conditioning, he holds you impossibly closer, your body a shield against the memory of every meaningless, sordid encounter.

Your eyes drag open, tears glistening where they have gathered at the corners, slipping down across the bridge of your nose, bringing the sight of his face to sudden clarity.

You let him see it, all of it; the moment your climax crashes like a wave over every sense, that most secret of faces. You let him see that he is the only one who can bring you to this place, this endless horizon that curves across your vision like a shard of jacinth.

Astarion is now gasping endearments. They fall from his lips in a litany, one declaration melding into another. You hold onto him as your own mind slowly clears, senses thrumming with the aftermath of the pleasure he has brought you.

He is close.

You surrender complete control to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hips lift from the bedroll in fitful abandon, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

"My ... my sweet, I'm - ah - you're so - don't know what you - "

At any other time, seeing Astarion, with his mastery of seductive words that bordered on legendary, in this barely coherent state, would have been cause for wonder indeed. As with all else, however, you took things as they were, treasured them.

Here, with you, he didn't have to be that. Here, he needed no flowery phrases and practiced gestures. Here, he was yours, in wiry strength and hidden fragility, in biting humour and those rare moments of stark realism, when he did his best to protect you from a world who's cruelty he had experienced all too many times.

When he finally reaches his peak, lips drawn  back from teeth, brow furrowed in supreme pleasure, tendons standing out on his neck as a series of guttural sounds escape him, you smooth your hands up and down his back, bringing him slowly back to you.

You press soft kisses across his nose, along his jawline, his body giving one last shudder as your lips ghost over his ear and you nuzzle into his hair. Slowly regaining focus, his gaze fixes on your face, a slow, radiant smile gathering, a stray ray of sunshine burning through overcast skies.

Something bubbles up in his chest, overflows into the almost non-existent space between your bodies. A peal of laughter, so bright, so free of pain, lancing through you like the keen point of an arrow, the barbs lodging somewhere deep in your chest.

You could listen to him laugh like this forever.

He finally releases you, rolling over onto his back, that same giddy smile refusing to diminish. One of his arms extends, drawing you close so that your head now rests on his chest, your shoulders encased in the solid curve of his arm.

"My love, my light, that was - "

His chest heaves again, and his head moves from side to side in cheerful disbelief. You can't help the grin that breaks across your own countenance.

"Careful, Astarion. You sound happier than the first time you drank from me."

"But this is better! This is - "

His enthusiasm cuts off, faster than words escape him. Something chokes him, holds the rest of sentence prisoner until he takes a heavy breath, releases it. The catch in his voice adds strength to your grip on him.

"This is perfect. This is ... everything I want it to be."

You remain silent, not trusting your own voice now. When he speaks again, it is so soft that you almost miss the words.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. Never for this."

Later, as the outside intrudes once again into the sanctity of your tent, when the rustle of the wind in the trees, the crack of new firewood given up to the hungry flames of the campfire and the distant song of nocturnal birds echoes back to you, you place your hand over where his heart should beat.

It had been somewhat disconcerting, the first time you'd felt the lack of that steady rhythm beneath your fingertips. Now, however, you felt something entirely different.

This was no empty void, no echoing palace of yesterday's torment. Astarion had come so much further than that. He was here, beside you, of his own free will. There was no such thing as true emptiness, not in a life as rich as this one, that of a man who had given up so much to walk, just once more, in the sun.

No. This space where vitality should make itself known was threaded through with so many scars, but from that barren landscape, verdant new growth came, tended carefully. You could see how it stole over him, and you, in every shared touch, every wound bandaged, every battle fought side by side, every new delight you found in each other.

It came like a thief, robed in night, and laughed as it took the title of queen, enthroning itself in your hearts. It had taken up the sceptre, usurped your earthly kingdom and banished all notion of loneliness.

Such was the nature of love, and so it would remain, until that final red sunrise came to claim you both.

@tattoo-of-a-bird Finally got the courage to write this one.

[thechaoslibrarian]

A Real Nightmare Masterlist

Astarion x fem!tav

“I’ve been polite but won’t be caught dead letting a man tell me what I should do in my bed.”

Otherus

Fascination

Choice

Sew

[thechaoslibrarian]

*goes feral*

Enchanted | g.d.

Gale Dekarios x fem!Tav

Please don’t be in love with someone else; please don’t have somebody waiting on you…

One

Two

Three

[thechaoslibrarian]

I know who you are! (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Knowing a lot about serial killer cases can come in handy when the new resident who asked for your number is a little too familiar.

tags: witness protection era!Hotch, hint of a soft!dom personality, children's book author!reader

It’s an itch in your brain that you can’t scratch. You know that you have seen him before, you just don’t know where. A coffee shop? A grocery store? It’s killing you, driving you crazy, but no matter how many nights you spend thinking, you just can’t remember. How could you forget someone like him? There is something about him, that rare smile, those warm brown eyes that you can’t stop thinking about.

Then, as you are watching an FBI press conference about a serial killer on the loose, you suddenly remember. Of course. Your little obsession with serial killer cases comes with a lot of these press conferences and interviews, that’s where you saw him. And his name… What was his name? Determined to find the answer, you begin to investigate, searching for articles and videos on the internet that luckily doesn’t forget. 

And there he is, standing on the steps of a police station, wearing a suit that seems so strange compared to the casual clothes he wears these days. He looks extremely serious, strict, and in all honesty, you can’t blame him. What he did on a daily basis must have been a lot to handle mentally, especially if he had a son to look out for.

The next day you send him a text to find out when he’ll be home, and to your surprise, he replies in a minute, saying he’s there so you can jump in whenever you’re around. It’s been over a week since he asked for your number at his son’s soccer match, but you only texted and talked on the phone so far. Yet, even those were enough to let you learn a lot about him, and you grew to like this man. 

When he opens the door with that stupidly handsome smile of his, you begin to wonder if revealing what you know is a good idea, but deep down you can’t help yourself. “Hey. So… is this you?” you ask with a cute smile, showing him a screenshot on your phone. 

The blood drains from his face, and his suddenly serious expression tells you maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. He grabs your arm—surprisingly gently, so it won’t leave a mark—and pulls you inside, then presses your back against the now closed door. “Where did you find this?” 

“I knew I’ve seen you before, but for days I couldn’t remember where. Then I saw a press conference with an FBI agent about a serial killer on the loose and bam! It came to me as a vision,” you explain calmly. You’re not afraid of him, because even though he definitely looks like someone who could hurt you, you can also tell that he has no intention to do so.

For a long moment he watches you in silence, but then he lets out a sigh and takes a few steps away from you. “Did you tell anyone about this?” he asks quietly, although his voice is laced with worry. 

Without hesitation, you shake your head. You’re not that dumb. “You recently moved here with a fake name… Must have a reason for that. I don’t want to get involved, it has more to do with satisfying my curiosity. Now your reaction confirmed I was right, and the case is closed as far as I’m concerned,” you explain. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” 

He nods, then inhales and exhales slowly, his eyes carefully studying your face. The serious expression is eventually replaced with a much softer look, but he remains silent, as if he was trying to gather the confidence to say what’s on his mind. But it’s weird, he hasn’t struck you as the type of guy who lacks confidence. Quite the opposite, actually.

And then he speaks up. “Stay for dinner,” he says, his voice gentle and a little hesitant, as if it has been a while since he asked anyone out. Or was it that? You must be seeing a little too much into this invitation.

But then you realize what this is all about. “That’s your way of keeping me silent?”

He flashes a boyish smile at you. “Trust me, if I wanted to silence you, that’s not how I would do it,” he points out with a laugh.

“Was it a threat I should be afraid of, or… Never mind.”

“No, no, say it,” he tells you, the request sounding a little like it was an order. “Or what?”

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, because why would you tell him what you were really thinking about? Hell, you feel ashamed for something like this even occurring to you, you won’t make things worse by saying it out loud. Maybe it’s time to leave, maybe this is the moment when you turn down the offer and walk out of the house with your dignity still intact. 

Sadly, when you gulp and move to open the door, he steps closer to you and covers your hand on the doorknob with his to stop you. You must look like a deer in the headlights as you look up at him, frozen from terror because you feel trapped, but it doesn’t bother him, he just raises an eyebrow and waits for your answer in silence. 

With a soft sigh, you try to pull your hand away from his, but he only tightens his grip around it. “It just had a weird edge to it, like the sentence had a kind of rated R meaning,” you explain, speaking so fast you hope he doesn’t understand a single word. 

But he does. And that smug bastard is enjoying every second of your suffering. “Clever girl,” he purrs as he leans closer. “So, dinner. Now that you know who I am, the least you can do is take the time to one, tell me why you remember stuff like those press conferences, and two, give me some proper adult company.” The end of that sentence shocks you, but he sees the look on your face and quickly shakes his head. “Not that kind of adult company. Just a glass of wine and a conversation after Jack goes to bed.” You let out a sigh of relief, but that peaceful moment doesn’t last long. “Unless you want a different kind of adult activity, because…”

“Hey!” you warn him as you playfully slap his arm. “Just so you know, I spend my time writing children’s books, I need a hobby. Serial killer cases and horror movies are good for me.” He gives you a doubtful look, although there’s a teasing smirk on his lips. “What?”

“Be here at six,” he says as he finally lets go of your hand that slides off the doorknob. “And wear something nice for me.” 

For a moment you only stare at him, but then you nod. Damn it, you can’t say no to this face. Anything you want, handsome.

