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tumbleweed-run · 8 months

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Gale x Reader x Astarion anyone?

2600 words of pure unadulterated smut. NSFW below the cut

You step back and admire your work, pleased.

Gale is on the bed, very specifically he’s naked and blindfolded on the bed. He got one hand resting across his stomach fingers fidgeting anxiously, the other arm his curled up above his head - hidden beneath his hair. If you had to guess those fingers are also moving.

You breathe out a chuckle and gently squeeze his ankle in reassurance that you’re there, that you wouldn’t just leave him in such a vulnerable position. His legs aren’t bound but they’re spread as if they were, he’s large enough that both heels are resting at the bottom corners of the mattress.

His cock is in stark contrast to his anxious hands. It’s full and heavy, arched up towards his navel. It’s already dripping precum into the full thatch of hair that trails down to its base. Whatever is going on in his mind, his body is already fully on board with your plans.

You’re busy admiring the sight, making notes that you must do this over again but with much more silk next time, that when a hand comes to rest gently on your lower back - you jump.

You turn your head to look at the true source of Gale’s anxiety. Astarion leans towards you, his eyes focused on Gale.

“What a lovely sight,” he murmurs.

Gale must have heard him because his head turns in an attempt to look in the direction he had last known Asarion to be. He realizes belatedly that there is no seeing for him currently. He reaches up instead to the headboard with the hand that had been previously tangled in his hair. The two of you watch as he rubs his fingers against the wood. It’s his own bed, one that predates you and the ilithids.

He’s grounding himself but you realize you’ll need to start moving or he’ll lose his nerve and back out of this. Even though he’d been the one to initiate this whole thing.

“As much as I’d like to think I’m adventurous, I must admit it is a bit unnerving not quiet knowing precisely where you both are right now. Perhaps-”

“Perhaps,” Astarion interrupts Gale, “we should consider a gag next time as well.” Despite the bite in his words, the vampire similarly wraps his fingers around Gale’s ankle. Letting him know his exact location. Gale jumps at the sensation.

Your gaze goes unfocus as you imagine just that. It would certainly be a sight indeed.

“Naughty thing,” Astarion teases no doubt reading your thoughts.

You flash him an unashamed smile before kneeling on the bed between Gale’s legs. You place both hands on his thighs now, letting him know your exact intentions.

“Is this still okay?” You ask as you begin kneading softly into the muscle of his thighs.

He swallows before slowly nodding. “Just a bit… uncomfortable at the moment. But temporary, I’m sure,” he’s eager to assure you.

“Well, let us… remedy that.” Astarion purrs behind you.

You move first, blocking out the vampire behind you. The two of you had been intimate once a long time ago and while you’d rather not dwell on the circumstances of that time you aren’t as nervous around him as Gale is currently.

Gale gasps as you finally grab his cock, it trails off into a sigh. Gently you begin to stroke him, too soft for his liking but it immediately works as a distraction. You work him like that for a moment, free hand wandering up and down his thigh.

Once his gasps have returned, and his hips are pressing up towards your hand in an attempt to make you touch him more firmly, you lean down and take him into your mouth.

A deep groan reverberates through his chest and his hips still, but it won't last for long. You know this after months of these kinds of intimacies with Gale. The man is near incapable of being still during sex.

Astarion’s hand has returned to your back slowly slipping lower to grab at your ass. You arch your back, pressing into him. You try and keep your focus on Gale and taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. He’s touching the back of your throat already it seems.

The elf takes this moment to dip his hand lower, slipping two fingers between your folds. It’s a quick movement, his cold fingers brushing towards your clit and then almost instantly away.

You moan almost gagging on Gale, your hips pressing down chasing firmer contact. Gale’s hand smacks into the wood above his head in response to the vibrations around his shaft.

Your hand comes back up to grip him, you stroke Gale, this time the way he likes. You look over your shoulder to ineffectually glare at Astarion. He’s not at all intimidated and smirks at you boldly. His red eyes are blown wide, he’s not unaffected despite his cool demeanor.

Still pumping Gale, who’s hips are again thrusting up into your hand, you take a moment and scan Astarion’s face and eyes. You’re searching for any signs that he’s retreated, that he’s burying himself again.

He realizes what you’re doing and his smile softens. You only see the beginning of the nod as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s a world of difference from the last one you two shared.

You break from the kiss and without warning take Gale back into your mouth. The sound that rips from him is near enough a shout that you feel Astarion’s chuckle at your back.

“So responsive,” he purrs loud enough for Gale to hear. You don’t have to look up to see that Gale is, without a doubt, blushing now.

You’re take Gale particularly deep again when you feel Astarion’s hand thread up into your hair at the back of your neck. You hesitate wondering if he’s going to push you down further, you find you’re not opposed to the idea. While Gale has no problem now grabbing at your hair he would never consider shoving you down on him.

And this time, neither does Astarion.

He does the opposite in fact. He tugs you gently upwards and you pull off of Gale with an obscene pop causing he wizard to moan loudly.

Astarion grabs the wrist and leads it back to Gale’s cock, his other hand still pulling you away from Gale. You shift, allowing him room to lean in beside you. He’s very carefully not to touch Gale anywhere right up to the moment when it’s his mouth replacing yours.

