#baldur's gate x reader

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

[specialmoogakii]

I had a silly idea that Tav belong to our modern world and got teleported into baldur's gate 3,so they were basically forced to learn to adapt. Slowly get better and better at everything until they had to return to their world. (Gale totally promised to find a way to connect these two worlds even.. if it is a little impossible but still wants to try. The others are totally sad about tav going away indefinitely)

Then these "weirdos" got somehow teleported in tav's house and its their turn to learn how to adapt into this universe until they figure out a way back (or.. they don't want to go back because tav is there with them👁👁). Imagine the chaos in tav's poor house and the possibly weird questions Tav have to answer LOLOL.

This silly idea can be used by anyone (tag me if you want to do it plz) since im not an avid fanfic writer as i used to be.

[lovelybluebirdie]

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

[angelltheninth]

Karlach Unable to Get Enough of You

Pairing: Karlach x Reader

Tags: fluff, touch-starved, kissing, cuddles, tail shenanigans, playful biting, protectiveness

A/N: She's been on my mind for a while, I need to get these brainworms out. Plus I find the whole "romance but can't touch" thing very appealing both as a writer and as someone who's ace.

The pining was almost too much to handle for you both, unable to touch from the fear of being hurt, well this was more Karlach's fear then yours, you were willing to endure a few burns if it meant that you'd kiss her

Once she's able to touch you she becomes the clingiest person in your party

This isn't just towards you but towards some of her friends as well

Although with you it's a lot more romantically intimate

She'll place her hand on your thigh when you're sitting by the camp fire, she'll wrap her tail around you when you're sleeping, it doesn't matter if her back is turned or not, she'll pull you into her arms and growl at anyone who flirts with you

You're hers, and it feels strange to admit to it, to have this new protective and possessive urge to be with you

Kissing happens multiple times a day, after every fight, before you go to sleep, as she holds you up against a tree, biting at your lips, pulling them between her sharp teeth and letting you moan against her lips

You always feel her tail around you, even when you're walking

This has tripped you up a few times before but now she's able to catch you, spin you around and kiss you better

She no longer minds when you catch her looking at you because now you can both do something about it, a touch, a kiss or something more, it's all finally on the table for you two

[lady-ashfade]

My babygirls

-The duo of them being protective of tav together- I’d feel so safe.

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

( can't you come to me now, this instant? i'm longing for you. )

chara : astarion fandom : baldur's gate 3 quote cr : ingmar bergman

astarion is not one for gentle affections, this quiet sense of intimacy a frightening and foreign being to this walking tragedy. yes, there is something he finds all too easy in the giving of himself to another, even if it may be through falsehoods & fatalities, even if there is something terribly lonely and desolate in a touch meant for the fervor. yet there is something so horribly different and confusing in the way he feels towards you-- from something born of deception and sickening sweet words to something more, to something real-- it makes no sense, and he despises this madness in limbo.

it's all too abstract and concrete all the same, and it's made of hypocriticals, but it's made of something so excruciatingly tender and naive, and maybe he thinks there's a safety to be found, somewhere, somehow, in you.

and perhaps that is the most frightening of all.

something weighs heavy on his mind ; something stirs beneath the rot carved into his chest, the hollows of being an ache in existence. it is so pronounced, so known, and surely this must be weakness. yes, that must be it-- nothing more, nothing less. he will admit that much, this fragility, because it's much easier to admit to that than to think of it being anything more.

ah, hells. he's too prideful, chin held high, practiced facade so carefully crafted. too stubborn, you think, to admit that he does find some semblance of comfort in your touch, and in the way his gaze meets yours, that lingering longing drowning in crimson hues, you understand.

you take a small step forward, note how he watches you with a vague hint of wariness. your movements are slow, cautious, but they are made of fondness and something reverent, and he does not know what to do with that.

you lace your fingers with his, squeeze his hand so gently that he almost cannot recognize this kindness you give to him. but he never can, can he? he'll never understand you, never understand why.