[thechaoslibrarian]

Yep, sobbing

♡ my random thoughts of being with astarion ♡

he loves you more deeply than you could ever fathom, more than anything else in this world—which is both achingly beautiful and profoundly sad...

his loyalty is fierce, beyond what anyone could ever ask for. that special something he feels? It’s only for you. others… not so much

tries desperately to leave his past behind, but the weight of becoming someone he deems worthy of your love is a heavy burden. on one hand, he feels unworthy of you; on the other, the mere thought of you with someone else makes him physically ill. his jealousy simmers just beneath his carefully maintained exterior, slipping out in sharp, biting comments—like after the tiefling party, when he spoke to gale, who was clearly crushing on you (if you know, you know)

there’s a strange solace he finds when you show your vulnerability to him, letting him see that you’re not untainted either. oh, to treat your wounds with care and tenderness!

would peel an orange for you, even if it left his fingers raw and bleeding—that’s just who he is, but only for you. in truth, there’s probably nothing he wouldn’t do for you now that he’s fallen so deeply in love, and honestly, that level of devotion? it’s terrifying

on those random nights when it’s just the two of you, time seems to stand still. he craves your touch more than he admits, your small gestures—holding his hand, brushing his hair—ground him in ways words never could

once or twice, when he thought no one was listening, you caught him softly humming long-forgotten tunes. he doesn’t remember where they’re from, but they’re etched into his heart. when you caught him, he just smirked and brushed it off

your simple acts of kindness towards astarion move him to the core, and more so when he realises there are no string attached to it. what a strange creature you are (he will love you and cherish you forever)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it's more angsty that i intended to! anyway

you can find more of my works about astarion ♡here♡

[thechaoslibrarian]

Gale x Tav

words: 811

rating: G

summary: basically there are too many things about Gale being 'the perfect husband' and having 'the perfect marriage with him', but even the best couples have bad days and fight.

----------------------------------🟣---------------------------------------

It’s been hours. And the two of you still hadn’t talked.

You pull the covers tighter around your body. Surely a pseudo comforting mechanism to make up for the phantom cold you were feeling. It was an emotional chill, not physical. This might be the first night in a long while that you might go to bed alone, and it’s certainly the first night in a while you aren’t going exactly willingly.

You and Gale had a huge fight. You can’t even remember what started it exactly. It was something small. Simple. Yet it seemed neither one of you were willing to get over your mole hill and now there was a chasm between your two mountains.

Playing the fight over in your mind, you were trying to figure out where you went wrong….

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous!” You snap back at Gale. “Ridiculous. Yes. I’m being ridiculous because I asked you to help out in your own house.”

“And I said I would get to it later!” Gale snapped back. He rubbed his temples with his hand across his eyes. “Gods above, would it kill you to have a little patience from time to time??”

“Perhaps. If we had it your way we’d still be on that beach by the nautiloid for how long your ‘laters’ take.”

Your husband glared at you. “Insulting my character. My, what a fine fall we’ve made for decorum in this house.”

“I’m not insulting your character, Gale. But what about you! You just called me ridiculous and that’s not insulting my character?!”

“It’s not insulting your character if it’s true! And you’re being ridiculous!”

It had all gone downhill from there. More insults. More backbiting. You both said things you didn’t mean, like you saying you should have stayed in the Gate if this was how things were going to be and Gale wishing he still had his orb because it seemed the only way to get out of this conversation.

He had taken off not long after that with an “I’m done” and stalked off to some remote, quite corner of the tower to cool off. You hadn’t seen him since.

Now that the fight was over, and night was closing in, you wished you could talk to apologize. But you didn't want to be the one to go to him. You didn't want to 'lose'. Which you knew was toxic and childish, but you couldn't help the way you felt.

So, that never happened and for the first night in a long while that you go to bed alone. Quiet tears on your pillow.

The next morning you wake up. Face puffy. Eyes red. No real sleep to call your own, so you went downstairs to get coffee.

You find Gale already there. His own cup in his hand. Looking equally disheveled and un-well rested. But, and most importantly, another cup across the counter in front of him. It’s steam wafting up from the mug so you knew it was fresh. Cautiously, you move to the counter and take it. “Are we still fighting?”

“Do you want to keep fighting?” Gale asked back. Not trying to instigate the fight again, but gauge your commitment to continue it.

“No. I don’t.” You sip your coffee carefully. Even though you’re fighting, it was still perfect. “Where did you sleep?”

“In my study.” There is an ornate couch in there. Leather. Expensive. More of an art piece than a comfortable piece of furniture. His lack of sleep may just be from trying to sleep on that rather than the tossing & turning you did last night. “I didn’t think you’d want me.”

“You could have come to bed.”

You probably wouldn’t have talked, and it would still be ‘cold’, but it was still his bed too. “I don’t like it when we fight.”

“It’s not my ideal way to spend an evening either, my love.” Though he said it his ‘my love’ doesn’t have the same warmth in it it normally does. “Look…I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You apologize back. “I didn’t mean to….”

“We both said things we didn’t mean.”

The two of you sip your respective coffees. Not really sure where to go from here. Yes, you apologized. The fight was over. But apologies weren’t like the incantations Gale threw around all the time. They weren’t actually magic words to make all the hurt you felt a moment ago go away.

“Do you want a hug?”

He didn't say anything, but Gale sat down his coffee and came around the counter to you. You both wrap your arms around each other, but it’s awkward. Stiff. There is love between you in the hug, but that chasm you built last night was making it harder to each one another. It would fill. You both would mend. But for now it was just going to be a little uncomfortable around the house.

The two of you separate and go back to your coffees. Sticking to safe topics like what you would like for breakfast. Hopefully you couldn’t disagree to harshly on that.

[thechaoslibrarian]

Would you teach me?

“I thought I’d bring you this. It’s not much, but it might… liven the place up a bit,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Your smile widens slightly as you take the book, the leather binding cool and worn beneath your fingers. "Thank you, Gale." You glance at the cover and blink, realizing the writing is unfamiliar. You chuckle awkwardly, holding it up to him. “You know, I may look like a half-elf, but I can’t read Elvish.”

He tilts his head, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes, though his expression remains warm. “Ah… but this one’s in Common.” He watches as your smile slowly fades, your eyes going back down at the cover in a mix of shock and quiet disappointment, a wave of embarrassment slowly settling in. You run your fingers along the cover, your voice soft and dejected as you murmur, “I can’t read it.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he gently sits beside you on the ground, his demeanor tender and without a hint of judgment. “Would you like some help?” he asks, his voice warm and quiet, as though offering a gift rather than a favor.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of your frustration mix with a hint of gratitude as you nod. “Would you teach me? If you don’t mind...”

He gives you a reassuring smile, leaning in close, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Not at all,” he says softly. “Now, let’s start with the basics.” Opening the book to the first page, he traces a finger under the lines, guiding you gently. “See this here? This is ‘A.’”

You can’t help but smile, some of your embarrassment ebbing away. His voice is calm, unhurried, and as he names each letter, he gives you examples, weaving tiny stories from the words. “This is ‘B,’” he says, glancing at you with a soft warmth in his eyes.

With each letter, he leans in a little closer, his voice gentle and patient, guiding you through the shapes and sounds. You follow along, repeating the letters and words softly under your breath, feeling the beginnings of familiarity as you match sounds to symbols.

For a few quiet moments, you sit there, the two of you leaning over the book together, his hand tracing letters and words while yours follows. The fire crackles softly in the background, the world feeling wonderfully small and close.

Eventually, you reach a simple sentence, and you manage to read it aloud, slowly but confidently. Gale’s smile deepens, and he chuckles softly. “Perfect. I told you—you’ve a quick mind.”

You feel a flutter of pride as you glance over at him. “Well, I have a rather patient teacher.”

He laughs gently, his gaze holding yours. “Patience is hardly a chore when the company is as engaging as you.” — The End of All Things on ao3

[thechaoslibrarian]

Enchanted | g.d. | 2

Gale x fem!Tav

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: I told you I wasn’t sorry.

Talk to Me! | Series Masterlist

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place…

“We’ve certainly collected a myriad of companions,” Gale observed as he sat down beside her in camp.

A little over a week ago, Tav had been kind enough to pull him from the wall he had managed to trap himself inside of after the illithid ship had crashed. She was even kinder in allowing him to travel with her, Lae’Zel, Astarion and Shadowheart to find a cure for their tadpole problem. Since then, they had collected the Blade of Frontiers and a devil from Avernus as well and were setting out to locate the druid Halsin in order to help the Emerald Grove.

She seemed ready and willing to collect any and all strays along the way, ensuring that everyone was healed, fed, and given a warm place to rest. Her compassionate nature extended not only to humans but to animals too; she would often pause to tend to wounded creatures found on their journey, whether they were injured birds or owlbear cubs –though that was how they came to have Scratch and the very same owlbear cub she had found outside the goblin camp.

Perhaps that was why Gale was so drawn to her already; she was kind and open in a way that he had never experienced before. Her empathy seemed boundless, radiating from her in moments of danger and transformation alike. Even in the face of peril, she remained steadfast, her gentle demeanor a beacon of hope and comfort to those around her. It was as if she possessed an innate ability to soothe troubled souls and mend broken spirits with just a smile and a touch.

“The more people we have, the more likely we are to be safe from whatever we face in the coming days,” she reminded him, though she did not look up from the violin she had snagged from an abandoned caravan as she tried to re-tune it. She had used it earlier to hit a goblin, and while the instrument still worked, the strings had snapped in the process and she was trying to replace them. “Besides, I can’t imagine leaving any of you to your own devices; you were trapped in a wall. Lae’Zel was in a cage, and Karlach was being hunted by Wyll. I’m afraid if I let you wander, you’ll get yourselves killed.”

The playful conversation starts,

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy…

“Oh ye of little faith,” he chastised, chuckling some as he leaned back. “I am perfectly capable of handling myself –though I cannot attest to any of our other friends.”

Tav simply shrugged in response, looking up at him finally with a soft smile. “I’m sure you are, Gale of Waterdeep. With a title like that, I’m sure you’re a fantastic adventurer and this is just another day in paradise.”

Gale simply shrugged in response, though he couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. They fell into a comfortable silence as she plucked at the strings of her violin, humming a soft tune to make sure the melody sounded alright. His thoughts drifted to his bard –to the note he had given to the little kobold. Had it really only been a few weeks since he left his tower? With everything that had happened, it had felt like months ago that he had sought out his bard and lost his chance.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night,” she finally announced, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. Gale picked up her violin and held it out to her, smiling some. Tav took it, their fingers brushing against one another just briefly, with her own smile. “Goodnight, Gale. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Tav,” he offered, watching her retreating figure as she slipped into her tent. He averted his gaze as she bent over, looking away with a soft blush when he caught himself staring a little longer than he should have. 