“A-a-astarion,” Gale stutters, the hand that was still on his stomach flutters in the air. For a second you think he might reach up for the blindfold with it but instead it drops with an audible smack onto his stomach again.

“All good?” You ask releasing Gale and shuffling back off the edge of the bed. Astarion wastes no time settling in.

“Better than,” Gale sighs out as Astarion begins to work him earnestly.

It’s damn near incomprehensible, the sight before you. In spite of the issues Astarion has with his past he has no issues using that knowledge to play Gale like an instrument. Gale, it appears, has forgotten how to breathe under Astarion’s skillful mouth.

Sure, he’s always been this reactive to you, but getting to just watch is a treat.

You’re behind Astarion now, he’s mimicked your previous position exactly. Down to his bracing his knees against Gale’s thighs to keep the man from pulling his legs shut. You continue to admire the view in front of you, suffocating the wave of rage when your eyes skate along the scars on Astarion’s back. So you focus on the curve of his spine instead, fingers delicately tracing the bones beneath the skin downward to the curve of his ass.

Astarion ignores you for the most part but he cannot control the ripple of muscles as your fingers push slightly between. You withdraw them. You might be crazy but you’re certainly not mean. Just a bit of magic and your digits are coated in oil.

You slip them back down, one finger presses against the tight ring as a warning. Astarion tilts his hips backwards in invitation and you slip the finger into him. You gently work your way to the goal and find the little bundle of nerves that elicits Astarion’s first unguarded moan of the night.

“My my my,” He can’t help but tease even as he rocking back onto your finger, “what surprising knowledge this is.” He breathes these word’s directly onto the tip of Gale’s cock which is weeping freely.

You’re amazed he’s not come already. New experiences always leave Gale feeling embarrassed about how quickly he finishes, though he’s ever the gentleman and ensures you find your own release.

You leave your hand still, letting Astarion control the movement. “You should talk to Gale about that,” you mean to be teasing but the words come out breathlessly.

Gale’s entire body flushes but his currently unattended cock leaps.

You simultaneously take two chances. The first being you carefully add a second finger to press inside Astarion. The second is a mock whisper into the elf’s ear.

“He’s so close,” you tell him. “In fact,” its an effort to keep your tone teasing, “he’s holding back right now. I’m impressed he didn’t come down your throat minutes ago.”

Gale’s mouth drops open, he’s clearly not sure how to respond. But every muscle in his body is drawn impossibly tight betraying whatever attempt at indignation he’s trying to screw up.

Astarion see’s this too and interestingly chooses to pull Gale back into his mouth. He swallows the wizard down to his base with an ease you almost envy. He’s still rocking back onto your fingers moaning each time your fingers brush into the sensitive spot but there is no urgency there. He’s not chasing his own release with the same fervor he’s trying to guide Gale to his.

You reach beside Astarion’s knees and drag your nails down Gale’s thighs, deeply enough the red lines raise to the surface of his skin immediately.

It’s enough.

Gale’s back bows up off the bed as he comes. Astarion hold his hips tightly enough to keep him from causing damage to his throat but he doesn’t pull off. Instead he drinks Gale down long after you know he’s spent. He also seems to have forgotten about your fingers inside of him, his body still except for his mouth.

Only once Gale has begun squirming away from Astarion does the vampire finally release him. He also pulls away from your fingers but the little moan as he does doesn’t escape you.

Gale’s hands go to the blindfold but he doesn’t yet pull it off. You take pity on him and walk around the side of the bed and rest your non-oiled fingertips lightly on the silk.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him softly. He doesn’t respond but you feel his eyelids flutter shut under your fingers and you lean over him and slide the ribbon off. He blinks lazily at you, eyes still clouded with bliss.

Without warning Astarion grabs either side of your hips, pinning your legs to the mattress with his own. “Stay, just like that,” he orders, his normally silk voice still rough from the abuse.

You freeze on instinct rather than any conscious desire to listen.

His cock presses against your entrance. “Astarion,” you whine. You’d meant it as a warning. You’re already soaked from the performance you’d witnessed but you’re still apprehensive of him pressing into you.

“Hmm,” he hums in amusement, “I do so like it when you say my name like that, both of you.”

He moves a hand and rests his wrist on your shoulder, fingers wiggling in the air asking for something.

It’s Gale voice that mutter’s the incantation that coat’s the elf’s fingers. You’re almost surprised that his grasp on magic has returned already. When you glance up at him again you see his eyes are sharp and watching the two of you with undivided attention.

Astarion doesn’t press his fingers into you instead he nosily slicks his own cock. He’s doing it that way on purpose, you’re sure of it. It’s working, you feel your knees tremble as you unconsciously push your hips backwards in a shameless attempt to seek him out.

The tip of his cock resting against your entrance for just a moment is all the warning you get before he presses into you.

“Ahh,” you cry out as he does.

He presses in firmly, unceasingly, until he’s bottomed out inside you. It’s uncomfortable, the stretch of him, but it’s so much more too. You find yourself pressing back again, chasing that almost butnotquiet painful feeling. He doesn’t let you, the hand that’s still on your hip is firm with a strength that only begins to betray his vampiric abilities.