"sorry, astarion," you begin, "my hands are cold."

he blinks a few times, brow raised before he tilts his head in that certain, dramatic way you've grown to adore. the quiet joys that rest on the subtle curve of your lips grow the slightest bit at his reaction, and in return, he smiles, too.

"oh, how ridiculous. you always have to find excuses just to touch me, don't you?"

you laugh ; it is such a warm thing to hear, he thinks, and though he has only recently come to understand the sun's warmth, he does not think it could compare to yours.

[petriquors]

POV: you wake up at your lover's side

a/n: set between acts 2 and 3; implied act 2 spoilers.

You wake up in a bed. It wouldn’t be abnormal, you think, apart from the fact that you’ve been camping on the road to Baldur’s Gate for days. You should be upon a bedroll with the stars overhead, not in a bedroom with the sound of a dying fire in one ear and the rhythm of ocean waves in the other.

It isn’t the sounds or sights that you recognize; it’s the feeling. A mystic warmth surrounds you; you’re subconsciously aware that everything you touch is an illusion, and the fact is ever-present in your slowly waking mind.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the caress of a shared daydream. It’s a vision that’s not your own, but you welcome it into your mind anyway. Besides, the hand that rubs your hip, the chest that presses against your back, and the breath on the crown of your head are all quite real.

“You needed this,” Gale murmurs in your ear. “After Ketheric—”

You smile to yourself, refraining from pointing out that Gale, who is blessedly still here, needed this, too. “And what is ‘this,’ exactly?”

He chuckles, and a rustling of sheets signals what’s about to come: Gale now moves like a man who knows he’s no longer on borrowed time. You’re entranced by the way one hand settles beside your head, while one knee swings over your hip. His center of gravity shifts, and he’s up above you, leaning down to lay his lips on your forehead.

“A good morning,” he says with a somber undertone, still used to the weight of his personal burdens. “A moment of quiet.”

Your smile grows. You reach up to cup his face with one hand, fingers grazing over stubble, while your other hand rests lightly on the back of his neck. “Quiet could be had at camp.”

A flash of mischief passes through his eyes, making him look younger and more full of life than you’ve ever seen him.

“Not,” he teases, leaning down again, but stopping before his smiling lips touch yours, “without prying eyes.”

Beautiful things come alive in your heart. Happiness. Anticipation. Romance. A sense of normalcy you haven’t felt since long before the tadpole. Who would have thought that a few grand illusions and several near-death experiences were all it would take to get you there? 

In bed, in the arms of a lover who touches your heart in ways no other ever has.

You lean upward, but you don’t need to move very far to reach him. With just a little tilt of your chin, your lips cover his in a kiss so sweet that your senses resonate like the most sublime of songs. You’re here, wherever here is, and so is he. Your hands touch his skin, and his touch yours. The little sigh he lets out reaches your ears, and you can taste him and all the life that’s reawakened in his soul.

When he pulls away, eyes full of a love that warms the very energy of the illusory room, you whisper, “Thank you.”

One side of his brow quirks up, but his smile hasn’t faded. “I’ll accept your thanks, but they’d be better if I knew what they were for.”

How could you ever answer that? There isn’t enough time to explain how grateful you are that he’s alive, here, with you. That he��s given himself the chance to chase what’s real instead of that which he cannot see.

So, you shake your head and reach to entwine your fingers with his. And then you settle upon thanking him for what he is: “Everything.”

[multific]

My Heart in the Palm of Your Hands

Astarion x Reader

Looking into his eyes you often felt a pull. He was cunning, handsome and charming. He wasn't afraid to show off his body and frankly, he shouldn't be.

In your eyes, he was perfection.

You loved his eyes the most, they told stories even with the most simple look.

Astarion and your heart got tangled during a very eventful mission.

And after, no one could separate you.

He liked to watch you from afar, observe you to see what you were doing, and analyse your movements.

