#karlach is their get along shirt

[hiddenbeks]

hmm. what if khaless x minthy canon actually

[frantic-fiction]

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

[galacticgraffiti]

❁ Sugar (I've developed a taste for you) ❁

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: Astarion asks for a favour and ends up getting more than what he bargained for (or: I'm a lesbian but this fictional little vampire twink can get it)

Rating: Explicit (for eventual smut) Wordcount: 2.4k Descriptors: I try to keep my reader-inserts fairly neutral, but let me know if anything slips through the cracks! Astarion is his usual self, pathetic and awful yet somehow also lovable as fuck. CW: bad flirting, friends with benefits (and the benefit is bloodsucking lol), blood, blood drinking, biting, hint of praise kink, eventual proper smut, nicknames, so much innuendo

✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺

Chapter 1: My my, those eyes like fire

He could be lovely if he wasn’t so self-involved.

That is the first thought you have when you meet Astarion. He is not downright mean, but something about him just bugs you. He flirts with every creature on two legs (sometimes even those with more), but that’s not it.

Something about all his honeyed words just feels so… insincere. 

You think Astarion has something to hide, and you desperately want to know what it is. So far, he has shown no signs of weakness, and he is as much as self-entitled twat as when you first met him. And this continues to be your opinion of him… up until today.

The day has been hard. Your feet hurt, your hands have blisters, and you are smeared with blood pretty much all over. Your shirt has been ripped and frankly, you don’t know when you might find the time to mend it. There is a giant bloodstain on the thigh of your trousers, and you are pretty sure your hair has become completely encrusted in blood quite some time ago.

But you have made it back to camp and that is all that counts.

As you shake out your bedroll and try to ignore the fact that this is the seventh night in a row that you’ll have had bland stew for dinner, you catch Astarion’s eyes across the fire.

His gaze is… odd.

You have seen him in the heat of battle, you’ve seen the glint in his eye when he comes up with another of his devious plans. You’ve even seen him amused, shaking with laughter when Gale recited an - admittedly very ambiguous - poem to you.

But you have never seen him like this. It’s not affection, nor is it desire that lights up his delicate features. He almost looks… desperate. Like he is starving for something, and you can’t place your finger on what it is.

As soon as Astarion notices that you have caught him, his eyes flick away. He saunters off, way too casual to not be obvious about it.

You stare after him, vaguely confused. But then, Karlach makes her way over to ask for more stew, and you forget all about it. For the moment.

Her smile makes your belly flutter, and you wish you knew more about her, and so you do your best to make conversation, joking and asking shallow questions.

Astarion’s eyes haunt you through dinner.

Even though the day was exhausting, the nights in your little camp are starting to grow on you. Gale is funny in his own, book-wormish way. You have learned that Karlach is downright hilarious in her joy about the world outside of Avernus, and Wyll is always scandalised by her, which is admittedly quite fun to watch. Lae’zel and Shadowheart keep to themselves a bit more, but even they share the meals with the rest of you.

You laugh when Karlach imitates Wyll’s horrified expression, but in spite of yourself. your eyes keep wandering to the silver hair of your elven companion who is sitting across from you.

Astarion is staring at you again, his eyes focused on some point below your jaw. He is watching you intently, seemingly unaware you have caught him. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away - he just stares at you as your spoon scrapes along the bottom of your bowl.

Only when you get up to wash off before you go to bed does he move again.

Sometimes, Astarion reminds you of a scared animal in the way he moves, his eyes flicking back and forth, his hands trembling slightly whenever he is not in battle. He hides right out in the open, behind his swagger and his dirty jokes and innuendos, behind his beautiful face and his beautiful body.

Tonight, though, even in all his desperation, Astarion is not prey. He is a predator. And like any talented predator, he has managed to get his prey away from the protection of the group.

You are kneeling in the small stream that runs by the camp, washing your bowl, your clothes, yourself - everything is dirty and soaked in mud, sweat and blood. You are barely wearing anything, but your companions have seen you in much more precarious situations at this point.

Astarion approaches quietly, sneaking up on you in that manner where you can never tell whether it is intentional or not. He is just… there, suddenly, shedding his clothes next to you, blood still smeared on his pale skin.

He stops short of the water, watching you from the riverbank. You try not to gawk as he undresses, but something about him seems unusually anxious. The way he pushes hit foot forward so slowly, testing the water, makes you wonder if he might not know how to swim.

Astarion smiles suddenly, taking a step into the stream and towards you, then another, his smile growing the deeper he wades into the water. Dark red streaks appear in the water where the blood is washed from his pale skin.

He clears his throat and raises a sharp brow.

“And how are you feeling tonight, sweet thing?” he inquires. His eyes flick over your body, focusing on a point below your ear for a moment before he rips his gaze away again.

“‘M alright,” you answer, brow furrowed as you scrub your shirt a little harder than you actually need to. Why he has to be so infuriating with his nicknames, you’ll never know. “Today was… a lot. I wanted to have a quiet moment.”

“Ah.”

He doesn’t seem to get the hint. He merely wades further into the stream, shimmering pearls of water running down his back. When you don’t say anything else, he turns to face you once again.

“Are you not going to ask me how I am, darling?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, throwing your shirt to the side, Clearly, you’re not getting anywhere with it tonight.

“Tsk, so rude. Somebody should really teach you some manners.” He clicks his tongue at you like you are an insubordinate child, shaking his head until droplets hit you.

You press your lips together. If he wasn’t so beautiful, he wouldn’t get away with half the things he does, and it frustrates you to no end. You catch yourself forgiving him on occasions where you don’t mean to, simply because his face is the prettiest things you have ever seen, and you hate it.

Astarion watches you carefully, gauging your mood. You stare back at him defiantly. What the hell could he want from you, anyway?

The hunger in his eyes is back, you notice - that desperation that you can’t quite place. There is a pained expression around his mouth, and despite all his cockiness, he is clearly not doing entirely well - his skin even paler than usual, his hands shaking a little when he crosses his arms.

Astarion yawns, his gaze raking over you in a way that makes you shiver. You tell yourself it’s just the cold of the water.

“Well, I was going to ask you for your help, but you are in a terrible mood.” He inspects his fingernails, and even though you know exactly that he is baiting you, you can’t help yourself.

“You? Need my help? Never thought the day would come.” Your voice is biting, but you can’t hide the note of curiosity that sneaks in.

“Don’t make me out to be such a horrible companion.” Astarion takes a step closer to you through the water. You take a step back. He laughs, but his eyes catch on your neck again. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

You shrug.

“Sometimes you are.”

“Hm.” He raises his brows, and takes another step towards you. This time, you don’t step back. “Well, I suppose that can’t be helped, my love. We all have good and bad days, don’t we?” He cocks his head. “And today has been quite hard for me.”

You make a non-committal noise, staring him down. What in the hells is he trying to do? Seduce you?

Your body likes that thought much more than your mind does.