“You’re a bit pathetic, you know that?” Astarion suddenly announced, appearing across from Gale as the fire simmered down.

“Excuse me?” 

Astarion sipped the wine in his hand, waving his other dismissively. “Please, it’s been a week since she picked you out of that wall and all you do is pine after like a love sick fool.”

“I do not pine. Besides –I have no time for any sort of romantic inclinations. Not with our unwanted guest in our heads.”

Gale rolled his eyes, shaking his head. What a ridiculous notion, he mused, thinking that he had any interest in beginning a relationship in the middle of all of this chaos. Even if he did find Tav attractive and kind and a lovely conversationalist – qualities that he couldn't deny – he couldn't afford to entertain such thoughts, not when the fate of their lives hung in the balance. 

Perhaps he did have a bit of a lingering crush on the de facto leader –but that meant little when he couldn't help but stray to the missive he had sent to his bard. Hope flickered within him, albeit faintly, as he imagined her response to his attempt at poetry and his thanks to her. His mind drifted to her every night, even if he didn’t see her face. He didn’t need to know what she looked like when he could hear her voice and recall her words.

Tav was lovely, but she wasn’t his bard and if Gale was to hold onto anything, it had to be her. If anything because the likelihood of ever seeing her again was minimal –less hurt for him and Tav.

“Then I don’t suppose you would be upset if I made time for her, then?” Astarion questioned, brow quirked up with the smirk that Gale had learned meant nothing good.

Gale opened his mouth to tell him, no, I would not be upset but you shouldn’t touch her still but the sentence got caught in his throat as the orb in his chest pulsed suddenly, shooting a sharp pain through his body. Astarion lurched back, surprised by Gale’s sudden cry of pain as the wizard doubled over and fell to his knees. Gods, now was not the time for this to happen –not in the middle of camp; not with everyone around. 

“What in the sweet hells is wrong with you?” Astarion demanded as Tav practically tripped out of her tent to hurry back over. Shadowheart, Wyll and Karlach approached as well.

“Gale, are you okay?” Tav asked, touching his shoulder to lay him on his back.

“I just –,” he gasped, closing his eyes for a moment as he reached up and clutched his chest. Her hand covered his, trying to look over his chest for wounds. When she found none, the pain had subsided enough for him to open his eyes and clutch her hand in his. “I suppose it’s time I tell you all that I might have what is…essentially a bomb in my chest.” She pulled back some, though she kept her hand in his as he loosened the wrap of his robe, exposing the mark of the Netherese orb that climbed up his chest and to his throat. “It’s a complicated story –long, tedious, and terribly boring, truthfully –but I need –I have to consume magic in order to prevent it from getting worse.”

“How do you consume magic?” She asked, helping him sit up now. “Like, we enchant food or what?”

He chuckled weakly, shaking his head. “My research determined that I just need magical items that I can siphon the magic from, to hold it over.”

Tav eyed him carefully, her gaze filled with concern. With a gentle yet firm touch, she flattened her hand against his chest, as if trying to soothe the orb nestled within him with just her touch. Gale could feel the warmth of her palm against his skin, a stark contrast to the icy tendrils of darkness coiling within him. 

He appreciated the gesture more than he could probably express. Her presence alone offered a semblance of comfort in the midst of his torment. But despite her efforts, the touch did little to appease the malevolent orb residing inside him. It continued to pulse with an ominous energy, defying all attempts at pacification.

“I think I picked up a helm,” Shadowheart suggested, half jogging back to her tent to go through her things.

“Oh, I picked up a fancy robe –I bet it’s magic,” Karlach offered, following suit.

“I have this.” Tav unclasped a necklace from around her neck –a simple amulet on a chain. The center held an emerald stone and it was encased in fine gold. “It’s definitely magic –it’s the Absolute Confidence Amulet. Nicked it off my old boss before I left Neverwinter a couple years ago.”

“Don’t you need it?” He asked, though he was already reaching for it.

“Not anymore, honestly,” she reassured with a promising smile. “I’m pretty confident in myself without it.”

Gale nodded solemnly, his fingers tightening around the item clutched close to his chest. With a deep breath, he released the magic contained within the amulet, allowing the orb to consume it greedily. As the magical energies dissipated, the necklace crumbled into pieces, scattering at their feet like shards of shattered dreams.

Tav watched the disintegration of the necklace with a bit of resignation. Despite the necessity of the action, there was a sense of loss in witnessing the demise of the once-cherished item. Yet, her smile held a glimmer of hope as she pulled away from him and stood. 

“Let us know if you need more. You shouldn’t keep this from us,” she lightly scolded, helping him up from the ground. “We’re in this together –I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen to you.”

Gale nodded, his gaze softening as he looked down at Tav. For the first time in weeks, the pulsing of the orb within him dulled down. 

As she moved to pull away, a gentle breeze rustling through her hair, Gale's heart skipped a beat. In a moment of impulse, he reached out and caught her hand, holding it tenderly against his chest. She looked up at him in surprise, but didn’t move to pull away –instead her gaze softened as she smiled up at him. 

With a silent understanding passing between them, Gale nodded in response to her request, his eyes locking with hers in a silent exchange of trust and affection. In the fleeting moment, he couldn’t help himself as he covered her hand with his once more.

“Thank you, Tav. Truly.”

“Of course, Gale. 

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you…

*****

“Gale seems to be quite taken with you,” Shadowheart commented a few days later, when she and Tav were collecting firewood for the camp.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tav countered, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

“I can’t tell if you’re blind or just ignoring how he looks at you.”

“I am not ignoring him,” she conceded, sitting on a fallen tree and dropping the wood in her hands. “I just –it’s complicated.”

“What, do you have someone waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate?” Shadowheart sat beside her, kicking her feet out in front of her.

“I mean, maybe.”

“Maybe? What do you mean maybe?”

Tav huffed, flushing a bit as she fished through her pockets and pulled out a folded up piece of parchment. She handed it to the cleric then dropped her hands into her lap as Shadowheart read it over.

“This is incredibly cheesy,” she laughed, handing it back to her.

“It is not,” Tav argued, shaking her head and snatching the note back. “I don’t know who wrote it, but I have spent years singing to practically no one and this stranger wrote me a poem to tell me my singing saved their life –I suppose I’m just holding out hope that I find them one day.”

“And in the meantime, you’re going to ignore someone who very clearly is in love with you –for someone who you may never meet?”  Shadowheart gave her a knowing look, crossing her ankles as she did. “Tav –we don’t have a lot of time with these tadpoles in our heads. While I am not saying you should just bed the wizard for the hells of it…I am saying that you should consider yourself fortunate to have someone that wants to share whatever time we have left with you.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the pragmatic, religious one that tells me to control myself?” 

“Usually I would,” but she shrugged and looked over towards where camp was situated. “But it’s hard to be when it feels like we’re on borrowed time.”

“It also helps to use the sexual tension to your advantage,” Lae’Zel suddenly announced, stepping out of the woods. “You two were taking too long. The wizard was growing concerned. You would do well to act on whatever affections he may hold for you while they last.”

“You’re both incredibly unhelpful and strangely horny,” Tav commented, standing up and gathering the wood in her arms again. “I don’t want to use him for anything —Gale is a good person; he deserves someone who can return his feelings entirely. Not someone who is distracted by a mysterious poet.”

“Tck. Githyanki have no use for poets; we say what we mean without masking it behind pretty words.”

“Thank you for the meaningful contribution to the conversation, Lae’Zel. I’m sure Tav is so happy for your advice.”

“As she should be.”

Tav rolled her eyes at them both, walking away as they began their usual bickering. How could they possibly give her advice when it was clear they had unresolved feelings between the two of them? Ridiculous, the both of them. Besides, she had no desire to give into her feelings for Gale (and she certainly had feelings, she couldn’t deny that). They had tadpoles in their brains and were on a mission to practically save the world. It was easier to pine for a mystery poet who may or may not be there at the end than risk falling in love with someone who not only had a bomb in their chest, but could sprout tentacles at any moment. 

No, she was better off without falling for Gale of Waterdeep. 

*****

By the end of their day, Gale and the rest of the merry band of weirdos were exhausted. They had managed to free the Druid Halsin from the goblins (while slaughtering the whole lot of them), only for him to ask them to help with breaking a curse on the Shadowlands. And Tav —Mystra bless her —had agreed almost immediately, without hesitation. 

Bloodied, battered, and covered in dirt and grime, Gale practically collapsed onto the nearest bedroll close to the campfire. He was first on watch tonight, and while he desperately wanted to sleep, he knew there wouldn’t be a chance in the nine hells anyone would swap with him. Tav laughed at him, nudging him with her foot as she passed by. 

“Go get some sleep, Gale. I’ll keep watch,” she offered, lowering to sit at the edge of the roll. 

“Absolutely not,” he argued, sitting up to glower down at her. “It’s my turn, and you took up post the other night when the orb acted up.”

“And I’m taking up post tonight as well. Go to bed.” Her voice was firm and she was pushing him away now to get him to move. “If I get tired, I’ll wake you. Deal?”

He hesitated a moment before nodding once, standing up finally. “Deal. And do not hesitate. If I so much as hear you yawn, I’ll be out here.”

“Here’s hoping you’re a heavy sleeper then.”

Gale pushed her head gently, rolling his eyes at her. She giggled, ducking out of his reach as he retreated to the privacy of his tent. He wasn’t kidding; if she yawned before he fell asleep, he would make her swap out. It was only fair, and he couldn’t bear the idea of letting her stay up without even a short rest.

However as soon as his head hit the pillow of his own bedroll, Gale had to fight sleep. It was tempting, and usually he wouldn’t be opposed to going straight to sleep —especially when it beckoned so clearly —but he really did want to make sure she didn’t need him. Whether he wanted to admit his feelings for her or not, Gale couldn’t help but worry for her. It was almost instinctual. 

After what felt like hours —though he was certain it was hardly even ten minutes —he began to drift off. Dreams danced in the edge of his mind, words to a song he vaguely recognized from his bard. Then words he knew; his words, softly carrying through the night air. 