With the same steady and undeterred pace he pulls back out until he’s almost slipped from inside of you.

And back in. And back out.

You’re head’s dropped down, forehead resting on Gale’s chest. Whimpers are punched out of you each time Astarion presses inside completely and again when he’s almost completely out. Each pass gets easier, you meet him with less resistance. You try sliding your legs apart slightly to gain ground where you can thrust back onto him, but he doesn’t let you. It’s only when he’s slipping easily in and out of you does he let you move. The noises your bodies are making cannot be just from the oil alone you realize with a moan. You’re so wet its obscene.

Astarion’s still slightly oiled fingers reach around to to where your still trapped against the edge of the bed. He expertly finds your clit and begins circling it with a similarly maddening pace as his thrusts.

There’s a hand in your hair, you dimly realize it must be Gale’s because you can feel both of Astarion’s. Gale’s stroking your hair, your neck, soothingly.

The slapping of skin on skin gets louder than the slick wet sounds of Astarion sliding in and out of you. His thrusts have gotten hard enough that your head is bouncing into Gale’s chest with each push.

You feel more than hear Gale say something, a deep rumble through his chest.

“She can take it,” Astarion assures him voice nearly as low as Gale’s, “can’t you?” He’s speaking to you now.

“Yes,” you whimper thrusting your hips back into Astarion’s.

He rewards you by switching his fingers now rubbing you with intention. Your single yes becomes a mantra, you repeat the word until it no longer sounds real.

You come with a high-pitched whine and without thought you bite Gale, sinking your teeth into the flesh of the muscle beneath your head. If he protests you don’t hear him, you don’t hear anything but the blood rushing around your body at breakneck speeds.

You feel Astarion’s release inside you more than anything else. His cock buried to the hilt as he spills, his fingertips will certainly bruise your hips now if they didn’t before.

Astarion is unexpectedly gentle as he slips from inside you. The touch of his hands now featherlight as he ensure you’re stable before he all but throws himself onto the bed at your side.

You’re all still for a while, long enough that your breathing evens out. When you finally open your eyes you find that Astarion had laid so that his head is on Gale’s other arm, his eyes are closed. And Gale, Gale is softly stroking the curls that have fallen out of place around Astarion’s face.

#Gale x reader x astarion #Astarion x Reader x Gale #bloodweave x reader #idk how many different ways to tag this guys #over 2000 words of pure filth #i do eventually need to migrate this stuff to ao3 #Gale x tab x astarion #astarion x tav x Gale #bloodweave x tav

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

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Good Boy

Astarion x transmasc!Tav/Reader x Gale

This is a part two to Feel Good

Gale might be OOC, I don't have him talking as much as I'd honestly like, but I just don't know what he'd say and I don't have the brain power rn to listen to his dialogue. Not proofread

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: oral (w vagina), threesome, top Astarion, bottom Gale, praise kink, hair pulling, slight scent kink, some nipple play, mentions of top surgery scars

Word Count: 1,051

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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Astarion couldn’t keep his mouth off of you. Lips trailed languidly along your new chest scars in wet kisses, tongue brushing along the jagged edges. You tasted like Gale’s soap, which they’d used to tenderly clean your body after so long of being unable to properly bathe. Now you were clean, and both men fully intended to make you filthy.

Both men knelt over you, Gale burying his face into your shoulder and trailing scratchy kisses along your throat. He brushed his tongue over the faded bite marks left behind by Astarion, drawing out a whimper from you. They were taking their sweet time. Their hands caressed and massaged and pressed softly against you, but they never reached where you needed them. Astarion could smell you already - dripping wet with arousal for them.

His dark red eyes sought out yours as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing ever so lightly against it as his tongue swirled around. Your hand flew to his hair, tugging desperately at his white curls.

“Please, please,” you gasped. You reached up and tangled your other hand in Gale’s hair, trying to pull him away from his assault on your jaw. “Need you, please.”

Astarion released your nipple, but his cool breath continued to fan over it as he spoke. “What do you want us to do, love? Use your words now.” He trailed a hand along your belly, brushing over Gale’s, and gliding it between your thighs, but not quite touching your sex. No, instead he pressed your legs open, and you complied without a single thought otherwise.

You groaned, frustrated and needy. “Eat me out,” you gasped as a flush rushed to your cheeks. “Please, Gale, need you.”

Gale captured your lips in a kiss, licking his tongue into your mouth greedily. You shivered thinking about him doing the same thing to your cunt. He pulled away with a grin. “It would be my honor.”

He made his way slowly down your body, taking his time to kiss every inch of your skin. Your collarbones, your sternum, your peck, down to your belly button, and further still until he knelt between your legs - he loved the way you tasted. Even just the smell of you was enough to drive him mad.

He pressed your legs further apart so he’d fit, and watched as Astarion’s slid from your thigh to your cunt. He used his fingers to spread your folds, slicking his fingers with you as he showed just how needy you were to Gale. “Look how wet he is already,” the vampire purred.

Gale groaned, cock twitching at just the sight of you like this. So handsome. So gorgeous. He dipped down, ready to dive in and lose himself in you. But Astarion stopped him with a small ah-ah, and presented his coated fingers to the wizard.