Astarion is watching you intently. He stretches out his hand to take yours, and in your surprise, you don’t even pull back. His thumb rests right against the delicate inside of your wrist, and he closes his eyes.

You wait for him to drone on about how he carried your group on the battlefield, to gloat that you now owe him your life seven times over, but he doesn’t. Astarion stays eerily still, breathing deeply as his thumb strokes your wrist, pressing against your pulse point.

You can’t keep quiet any longer, not with the odd way he is behaving. Maybe he got hit by a spell, or…

“Any reason today was particularly hard for you?” You meant to sound sarcastic, but the question comes out sounding sincere. You scold yourself for caring so much.

Your skin burns like fire where he is touching you. Astarion’s eyes open, and he looks at you like he was a million miles away. He is so close now - much closer than you realised. You can see the fiery ring around his irises.

“I…” To your surprise, his voice is hesitant and quiet. “It’s easier to just… show you. You see, I need something from you, my darling.”

You frown.

“Why ask me? You could ask any of us, and most of them would be more inclined to help than I am. I’ve seen the way that Gale watches you at the fire-”

“Gale?” Astarion sounds genuinely amused. “Darling, do you think I’m asking you for sexual favours right now?”

“I- yes?” Your voice is full of uncertainty. “I mean… is that not what you were going to say?”

Astarion smiles, small and sharp.

“No.” He is even closer to you now, his thumb still caressing the skin of your wrist. “Even though I would not be disinclined if you offered… you are quite beautiful, you know?”

“Mh. Thank you?” You wish your heart would not beat faster at the way he looks at you. It’s a look that doesn’t fit the words that fall from his lips, a look that betrays the desperation with which he needs this favour. “What-”

“What I am asking for is simple.” He is so close now he could kiss you if you leaned in. “All I want is… a taste.”

“I- what?”

His lips are on your neck, his hand in your hair. You are not quite sure when that happened.

“Say yes, sweet thing,” he breathes. “Just a taste of your blood and-”

“My blood?” You sound more distraught than you actually feel. You are… oddly resigned. You should have seen this coming - you knew something was up with him, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

And now, here you are. With a fucking vampire. His lips graze your pulse point, and your heart beats faster. You can feel the heat of his breath when he utters a single word.

“Please.”

It’s that one word that changes everything. Just like that, he has you. All the arrogance, all the superiority is gone from his voice, and what is left is just hunger and the fear that you might reject him. For a moment, you are sure you must have imagined it, but then, Astarion repeats himself.

“Please.” His hand tightens around your wrist, though he is trembling more than you are. “Just a taste, no more.”

Your lips are numb when you answer, your mind screaming at you not to let him- this is dangerous, this is stupid- you have already lost so much blood in the fight today and-

“Yes.” Your hands are on his shoulders, then in his silver hair. He smells so good; even after this horrid day. Your voice is softer than you intend for it to be, but his desperation makes you weak. “If you need it, it’s yours.”

Astarion makes a sound that shatters you, and before you can think too much about your own colossal stupidity, his fangs sink into your neck. 

It’s not painful.

It’s uncomfortable, but the fear that bites into your heart ebbs after mere seconds. Astarion’s hands are surprisingly warm against you, keeping you upright. Your head falls to the side, granting him easier access and - oh.

Why does it feel so good?

You become acutely aware of your blood flowing from the small puncture wounds in your neck, and for a moment, you panic, stiffening in Astarion’s arms.

“There, there, sweet thing.” His lips don’t raise an inch from your neck. “It’s alright, just trust me. Just a taste, all I want is a taste…”

Your head is swimming.

“You have tasted me,” you whisper, trying to pull away. When you look into Astarion’s eyes, there is a red glint in them - and a sadness that overwhelms you.

“No taste of you will ever be enough.” Astarion looks up at you from beneath long lashes. “You are divine, my love.”

The tip of his tongue wets his lips, licking up the small droplets of blood that linger.

You stare at him, trying with all your might to focus.

“You said… just a taste. No more than you need.”

His finger traces your jaw, down your neck, and your whole body is on fire.

“If it were up to me, I would need all of you,” Astarion sighs, his lips on your neck again, his tongue lapping at the blood that flows from the wound he has given you. “I would take and take, and give you so much in return. I would have you in ways you did not even know you wanted. Taste everything you have to offer.”

You shiver when he raises your wrist to his mouth, soft lips pressing to delicate skin.

“I would cherish you, keep you. My little pet, so perfect, so beautiful in every way. So eager to give what I need. Would you give me more if I asked?”

“Of course,” your lips say even though those were not the words you were planning to utter. But how could you ever say no to him? “If that’s what you need.”

Astarion’s sigh is one of rapture and delight.

“So obedient for me… You know, all these days I thought you hated me.” He chuckles to himself. “I suppose even I can be wrong sometimes.”

His teeth sink back into your neck, and the world goes dark.

༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺

>> Next Chapter

HELLO MY DOVES i finally found time to format this for tumblr so here you go, for those who are not in love with the bear, you can get the twink, as a treat.

@deewithani @ficsbynight @kote-wan @ariadnes-red-thread @rescuethewretched @twistedstitcher27 @kakashibabe02 @writingbylee @purgetrooperfox @basilbumble @witchklng @lackofhonor @ashotofspotchka @sailor-blossom @misogirl828 @amyroswell @darkjedipoptarts @pinkiemme @sleepingsun501 @fett-djarin @samanthacookieone @tortor-mcgee @corrabell @queen--kenobi @elegantduckturtle @felinaone @palpipeen @wild-karrde @obeydontstray @nomercyforthewarrior @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @thefact0rygirl @everythingyouwanted @equalityforcats @cagrame @ladykatakuri @snakerune @shadesofshatteredblue @100lxtters @damerondala @tachyon-girl @rintheemolion @pickleprickle @mando-amando @certified-anakinfucker @baba-fett @ulchabhangorm

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Triple Dog Dare You (Astarion x F!Reader) (Part 2 to Pinkie Promise)

CW: Angst, mentions of trauma, mentions of sexual trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of parental death, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of voyeurism

Both titles have been inspired by the song ‘School Nights’ by Chappell Roan

Dedicated to @amica-aenigmata-naboo - thank you for demanding a part two 😂

Part 1: Pinkie Promise?

✨this has been proof read once and I have been awake and working since 3 am. It is not 10:04 pm. Please help✨

You finish your letter by folding it into thirds and then writing ‘Star’ on the back. You take a deep breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth- reminding yourself that you already know he likes you back, you are just taking that last extra little step. You also can’t attempt to write this letter again- this is your 8th draft, the others turning into flames in your hands very quickly.

You want to ask Astarion to be in a serious relationship with you. You have only been seeing each other (as far as you know) and you’ve spent almost everyday sleeping with him in his tent since you had ventured into the Underdark. Most of the time- you don’t even have sex. You stay up talking together and sharing soft kisses- no clothes, just intimacy. You adore those moments immensely.