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

I wondered till I'm wide awake

Now I'm pacing back and forth, 

wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say

It was enchanting to meet you…

At first, he assumed it was a dream —it wouldn’t be the first time he had dreamt of her sweet voice, echoing his words back to him. Relaxing into the feeling of his bard’s voice, he let it wash over him. Let it pull him into the dream world that he desperately wanted to enter for a little while. It was clearer than ever; her voice was sometimes muffled by the dreamscape but not tonight. 

Please don’t be in love with someone else,

Please don’t have somebody waiting on you…

The addition to his lines confused him, prompting his eyes to open and look around his tent for a moment. Blinking away the new lines —ones he certainly didn’t recognize and had never dreamed of before —he tried to refocus on his bard and her voice once more, listening to her echo his name even if she didn’t know it yet. But the music didn’t return in his head; it was still clear, as if right outside his tent. 

Sitting up, Gale rubbed his eyes in frustration. His exhaustion must be getting to him finally. Truly, he must be hallucinating —

This is me praying that

This was the very first page,

Not where the storyline ends…

“You are absolutely hopeless, Tav, singing that silly little poem,” Shadowheart scolded from outside his tent, though he could hear her retreating to her own. “Goodnight, I hope you dream of your poet.”

Her poet?

Her poet. 

Gale was her poet. 

Tav was his bard. 

“Sweet Hells.”

[thechaoslibrarian]

Day 22: Ripped stockings

Fandom: Baldurs Gate 3

Character: Gale Dekarios

Warnings: praising, teasing, p in v, semi-public sex

A/n: Writing for the best boy on my B-day

Gale was happy to move to Waterdeep with you, you were his fiancé after all though honestly the man was just happy that he can live a normal life with you. No more time bomb, no more Mystra and no more of those nasty little parasites. Just you, him, Tera, Scratch and the Owlbear.

Life was perfect and since life was perfect, Gale couldn’t help but want to take you out for a romantic date.

You deserved it after all.

So here he was, standing by the door. Waiting for you to slip out of the room. You had wanted to surprise him, something about a gift from Shadowheart. Hearing the door creak open, the man straightened his body though his heart nearly stopped and suddenly he was a teenager again.

The skirt you wore was short, far to short for something you used to wear just barley covering your ass and the low neckline of the shirt. To him you looked like a goddess. The dress seemed to shimmer whenever you took a step, you looked like you belonged to be persevered in a panting, the stars but the one thing that drew his eyes the most were the stockings you were.

Tiny little crystal’s woven in the fabric like glittering gold. It seemed it hug your curves in the right places and he was finding it that he was having a little trouble finding it hard to breath.

He felt like you were doing this on purpose, in fact he new you were doing it on purpose judging by that little smirk on your face. “Ready to head out.”

“I.” Doing his best to it stutter out a response the man only nodded as he he grasped your hand giving it a squeeze. “Yes…yes I am ready to leave.”

Pulling him along, you were eager to go you though you also couldn’t wait to see just how far you could push your lover.

Gale felt far to hot, his palms felt far too sweaty and why on earth did you have bend over. Why did your ass have it look so good in those stockings. Gritting his teeth he felt his control slowly slipping. His eyes zooming in on a small tear in the stockings.

“Enough is enough.”

Smoothing out the dress, you titled your head to the side. A small smile forming on your lips, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Hmm?”

Giving a quick look around, Gale was happy to see the people far to absorbed in their own things to notice him. “You’ll find out soon enough my dear.” He grasped your wrist tugging you in a nearby alleyway, his hands on your hips pressing you against the stone wall.

“I’m surprised you lasted this long.” You teased as your fingers ran across the bulge in his pants though a gasp tore through your lips as the lips ripped your stockings. “Gale!”

“Now you look far to appetizing.” He whispered against your neck as his fingers teased your slit until he slowly slipped into your warmth.

Grunting, Gale grasped your hips keeping you pressed to the wall. His face pressed into your neck, teeth grazing the skin. The thrusts were slow, teasing , deliberate.

Your head pressed against the wall, your nails digging into his shoulders as you begged the man to go faster. You did your best of march his thrusts, your legs righting around his waist. Your cries covered by Gales lips, his tongue slowly moving against your own.

He let his hands clutch the fabric of your stockings as he slipped his cock in and out of your pussy. A shudder gliding down his spine feeling your walls clench tightly around his cock.

Biting your lip, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. A smile forming on your lips as you dig your heels into his back. You were going it have to wear stockings around him more often.

[thechaoslibrarian]

Enchanted | g.d. | 3

Gale Dekarios x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Smuuuuut baby (but also plot). Little bit of angst, Gale talking about blowing himself up

Author’s Note: Listen I know this is going a bit fast but I also just. Couldn’t prolong it. I love him too much.

Talk to Me! | Series Masterlist

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home…

Gale had held his realization close to his heart for the time being. He had to, if anything because he simply needed time to process that the Fates had aligned enough to bring him and his bard together. The divine had not been kind to Gale in so long —yet, as it would be, they decided that Tav would be there to save him that day.

Even if he wanted to address it, to reveal how he felt and who he was to her, none of that was able to come to fruition once they saved Halsin. Of course, the Fates decided to be just as cruel as ever when Elminster appeared in the camp shortly after they saved the druid, breaking the news that Mystra wanted Gale to give his life to stop the Absolute.

Tav’s reaction was…well, it was incredibly reassuring, honestly. Heartbreaking, but reassuring. She had ripped Elminster a new one, yelling at the legendary wizard that it was not Mystra’s choice to have Gale off himself in her fucking name. That they would find another way to stop the Absolute that didn’t involve him dying. The tears in her eyes, the rage that radiated off her –Gale realized that even if she didn’t know he wrote that missive to her, she felt strongly for him.

And of course, even after Elminster disappeared from camp, they couldn’t settle down to discuss everything. Almost immediately, they had found themselves thrown into yet another quest –now moving them into an awful, shadow-cursed land that threatened to consume every single one of them whole.

Literally.

The shadows literally threatened to consume them.

As Gale trudged through the shadow-cursed land, his mind buzzed with conflicting emotions. The weight of his unspoken feelings for Tav bore down on him like the darkness that surrounded them. He stole glances at her whenever he could, drinking in her every movement, her every word, with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Amidst the palpable tension, he couldn't shake off the feeling that every step they took brought them closer to an inevitable confrontation, not just with the shadowy threats around them, but with the truths he had kept hidden.

Even with the help of the lantern and Karniss, the guide they had trusted to lead them, the trip felt far more perilous than it should have. Every minute they spent fighting harpers, or beasts, or shadows was another minute that they risked losing their lives. And, more so, he worried with every step and every fight that he would risk losing her again –and more permanently this time. The shadows seemed to whisper his fears back to him, amplifying the relentless doubts that gnawed at his resolve.

But no time seemed to be a good time to pull her aside, to admit to her that he was the one who sent that missive from Waterdeep. There was always someone else with her, and they hadn’t been able to make camp yet or else risk their lives with the shadows. They needed to make it to Last Light Inn in order to make camp, and truly there was no actual path that led to the inn safely. The urgency of their mission, coupled with the ever-looming threat, left little room for the heartfelt confession he yearned to make.

And then, naturally, when they did manage to find themselves at the Inn, they were ambushed. Naturally, they broke out in a fight that almost killed every single one of them. Even if they did manage to save Isobel, and even if they did manage to stop the shadows from consuming all the harpers –they had to fight to the last breath before they had properly rested and Gale thought truly, this might be the end of them. And naturally, they had to go find Ketheric Thorm and stop him now in order to actually stop whatever this curse was in this horrible place. The relentless onslaught of challenges seemed to conspire against any chance for a moment of respite, let alone a moment for personal revelations.

Naturally. Naturally. 

Gale wanted so badly to curse Tav’s incessant need to get herself almost killed in order to save others. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake her and beg the bard to stop, and consider herself for five minutes. Consider how people –how he would feel if she died and they could not save her. Did she have no regard for herself? Did she have no regard for her own safety? 

But he couldn’t. 

Because the very incessant need to help and ensure everyone’s safety was one of the many qualities he admired about her very existence. 

Tav was kind, and loyal, and he was painfully in love with someone who had no idea it was him that wrote that damn note, that she had saved his life long before she was saving the lives of everyone around her. Watching her fight stirred every emotion inside of him –pride, awe, lust –and he couldn’t bottle it all up any longer.

When the fight had finally ended –when the blood was spilled all over the courtyard of the inn and his companions caught their breaths and all but collapsed against one another –he was resolved to give in. Orb be damned, he was going to tell Tav he loved her because he had to if they were going to keep on the way they were.

*****

“Hello! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He is requesting a private conversation with you, if you would oblige.”

Tav stared up at the image of Gale before her. It glowed with an aura that was unmistakably magic, though it was so drastically similar that from a distance, she was certain it was him when she approached.

“Oh, uh –yeah, of course. Where is he?”

The image of the wizard motioned towards a path outside of camp. “Just down the path. If you would like, I will happily guide you.”

She nodded, motioning for it to lead the way. The image moved freely, walking through camp without issue. Shadowheart and Lae’Zel both gave her strange looks, following Gale’s magical counterpart with their eyes as the two passed by. Tav simply shrugged in response and continued on her way, until the path was well out of camp and the image of Gale was replaced by the actual man.

He sat with his legs crossed, hands moving through the air as he manipulated the sky above him to form a night sky and borealis. Tav smiled softly at the sight, slowly sitting down beside him with her knees to her chest. 

“I love this time of night,” he explained as if answering the question she had not asked. “There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, where you’d almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity; the timelessness of lovers; the most beautiful of fantasies.” 

She watched him for a moment before looking back up at the sky. “It’s breathtaking. Is it your doing?”

He nodded once, but she could feel his gaze on her. “The curse is still present, of course. Just veiled and at arm’s length. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight…tonight is different.”

For a moment, they simply watched each other with soft smiles. Sometimes, she wished that he was less captivating or sweet; it made life so much more difficult for her when she was trying to keep feelings for him at bay. But then he went and did things like this –created beauty in a place that was so broken –and Tav found herself further drawn into her feelings for him.