Even now, you found him doing it even if he was only sitting at arm's length. 

But now, you also found adoration in his eyes, the purest love. 

He was no longer calculating his next move, he was no longer burdened with his past, he was free.

Free from Kazador.

Free from torture and fear.

And now, he was in love.

One could argue that love was just a different word for his prison, but Astarion would never agree. 

At first, he was only meant to seduce you, to get you on his side and help him.

And yet, it became real, too real for him.

He kept finding himself to be smiling at you, he worried about you and in the end, your nightly meetings became more and more meaningful.

The sadness from his eyes slowly disappeared, and instead was filled with love.

The nightmares that kept him up at night became the sweetest dream with a simple promise, you.

One late night, you both walked in the moonlight and he suddenly stopped.

He held your hand in his and smiled at you.

"You hold my heart in the palm of your hands." he said as he turned your palm up and held the back of your hand with his palm, as if you were holding something.

And you swore, for just a second you could feel his heartbeat in the palm of your hands.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[xthescarletbitch]

random smut headcanons || bg3 ladies x reader

18+, minors do NOT interact

cw: afab!reader!receiving, implied strap-on use, f!reader terms of endearment

word count: 1600+ (400+ each)

author’s note: these are some of my current smut headcanons for lae’zel, minthara, shadowheart, and karlach that originally started as what i thought their fave positions were. i should probably share that i have yet to beat the game or explore all of their romances, so my opinions may change in the future as i do. enjoy! <3

lae'zel

lae’zel likes to fuck you in any position that gives her power, but then again, she’d manage to get power in any position you find yourselves in. if i had to describe a position that she’d like, i’d go for one where you are sitting on her strap, but backward, your back flush against her chest, which is heaving. she juts her hips straight up into you with one hand on your breast and another strumming your clit, her mouth placing kisses and love bites on the skin she can access. the contact of your bodies together has grown to be so intimate for her that it’s a must anytime you have sex–no matter the duration. even during those short moments when you can get some relief, when she’d have you pressed against a nearby surface, completely under her control, she wants your chests grinding together as she brings you to your peak. her hands will happily explore your body with the gentle touch that she craves herself. when the strap isn’t in the picture, she’ll still bring you to orgasm with a combination of her mouth, fingers, and pussy. lae’zel would be a fan of rubbing her pussy over yours, relishing in the mess you both make. and on that note, she definitely touches herself whenever she eats you out.  lae’zel also likes to be bitten–shoulders, ears, everywhere, especially her lips. take her plump bottom lip in between your teeth, pull, and she will go crazy. she will push you down and take you right then and there (giving you your own marks, of course). she wants to bear the mark of the conquest, and her possessive side is pleased to show the world who belongs to whom. and on the softer side of things, lae’zel is a big fan of being adorned in kisses, with her favourite spot being her jawline. lae’zel may also have a hard time being patient when it comes to you. sometimes, you just smell so good to her that she has to take you right then and there. the party will stop for a short rest, and she will quickly pull you into an empty room she found, pushing you up against the wall as soon as she closes the door. she wastes no time stripping you of the pesky clothes that get in her way. she must taste all of you–everything else can wait.