Life around camp has also been good- everyone is finally beginning to get along. Shadowheart and Lae’zel even silently respect each other now. It feels like one big happy family and you are grateful for them when this whole journey feels far too big and scary.

Recently, you and your crew have been playing an ongoing game of “Triple Dog Dare”. The only rule is you can’t dare someone in the middle of a battle or a serious mission. Otherwise- it’s all fair game and if you decline to do it, you have to take the darers’ guard duty or help them with a chore. The chores were limited to one task and it can’t be taking down a whole tent + equipment- the one time Astarion had to take down Gale’s tent had been disastrous. The dare had been to allow Gale to take you on a date- Astarion shot back with a “I triple dog dare you to swallow my fucking knife wizard.” All parties (minus Astarion) agreed that this dare was not to be followed through on.

The game has had… less than favorable results. Watching Wyll and Karlach streak across the camp while you were piss drunk was awful. Oh and the time Gale almost died because Wyll dared him to spy on the two of you for 20 minutes. You hadn’t heard his thoughts, but Astarion had. His head had shot up from between your legs with a furious look in his eyes. Astarion had covered your naked frame up quickly with his shirt (his trousers still on) and chased after Gale until he pushed the man into the freezing Underdark water.

The group then had to make a few more rules people didn’t realize they had to make. In Gale’s defense- Wyll didn’t specify and Wyll is a real snob about which chore he gives the person. It’s also the worst chore and usually includes de-stinking his boots. You are almost positive Wyll does this on purpose as repayment for all the headaches this groups’ shenanigans has given him-oh and the horns.

Karlach triple dog dared you today to finally confess your feelings to Astarion. You had gawked at her and then dared her to do the same with Dammon. You shook on it and it was done.

Finding out that Astarion’s life is in far more danger than any of them had realized shook you to your core. You are tired of wasting time being afraid to ask him what you already know (or at least hope you know). You are silently grateful that Karlach has given you the push you needed (you doubt she would have actually made you do anything- she wouldn’t put you on blast like that).

It just never felt like the right time in the past. Having your life be in constant danger is kind of a romance killer and you aren’t sure how the hell you are supposed to do this.

Do you court him? Do you ask him to court you?

You ultimately settled on just flat out telling him your feelings- politics be damned. It’s not like you were welcome in High Society anyway.

Now you are in the safety of Last Light Inn and it feels like the right time to bring this up. You worry that waiting any longer will result in him looking for someone more serious or maybe you would always just be a person he slept with during the journey to his freedom.

You hope you are more than that and you are almost positive you are. The way he looks at you, kisses you, and talks to you is so genuine- his eyes are always so soft and so are his lips. He protects you and you protect him. You adore him and you think he adores you too.

So naturally, walking up behind him and Shadowheart talking isn’t a nerve wracking endeavor to you. This is all going to go off without a hitch!

Or so you thought.

Your ears twitch and you barely hear what they say to each other, but you do. Gods you wish you hadn’t.

“You are insufferable, Cleric.” Astarion groans, “I already told you my answer.”

“Oh please- you follow them around like a lovesick puppy. You can’t honestly tell me you have absolutely no feelings for them.”

Shadowheart takes a long sip of her pint and raises an eyebrow at him. You remain in the shadow- your heart thumping out of your chest. Maybe he’ll say a lot of wonderful things about you? Maybe your hopes will be-

“Nope, not a single feeling outside of my carnal desires,” he says nonchalantly, “that’s all it’s been and they know that.”

Oh.

You feel all the air leave your lungs as you crumple your letter and shove it in your pocket. You don’t know why you insist on listening further.

“Then I triple dog dare you to go talk to someone and take them to bed. You will have no problem bedding that Harper who keeps giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes- I’m sure.”

Oh please no.

“You offend me- that’s hardly a challenge,” he says while standing up, sauntering over to the Harper that is eyeing him.

You promptly turn around and hurry out of the building. You can’t breathe. You should have known better.

You had always been Tav the Guillable, the Plain, the Insufferable, etc, etc. You had been thrown at your aunt and uncle when your parents passed. Your aunt and uncle lived in a nice Human only city and you are a ‘filthy half-breed.’

One of the boys in your Archery class found out you had a crush on him so he asked you to meet him by the river. You showed up with wild flowers for him- something your mother told you Wood Elf’s do to show affection. He showed up with your entire class- all of them laughing at you for being stupid enough to believe he liked you and then his future partner beat the shit out of you before throwing you into the rushing water. You wished you hadn’t survived, but a nice family who was tolerant towards Half breeds saved you. Your Aunt and Uncle were pissed. Admittedly, so were you.

They treated you terribly- constantly trying to marry you off to old men who you would turn away with your boorish behavior.

You really thought you had it right this time. Everything felt so natural and right- like you had been made for each other. What did you not pick up on? What did you miss this whole time? How could you have been so blind?

You pick up your bedroll on the way out- you were all going to sleep on the floor of the inn with the rest of the Harpers and Refugees, but you couldn’t pretend you wanted to be near Astarion like he does with you. You aren’t ready to confront him- you aren’t ready for the pretty illusion to be completely shattered and swept under the rug yet. You were just getting used to being someone he loved and now the whole world is crumbling underneath you.

It was barely anything- obviously- so why does it hurt this much?

You find yourself in front of Damon’s metal shop and he’s talking to Karlach. You clear your throat and they both look at you. Karlach suddenly looks concerned when she sees the look on your face.

“Could I sleep above your shop tonight?” You say with a strained voice, “behind the hay? I just… need to be alone.”

“Sure thing- it’s all yours.”

You smile gratefully at him and begin to climb up the ladder.

“Do you want me to tell Fangs, Soldier?”

You can hear the question in her voice. She is your best friend after all.

“No- please don’t,” you smile at her sadly, “I would prefer he doesn’t know where I am.”

Karlach nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, and you go behind the hay and lay out your bedroll. It smells like him and you don’t know if that’s helping or hurting at this point, but you are mostly too tired to care.

Your heart hurts as you try to find sleep. You throw the crumpled note across the little loft and silently begin to cry.

At least you knew what it felt to give and receive love- even if it was false and unrequited the entire time.

*****************************************

Astarion is barely present for the conversation with the Harper male who is trying to impress him into bed. Astarion is only thinking of you and how much he wants to get this over with so you can find a more secluded spot together. Every morning to every night feels like far too long to wait to have a tender moment with you.

Astarion imagines leaving lingering kisses along your collar bones and your cheeks. He thinks about how he desperately needs to rebraid your hair. It’s been frizzy and unruly from all the fog- the baby hairs sticking out all over the place. He also needs to patch up your armor again- your Meilikki Cleric Armor ripped apart from the events of yesterday.

Mostly though, he wants to spend the off day tomorrow with just you. Astarion wants to find somewhere to hide or even just rent a room so that you can just be in each other’s presence un interrupted by the world. Astarion’s heart glows at the thought of the sexless intimacy you share. He’s so happy it’s not a priority to you- it’s allowed him to do things at his own pace and as he wants to which is very freeing to him.