“This may be my last night alive,” he explained, though his voice was soft. “I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty of wonder and with company to match.”

Her brow furrowed as she opened her mouth to argue, to remind him that she would not let him die but he interrupted her.

“I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought…it might make the weight of what I must do to feel a little lighter. But I am not so sure.”

“I refuse to believe that this is the end, Gale. I refuse to let you die for the promise of forgiveness from a goddess who cast you out.”

“Babe or crone, coward or hero…death is assured, Tav. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning?”

“Gale –,”

“I am terrified,” he interrupted once again. “I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words ought to deny it. There is no point in running from the inevitable; Better to meet it, on my own terms.”

“No,” she snapped at him, grabbing his hand in hers. Her heart ached, thinking that Gale had resigned himself to death even before considering the other options. Not that she knew what those options were, but they were better than dying. “Nothing is inevitable. Not when we face it together. You don’t have to die.”

“One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, Tav.” It was as if he wasn’t even hearing her; that he was so certain of his fate that he was just reciting his lines to her. “And I am very happy you came here tonight, to share this with me.  I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you. You must know that you’re…that you’re very special to me.”

Of course she knew. He made it clear, even if he never explicitly said it. Gale cared for her –loved her, even, if she dared assume –and it showed in his actions every day. Perhaps she should have told him to stop sooner; that she wasn’t spoken for but her heart belonged to her poet. But it was hard to walk away from someone so warm, and caring. And after her own heartbreak, having someone who gave her everything he had even when she didn’t deserve it –she knew there was love for him in her own heart now too.

“If things were different, if you were still performing and we were home, I would have done things properly. I would have never written that note, I would have found you before all this. But time is short, and I…I need you to know that I was enchanted to meet you, Tav.”

For a brief moment, everything stopped. 

Gale was watching her expectantly, waiting for her to say something; to respond. But her mind was stuck. I would have never written that note. I was enchanted to meet you…

“You…it was you?” She managed to ask, her voice catching in her throat as she finally looked up at him. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she fished her parchment out of her pocket, unfolding it. “You wrote this?”

He took the note from her, tears pricking his eyes too, as he read it over. He nodded slowly. “I listened to you sing every night for weeks, Tav. You know I trapped myself in my tower –but you don’t know that it was you that made me leave for the first time in a year. That when I left that day, it was to find you and tell you how much your music healed my broken heart. I’m just pleasantly surprised the kobold managed to actually deliver the note.

“You added lines to it the other night,” he continued, reaching up to take her face in his hands. His thumbs wiped away her tears as she leaned into his touch, still crying. “You asked me not to be in love with someone else –to not have someone waiting for me. Tav –I have been waiting for you. And if I’m going to live my last day, I need you to know that I am in love with you.”

Through tear blurred eyes, Tav took in every detail of Gale’s sincerity. The spark in his eyes as he looked down at her, with his own tears that threatened to spill. The adoration that filled his smile as he held her face in his hands still. He loved her; he was her poet, and he loved her, and Tav was going to lose him because of some petty goddess who wanted him to beg for her forgiveness.

Without thinking any harder, she surged forward and kissed him hard. Gale let out a small gasp of surprise, seemingly not expecting her to kiss him, but soon enough he was threading his fingers through her hair to hold her closer. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him as close as she could get him without climbing into his lap –and even then, she was almost there anyway.

But he pulled away too soon, resting his forehead against hers. Tav’s tears hadn’t stopped, though she wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy or fear anymore. 

“I hope that wasn’t a parting kiss,” she murmured, pressing another one against the corner of his mouth gently. 

“Not if I have any say in the matter,” he chuckled, wiping her tears away again. “I want it to be perfect –to bond with you in the way that gods do…intertwining our spirits in visions of the Weave.”

Gale stood, pulling her up with him. She refused to let him go, arms still tightly wound around neck, keeping him close to her. “I don’t need illusions. I want the Gale standing right in front of me.”

“Are you sure?” He seemed surprised, brow furrowing as his fingers reached for her hips, holding her just as tight. “I could conjure up any sight you can imagine; some you probably can’t too. I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning.”

He leaned in closer, his nose bumping against hers. “I could do more than woo you. I could wow you.”

She hesitated a moment, considering what he was offering. “I suppose you could show me, if that’s what you want.”

He squeezed her hips with a bright grin, then pulled away raising his hands in the air. Streaks of the Weave surrounded them momentarily, then they were standing in a room full of books and scrolls, with a piano playing quietly in the background. 

“How about a perfect night in Waterdeep, then?” He asked, reaching for her hand to guide her through what she could only assume was his home. It felt very much like a place that Gale would enjoy. “With the warmth of the fire in the hearth, and the spines of a thousand books greeting us.” He pushed the double doors open, exposing the balcony and the sunlight on the water. 

“I’ve seen this before!” She exclaimed, pushing past him to lean over the edge of the balcony. “I performed right down there, with the circus.” She pointed down to the courtyard below, where a stage had appeared. 

Gale wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head. She leaned back into his embrace, sighing contentedly. “I spent many evenings listening to you from my balcony, Tav. Mesmerized by how well you pulled at my own heartbreak with yours. I couldn’t see you, but I could hear you.

“Some nights, I’d simply sit out here and get lost in the pages of a book while listening to your voice. It haunted my dreams, day and night. I had been so consumed with my self loathing and the orb that I feared stepping foot outside my tower —but your voice brought me light in my darkest days.”

Gale pulled her away from the balcony, beckoning her to the settee where he pulled her into his lap. Tav sighed, burying her face into the crook of his neck as he lifted the book that rested beside him. 

“One of my favorites,” he explained, opening it up to show her. “It follows the first thousand nights of a newlywed king and queen. They make an art out of touch, out of taste –perhaps we should take a page from their book ourselves. What do you say?”

Tav giggled, reaching up to run her nails over his jaw. “I don’t see a bed.”

“The stars will be our bed.”

Her brow furrowed for a moment as she shook her head. “Gale, this is beautiful, and I am wholly impressed by everything you can do –but I want you. The real you. Not some conjuring within the Weave.”

“Tav, I am nothing special in comparison to what I can show you –,”

“You are very special, Gale,” she scolded, pulling herself from his arms. “To me, especially. And I don’t want to experience anything with you that’s not real.”

He nodded, eyes softening as the tower disappeared around them and they returned to the field that they were truly in. “Then we’ll do it your way, my love. Whatever you desire from me, I will give you.”

Though, the devilish grin of his suggested he still had a trick up his sleeve as he waved his hand. She gave him a pointed look but nothing around them changed –except for the appearance of a very extravagant, four poster bed. Tav looked it over before grinning at him.

“For your comfort, of course,” he explained simply, guiding her backwards towards it. “I would be remiss if you had to lay in the dirt to be with me.”

“Perhaps I like laying in the dirt,” she teased, taking his face in her hands to pull him into a kiss. “Perhaps I enjoy getting a bit dirty.”

“You’ll have to prove that to me another night,” Gale countered, pushing her back onto the velvety sheets. For an illusion, it was still much more comfortable than any bedroll she’d lain on. “Tonight, I want you to feel my love for you.”

She fell back onto the bed, hitting the pillows and basking in the plushness that she hadn’t felt in so long. Sitting up on her elbow, she beckoned for him to join her and smiled when he didn’t hesitate to climb over her. 

Like a man starved, Gale pulled her in by her chin and kissed her passionately. This kiss was different from the one they had shared earlier in the night. This kiss was frantic and hungry, with every emotion the two had poured into it. He was kissing her like this was the last time he ever would –though if he had it his way, perhaps it would be. Tav parted her legs, hitching one over his hip to pull him closer to her. There was too much space between them; too many clothes. Her hands drifted down his chest, pulling the laces of his shirt undone as she went, exposing not only the expanse of his chest but the markings of the cursed orb that threatened to take him from her.

Hand dropping from her chin to unlace her bodice and pants, Gale pulled away from the kiss to trail hot, wet kisses down her throat and over her chest as the skin became more exposed to him. She squirmed some, trying to pull his shirt off as her own shirt lay open finally. He chuckled against her skin, his beard tickling at the base of her throat as he pulled back and pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. 

Then he moved to hover over her, hands resting on either side of her body now as he looked over her naked form lovingly. Bare beneath him – she thought she should be shying away from his gaze, but she couldn’t find herself feeling anything less than adored –Tav reached out to ensure they matched each other’s nakedness finally. And when Gale was finally just as bare as she was, her tears threatened to return as she traced the markings on his chest. But he took her hand, flattening it against where his heart beat, and she looked up at him longingly.

“I love you, Gale,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he promised, and she swore he meant it.

His mouth was on hers again with a new found urgency, his pointer and thumb holding her chin as he kissed her hard. His other hand, which was sitting on her hip, had begun to drift down. She shivered from the drag of his fingers over her skin before finally feeling how hard he was against her thigh. With a groan, she pulled her hands from his chest to touch him –to pull some sound from him. 

The sound he made went straight to her core, causing her to clench around nothing, as she slowly stroked him. Gale pulled his mouth from hers to kiss along her jaw, leaving hot, wet kisses along her skin. Her head fell back, allowing him to trail kisses from her jaw down her throat. Then his fingers flicked just barely between her legs, spreading them so he could better access her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, eyes closed as he ghosted his touch over her arousal. Gale kept his hand still, allowing her a moment to get used to his touch there before his fingers circled her clit gently. She keened, back arching off the bed as she chased his touch –her own touch dropping from him as she reacted. He dragged his lips from her throat over her collarbone, then down further until his tongue lapped at one of her pert nipples. Her gasp at the sudden sensation caused her hips to buck, meeting his hand in a gentle grind. The friction of his hand against her most sensitive place was overwhelming for a moment as she pulled at his hair again. Gale’s teeth grazed over her nipple now, nipping at it before he sucked it into his mouth. 