minthara

minthara is another fan of being in control–who would have thought? she usually favours the positions that have you writhing beneath her, begging for more. it boosts her ego to know that she’s the one–the only one–to give you the abundance of pleasure. she’ll have you on your hands and knees in front of her, her strap buried deep inside of you, and your face buried in the pillows below. your hands would be tied behind your back, firmly in her grasp, as she pounds into you. maybe she’ll push your face a little more into the pillow just for fun. she can also get a bit sadistic at times, sometimes denying you an orgasm, ordering you to hold it until she gives you permission. she always gives in, though, especially when you’re taking her so well. minthara will never outright admit it, but she loves the gentler moments just as much as the rough ones. for instance, she likes to have you on your side to where she can take you from behind, her body pressed against your own, and her hands caressing your skin. it’s a bonus when a mirror is nearby, specifically in a position that puts you both on full display. she thinks the act of sex is beautiful and wants to see everything, including your pleasure-stricken face. it is in these moments that soft minthara shines. she’ll allow herself to be a bit vulnerable with you but will still find it hard to express it through words… so she will show her love for you through her actions–more specifically, through her touch. her touches feel heated against your skin, showcasing her passion for you, and she does it in such a loving way that she doesn’t even need words to supplement them. of course, that doesn’t mean that she won’t use sweet words with you, because she will, such as reminding you of the obvious: you are brave, you are strong, you are exquisite; it just means that she is better at showing her admiration for you through the use of her own body.  minthara is also insanely possessive. she’ll mark you just as lae’zel would, but she’ll also bring it into the sheets, reminding you whose pussy it is as she fucks it. in those moments when she’s feeling particularly in the mood, she’ll get a bit rougher and make you repeat, out loud, who you belong to. she wants the neighbours to hear it. 

shadowheart

shadowheart just loves to be deep inside of you, holding power or not. she’ll happily take you in various positions, whether you’re on top or bottom. it is worth noting that she can get a little greedy, though, but never too rough. when the power is in her favour, she just wants more and more. she becomes so consumed by the moment–the way your hips snap together, the way your mouth falls open to let moans escape, the way you take her so well–it’s all so intoxicating. she wants to feel it all... so maybe she’ll cast a little spell to where she can. it makes your love life so much more interesting. each time she enters you, each time she bottoms out in you, each time she hits your g-spot, each time is enough to drive her crazy (and you will hear her moans). she’ll maintain such an intimate tempo the entire time, too. she is in no rush to bring you to orgasm and wants to savour every moment. she may go slow, but fuck, she’ll make you both feel so good. shadowheart is in love with every part of you and wants to see it all during sex. she gets so mesmerised and yearns to love on it all. whenever you’re riding her, she loves to watch and admire your breasts as they bounce. (as i have seen in many headcanons, and agree with,) shadowheart is also a fan of your ass, which she’ll grab whenever she has a chance to. for fun, she’ll take you from the back just to see it bounce, too. i also think she’d slap it to see a bit more jiggle, being fascinated by the red handprints she leaves in its place.  shadowheart is a fan of other things during sex, like playing with and pinching your nipples. while she isn’t very rough with you, she’s not opposed to a little pain with your pleasure. she would gladly receive the same treatment (being gentle all the time is no fun to her). she also loves (LOVES) to have her fingers on you, in you, all of it. she’ll usually bring you to orgasm from her fingers alone. feeling you clench around her fingers gets her wet herself, which honestly makes her a fan of getting each other off at the same time. there is something divine to her about having each other’s fingers buried deep inside the other, moaning into each other’s mouths as you press on.  shadowheart also loves to call and be called a good girl. i don’t make the rules.

karlach

karlach loves anything where she can pull you close and love on you properly, so slow and sensual love-making sessions with her are a must. she deems you a goddess and believes you must be treated as such. when she has you in a position like missionary, she likes to use her hands to roam across your body and caress it gently, often leaving her kisses in their place. gods, you are just so intoxicating to her–she’ll react similarly to shadowheart in this sense. she’d do anything to be able to feel herself be inside of you–that might just drive her crazy. if that were to happen, i don’t think she’d keep up with being very gentle. i think those years of pent-up passion would just explode and lead her to grip your hips like a mad woman, pulling you roughly toward hers until she couldn’t get any deeper.  karlach gets so giddy during foreplay. she can hardly contain herself sometimes. she has to remind herself to go a little slower rather than just rip your clothes off of you (which she would totally do). she gets breathless during makeout seshes because she never wants to depart her lips from yours, yet she will still try to fiddle with your clothes, eager to admire what lies beneath. unless, of course, you were okay with her giddiness… in which case she will show you just how needy she is for you. your clothes would be on the floor, and your bodies meshed together in less than thirty seconds (she has timed it before). whatever the occasion, she will make it a moment you will never forget. she is all about giving you what you want… many, many times. many!! karlach does have a soft spot for you riding her, though. she’ll be patient with you unless you want some more, in which case she will happily oblige–she’ll have you flat on your back in less than ten seconds, ready to give you all the attention you crave. just think of the way she lays on her back in camp (you cannot tell me that she does not want to be ridden until she sees stars). she is also a fan of trying different positions, such as fucking you while standing, her arms holding you up in the air as she pulls you down on her cock. she will take any excuse to do it, too. it gives her a good workout. karlach is also such a sweetheart with her words during sex. she’ll tell you how good you’re being for her and how she will adore you as long as you let her. 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Astarion's s/o avoiding him to prepare a Valentine's Day surprise feasts for him? Nothing angsty however, she just makes up excuses to throw him off.