Astarion had finally admitted to himself that his plan had well and truly failed- he has fallen for you very hard.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to lie to Shadowheart. He mostly just didn’t want to be pressured to leap forward. Astarion isn’t sure if you want to be something real with him and he also doesn’t know if you are hell bent on being a proper noble woman who marries a proper noble man. It would break his heart if you rejected him and Astarion has no desire to feel that way. For now, Astarion will bask in his peaceful ignorance.

The Harper man eventually scowls at Astarion and tells him to fuck off if he isn’t interested. Astarion goes back to Shadowheart with an annoyed look on his face.

“Fine- you win, Cleric,” Astarion scowls, “I have feelings for them. I couldn’t even give that man a moment of my attention because I couldn’t stop thinking about them so if you will excuse me-“

Shadowheart squeals in delight and Astarion rolls his eyes. Astarion walks around the entire inn and property- you are nowhere to be found. Astarion is beginning to become more and more worried. Astarion is pacing out front when Karlach and Dammon come up to the Inn- ready to hit the sack.

“Karlach,” Astarion says, a bit more panicked than he means to, “where is Tav? I’ve been looking for them everywhere and I can’t find them!”

Karlach looks suddenly uncomfortable and like she definitely knows where you are.

“Karlach if you know where Tav is-“

“I do!” She says exasperated, “but they specifically asked that you don’t know and I don’t blame them! You gonna go fuck them and pretend to have feelings for them again for the billionth time?”

Astarion is stock still and horribly confused. What in the hells is she talking about? Karlach shoves a piece of crumpled paper into his hands and shakes her head at him.

“You know- if you are going to fuck with someone’s feelings,” Karlach tries to keep her patience, “maybe don’t pick the nicest person in the room. Honestly Fangs- fuck you. I thought you were better than that.”

Astarion is at a loss for words- which is very rare for him. He slowly unfolds the note- hoping it might put some of the pieces together.

Star,

I have really come to enjoy your company and our time together.

I am quite smitten with you and I’m too nervous to say this out loud, but I would like to be able to call you my partner (in a romantic sense)- if you return my feelings, that is.

If not, no worries. All I want is for you to be happy.

-Tav

The pieces click together like a haunting tune.

You had heard everything that was said between him and Shadowheart. Obviously you didn’t stick around for the important part, but Gods you must be heartbroken.

Astarion has to assume you were hiding somewhere in Damon’s shop if Karlach is the one who knows where you are. He had been avoiding the shop initially so that Karlach could have her privacy with Dammon. Now it’s fair game.

Astarion quickly walks towards the shop and as soon as he enters- his ears pick up your quiet sobbing. Your thoughts are loud and unguarded- his words playing in your head over and over again. You are wondering why you aren’t good enough. Astarion finally sees what you have refused to show him- your parents are long gone, despite the fact that you talk about them as if they are waiting for you to come home. Your Aunt, Uncle, cousins, and an entire society have rejected you, humiliated you, and belittled you. This just happens to be the salt in the wound. You keep looping through the thought of how stupid you are to have missed this of all damn things. How could you even begin to think he would actually want you? Plain, boring, ugly, half-breed Tav.

Oh my Darling, what have I done?

Shadowheart had been teasing him relentlessly ever since you had all arrived back to the safety of Last Light Inn. You had led them all to support Astarion in finding out more about the scars carved into his back. It had been incredibly dangerous and Shadowheart had had to heal him more than usual- he kept putting himself between you and every bomb, warrior, etc. He wanted her to stop- he likes the privacy of his little world with you.

Now he’s demolished that world and your heart in less than an hour. Astarion was actually nervous earlier- realizing how deep his feelings for you are and how much he wants something real with you. He just isn’t close enough with Shadowheart to share those feelings out loud willingly. Astarion is thrilled that you feel the same way, but now he isn’t sure he can convince you that his feelings are genuine and not a giant lie.

Astarion slowly makes his way up the ladder and he hears your sobbing stop- one single sniffle occurring before silence.

“Darling?” he asks quietly.

The air is tense and Astarion feels more nervous than a school boy with a crush. You hiccup.

“Astarion.”

Your voice is strained and cracks- he can hear the effort you put into trying to make your voice sound steady and normal.

You are definitely not happy with him. You usually address him as Star when he first arrives in your orbit.

Astarion takes it as a good sign that you are at least willing to speak with him.

“It’s come to my attention that you may have overheard a conversation without context and without staying until the end,” Astarion says slowly, “I was hoping you might let me explain myself.”

You sit up gingerly, your head bent, and look up at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen- you often worry it between your teeth when you are upset. He doesn’t like when you are upset, but he does love how incredibly delicious it makes your lips look. Your skin is under a veil of tears and your cheeks are stained pink from you rubbing away the sadness from your face. It’s unfair how beautiful a crier you are.

Astarion decides to go against his better judgement and he crawls towards you. You look at him with a guarded expression, but you don’t fight him as he pulls you into his lap- his fingers moving the hair out of your face and wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks.

“Shadowheart was teasing me for being… overly concerned with your safety today,” Astarion begins, “I just didn’t want to- her and I aren’t close enough for me to-“

Astarion huffs in frustration and looks down at the floor momentarily before making direct eye contact with you. He decides to use the tadpole- maybe showing will make more sense than explaining.

Astarion shows you his original intentions of manipulating you- his musings over your beauty, but your aggravating naivety and the annoyance at your persistent kindness. He feels you flinch a little, but your body begins to relax against his as you watch his feelings change. Astarion lets you see all of his jealousy, confusion, fear, and adoration for you. He even lets you see his turmoil during sex. Astarion enjoys himself with you- more than he’s ever enjoyed himself with anyone, but the self-loathing and disgust pose a challenge during intimate moments.

Lastly, Astarion shows you how scared he is to lose you. He lets the feeling consume him and he feels like he’s a rope ready to snap at any moment. His mind wanders to how much he doesn’t ever want to have to miss you- the beautiful moments you have shared together and how much joy you have brought to his life. You make him want to be a better person- well at least in your presence. Astarion would do just about anything for you.

You press your forehead to his and release a relieved sigh. Astarion pulls you in for a deep, tender kiss. The kiss is needy, but not in a sexual way. Astarion needs you to know that he really does adore you- his affections are absolutely not fake.

He finally has to pull back to let you breathe and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You make me so so happy, Darling,” Astarion whispers tearfully, “I really don’t want to lose you.”

“Star, I adore you for all the sentimental reasons,” your eyes sparkle as you look at him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Astarion tries not to show how relieved he is, but the way his shoulders slump gives him away.

“We don’t have to have sex, you know,” you say quietly, “I can wait until you are ready. I want you to be happy and feel loved more than anything.”

Astarion is surprised by the choked sob that escapes his lips- pulling you in closer.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“Yeah well,” you pull back and smile at him, “I triple dog dare you to prioritize your wants and needs first!”