“Come on,” he encouraged with a smirk. “Show our darling just what that tongue of yours can do.”

“I’m sure he’s well acquainted by now,” he remarked, but he took Astarion’s fingers in his mouth anyway. He watched you both as he ran his tongue between them and licked up the slick, coating the fingers in saliva.

You shuddered and Astarion grinned. “Well aren’t you just a good boy,” he teased, but Gale shivered at the praise. Even though Astarion said it so playfully, he knew it was genuine. He pulled his fingers from Gale’s mouth and grabbed his hair, right next to yours. He pushed his head down between your thighs. “Eat up. He’s waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Gale didn’t hesitate. He licked a stripe up your slit, cleaning you of your wetness, before teasing his tongue around your entrance. You bucked up into him, but he pressed an arm over your hips to keep you pinned down. They couldn’t have you exerting yourself - that would ruin the entire point of this. With his nose pressed against your clit, his tongue plunged deep inside.

You moaned as he ate you out, pressing your head back into your pillows as the sensations overwhelmed you. The sloppy, wet sounds filled your ears; the wizard acted like a starving man at a banquet.

Astarion’s mouth found your neck, sucking and nipping all over, but especially around your pulse. Your blood raced under your skin as your heart raced. And you smelled delicious. “You’re gorgeous, my love,” he groaned into the skin behind your ear. He released Gale’s hair in favor of running his fingers along your chest scars, delicately, as they were still sensitive. He pressed harder when he ran his fingers just underneath them. “So fucking handsome.”

You tugged on his hair until his lips were on yours. It was a sloppy kiss, full of desperation and passion. He eagerly swallowed every moan and gasp from you.

He nipped at your lips when you pulled away with a choked groan. His eyes studied your face knowingly. “Are you going to cum for us, pretty boy?” You whimpered at the nickname. Gale felt you clench excitedly around his tongue.

Astarion’s hand slides down your stomach until his fingers find your clit. Gale repositions so he’s not getting flicked in the nose as the vampire begins rubbing circles against you. He peers up through your legs to watch as your chest rises and falls with hurried gasps, watching as Astarion finds your neck again and murmurs sweet praises into it. He can pinpoint the exact moment you orgasm.

Astarion doesn’t let up on your clit as you clench around Gale’s tongue, drawing out each moan of their names as your cum is eagerly eaten up by the wizard. Only once you begin squirming with overstimulation does Astarion stop, before pushing Gale firmly but not unkindly away from your cunt. His face is coated in you, filling his nostrils with your heady musk. He presses tender kisses to your inner thighs, holding them steady as they tremble from the aftershocks.

“Good boy,” Astarion praises as he pulls away to assess his partners. His eyes are still dark with lust as he watches Gale. They meet eyes, and between them is the same thought. He turns back to kiss you, languid and sweet, before he pulls away with a wicked smirk. “We’re not done with you yet, handsome.”

---

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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gales-basement · 8 months

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Im so surprised at how few Astarion x Tav x Gale fics there are. I romanced Astarion but my Gale never let up on loving me. It all felt so tragic, but there’s room for a beautiful story in there.

#bg3 #baldurs gate gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #my tav #gale x reader #Astarion x reader x Gale #Astarion x tav x Gale

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fandom-go-round · 7 months

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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.

Karlach:

She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

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thewizardhole · 3 months

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sabersandsnipers · 8 months

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Drabbles: Just One Bed

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Lord Gortash

Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting

Astarion

There’s only one pillow. So you and Astarion have to share. Neither of you want the annoyance of waking up with neck pain. And after arguing for a bit, you realize neither of you is winning.

Despite trying his best to keep distance between you, it’s incredibly difficult while trying to share a pillow. His body cradles yours. His lips nearly touch the back of your neck. For a while he manages to keep his hands to himself, but as his eyes grow heavy, his arm snakes its way around your waist.

Your body feels like its on fire despite his cold skin. You’re worried the rapid beat of your heart will keep him awake.

Somehow sleep eventually finds you. In the middle of the night, you roll over to find a more comfortable position. When you wake up, you find your face buried in Astarion’s chest.

He himself hasn’t slept since you rolled into him. He’s kept his arm slung over you, though, and has listened to your steady breathing all night.

When you attempt to move away from him, his grip around you automatically tightens. You freeze, waiting for him to realize you’re awake, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. Your body is warm and soft, and he never wants to leave this bed.

Gale

The bed is roomy, which you’re grateful for. There should be plenty of space for you two. There’s no blanket though, so Gale roots through the closet for one.

Gale clears his throat, and you turn your attention to him holding up a rather small blanket. One that definitely would not cover the whole bed.

“You have it,” he hands it to you. “I’ll be fine.”

You hesitate. “Are you sure?”

“Most definitely,” he replies, already making his way to the bed.

You climb in next to him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. It’s barely big enough to cover your own person. You look to Gale, who’s turned away from you. He looks so exposed, and frankly, uncomfortable.

“Gale?” you say.

“Hm?” he turns to look at you.

“Do you want to share?” you ask. You hold up the blanket so he can slide in.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He scooches over to you, and you let the blanket drop around you two. You let out a sigh of contentment as the warmth of Gale’s body presses against you. You usually run cold, so you’re grateful he accepted your offer.