Astarion x Reader - Valentine's Day

It was official. [Y/N] was avoiding him. And Astarion couldn’t figure out why.

He assumes he’s done something wrong. He just couldn’t figure out what. For all his social graces, charm, and etiquette training to seep in with the noble lords, he still had the incredible knack of saying the wrong things at the wrong time with this group of people. No one seemed to get his biting wit or rapier sharp jabs, usually with their literal counterparts. Except for Shadowheart and Lae'zel, but…that really didn’t add credibility to his argument.

At first, he hadn’t noticed. Astarion wasn’t some puppy that followed them around camp, like that mutt they picked up. He had his own entertainments and [Y/N] had their own business to attend to. It was a lot of work keeping their once neat little conclave turned full blown circus in line, but [Y/N] seemed to manage. Astarion often thought during lost moments that if anyone really wanted to take over the world, they should study and harness whatever power it was they had to keep drawing people into them. Forget the tadpoles. Much less slimy as well.

Still, he wasn’t immune to being ignored. And after a while he started to wonder what could be so important. Not that he was looking for attention. To reiterate, he was not a lost puppy following them around. Astarion was just….curious as to what could have bedazzled their focus so.

Stealthy as a cat, he followed after [Y/N] as the snuck off into the forest around their camp. Their third time out there, if his observations were correct. Silently and cautiously, he followed. Until he felt it was the perfect time to announce himself with an accusatory, “what are you doing out here?” as he stood to make his presence known.

“Gah!” [Y/N] exclaimed in a startled sound. Prone, for a moment in surprise as they turned to face him. Astarion had never seen this expression before. In battle, they were always so fierce and focused. Even when he ‘surprised’ them on one of their early nights together, hungry and asking for more than he probably should have, they still had this spark of defiance & fight about them. But genuine surprise? Now he had to know what was going on.

“I said, what are you doing out here?” He repeated in case they missed it in their shock. “Why are you slinking out here in the middle of the night like some manner of shade? Surely you can’t be coming out here to relieve yourself that many times. Wyll’s cooking isn’t that bad. And why haven’t you talked to me at all today? It’s very rude.” Looking into their eyes, which had softened out of surprise into their usual fair expression, Astarion realized he was scolding them for something he was upset about and took a deep breath before he apologized. “Look…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that...I don’t like secrets darling. So if something is wrong, or if I’ve done something incredibly foolish, just tell me so we can move on from it.”

“….it’s not really a secret…” Astarion arched a brow at their reply, then watched them move to the side to reveal a blanket, candles, and what looked like one of the better bottle of wine they’d abscond with from a pillaged merchant cart they rescued. “It was…more meant to be a surprise. To celebrate.”

Astarion was racking his brain at the moment to think on what they could be celebrating. Of course, every day they were alive, kicking, and not turned into mind flayers seemed a good enough reason to celebrate, but this seemed more formal than that. He tried to think about what it could be and then he suddenly realized. ‘Oh shit’. It was Blessed Hearts Day.