Astarion rolls his eyes at you and tries to hide the grateful tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You are his most favorite person across all the planes. He is so grateful for you, your patience, and how much you try to understand him so that you can support his healing from centuries of abuse.

“Cheeky pup.”

You grin widely, “the cheekiest.”

“Hmmm well,” Astarion slyly smirks, “if we are going to play this childish game…”

You pout, jutting your lower lip out. Astarion places a chaste kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.

“I triple dog dare you to be something real with me.”

Astarion’s nerves are going haywire- praying to every God he can think of that you still want to be serious with him.

Your smile could light up the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands. You give him a short sweet kiss on the cheek and A kunik*.

“Dare accepted.”

*A kunik means nose kiss in Inuit

[bigsoupspoon]

A Night To Remember

Summary: *Spoiler* After temporarily fixing Karlach’s engine, you gift her a night that’s been long overdue.

Pairing: Karlach x Gender Neutral Reader,

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing,

Word Count: 2200 approx.

Rating: Explicit – If you are under 18, please do not read.

Note: I haven’t completed Karlach’s romance yet so I’m unsure of how it actually plays out.

“So did it…work?” Karlach asked cautiously.

“Only one way to find out.” Dammon responds.

Karlach’s eyes meet yours, she looks both hopeful and worried. But without much hesitation, you pull her into a tight hug. Your arms wrap around her shoulders, and hers around your middle. You lean your head into her neck and give her a squeeze.

You stay in the hug for several seconds, wanting to give Karlach more than just a quick embrace. When you start to move apart, your hands linger on each other, not wanting to completely let go. Her eyes connect with yours, and you can’t help but glance at her lips. She notices, and does the same.

You bring your hand to cup her cheek, her hands haven’t left your waist, you lean in and tilt her chin towards you. Karlach complies, leaning into a deep kiss. You both hold the kiss for several moments, finally able to touch one another after what feels like an eternity of tension. You part ways, and she whispers a quiet “thank you” in your ear.

Suddenly you remember where you are, standing in front of Dammon and your companions. Halsin and Astarion stand close by, watching the sparks fly between you both.

“How sweet it is to share such affection in these trying times.” Halsin admires.

“And don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show.” Astarion smugly adds.

Karlach stands up straight and lets you go, still feeling the emotions of getting to touch you for the first time. She seems mildly flustered, bashful at the least, not knowing what to say next.

“How about we call it a day and head back to camp?” You suggest, the rest agree, it already becoming late in the afternoon anyway. For the rest of the day, you and Karlach catch each other exchanging glances, your arm might just brush hers when standing close together. The tension grows stronger each hour that passes.

Once the sun begins to fall below the horizon, everyone in camp starts settling in for the night. As you walk yourself over to Karlach’s tent, she smiles upon seeing you.

“Hey soldier,” She greets, excited to have your company.

“Karlach, what do you say we spend the evening together, tonight?” You ask.

“Yes, yes!” She cheers, “I was hoping we could spend some time together.”

You take a step closer, mere inches away, “Shall we leave now?”

You reach you hand to hold hers, Karlach accepts the embrace and intertwines her fingers with yours.

“I think I can manage that.” She smiles.

Karlach starts walking and you move beside her, her hand still in yours. Astarion passes you on your way out of camp.

“Have fun,” He whispers wickedly, shooting you both a devilish grin.

After a short period of walking, you arrive at a clearing with a slow-moving river. The area is small and peaceful, and private. The soft grass grows along the bank, full of clover and tiny wildflowers. The moon is now out in full view, reflecting on the rippled water.

“Can I kiss you again?” Karlach asks, her hand still holding yours. You turn to face her, and gently place a hand on her cheek.

“I’d like nothing more.” She pulls you in and presses her lips upon yours, the kiss is strong and passionate. Karlach wraps her arms around your middle and pulls you closer, your free hand now clinging to her shoulder.

The minutes pass by, it feels like you haven’t taken a single breath, kissing Karlach felt more important. You try to break the kiss, but Karlach pulls you back in for just one more. She keeps you close and rests her forehead on yours.

You take Karlach’s hands and place them on your waist, you slowly lift off your shirt, so your top half is completely bare. Karlach drinks you in, mesmerized by your body. You reach around her back and gently lift her shirt.

“Is this okay?” You ask, Karlach responds with an excited hum.

You lift off her shirt and drop it beside you, taking a step closer so your bodies are pressed together. She is warm, and inviting, her lips find yours again for just a moment. Chest to chest never felt so good, the skin-on-skin contact lighting a fire within you.

Your hands find the top of her pants, and you run your fingers along her waistline. Karlach’s breath hitches as you painfully slowly pull the drawstring on her pants, softly pulling them down below her thighs until they drop to the ground.

As you remove your own as well, you then take Karlach’s hand and lead her into the cool river. Around waist deep, you stop and dip under the water, drenching your hair and returning to the surface. Karlach lowers herself until the water reaches her shoulders.

As you both wade closer to each other, you maneuver your legs so Karlach’s thighs sit firmly on top of yours, holding her in place around her hips.

She looks down at you and smiles, before leaning into another passionate kiss. How peaceful the moment is as you embrace each other, the river flows by and the moonlight illuminates the water.

“Let me take care of you, Karlach.” You propose, whispering gently in her ear.

“I’d really like that.” She whispers back.

With a single brush of your fingers across her hip and up her sternum, Karlach tilts her head back, the touch starvation agony running rampant through her veins at this point. She bites back her tongue from ushering you to speed things up, and lets you slowly roam her body.

You drag your hands from around her waist up until you gently cup her breasts. Her eyes are gently squeezed shut and stifling small moans, eager to escape her lips. With a singular flick of your thumbs across her nipples, she lets out an audible groan.

“You’re so beautiful, Karlach,” You whisper in her ear, before lowering your head to place her nipple on your tongue, your hand gently rolling the other one between your thumb and forefinger. Her moans become more audible, and a little less controlled, her body growing more eager each second that passes.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I am feeling a little…impatient.” Karlach says. And with that, you lead her out of the water, to the grassy bank.

“Lay down,” You propose, and as Karlach does so, you kneel at her feet.

You begin to plant small kisses on one ankle, and slowly, tantalisingly slowly, trail them up her leg, her breathing now small, sharp breaths, anticipation earnestly flooding her veins. As you reach the top of her inner thigh, you can see her slit already beautifully glistening with her wetness.

You look up at her, her eyes watching you closely, wishing to the gods this was finally the moment. You skip over her cunt entirely and begin kissing from below her navel to up between her breasts. Karlach groans with frustration at the lack of attention where she wants it most, she reaches down to touch herself, but you catch her hand before it makes contact.

“I promise I’ll make you feel good, baby, I want to take my time with you,” You tease, although you are sincere.

As much as Karlach yearns for more contact, she silently admits that your attention feels so good after so long with physical touch like this.

You remove yourself from above her and lay on your hip so you are by her side. Your hand hasn’t left her body, it remains softly resting on her chest.

“Are you sure you want this, love?” You ask her, although confident in her answer, still wanting her consent.