He wraps his arms around you, because there’s no other way for you two to get comfortable. In the night, he even drapes a leg over you. You don’t mind, you even find yourself nuzzling into him, seeking every bit of warmth you can.

Halsin

A rainstorm tears your tent in the night. The cold splatter of rain on your face wakes you. Your bedroll is soaked, along with most of your belongings. You groan, getting out of bed so you can seek shelter with a companion.

Out of all the tents before you, Halsin’s calls to you. You know it’ll be the warmest. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you make your way to his tent.

You poke your head in. “Halsin?”

He wakes, an alarmed look on his face. “What is it?”

“My tent ripped. Can I stay with you?” A shiver slinks through your body.

He nods. “Of course.”

He opens his bed roll a bit, and you see he’s naked. Your jaw drops. You hesitate, part of you feeling like you’re crossing a line.

But then another shiver hits you, and you practically run into his arms. You sigh as you slide into the warmth of his bedroll.

Halsin groans. “You’re freezing.”

“I know.” You don’t hesitate to press up against him, soaking in all his warmth.

“You’ll warm up soon,” he says, rubbing your back. Then his voice hits your ear. “You’d warm sooner if you removed your clothes as well.”

Your stomach drops. You know if you do this, your companionship is going to get a bit complicated. But the thought of his hot skin against yours is too tempting.

He helps you out of your clothes, your heart fluttering the whole time. When you’re fully naked, he pulls you into his chest. Your heart pounds, but you relax against the heat of him.

He fully cocoons you, wrapping a thick leg around you to pull you even closer. You feel your body start to warm, and the shivers start to cease. You try to ignore how perfectly lined up you are to him. You know sleep will be impossible like this, but it’s worth it to spend the night in his warm embrace.

Gortash

You may have had one drink too many. The wine Enver provided for you was far too good to go to waste. And waste you did not. The last thing you remember is the soft cushioning of a bed before darkness took you.

The harsh morning light wakes you. The first sensation that hits you is that of a pounding headache. The next is that of a pair of strong arms encircling you.

Confusion hits you. You don’t remember going to bed with anyone. You feel your underwear is on, so nothing happened with whoever is in the bed with you.

You slowly turn your body to see who this mystery person is. You’re met with the strong face of Lord Gortash. Butterflies fill your belly. He simply invited you over for dinner, and here he is letting you sleep in his bed.

He’s sound asleep, his soft breathing evidence of the relaxed state he’s in. He’s sleeping shirtless, and you tentatively place your palms against his strong chest. You feel the strong muscles rippling under his skin.

He stirs slightly and you quickly hide your face against his chest. He shifts, his chest hairs tickling your skin. His powerful arms hold you so gently.

With your headache forgotten, and Enver’s body sending waves of warmth through you, sleep finds you again.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #halsin #enver gortash #halsin imagine #halsin x reader #Gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale imagine #Gortash x reader #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash imagine

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

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stillinracooncity · 8 months

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that feminine urge to read something that makes you cry, get angry, scream, laugh like a hormonal teenager, turn up the heat, feel like the most unique and beautiful human being on earth. *sighs*

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yangcherie · 5 months

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bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #gale x reader #halsin x reader #tavrem #as they say #this was fun to write #this was very lame actually #sorry but its been so so so long since ive written a fic much less published it

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bhaalsbabe · 6 months

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BG3 characters and their approach to eating you out on your period

MDNI, 18+ content below!

They would eat you out like you're their last meal, and the fact that you're bleeding makes them even crazier about it. They love the taste of your blood, and when it's mixed with the sweet juices of your excitement, they go absolutely feral. They will bite your surrounding areas too - you're not going to be bleeding only from your cunt, but your thighs and belly too. Every time they break your skin with their teeth, they suck at the wound, drawing more blood and making their mark on you more visible. And then they go back to devouring your pussy, playing with your clit to make you release more of that delicious nectar. They could go down at you all night... And once they're done, with your blood and cum smeared all over their chin, they'll smirk, and, while making eye contact with you, they'll clean the mess you've made on their face with their hands that they'll lick clean.

Astarion, Lae'zel, Durge, Orin, Halsin, Nere

They're hesitant at first, not finding it disgusting per say, just unsure if they'll find it as enjoyable as you. Still, after the first few tentative licks, they start to relax. They do not thrive on the coppery taste of blood but rather on your reactions to their tongue and sucking - all the noises and involuntary movements you make. They eat you out diligently, making sure you're fully satisfied. Their hands keep exploring your body too, they want you to feel loved. By the time they're done, which depends on how much you're enjoying yourself, they're a panting mess too, ready to do more with you, if you're willing.

Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Zevlor, Isobel, Dammon

They'll gladly do it, just because they enjoy having control over you and when they eat you out, bleeding or not, that's exactly what they're getting. They don't mind sipping your blood, they'll even tease you about the taste, offering you a kiss so you can try it yourself. They'll make you feel embarrassed for how big of a mess you'll turn into, and they'll make you beg for all of your orgasms. They'll show you no mercy and if you weren't so far gone, you'd notice they're really enjoying themselves too. They wouldn't mind turning this into a monthly thing.