Satisfied with his work on one nipple, he bit down one more time before he switched to the other. His hand drifted down between her legs as he sucked and bit her, and Tav wondered briefly how she would ever do without him again if she lost him. She let out a gasp as he slipped a finger inside her with ease, being pressed into the bed as his teeth grazed over her nipple.

“Oh gods, Gale,” she begged, trying to move against his hand as he eased a second finger inside of her. 

He released her nipple finally, trailing wet, open mouth kisses down her body as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her. Her body writhed beneath him, and she could feel his grin against her skin as he moved further down her body, kissing her stomach and right above her core. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he sped up his fingers.

Then, without warning, his teeth grazed her clit and she gasped, unable to keep herself still as she jolted up. He sped up movement with his fingers, curling them up as he sucked and nipped gently at her clit. Her legs started to tremble as her hands ran through his hair, yanking it by the roots. 

“Fuck, please. I’m gonna cum, please, Gale,” she gasped, bucking her hips up. 

But he pulled his fingers away too soon, and she whined, body shaking. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, trailing his lips from her right thigh, over her clit once more until he reached her left. Then he repeated the process back —before finally, his mouth was on her like she was the last meal he’d ever eat. She cried out, stars spilling behind her eyes as she pulled at his hair again. He pushed his tongue deeper, devouring every inch of her that he could. His hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her even closer to him. 

She started to move her hips to match his movements, pressing against his face to try to get any more possible friction. She was so close, if he just kept going –Tav groaned as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. Her hands had become permanently attached to his hair, pulling as she begged him to keep going, to make her cum. Gale’s fingers returned as he lapped at her clit, pumping in and out at a steady, torturous pace. But then –he stopped. And Tav hissed in frustration.

Pulling his fingers from her –prompting a desperate whine as she fell back against the bed –Gale moved to hover over her once more. She grabbed his chin, slick with her, and pulled him into a heated kiss. He groaned into the kiss, licking into her mouth and allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.

“I need you,” he admitted, pulling from the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. His hips ground into hers, revealing how bad off he was for her. 

“I’m yours, Gale.” She took his hand and pressed it against her heart, holding it there as she bumped her nose with his. Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him in. “Only yours.”

Gale found himself between her legs once more, his aching cock in his hand as he stroked himself. His breathing was hard, ragged as he stared down at her naked body. Tav gazed up at him, empty and longing as he stroked himself at the sight of her.

“I need you to touch me,” she begged, reaching for him once more.

Suddenly, Gale was on his back with her straddling his waist. He was surprised for a moment, caught off guard by her new position. However, even with his hazy, lust blown eyes –the way he looked up at her made her stomach flutter and her heart skip. His hands found her hips, pulling her down against him and she grinded down against his cock, humming at the feeling of his hardness against her sensitive folds. He closed his eyes, catching his breath. She leaned in, kissing along his jaw, as her hand finally grasped his cock and lined it up against her. Gale sucked in a breath, and she could tell he was trying to savor the feeling and not rush it.

But she couldn’t take it slow anymore; she sunk down on him without question, burying him to the hilt inside her core with a deep moan and her hands on his chest to keep her balanced. Gale’s hands held her hips, no doubt bruising her, as he held her close to him. Now he truly wouldn’t let her move, savoring the feeling of her tight warmth around him. Finally, Gale opened his eyes, keeping her still for several moments as if he was trying to memorize the sight of her full of him. She tried moving, but he held her tight, cock buried in her while he basked in how tight she was. 

“Gale,” she moaned, reaching between her legs to drag her fingers over her clit. “Please.”

He flipped them over once more, bringing her leg around his waist. She groaned at the change of angle, but didn’t fight him as he started a steady pace. One hand held her leg against him while the other supported his weight over her, allowing him to kiss her hard as he pulled out. She whined at the loss, but then he was slamming back into her without warning and her whine turned into a cry of pleasure. Gale’s mouth captured her sounds, kissing her again as he set a steady, delicious pace. She moaned into the kiss again, hands reaching up to grasp his shoulders as he picked up speed. 

“Oh, gods, Gale,” she sighed as he trailed kisses down her throat again, taking a moment to rest his head in the crook of her neck. “Sweet hells, I love you —I-I love you so much. I’m so close —please —,”

His hips stuttered as she clenched around him, his grip tightening as his pace became more and more frantic. Tav wasn’t prepared for how hard her orgasm hit her, but when it did, she cried out his name and begged the gods for mercy. It was overwhelming, and wonderful, and every second he was still buried inside her was the only divine intervention she’d ever need. And as the warmth of his own climax filled her, Gale buried his face in the crook of her neck. Catching his breath as he came, her hands tangled in his hair once more, coaxing every last ounce of him into her. She was writhing under him, overstimulated from her own climax as well as his now. But he didn’t want to leave her warmth; he wanted to stay buried in her forever.

Eventually, he did pull out, rolling off of her and onto his back. She didn’t let him stray, however, and hitched her leg over his waist again and laid her head on his chest. Gale’s arms snaked their way around her, holding her close to him as his breathing began to even out. 

And then, she started humming softly, her own eyes closing as Gale trailed his fingers up and down her back.

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you…

[thechaoslibrarian]

Another World (Part I) - Gale x F!Reader. NSFW

Gale x F!Reader | E | 1.5K

CW: sexual content, consent, romantic themes, nudity, emotional intensity.

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

Summary: As you quietly observed Gale during the night, immersed in his own thoughts, you remained unaware of his keen perception. Little did you know that he could sense your desires and emotions, unraveling the unspoken feelings that lingered in the air. What you truly failed to grasp was that he had intricate plans for you, woven into the fabric of the night, waiting for the right moment to reveal them.

Gale was admiring himself with his mirror image, while you admired him from the other side of the camp, dispersing your attention only when Shadowheart's soft voice became stronger.  

"Ah? Yes, yes, I was... Listening" you swallow, sighing as you avert your eyes from Gale, turning your attention to Shadowheart. 

"Your attention is elsewhere, I see. Who knew the wizard would draw that kind of attention to him." Shadowheart analyzes the situation, exchanging glances between you and Gale, who is now walking towards you. "That's my cue, good end of the night little dove."  

You can't help but blush at the comment made, how is it possible that you are so distracted and transparent that she could notice the way you looked at Gale. I mean, and she was able to realize, he... damn it. It is obvious that he noticed. 

"It seems that I scared Shadowheart away with my proximity, I regret interrupting the conversation. My apologies" He's pretty aware of the situation, as a smile forms on his lips, you look away, your eyebrows come together and your lips part in order to utter some words, but nothing comes out. It seems that all the words have disappeared from his mind, except for one. 

"Gale..." before you finish rationalizing a simple sentence, Gale holds your chin with her thumb and forefinger, returning your face to his view, so that your eyes could meet, even though the last thing you wanted right now was to have to face him. At least not with the heat that forms between his legs. 

"I know, my love. I'ts fine." He completes, almost like he knows exactly what you were thinking, your cheeks burn... 'My Love', he usually calls you that, but this time there is a tenderness never glimpsed before.  

"Wine?" You gesture with your glass close to him, your hands slightly shaking, as he gives a sneering, negated smile. 

"I would much ratter to drink something sweeter tonight." One of his hands remains on her cheese, while the other is positioned on her waist, pulling her gently closer. Despite the soft and gentle movement, the nervousness in his body presented itself with such intensity that it was impossible to continue holding that cup, as if his hands begged to touch somewhere else, something softer. And that's exactly what you do, your hand is directed to Gale's, removing it from your chin. 

"W-what do you mean?" You know exactly what he meant, you just want to, you need to hear confirmation. 

"I can do more than just tell you. Let me show you" You are guided by Gale, until you are taken to his tent, no one seems to have noticed as you moved, or at least, that's what you preferred to think. By this time his breathing was more labored, and his hands were still shaking. "You can stay calm, my love. I promise to do nothing more than you wish." 

"I wish you would show me what you were talking about." He smiles, softly. Guiding his hands as if drawing his body, squeezing his waist and moving it far enough away from him so he could bend down. Once he's on his knees, he looks up, that soft smile turns into a smirk, as soon as he pulls down his pants. You think about retreating but your body has been asking for it, begging for this moment since the day you visualized a kiss through the plot. Although at that moment his reaction didn't convey an air of certainty, you most definetly saw sincerity now. 

"Gale... please." Your hands caress his hair, but your eyes never turn anywhere other than those fulls of lust look coming from Gale.  

"As you wish." He says, his hands pull your thighs apart, allowing him to place numerous kisses on the inside of her thigh, before laying her down. He watches you as if you can't be real.  

Gale traces a trail of kisses until he reaches the entrance of your pussy, depositing a tender kiss, you feel your body shiver, impulsively you grab one of your hands to his arm, while the other holds one of the cushions next to the sleeping bag. Gale smiles victoriously, he knew your feelings... or, at least, that you felt some kind of attraction to him, even if it was purely sexual (it is not).  

"Can you tell me  If... If im going too f-" Before he can finish, you press his head against your hip, taking a deep breath when you feel your reaction has made him feel comfortable enough to push his tongue into you, separating your walls. "I-It's not fast... It’s perfect.” your voice comes out like a sigh, Gale had just begun but the effect he has on your body is indescribable. 

With this implicit and explicit permission, Gale starts to make gentle circular movements with his tongue, still at the entrance of your pussy, as he feels that you get wetter and wetter, he decides to go deeper. You feel how his tongue slowly enters you, penetrating like you've never felt before. You squeeze his arm, harder than before, letting out moans and grunts, trying to muffle that sound with your other hand, but Gale stops you, holding your wrist, seems like he has other plans. 

"Please let me hear you... Let me hear your sweet voice appreciate every single thing I’m gonna do with you." You can't deny a request like that, so you simply agree with a murmur, expecting him to understand what you meant, ceasing to control anything you've tried before, just allowing your body to feel everything Gale can provide you. 

Gale returns to what he was doing, as his hand releases your wrist, sliding down your belly until as it reaches your clitoris. He makes circular movements with his thumb, while his mouth continues to devour you. Deeper and deeper, faster and faster, you feel the heat of your body increase.  