“Oh, fuck yes!” Karlach responds, “It’s about bloody time.”

She looks into your eyes, they are excited and hungry, she grins widely as your hand trails down between her breasts, past her stomach and below her navel. You use your hand to cup your fingers and firmly press it against her wet, aching cunt. The loud moan that escapes her lips is a beautiful one, one that you intend on hearing again and again. She shifts a bit under your touch, hips jolting to find more pressure.

You press your middle finger into her slit and drag it up over her clit. Karlach throws her head back, eyes closed, mouth agape, the sound she releases is pure sex.

“Finally,” Karlach thinks.

You continue to firmly swipe your finger up and down her slit, letting her get used to the feeling, basking in the initial pleasure. As you add another finger, she moans even louder, unable to stifle any noises that are drawn out. It makes you gush, as you hope you’re far enough away from the others at camp.

Her hands tightly grip the grass beside her, some of it ripping in her hands. She opens her eyes and looks into yours.

“More,” She pleads, and you oblige. Your two fingers circle her swollen clit, applying gentle pressure. Primal noises leave Karlach’s mouth as her tingling ecstasy grows deep in her abdomen. Her body becomes more rigid as her climax begins to swell, legs trembling and toes curling.

She lets out a scream of pleasure as the band snaps inside of her, your fingers still working circles around her clit as she rides the waves of her orgasm. After several moments of watching pure bliss write itself across her face, you remove your fingers from her and cup her cunt firmly like before.

Karlach’s eyes remain closed, as her breathing settles, relishing in the feeling of someone else’s physical touch. She rests her head and places a hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you,” She sighs.

“Don’t thank me, we’re not finished with you yet, my love,” You wink at her.

Her eyes pop with surprise, before she can say anything you remove your hand and place your two wet fingers on your tongue, encasing your lips around them. She watches, mesmerized, as you taste her, licking off every drop of her.

“Now that I’ve tasted you, I’ve decided I need more,” You coo, before leaning in to kiss her deeply. She can taste herself on your tongue, and this immediately sends arousal back through her body.

“And this time I won’t make you wait as long,” You break the kiss and move yourself onto your knees between her thighs, pushing them gently out wide. You trail your lips from her neck down to her stomach, kissing and suckling her skin. Karlach lifts her head to watch you move down her body, you lower herself between her thighs, she can already feel your breath on her cunt.

Without hesitation you lick a line up her slit, flattening your tongue to taste every inch of her. Her head falls back, and she tussles her hands in your hair as she lets out another groan.

“Is this okay, baby?” You tease her, Karlach doesn’t respond but pushes your head back between her thighs, prompting a hard “yes.”

You take your time, making sure to stretch every second of pleasure for her, drawing out delicious sounds from her lips. You kiss, suckle and lick your way to her second building orgasm, Karlach writhes under your touch. Her hands grab tighter at your hair as she tries to clench her knees together.

“Do you want more, baby?” Your tongue leaves Karlach for just a moment.

“Fuck, yes!” She practically pleads, her brain scrambling in the long overdue feelings of pleasure.

You gently bring your hand back to her cunt and insert a finger, drawing out a string of obscenities from Karlach, her hands lost in your hair as she writhes underneath you. After a few minutes, you gently add a second, the soft stretch heightening her building orgasm further. You lean back in and press your tongue to her clit, drawings circles in time to match the pumps of your hand.

Her legs begin to quiver, she tries to close her legs around your head, but you keep going at the same pace. Filthy, heavenly sounds escape from Karlach as she comes, clenching your fingers tight and feet digging into your back. After those several moments of pure pleasure, you can feel her body begin to relax. You gently remove your fingers and crawl up Karlach’s body until you meet her face. Her eyes are still closed, breathing uneven and sweat sitting on her brow.

You place a trail of small kisses on her neck, and she brings her hands to rest on your back. You don’t say anything, and let Karlach relish in the moment until she is ready to continue. All of a sudden she pushes you to the side and rolls you onto your back, Karlach hovers above you for a second before straddling your waist.

“Now that you’ve had me, its my turn to have you, all to myself.”

[thedomesticanthropologist]

BG3 characters and how I'd Flirty Foreplay with em

Gale: Honestly, I have sensory issues, so kissing that bearded face does not appeal. However, scritching the beard and rubbing his boobs, absolutely. He's getting titty massage, and he's getting fingers through his hair, but I wouldn't be able to stop myself from blowing raspberries on his tummy to make him giggle and kick his feet.

Wyll: The wrestling thing he does would turn into real wrestling and when he pins me I might hiss and snarl and kick and he'd have to check in to see if I'm still playing, at which point I'd get the upper hand and start tickling him mercilessly. This does count as foreplay.

Lae'zel: bait her with words until she destroys me and then say thank you (if I can still speak)

Shadowheart: Shy touches. I'd touch her arms, brush my fingers along the back of her hand. Squeeze her knee, her thigh. Sit too close. Smother her with compliments that make her pretend to gag. Touch the tip of her nose, her lips, her cheek bones. Let her know how grateful I am just to be this close at all. I'd lean in and breath her in, my nose pressed right to where her neck meets her shoulder. I'd say please.

Astarion: Teasing. Verbal foreplay to the max but it's hard to tell if we are being insulting or flirting. Tugging on clothes, poking in the ribs. Offer him a massage, but somewhere unexpected- most likely his hands. Kiss the palms when I'm done.

Karlach: straddle her and wiggle until she bursts info flames and has her way with me

Halsin: Soft eyes, long stares. Hand on his arm, his waist, throughout the day. The sort of foreplay that couldn't even be called foreplay, except it burns steadily all day until the moon rises and he's shaking. You know, tucking his hair behind his ear and tugging his earlobe after. Fixing the laces of his shirt and pressing a little close at the end, sighing quietly with contentment. Tempting him until he throws me over his shoulder and walks away with me.

[thechaoticdruid]

So I've finished my first run through of the game and did the epilogue which was just so precious! But anyways, it made me think, how would the companions react upon announcing at the reunion you and your partner are expecting!

I actually don't do requests but I like this one. I haven't made it to the epilogue yet in game but I think I can still answer these. They might be short though so please forgive me! 😔

I also tried to keep the reader's sex and gender as ambiguous as possible, but some words are hard to convey in gender neutral terms. Also the reader's partner is not specified.

But if your partner is Astarion (like my Tav's) I feel like everyone would have a similar "Is that even possible!?" reaction, except maybe Gale cause he's well studied.

Shadowheart

If you're the pregnant one she remarks on how she thought you were getting fat.

Like girl has no chill.

But if you're the father I can see her teasing you about not being able to keep your hands to yourself around your partner.

Proceeds to gift you gothic style clothes for the little one when it's closer to the birth.

Wyll

He immediately congratulates you both and wishes you well on your new adventure in parenting.

Assures you that the two of you will make a beautiful baby.

Also he asks to touch the bump if the pregnant person is showing. 🥺

Buys toys for the baby before it's even born.