Shadowheart, Gortash, Raphael, Volo, Haarlep, Aylin, Minthara

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celestialowlbear · 3 months

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⋆ ☀︎ ⋆ Halsin, Gale, & Astarion NSFW Headcanons ⋆ ☀︎ ⋆

Pairings: Halsin x You, Gale x You, Astarion x You

Summary: Their favorite positions with you. 😌

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. GN reader/you/Tav. Sex, praise, kissing, romantic. Soft Astarion. Established relationship with reader/Tav.

A/N: I’m sick at home and had thots. I apologize for any mistakes, haha. Just some soft smut for these men. Thanks for reading!

Halsin 🌱

Halsin doesn’t mind any position as long as you are thoroughly pleasured. But…

Halsin does love it when you ride him when he’s flat on his back.

Whether it’s in a bed, a grassy field, your bedroll, the soft banks of a river…Halsin will have you like this anywhere.

To see you in control of your pleasure and taking what you need…he goes feral.

Halsin also loves feeling up your body while you do so, squeezing and caressing and worshiping with his giant hands as he watches you bounce on his cock…he could have you like this for hours.

Not one single inch of your body is left untouched.

Feeling the softness of your ass or breasts (if you have them) under his palms, tracing his hands over your hips and thighs, murmuring praises as he does so.

You can still lean down and kiss him passionately, swallowing one another’s grunts and moans and loving sentiments.

Halsin knows he still has a little power, matching his thrusts with yours, pushing up into you, and increasing your pleasure.

Your reaction is always immediate as he fucks up into you like it was his task given to him by the Oak Father himself.

Witnessing your head thrown back in ecstasy, your lips parted and eyes heavy with lust as you gaze down at him with intense love…sometimes that’ll end him right then and there.

Gale 🔮

Missionary King. Hear me out.

It’s the intimacy of it all, being so close to you, faces millimeters apart, relishing the soft gasps of his name in time with his thrusts.

He can kiss you, entwine his hands with yours above your head, whisper sweetness in your ear, and sense your entire body under his.

Gale loves when your legs wrap around his waist, wordlessly encouraging him to take you faster and deeper, or how your hands grasp and tangle in his hair or dig into his back.

He can take in every expression of pleasure, how stunning you look, how much love is in your eyes even amid intense coupling.

You capture every expression of his, too. The way his hair hangs around his face, his powerful thrusts precise just like his touches, and his breathless “I love yous” between desperate kisses.

Gale prefers taking you in the comforts of your shared bed in his tower in Waterdeep, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have you laid out on his desk, or perhaps in the study in front of the fireplace if the moment is right.

In exceptionally passionate moments, he’ll hook your legs over his shoulders to drive into you and make you see stars, usually bringing you both to your end quickly with the intensity of your devotion.

In this position he can wholly worship you like the god(dess) you are to him.

Astarion 🌙

Astarion enjoys being with you in the confines of your bedroom with no distractions.

Just you and him, only focusing on exploring one another’s bodies and becoming comfortable with your newfound intimacy.

Astarion loves beckoning you to his lap while he sits against the headboard of the bed.

He prefers you riding his cock like this, at least until you orgasm first, and maybe he’ll switch up positions.

He likes it mostly because it gives him full access to your neck and chest, but there’s another reason.

Astarion might not admit it out loud (maybe later into your relationship) but he loves just…being able to hold you in such an intimate moment as well.

Astarion will wrap his arms around you and lavish your neck, kissing and nipping and inhaling your scent, leaving love bites as he goes.

Tasting you and feeling you like this makes it all real to him, knowing your connection was real, and that your connection was more than purely physical.

It was real love, and it made his heart want to burst out of his chest.

He can nibble at your chest or just bury his face into your soft skin and get fully lost in everything that is you.

Of course that doesn’t mean his hands won’t wander, cradling the back of your head and giving your ass a hearty squeeze when the moment calls for it.

You never miss the quiet gasp that leaves his lips when you lightly tug at the curls of his hair and kiss him deeply, or the gentle smile that graces his lips when you are both finished and spent, watching you fall asleep in his arms.

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

*Banner made by me. Photos taken from BG3 wiki*

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multiverse-menagerie · 8 months

Note

Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

#baldurs gate x reader #gale x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #Lae’zel x reader #halsin x reader #shadowheart x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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demigoddessqueens · 9 months

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touch

Thinking of touch-starved men…, their eyes follow your hands and fingers so carefully, anxiously, getting easily jealous at how casual your touches are with others who are not them; always lingering where you are, seeking out your presence and just wanting a sliver of your attention away from everyone else; touch-starved ones who have a quiet gasp whenever you place your hands over theirs or just a casual friendly touch; chills along their spine and entire body as you play with their hair; hugs make them freeze in their tracks before arms tentatively wrap around you like your made of glass or a stardust that will vanish the second it’s over

EDIT: they can’t help but swallow down their moan(s) when your fingers brush through their hair, lightly touching the exposed back of their neck

Just….touch starved characters…

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twi-liight · 9 months

Note

Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?

Reckless Attack ❣

Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!

An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.

Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.

Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.

Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.

A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.