A frivolous feast day where lovers would croon and swoon at one another, give horrible tacky gifts, then drunkenly stumble down the streets to fuck like rabbits, which was probably the only reason it was on the cusp of spring.

Astarion had never paid much attention to it. Besides it being a frivolous holiday, he never had any reason to pay attention to it. Other than the fact that around this time of year he could pull in 2 or 3 victims a week, rather than his usual 1, for Cazador, if he played his cards right. Everyone was searching for love around this time of year, and Astarion was happy to provide.

Well, not happy, but obliging.

Well, not obliging, but amenable.

He never would have thought that someone as steadfast & stalwart as [Y/N] would be interested in something as foolish as Blessed Hearts Day. But, then again, he never asked. So who was the real fool here?

“I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t get you anything.”

“It’s alright.” They reply with a smile. And Astarion felt that it was very much not alright. They had given him so much, kept giving him so much, and he continued showing up empty handed at their door. He’d never felt so much like a cad. “This was just something I wanted to do. I’ve never…had someone…to share Blessed Hearts Day with.”

Suddenly he wished for the ground to open up like one of those portals and swallow him up. Astarion couldn’t feel any lower than if he was under Avernus. But then all their hard work would go to waste, and they couldn’t have that.

“Well, it seems we’re in agreement again my dear. I’ve never had someone to truly share the holiday with either. Pawns and playthings, sure. But a true someone,” Astarion stepped closer to press his hand against their cheek, “my someone, well…that will be a new experience for me. It seems every where I turn, you’re always giving me new experiences.”

They seemed pleased by his words. Which was good because that’s all he had at the moment to give them. And his heart. Such as it was.

They spent the evening together under the stars. Talking some, but mostly quiet. Falling into each other’s arms much later and wrapped up in their picnic blanket in the cool grass before the night was over. He still thought it was a frivolous holiday, as he intended to spend everyday reminding [Y/N] how much he loved & how much they had changed him, but he supposed he could see the appeal now.

[simping-overload]

ᴀ ᴛɪᴇꜰʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴀɪʟ - ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ

a/n: halsin with baby fever <3 make this man a daddy

tags: halsin, he wants kids so bad. gn reader, zevlor cameo, just fluff.

『read on ao3』

synopsis: Halsin watches as you interact with the children of the Grove.

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

The festival was bustling, children ran around and played whilst the adults drank the evening away. Bards sing their songs by the fire, occasionally starting sing-alongs.

Halsin sat separately, in a smaller, quieter corner, leaning against a wall as he watched over the party, making sure things won’t get too rowdy.

His gaze wonders over the crowd, looking for a familiar face before he lands on you. Sitting down on the ground and making flower crowns with the children. A child places one on top of your head, mindful of the horns.

The children braid and weave flowers along your tail and horns. Maybe at the right angle, you’d look like a statue wrapped in overgrown vines and plants.

Seeing you interact with the children stirs an all too familiar feeling in his chest, his desire for children of his own. Whether adopted or somehow biological, he wants ones of his own.

To see and hear the pitter patter of their tiny feet thumping against the wooden floor of your cozy home. Teaching them how to cook, clean, and maybe, if they wished, he can teach them the ways of the druids.

He’s already accustomed to the cries and screaming of children. Over the long years he has been alive, it’s safe to say he already knows how to handle it, especially when he took over as Arch druid of the Grove.

As much as he wants children, he doesn’t know if you wanted them. You never gave any indication if you did or didn’t.

Halsin tears his eyes away from you when he feels a nudge on his side. He turns his head, locking eyes with the person. It was Zevlor, a good friend of his.

“Something on your mind, Halsin?” The tiefling leader asks.

“Its—it’s not something to get into now, but how are you, friend?” Halsin tries to deflect the conversation away from him.

Zevlor raises a brow. “I’m well. The party is a bit more crowded than expected. Aside from that, don’t you dare try to change the topic. You’ve spent enough time of your life hiding your issues and feelings. Speak, my friend. I’m all ears.” Zevlor takes a sip of his wine.