Karlach

Immediately screams "FUCK YEAH I'M GONNA BE AN AUNT!!!"

Runs around to tell everyone else and buys you both drinks to celebrate for the occasion.

Needs to be reminded that drinking is bad for the baby.

Will plant a big smooch on the baby bump if the pregnant person is showing.

Starts wearing a T-shirt that says "BEST FUCKIN AUNT EVER." Also gets a matching shirt for the little one.

Lae'zel

Unless she has Xan she isn't particularly interested. She'd probably still congratulate you in her own githyanki way I suppose if you're on good terms.

If she does have Xan she suggests they spar together some day. Though she is confident her son will be victorious.

This is probably her own way of having a play date for your children.

Gale

Congratulates you both and wishes the two of you the best.

Offers to teach the child magic when they become old enough to learn.

Buys you lots of parenting books and tries to help by reminding you lots of useful facts, but in the end he kinda just low-key starts to be a bit annoying.

He means well though.

Astarion

Of course he may already be well aware of the pregnant person's bun in the oven depending on how far along they are.

His vampiric senses alert him to the little heartbeat within, you see.

"Enjoy your last few months of freedom and sleep filled nights while you can, darlings!~"

"But really, I am rather happy for the two of you. Especially you, I didn't think you had it in you." He says condescendingly to the father of the child.

Honestly he's just a little bitter he's single and alone.

Pretends not to have any interest in touching the baby bump, says he has no interest in the little creature growing inside.

But if he has a good relationship with either of the two parents he will make the baby eccentric little outfits. Especially goes all out if it's a little girl. Purple and red ruffles all over.

Will get very offended if he doesn't see the baby wearing them.

He put his soul into those outfits godsdamnit!

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Boy fucking howdy, the BG3 obsession is real, and so is being unable to sleep. I cranked this out in 20 minutes in an absolute fervor because I’m OBSESSED, as we all are. Please forgive my absence, but let us rejoice that I have been possessed enough to write again.

—————

Admittedly, you all have had better days on the road to Baldur’s Gate. There have been close calls and hard fights, but today has decidedly been the worst. What started as a hopeful descent into the Githyanki Crèche ended in most of your party downed, and watching Laezel’s eyes lose light as she died. Shadowheart thankfully still had the wherewithal to walk you through the scroll you said you’d never had to use, hand in shaky hand. It took you about an hour to detach yourself from her side once you all made it back to camp.

Quiet nods and looks of understanding were sent all around you as you commanded your feet their last few steps to your tent. Gale would take over dinner tonight. Karlach would take care of the owlbear and Scratch. Others would take other duties. You would take care of sitting down on your cot and disassociating before you could unclip both straps of your armor. That’s how Astarion found you anyways.

You had been close, today. Despite the looming threats, you both woke up in cheery spirits. You had gossiped about how Raphael was a scumbag, but a hot one, how Shadowheart and Laezel would definitely make out by the end of this journey, among other things. Once battles had started, you had even found a nice flow physically. Shooting arrows over each others shoulders, stabbing enemies before they could get to the other. Something went wrong along the way. Discussions didn’t seem to go your way. No one you all encountered seemed very convinced of your decisions or leadership. You felt that it had started to infiltrate your team, despite their objections.

But someone had died on your watch. And for that, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Sweetheart, armor comes off before bed, you know.” A little less smug than usual. “He’s worried,” you think in passing. It seemed that his voice came from farther away, until you felt the whisper of his fingers on your shoulder. His way of not wanting to scare you. He’s very familiar with the look in your eyes right now. You have enough energy to finish unbuckling the second clasp before the chest piece falls to the floor with a dull thud. As you extend your torso to stretch properly for the first time today, both sets of eyes fall to a particularly dark red patch in your torso, right underneath your heart. Seems you’ve been stabbed. How long ago is anyone’s guess, but the armor seemed to hold as the worlds worst tourniquet. The volume of voices tune back out as you hear Astarions call for help, the pitch of panic sending you deeper into… something. Not quite nothingness. Not quite enough of something to call it anything. A general state of pain and emptiness.

Two sets of hands lift you enough to lay down on your cot. Voices mill around, but you feel the large hands of Halsin gingerly lift your shirt to begin healing. He leaves you in your bra as he begins his work. He has a way of making his deep booming voice so soothing when he knows you’re in pain. Astarion sits down closer to your face, and has one hand on the side of your cheek. His thumb runs across your cheekbone a little faster than usual, trying to comfort you as well as himself. Halsin has been around this enough that both men don’t seem to be phased, but Astarion starts his mix of worry and chastisement and care. Funny how he can speak so softly and so cutting at the same time.

“How many times have I told you to tell me when you’re hurt? You’re not holding up your end of the bargain,” he says, with no real seriousness. You look over long enough to see his creased brows, but in them, something new. He’s angry at you, for compromising the plan. For compromising his journey. For compromising the trust he put in you for being a team. He’s also mad at himself for not being in front of you to catch the blade.

“You’re no good to me dead, you know. I need you… I need you here.” He says, voice shaky, as Halsin finishes his spell. The newly connected skin is always itchy, so he puts a salve on before he leaves. He puts a large hand on Astarions shoulder and exchange a few words before he leans over and kisses you gently on the temple. He whispers, between the three of you “We’re here to take care of you, my heart. Please allow us to.”

Now that the physical pain has started to subside, the emotions you’ve been pushing down through the day start to bubble up. You start to feel the dirt, the blood, the viscera on your skin. How compressed everything is starting to get. You lean up and start to breathe. A little too fast, a little too heavy. Astarions eyes get wide, he’s seen you stressed but this is something different. You hurry to a nearby abandoned building near camp while he stays behind a step, a little stunned.

Normally this would be the time he freezes, unsure of emotions, unsure how to help. But it’s usually him that’s going through something like this. It’s usually you who calms him down, brings him back to center. What has he done to make you feel like this?

You sit in the corner of a decrepit old rampart. Panic attacks haven’t been prevalent for quite some time. You don’t hear him, once again until he’s next to you. You notice your cot and some creature comforts set up a few feet away. A few curtains strewn to block out the inevitable morning sun. Some candles for light.

“Thought you might like some alone time tonight.” He says, voice deep and steady and sure of himself. For someone so lithe and nimble, you forget he can lift you in his arms. And he does settling you in bed, sitting while you feel him taking his shirt off and leaning you against his chest. The skin on skin contact, you’ve found, comforts him as much as it comforts you.

The shock of Astarion moving with such assuredness brings you a little bit back to surface. You clear your throat and say “I’m sorry for troubling everyone. Today was a little hard for me.” Your voice breaks a little at the end, and so does your resolve as you cry, letting the emotions of the day out.