Well.

Fuck.

ASTARION

"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”

Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.

They look away.

"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.

Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”

“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.

This time, it is different.

They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.

Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."

Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."

"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.

"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.

"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"

They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.

Fuck. Their head spins in circles.

"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"

"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."

Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.

"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"

"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"

"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"

"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.

He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.

At least there, they will be safe.

"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."

Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.

He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.

"Astarion," they plead.

He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.

"I almost lost the sun of my life today."

When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.

"It will not happen again."

GALE

"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.

He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."

His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.

"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"

"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.

Oh no. He knows that look.

They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?

No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."

"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"

"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.

Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?

He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.

"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."

The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?

No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.

"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."

He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.

"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.

They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.

"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.

KARLACH

"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.

They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.

"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."

Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.

All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.

Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."

"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."

Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.

She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.

She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."

"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."

Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."

"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."

"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"

"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"

"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"

Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.

"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.

"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."

"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x tav #gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #shadowheart #halsin #halsin is always just there. like. yeah ok guys. whatever

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world-of-shadows-and-music · 7 months

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Male Companions Responding To Your Pregnancy Announcement

Here are some headcannons I have for the Male Companions + Zevlor responding to your's/Tav's pregnancy announcement. I have a few more ideas I want to write out for the week so we will see how that goes.

Wyll

Legit might start crying when you tell him you’re expecting.

He smiles so big and bright before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you in a circle.

He is (carefully) rubbing his face against your stomach and whispering to the little baby bump.

He will not let you do anything on your own once you have the smallest of bumps.

He understands you don’t need his help, but he will offer it no matter what.

Once you get later on in your pregnancy, he is constantly rubbing your belly and telling them stories of his adventures as the Blade of Frontiers.

Once you get close to your due date, he will not leave your side cause he doesn’t want to miss anything.

He is there to hold your hand and help you anyway he can when you go into labor. Whispering how well you’re doing and that you are almost there.

Once the baby is there and in his arms, he melts. He doesn’t want to let them go.

Seeing you holding the little baby is his favorite thing.

“Oh darling. You have done so wonderfully.” Looking down at the little child, his child, wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully in his arms. “You have given me everything I could ever hope for.”

Astarion

He has heightened senses due to being a vampire so he can smell something different about you long before you tell him, but he doesn’t know what it up.

He thinks you’re playing some sick joke when you first tell him you’re expecting.

He just can’t wrap his head around it at first, but you wake up to his hands on your belly and whispering softly.

He comes around to the idea of you both having a child slowly but once he does, he is making sure you have the best healers available.

He even asks Shadowheart and Halsin to check on you and make sure everything is going well.

He becomes obsessed with your belly as it gets bigger, wanting to constantly be touching you in some way.

When he feels the first kick, he is startled but you see the largest grin on his face.

“Oh, a little fighter on our hands it seems.”

When you go into labor, he is afraid but he sits behind you and lets you push against him.

He is whispering into your ear how wonderful you are doing and letting you squeeze his hand.

Once he hears the baby cry for the first time, he has an out of body experience.

He is looking over your shoulder at the little one as they are placed in your arms, with you cooing down at them.

“Lover… They look perfect.” Reaching around you and letting them grab hold of his finger with his tiny hand. “I swear, I will always be there for them.”

Gale

He stares at you for a moment with wide eyes when you tell him before breaking out in a smile and scooping you into his arms.

He will want to announce to all your companions as soon as possible. He wants to share your good news with everyone.

He starts planning everything; the nursery, what colors everything should be, what foods he is going to be cooking for you through the pregnancy, everything you can think of.

Not to mention Tara is your little shadow and you’re pretty sure that she is reporting everything back to Gale.

He checks up on you multiple times a day, asking if you need anything or if you are craving everything for him to cook.

When you are laying in bed with him, he will be reading next to you and absently rubbing your belly.

When your belly gets bigger, he will want to have his arms wrapped around you while sleep with Tara curled up next to you.

He wants to be there when you give birth, he will not hear anything against it.

When you do go into labor, he is right by your side and wiping your forehead with a wet towel.

He honestly gets in the way of the midwife with his constant questions, but they force him to sit next to you.

When the baby is finally born, he wants to be the first to hold them and cradle them in his arms.

“Oh dearest, look at them. Look at how perfect you have done.” His soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes as he looked down at the child, wanting nothing more in the world.

Halsin

Halsin knows before you do that you’re pregnant. He picks up on the nausea, the tiredness, and he can smell it on you.

He waits for you to tell him though, giving you the privacy even though he is bursting at the seams with excitement.

He is making sure you’re eating enough and getting enough rest.

You wouldn’t even need to list a single finger if you didn’t want to.

He makes sure not to be too far from you if you would ever need him.

He starts whittling little toys for the child, including a little bear for them.

When your belly gets larger and you start complaining of back pain, he will come up behind you and put his hands under your belly to help relieve the pressure with his chin resting on your shoulder.

From the moment you two lay down for the night he is constantly talking to your belly and rubbing it.

The first time he feels a kick he will grin and give the spot a soft kiss.

He makes sure to keep an eye on everything for anything that could go wrong but he is not against you having additional healers to check up on you.