“Do you think Tav and I would be good parents?” He suddenly blurts out, shoulders tensing at what he just said.

Zevlor grins. “I think you’d be one of the best parents in Faerûn.”

Halsin smiles at this, looking away from his friend and back at you.

“Though I would recommend waiting. Maybe a few years after the fame from your adventures, die down, and when you finally settle down. Did you ask them yet?”

Halsin chuckles nervously, “Well. No. I was waiting for a good time, but that moment never came.”

Zevlor huffed at this, smacking the druid’s calf with his tail. “Go ask.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Gods know you probably wouldn’t ask for another year! And look, they’re already on their way.. I’ll leave you to it.” Zevlor pats Halsin on the shoulder before slipping off.

Halsin watches as you approach, and by the Oak father, you look divine. The bear in him just wanted to ravish you more than and there. He pushes the feeling away as he pulls you into his warm embrace.

You wrap your arms around him, curling into him as you soak in his comforting warmth. Pulling back slightly, you look at your lover, adoration laced in your expression.

“Hi love.”

“Hello, my heart. I see you had quite the time for the children.” He brings a hand to the flower crown that lies on your head.

You chuckle, nodding, “Yeah, it got a little out of control.” You gesture to your tail. It had all kinds of flowers laced together covering it.

With a fond smile, he gently caresses your cheek with his hand. Pulling you forward, and presses a loving kiss to your lips. He faintly tastes like honeycomb and tobacco.

You shut your eyes, falling into the kiss. Getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours.

He reluctantly pulls away when the need for air becomes too strong. He settles to rest his foreheads against yours, looking into your eyes with a longing your’re oh-so familiar with. You can see his eyes flicker with uncertainty. It seems he’s having an internal conflict with himself.

“What’s on your mind, Halsin?” You ask, cupping his face in your palms so he can’t turn away.

He sucks in a breath before letting the words flow from his lips. “I have something to ask of you.”

[meowsgirldrawing]

POV- You disturbed 'nap-time'

[vixensmart]

That scene from Baldur's Gate 3 where you wake up and Astarion is trying to bite you, but instead of the options the game gives you, you just bite him back.

[angelltheninth]

Karlach Fucks You with Her Tail

Pairing: Karlach x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, biting, tail fucking, strength kink, marking, temperature play, clit stimulation, Reader being pinned down

A/N: Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.

You'd always wondered what Karlach's tail would feel like it it were fucking you

Who was she do deny you the curiosity

There had to be a lot of preparation before that happened because if not she could easily hurt you really bad

Since her tail is a pointy, but luckily not sharp she can slide it with little resistance when you've already had some stimulation

Usually she uses it to tap on your clit while she's eating you out and she can do that now too, while keeping pinned down under her because she knows how much you want this

If you're gonna be a brat she'll have to put in a little more strength into keeping you still

Being horny is no excuse for getting yourself hurt

When she pins you down under her it makes you want to struggle even more just to feel her power over you

You can feel the fire in her touch, in her lips as they smile against your skin, and yes, her tail as she pushes it inside of you

Makes you feel much more full then her fingers or tongue

But at the same time she needs to thrust slowly to not hurt you

Another thing she can do is keep her tail still inside of you so your pussy isn't empty while she rubs warm circles on your clit

She actually really grows to like this more then she thought, being inside you and feeling you squeeze around her, able to get deeper then she could before, feeling every soft, spongey inch of your walls around her sensitive tail

[lady-ashfade]

The Sketch Of Sin.

Astarion Ancunín x Artist!Reader Drabble

I have not played the game yet so forgive if I get anything wrong, this is just based off of the things I have seen.

Warnings; Suggestive, Teasing, me just being a simp, s*xual themes, just him being him.

Astarion has always allured people in on his looks, his past making it known he was attractive. The cocky man says so many times just how hot he is and how he could have anyone on their knees. But...He often wonders what he actually looks like. It's been forever since he’s actually saw himself in the reflection that he forgot what he truly looked like.