"G-gale... Oh Gods... Please". You're practically unable to speak, your voice comes out low, like a whisper, but your moans on the other hand were sounding like songs to Gale's ear. He pulls his mouth away from your intimacy, which makes you hesitant for a moment, but he goes down one of his fingers to your pussy, penetrating it slowly, being able to feel how wet you were for him, how wet you were because of him.  

"You're so wet, I didn't even imagine I had such a influence on... you, in that sense." Gale says as he looks at you, you don't even notice his gaze, with his eyes closed, and hands squeezing any part of Gale's body that is nearby, almost as a plea for him not to stop.  

"In many ways... You do have in so many ways." Your dopamine was high enough that you didn't realize what you had just said. Gale also seems not to have gotten bothered, but it was something for him to think about it later, but for now he is too focused on the mess you are. He puts one more finger in, making your head rise, your eyes looking directly at him. "Kiss me." You practically command, and he obeys, raising his head to you, bringing his lips closer to his. You remain like this, millimeters apart, while his fingers thrust and circle inside you. You can feel like you're almost there.  

Gale kisses the corner of your lips, provocatively. You smile, but your desires were so great that you just pull him to seal the kiss. His tongue runs all over your mouth, and then you feel... something you haven't felt in a long time. His lips are soft, look like subtle magic, and you smile at the thought, pulling him closer to you. He reciprocates, deepening his fingers into you, as his thumb circles your clitoris. 

"Gale... I- I'm..." You murmur between the kiss, feeling your peak arrive. Gale softens the movements, stopping them slowly, until they are actually stopped, when he realizes that you have reached your limit. He smiles, lying next to you, pulling a slightly damp strand of your hair behind your ear.  

"You're quite a mess, uh?" You smile at his comment, stroking Gale's beard region as your breathing returns to normal. 

"That was... incredible." His voice comes out like a whisper, and he places another kiss on your lips, before you lay your head on his chest, he pulls your body softly closer, so that you fit together. 

"You're amazing, my love." Gale places a kiss on your head, stroking your hair. "But next time I want to take you to another place, if I can call the weave that way." That doesn't make much sense to you at first glance, but the excitement in Gale's voice is noticeable... 'It must be something good', you suppose. 

"You can take me wherever you want, as long as I'm with you." The words are uttered so quietly that he can barely hear, while your tired eyes close, you can hear one final thing “I fell for you”, seems like Gale’s voice, but you’re so tired that you believe it all came from your silly mind.

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English is NOT my first language, so I apologize for any mistake, and please feel free to correct me! :) and let me know what you think

[thechaoslibrarian]

Gale x Tav

words: 3089

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav

summary: apparently the only way to get Gale to show some restraint in bed, is to physically restrain him.

tags: heterosexual sex, bondage, overstimulation, hand jobs, oral sex (male receiving), cowgirl, creampie, Gale being his usually overly self sacrificing self to the point of maddening [someone come take care of this boy]

Ao3 - 1000 Night Series

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Gale had told Tav before that his favorite time of night was its darkest hour. When the night stretched on until one might think dawn would never come. A bit of poetry to set the mood, but he had been telling the truth. At the time anyway.

Now, his favorite time of night was when he was in bed with her. Curled up. Ready for sleep. Or on many occasions, like now, curled up together and ready for anything but sleep.

“Gale…” His name falls from her lips and the man in question shivered. The sound was sweeter than any song.

His hand moved from cupping the side of Tav’s face as they kissed. Down to her nude hip to pull her close. They were already naked. Already bare for one another. Ready and open to explore. “Gale…”

He heard his name again, but was too focused on kissing her chin now. Prepared to moved to Tav’s neck and lavish it with kisses the way she liked, while his hand moved to-“Gale!”

The wizard stopped completely and pulled away from his love. That was not a shout of his name he was expecting, nor hoping for. “What is it, my love? Have I done something wrong?”

“No, no. You’re perfect. As usual.” Gale felt a swell of pride in his chest. He did genuinely pride himself on being an excellent lover. His list of conquests may not be long, but they were certainly well satisfied. "It’s just….I want to take care of you tonight."

Gale smiled. A soft, affectionate, longing smile at her beautiful face. Amazed, even now, that someone so wonderful would care so much for him. It would be heresy not to appreciate it. "Don't worry about it darling. Letting me take care of you is taking care of me."

"That's not the same."

"It is to me." Gale told her. "Nothing gives me greater pleasure than watching you receive pleasure from me. To watch you fall apart for me. To know that I am the cause of your desire."

His hand combed through Tav's hair, stopping at her ear to rub the tip of it. He smirked as he watched her almost give in but reset her resolve. Gods, was there anything she did that wasn't sexy to him.

"I appreciate that. But have you not considered that I might feel that way too?"

"Well...." No. He genuinely hadn't. Gale was so used to servicing his lovers. His dalliances at school. Especially Mystra. It never occurred to him that they might want to do the same for him. "What do you want to do?"

"Can you lay here, still, and not touch while I take care of you?"

"Oooh....I don't think I can do that." He doesn't want to deny her, but he wants to be honest. Gale loved touching her. Anywhere. Everywhere. Being a wizard of caliber, he loved to explore, and his hands were his greatest tool. "I think it might be a challenge I lack the fortitude for."

"What if I helped?"

Gale arched a brow. "Helped how?"

Tav touched his bare chest. Hand splayed over his heart and where his now dormant orb blight rested. "Do you trust me?"

With his life. But, at this particular moment? "....yes...?"

The hand on his chest lifted and her fingers snapped near his face. There was a sudden flash of movement. Too fast for Gale to catch fully, or comprehend, as he was forcibly pulled down to the bed by his arms and legs. When his brain caught up to everything, he realized he was spread eagle against the sheets. "Too much?"

The wizard looked up at the ropes around his wrists and twitched his ankles to feel the ones there too. With Tav in the way he couldn't see them, but they were certainly there. "It's...certainly interesting...."

Gale felt his face go hot. He had never done this before. Before Tav the most adventurous thing Gale did during sex was make love with the lights on. Not including the noncorporeal things he did with Mystra. It was an odd contrast, he thought. One lover wanting him to be completely unbound, while the other wanting him to be literally bound. Gale couldn't decide which one he liked more. But he wasn’t against this.

"If you don't like it, just let me know and I can get you out of it."

"I will. Although if I wanted out of this I can always just...." Gale trailed off. As he was trying to remember their flourish and replicate the trick, he realized his magic was waning. He couldn't think of a reason why. Then he caught the barest scent of florals. "Oh ho ho....clever girl...." Sussar flower oil. His bonds were covered in it. He hadn’t noticed before since the processing required to make the oil waned the effects of the flower but did not eliminate it. And given that he had the dexterity of a drunken badger when it came to anything other than magic, he was well and truly stuck.

"Just tell me if you don't like it, ok?"

The bed shifted as Tav moved over him. Her legs straddling his waist. Stomach just pressing against his as she hoovered over him. Her lips just inches away from his as he locked eyes with his gorgeous lover's face. He could kiss her. If he only tilted his head up a little, but he didn't dare.

"Do you still trust me?"

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate this time.

He realizes that he's utterly helpless now. Between the sussar flower essence and the binds, Gale couldn't get up if he tried. But he doesn't want to try. Being helpless, at her mercy, to let her do whatever she wanted with him makes him almost lightheaded with lust. Because Tav has told him what she wants to do with him: 'take care of him'. All he has to do, all he can do now, is lay back and take it.

Tav smiled at him and gave him the kiss he had been desperate for. It was soft, slow, gentle. Gale gets the first bite of his binds in his wrists when he tries to wrap his arms around Tav. Unable to make it even the first few seconds without trying to touch her. Gale groaned. The tenderness of their kiss and firm hold of his ropes is a thrilling duality. One that goes straight to his cock.

While still kissing him in that slow, lazy fashion, Tav’s hand slithered between them to wrap around his erection. Gale gasped against their kiss. His mouth opening wider to let Tav’s tongue explore deeper into his mouth. Gods they had only just started, and he was already a goner.

Her delicate hand, slim & small compared to the power they wielded, stroked his cock in a slow manner similar to their kiss. The movement was not pristine as it was trapped between their bodies, but still had more than the desired effect as he firmed up quickly.

When Tav pulled away from him, Gale followed. Daring to lift his head this time. Bewitched by his love to follow after them. For more. But he can’t get to her. There is a myth, one that he can only half recall with what little of his intellectual mind was left, of a man tormented by the Gods to be just out of reach of sustenance for eternity. Gale pitied that man, now more than ever. Though it was not food or drink that would sustain him. It was Tav. And if he just reached a little further, he could be sated again.

It was hopeless though as she was much further out of reach than his neck or bonds would allow, rolling off him to his side. Gale groaned in frustration as he lost what little persistent touch he was allowed. He craned his neck as far as it would go to the side. Getting only the barest touch of lips against her jaw for his efforts. His tongue darting out much like a lizard to taste her skin. To get something.

When his attentions weren’t acknowledged Gale turned his gaze to where Tav was looking and whimpered pathetically at the sight of his cock being laced in her perfect hand. “Gods….” His head tipped back for a moment. Eyes shut. His world a spark of sensation now that he couldn’t see and couldn’t move. His arms pull at the binds. Not to break free but just to tense, and he moaned at the reminder that he couldn’t do anything but lay there and feel.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes!” Gale’s vast vocabulary had been decimated to just simple words. “So good…”

“Good. You’re always so good to me. I want to be good to you too.”

“You are.” His eyes open to look at Tav with such devotion. Gale has looked upon actual gods, yet none of them compared to her in this moment. Her hand gently squeezed the tip of him and Gale moaned before looking down himself at her hand. Transfixed in watching his member slide in & out of her grasp. Precum already starting to dribble out with each pull to make it easier. “So good…”

“I love you Gale.” Tav leaned down to kiss his temple and Gale couldn’t help himself but snap over and try to catch her lips. He succeeds. And with the way he moaned you might as well have thought he came right there. He kissed her desperately. Hungry. Just a mess of clashing teeth and tongue, because he doesn’t know how long he’ll have before she takes it away again.