When you go into labor, he wants to help the midwife with anything they need; water, towels, just about anything.

He also wants to be the one who cuts the cord and clean the baby right after they are born.

He holds them in his arms and marvels at how small they are compared to him before he hands them to you.

“My Heart, just look at them.” Halsin looking down at the child, slowly running his finger down their cheek as they sleep. “Just look at what we have made together.”

Bonus: Zevlor (because I love him and no one can stop me)

When you tell him the poor man’s heart stops for a second.

He is a stuttering mess, hands reaching for you trembling, but he pulls you into his arms and holds you close kissing you.

A million and one doubts that he will be a good father go through his head, but he doesn’t doubt for a second that you will be a good parent.

You have to reassure him and give him a lot of love.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re taken care of during your pregnancy.

You mention you want a snack or sweet? He will come home with like 10 of them.

You will wake up to him rubbing your belly as it gets bigger.

He eyes will be full of love and wonder when he feels them kick.

When you go into labor, he just can’t stand seeing you in pain and gets kicked out by the midwife.

But the moment he hears the first cry he will burst back into the room.

When the midwife hands the baby to him for the first time, he treats them as if they are made of glass.

“Oh sweetling.” Zevlor could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision as he held the newborn close to his chest watching them yawn. “You have given me everything.”

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #wyll x reader #wyll x tav #gale x reader #gale x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #tav x zevlor #zevlor x reader #pregancy

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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months

Text

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

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mooshywrites · 2 months

Text

Sensitivity

Where to touch to drive them wild

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion -

~ Ears ~

You began to pepper Astarion’s face with gentle kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the way his breath hitched and his body tensed beneath your touch. Feeling mischievous, you trailed your lips down to his earlobe, planting a soft kiss there before lingering to gently nibble on the sensitive skin. Astarion let out an involuntary groan, his hand reaching to grasp your waist as he tried to stifle his reaction.

“Sensitive ears, huh?” you teased, feeling a surge of affection for the pale elf beneath you. His facade of nonchalance cracked ever so slightly as he leaned into your touch, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. Astarion let out a low chuckle, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement in his voice.

“Not a clue what you mean, pet,” he stuttered, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

You smiled before leaning back down repeat your actions. As you continued to kiss his ear, you couldn’t help but notice a shift in Astarion’s demeanor. His grip on your waist tightened, his body arching towards your touch with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. The playful banter was slowly replaced with burning heat. Astarion’s breath became heavier, his wandering hands more needy.

“Perhaps you may have a point.”

Halsin -

~ Thighs ~

You tried your best to ignore your boredom, sitting silently through the Druid’s Grove weekly meeting. Halsin side to your right, nodding to whatever Rath was saying. You sighed dramatically, laying your hand on your Druid’s thigh.

Halsin shifted slightly as your fingers brushed against his thigh, a fleeting look of surprise flashing in his eyes before he quickly composed himself. His gaze met yours, a hint of heat dancing in the depths of his emerald green eyes. You could feel the tension between you two, a subtle electricity crackling in the air as the other druids carried on with their conversation, unaware of the silent exchange happening between you and Halsin.

You leaned in, your breath whispering across his ear. “Don’t tell me the First Druid is that sensitive,” you teased, squeezing his thigh again.

Halsin's breath hitched at your touch, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. His lips parted as if he were about to respond, but no words came out. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red that spread down his neck, betraying the calm facade he usually wore.

Clearing his throat, Halsin shifted away slightly, pretending to readjust his position in the meeting circle. But you could sense the tension rolling off him in waves, his every movement betraying the desire that simmered just beneath the surface. He gave you a half-hearted glare, his voice low.

“If you don’t behave, Oak Father preserve me, I’m not going to make it through this meeting.”

Gale -

~ Neck ~

You set down a fresh pot of tea on Gale’s work desk, planting a casual kiss against his jaw as he studied the book in front of him. You felt him shiver slightly under your touch, turning to you. Before you could pull back, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you closer, his lips eagerly seeking yours in a heated kiss.

His lips were warm and insistent against yours, sending a thrill down your spine as he deepened the kiss. The tea on the desk was forgotten as your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. His kiss was demanding yet tender, a mixture of passion and restraint that left you breathless. When you finally pulled away, Gale’s face was painted with a wide smile.

“What on earth was that?” you giggled, landing a peck on his nose.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he grinned.

“Your kiss on my neck seemed to have flipped a switch.”

Wyll -

~ V lines ~

Wyll’s shirt rode up slightly as he reached out to grab a fallen branch, the fabric teasingly exposing a sliver of taut skin. Your gaze was drawn to the hard lines of his waist, a subtle indentation that seemed to beckon your touch. Without thinking, your fingers traced the curve of his V line, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. As your fingertip lingered there, you noticed a slight shiver run through wyll’s body, his breath catching ever so slightly.

In that moment, you realized the effect your touch was having on him.

“Everything alright?” you asked innocently, dragging your fingertips further down.

“Love,” Wyll warned, his hand catching yours.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you met Wyll’s gaze, the tension in the air palpable.

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

Wyll’s grasp pulled you closer, his eyes heated as your chest pressed flush against his.

“Then I’ll return the favor of your little tease.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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