Days after fighting and traveling through the world, wounds and brushes covered your body as you ache from exhaustion. The arts are what you relax with in your tent to take the worlds weight off your shoulders. Many sketches, of the many views you have encountered over the months or people you surround yourself with filled the thick pages. You tried to keep it hidden from others of the talent you possessed, so you hid the book underneath your pillow.

Of course, it didn't stay hidden with astarion visiting your tent. He had a urge to visit you and he did just that, needing to see his pet that made him very happy. Much to his disappointment you were no where in sight. A sigh left his lips and walks towards your bed to await for your arrival. He threw himself of the bed and crossed his feet, smirking as he thought of your sweet face being surprised.

His hand reached underneath the pillow to give him some support but something hard hit his skin. Frowning his brows in confusion he took ahold of the object and pulled it out, a book now resting in his hands. "What is this?" He asked with a amused tone, hoping it was a diary of some sort. Astarion was impatient as he yanks the book open waiting to see the words written but non met his eyes, only scratches.

Beautiful artwork.

His amusement turned to awe at the thought of you being this talented. He looked through the pages and remembered each place you had drawn, but your eyes saw them in a much brighter light. Then he saw the companions he worked with, all of them smiling and in heavy details. He was sucked in and couldn't take his eyes away from the book, you were magnificent.

His fingers turned the page and he was met with someone so familiar yet unknowing. With each detail he took in he began to realize it was him he was looking at, more pretty then he remembered. Was this what he looked like? Or, was this how you saw him? His chest filled with confidence and pride.

He heard the flapping sound of the tent opening and he looked up to see you, his pretty little pet. Your face widen in surprise for a moment and then to the book in his hands, him loving every second. You had not a clue of what to do. "Darling, come and sit." He leaned up to pat the place next to him.

"What do you have?" You asked taking a few steps forward and he could tell they were slowed and hesitated. He chuckled, taking his eyes away from you and back to the book. "Clearly something you don't want me to have." His smirk only grew as you huffed and crossed your arms, glaring at him.

“Don't be that way, you left it all alone- Not even a good hiding spot. Tsk tsk, thought you'd know better.” You flushed and hopped onto the bed to take it from him, but failed miserably. His arm pushed you back and his other holding the book away from you. His laugh filled the tent and warmed your ears, but not taking you away from the embarrassing moment.

"Give it back.” You demanded. A thin line on your lips as your eyes dimmed down, along with the brows above meeting them halfway. “And way would I do that?" He was having too much fun messing with you by the sound in his voice. He was teasing you.

"Come on, it's private and I want it-" stopping your sentence he pressed his lips to yours and grabbed ahold on your chin with two fingers. As mad as you were at him... His affection was never worth giving up. He pulled away only a inch from your lips and breaths against them, "You captured me quite well, my darling pet."

The compliment made your cheeks feel warm and body tempered rise up at the praise. He was aware of the effects he had on you, even the slightest of ways. His hands meet your chest and push you back onto the bed, his body moving away from you and off the bed. You mumbled in confusion but he shh'd you.

"I want to pose for the next one." You watch him undo the shirt he had on ever so slowly then push it above his head. No matter how many times you see his body it always leaves you wanting more, to worship the ground he walks on. He eyes found yours as he reached just below the top of his pants, a glint of mischief shining in his pupils.

"Think you can handle that, little pet?"

[fandomnerd9602]

I'm not sure if you know Percy Jackson but I'd like to see Karlach meeting a reader who is the child of Hephestios and as a result, is entirely fire proof and can fix her engine with no problem or even replace it. Thanks!

Karlach: you're so amazing

Y/N: aw it's nothing really. Just my tools and talent

Y/n rubs their neck...

Karlach: can I hold your hand?

Y/N: i'm completely fireproof so yeah

Y/N gently takes Karlach's hand...

Karlach: I like holding your hand, it feels...right.