It's not long enough, as she slips free from his possessive lip-lock with her own panting. Gale actually gets his shoulders off the bed to chase after her this time. He might have even growled. But he couldn’t reach her and flopped back against the bed in defeat, with a very deep frown between his brows.

He hated this.

He loved this.

He couldn’t decide what he was feeling, but then Tav’s lips were on his chest and that was all that mattered again. Not feelings, just feeling.

Gale was able to sneak one more needy kiss into her hair as she moved down. His beard nuzzling over the fine hairs of her crown. The scent of her soap. He didn’t think he could get any harder yet just the smell of her made him throb.

Tav’s lips peppered over his body along with her fingers. Fingertips dancing over the hairs on his chest. Kissing over the ridges of his abdomen. A long swipe of their tongue just under his navel sends Gale keening, and the binds rattled again his he tensed up. Then, finally, they were at the end of the bed. And him.

Gale was panting. Legitimately panting as he watched her carefully tuck her hair behind an ear with one hand and hold his cock in the other. Licked her lips. Then descend to swallow his member in one go. “Nine…Hells….!” Gale thrashed against his binds in a tormented pleasure fervor. He was actually quite grateful for them at the moment, because the likelihood of him kneeing Tav in the face with the sudden way she took him in was quite good. Not something high on the romance scale for their evening.

After the initial shock, Gale forced himself to relax. Tav hadn’t moved yet. Perhaps too nervous that he might buck up on her again and choke her, so his cock was just resting in her warm mouth and down her throat. He moaned at the feeling. Letting the warmth leech from his member, to the base, then rest of his body. Turning him into putty literally under Tav’s hand.

She started to move after that. Pulling back with a slow suckle of her mouth against his member to the tip, then back down. “…Tav…” He called out. Like a whispered prayer. To his goddess. His angel. Gale moaned through gritted back teeth as her tongue laved against the underside of his cock. The wet muscle flexing against it tantalizingly. His mouth snapped open in a sharp gasp when he felt her hand against his balls. Massaging them. The tip of her index finger pressing against the space between their and his back side that made him see stars. “Tav!”

His beloved came off his cock with a wet, seductive pop, though her hands never stop. Her lips red and puffy. Eyes darkened with desire for him. Gale would applaud his restraint in not cumming right then & there at the image, if he could actually get his hands to clap. “Where do you want to finish Gale?”

“Inside you.” His answer was embarrassingly quick. Or, it would be, if he still had the mental capacity to be embarrassed.

Tav smiled softly at Gale, and he had to remember to breathe. “Yes. That’s a given.” It might not be if she kept looking at him like that and dripping those sweet words made of honey. Very soon, it would be a moot point. “I mean do you want to finish in my mouth or…”

Gale watched as Tav’s hand slipped between her legs. His voice cracked with a whimper as he tried to answer, but his mouth was impossibly dry. The kind of dryness that could only be cured by Tav’s sweet essence on his tongue. He was half tempted to tell her to get up here and let him taste her, but this wasn’t about him, in a sense, tonight. “Inside you. Inside your beautiful body. Inside your….“cunt?” Gale nodded enthusiastically at Tav’s adlib.

Tav smiled again, then lifted her hips high to hover over him. His hands gripped at the ropes in a white-knuckle hold as it seemed to take forever for her to line them up. Soon enough she was lowering herself on his cock. The first press of its tip slipping into her wet folds sent his head back in a loud moan he didn’t know he had in him. He thought he might cry as inch after inch slid deeper inside her. Until Tav’s pelvis rested against his hips.

Gale was honestly dazed with pleasure at this point. It felt so good. Her walls gripping him like a delicate vice. Looking up at her beautiful body. Her nipples pebbled in the air. Her perfect lips just slightly ajar as she panted in desire back at him. “Are you ok?”

“Please.”

He honestly didn’t know what he was asking for. What he was saying. But Tav, his clever Tav, seemed to understand and began to roll her hips on top of him. He moaned again. Eyes screwed tight. His grip on the binds went white again as she rode him. Her hands on his chest to stay steady. The wet sound of her coming up & down with her ass slapping.

“Tav…Tav….I’m close….”

“Not yet.” Gale whined and pulled at his binds. “Not yet.”

He knew Tav was close. They have been together enough times, and he’s given her enough pleasure, that he knows when she’s about to cum. The subtle hitches in her breath. The slight tremble in her thighs. She was too close. So, he could wait for her a few moments longer. Rewarding himself on his restraint and gallantry by forcing his eyes open to watch Tav buck against his cock in ecstasy. Her own head tilted back. Her eyes closed. He bucked his own hips up to meet her. Delighted that, even though this was about her giving him pleasure, she was still getting pleasure from him.

They tumbled over the abyss shortly after that. His beloved shaking while his cock twitched inside her. Tav fell over him and kissed Gale fully on the lips. Her hips still moving as they kneaded him through his orgasm. When he was done, she pulled back and the two of them were panting. Breathless from their efforts and desperate for air as neither one seemed to want to let the other one go.

Tav lifted her hips one last time and Gale slipped out of her. Limp and exhausted as well, his cock just laid there by his leg. Wet with their juices. Overly sensitive from all the stimulation like its host.

His beloved lazily lifted her hand off his chest and made two quick snaps again. The bonds on Gale’s wrists & ankles are released. Laying on the bed about as limp as everyone else. An odd sort of numb feeling coursing through them as full circulation returned.

The wizard immediately wrapped his arms around her. Letting out a deep sigh at finally having her in his arms fully. “Did you like it?”

“Like it?” Gale asked back. His voice hoarse from all the moaning he did. What a ridiculous question. “Like is not the word I would use. More like overjoyed. Elated. Spontaneous combustion of ecstasy.”

Tav chuckled. Then turned her head up to give him a loving smile, then a peck on the lips. “I’m glad. See? It is better to give than receive.”

“I don’t know about all that.” Gale countered. “Better means well…better. This was….fantastic. You’re fantastic. But I still stand by my stance earlier this evening that nothing gives me greater pleasure than seeing you get pleasure from me.”

“Not even all this?”

Gale smiled softly at his beloved. Her earnest desire to want his needs taken care of, or perhaps just to win the argument, was so adorable he couldn’t help himself but tilt her chin up for another kiss. “Let’s just call it a tie then, shall we? I’m honestly too tired to argue.”

Tav sighed. She detested ties. But she seemed tired enough not to argue as well and curled up into Gale to get some sleep. “Just promise me that you’ll let me take care of you more often when we’re in bed from now on. I don’t want to have to tie you up again.”

“Yes, well…I mean…I will certainly try to remember. But if you feel that I’m being too selfish again then, by all means. No need to reinvent the wheel if we have a method that works.”

His beloved turned her head up to give him a cheeky look and grin. One he returned. She turned her head back to his chest and closed her eyes. “I can teach you the flourish, if you want.”

“Oh, you are a considerate and impossibly generous lover, my sweet.”

[thechaoslibrarian]

I wanted to make this a full fic but I just can’t so here’s the Drabble

Gale was used to your teasing, you sitting in his tent, trying your best to rile him up with all your dirtiest thoughts. Most of the time, you would have the older man quite flustered, completely at your mercy to kiss and touch. It's not like Gale didn't like this, he was more than happy to let you, it was just not what he expected to happen when you started traveling together.

You lips brush against the shell of his ear, whispering to him how badly you wanted him this night. He could feel your hand rest on his thigh, slowly inching up then retreating back down toward his knee.

Instead, Gale felt a surge of confidence from your actions. His hand catches yours and firmly presses it against his bulge, not hard but firm enough to keep your there.

" thought you wiser than to poke a sleeping dragon. I ought to show you the consequences of your teasing tonight.?

It's the first time he's spoken to you like this and all your teasing suddenly leaves as your mind grows blank. It's as if any thought or retort you had had been snuffed out, extinguishes just by Gale's words. It's quiet for longer than Gale or you expect it to be.

Gale turns to look at you, terrified that he overstepped. All those negative emotions begin to seep in as he sees you, wide eyed with a bright blush covering your face, terrified he might've been too much and scared you away. Internally, he panics wanting nothing more than to run away, decide that maybe letting the absolute turn him into some mindflayer and hope the party will kill him is the best option.

That is until he feels his tadpole squirm inside his head, connecting to yours as you look at him.

Instead of feeling any negative emotions from you, he feels lust. Deep, carnal lust, mixed with the feeling of submissiveness and vulnerability.

His eyes widened in understanding, gaining some of his previous confidence back as he realize why you clammed up. No, he hadn't weirded you out, he hit the target dead on.

Your mask had slipped, completely off as you buried your face into the crook of Gale's neck. No longer did you hold the control, but Gale did. But it didn't feel weird, it felt right.

"Oh, I think you'd like that, Wouldn't you?"

He doesn't receive a verbal acknowledgement, but your head happily nods. It's cute, seeing the tough leader of this party get all submissive for him, at a complete loss for words as he tells them all the things he wants to do.

His hand encourages you to sit on his lap, which you happily follow, letting yourself do. Then he starts to pull your pants below your knees, giving himself enough room to wedge his hand in between your thighs. Softly, he starts to rub circles against your clit.

From just outside the tent, you can hear your companions who are still awake having some banter. Still gathered by the campfire as they finish the rest of their meals, Karlach loudly recounting her time serving in the hells. Gale brings his free hand up to gesture for you to stay silent and you nod.

Without warning, Gales finger slide their way inside, finding no resistance as your slick welcomes him. You have no time to brace yourself as a strangled gasp goes past your lips, louder than you would've liked it to be. A mix of embarrassment and lust over take you as you try bite back all the pleased noises you begin to make as Gale slowly works his fingers in and out of you.

Slowly you feel your inhibitions slip, as the pleasure grows. Your voice no longer staying as quiet as it needed to be. His fingers find a nice pace as you start to grind against them, feeling your orgasm start to build up.

This time, Gale does not warn you of your volume, instead his other hand reaches up to cover your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping.

"Now, I do think I told you to stay quiet. Wouldn't want our companions to overhear you." He whispers into your ear sternly. Something about the tone in his voice makes your eyes roll back in your head, grinding up into his hand.