He runs fingers through your hair and turns you into his chest as you release all your worry from the day. “You know, I honestly don’t know how you’ve kept it together this far, my sweet.” He brings his face to the side of yours, steadying your breathing and letting his breath warm your neck. “I haven’t had to be strong for anyone… well, other than myself. But I didn’t even do a good job then. You’re so much more than you know. To them. To me.” He lays a field of kisses to the side of your face and neck while his arms surround you, fingers lacing together. “I… don’t know how to do this part. I don’t know how to be good at this. To comfort. But I do know I’ve never been more torn apart when you’re in pain. Please. Let me… try. Let me try to be good at this.”

Chest heaving, you look up and take his mouth into yours. You kiss deeply, letting it say all the things you’re too tired to say. Too tired to thank him for. He seems to understand, as he cradles your face in his palm. A kiss that’s said more than you’ve said to each other for weeks.

As sleep overtakes you, he brings you into his chest, arm circling your shoulder.

The last burst of energy wouldn’t allow your mouth to say it, but Astarion felt the tadpole twitch with the three words you two had been dancing around for some time. If his heart still beat it would keep him up for the rest of the night. In hope. In anticipation to say it back. But you two were together. Alive. There would be time for I love yous in the morning.

[sorcerous-caress]

I would like to maybe request the different BG3 party members finding out a Tav with a tough guy act was secretly ticklish? Just fluff all around

Finding out you're ticklish

[ fluff, nb!Reader, several characters ]

[ reader is a tough cold badass person ]

Karlach

Absolutely abuses it.

She has been trying to get you to loosen up for a while. As cool and badass she thought you were, she was sure there was a fun side to you.

Took it very personally to try to get you to laugh, bad puns, slipping on a banana peel, and even asking Gale to borrow one of his nerdy type jokes. Alas, you were as expressive as a stone wall.

Just when she was about to give up, she thought "ah what the hell?" and just went for it, full on tickling your sides. Worst case scenario, she will get put on clean duty again.

Imagine her surprise when you started cackling up. Pure sincere laughter coming from your own lips, very contagious too. She found herself laughing along as she kept denying your attempts to push her away.

Now she has a secret weapon, one she plans to use at whichever chance she gets.

Gale

Very amused.

Ah, how the tables have turned. You know he did have a theory on your aversion to touch and the distance you keep from others, and this was the most pleasant of outcomes.

"Accidentally" brushes against your ticklish spots, claims absolute innocence each time. Batting his eyelashes as he swears ignorance.

He'd have prefered a more subtle method than Karlach's, but really, who is he to say? Maybe he could learn a thing or two from her, that sometimes the easiest way is the best answer to a problem.

Shadowheart

Teases you about it.

She threatens to do it in her "maybe I'm joking, maybe not" way. Does she ever do it? Who knows.

But mostly, she can relate to you. She gets teased about her fear of wolves a lot, so she understands if you want her to drop the topic.

Wyll

Defends you.

He was always the kid in the playground who'd chase bullies away, and while this is a more light-hearted teasing between friends things, he will still defend you from Karlach surprise attacks.

You're safe next to him, don't worry, he will never use your weakness against you no matter how tempting it is to get this tough ice cold person to fall into a pit of laughter.

Those aren't his thoughts, just the devil's on his shoulder.

Laezel

Doesn't get it.

What do you mean ticklish? What even is that.

Gith don't really get tickled. Their skin doesn't allow it much. She is a bit fascinated and curious about it. After all, it must be a great weapon if it reduced a formidable person like you into a jumpy offbalance prey.

Yes, she will keep it in mind if she needs to take you down one day. It is the excuse she allows herself on why she keeps staring at you whenever you laugh.

Minthara

While Wyll will attempt to defend you, Minthara doesn't even have to try.

If everyone in here wants to keep their throat unslited, they better not even think to place their grubby hands near you.

Says she did use it as a form of torture in interrogations before. It wasn't very effective since the target would end up incomprehensible.

Astarion

HA

HA HA HA

you poor thing.

His bullying puts Shadowheart's light hearted teasing to shame, he WILL fully throw digs at you every chance he gets.

Brings it up always, asks if you're at risk of falling prone to laughter because your shirt's fabric was too soft. Jokes about how feathers must be knives to you huh.

He isn't big on touching, so your physical body will remain safe. Your mentality, however, is a different case.

Halsin

He is too, very ticklish. How did he get people to stop bringing it up? Simple, turn into a gaint bear.

It's not so fun watching someone fall on you from laughter when it's a gaint cave bear with rows of sharp teeth.

But really, it's not so bad. And here he will help you practice your bear exaggerated laughter to make your teeth look sharper.

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 4

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… now you do.

You’ve finally made a decision on how to handle it, but it turns out it might not be that easy to actually do as planned.

~~~

It’s as if all the gods have come together to conspire against you. Truly, you wonder if you accidentally angered one or several of them, because after dinner, nothing goes as planned.

First it is Shadowheart, seeking your counsel about a scroll in her possession she wants you to take a look at. Next it is Lae’zel, wanting to discuss again your findings about Orpheus and what it might mean.

You almost scream out loud when Karlach calls for you just as you are finally about to approach Astarion.

You definitely do scream, just a little, when you collide with a tipsy Gale and the collision causes red wine to splatter all over your shirt and trousers. Cursing under your breath, you see Astarion glance your way with a chuckle. As tempting as it is to stomp over and drag him into his tent just to have it over with, you decide a change of clothes first is the wisest course of action.

It’s much less conspicuous, for one — everyone would notice and wonder if you decide to talk to him now — and you need a moment to cool down.

You’re quick about it, grabbing the first clean pieces of clothing you can find — but it’s not quick enough.

When you walk out of your tent again, Astarion is nowhere to be seen. Telling yourself that it’s not strange for you to inquire about his whereabouts, you ask Halsin if he has seen him.

“I think he went to find something to eat.”

“Ah.” Dammit. ”I see.”

You stare into the dark forest surrounding the camp, wondering if it will seem odd if you go after him. Probably not, if they even notice you leave.

In the end, you decide to remain where you are, sitting down by the fire with the others. He will be back sooner or later, and until then, you can enjoy the company of your friends. Or try to, at least.

Astarion’s still not back when Gale suddenly stands and announces that it’s time to head out. Watching them all laugh and banter as they gather blankets and wine, you realise that you should do things like this more often. Take the time to just have fun. Especially now, when what you have to face next is the Shadowlands, a place that sounds more terrifying than anything else your party has encountered so far.

Not counting getting tadpoles inside your head.

It’s actually a quite nice spot Gale has found. Wide stretches of soft grass swaying in the night breeze, the surrounding tree line creating a sense of protection and serenity. If your heart wasn’t already attached to another, you think you would’ve enjoyed going here alone with Gale. Maybe.

“Where’s the food? Surely we need something to snack on too?”

“Karlach…”

Shrugging, Shadowheart held up the bottles in her hands. “Sorry, too busy grabbing the wine.”

“I’ll go,” you offer, because it would be a shame to bring the mood down with unnecessary squabbling. The fact that there’s a chance you might find a certain elf back at camp has absolutely nothing to do with it. Well, maybe a little.

“Thanks, soldier, you’re the best!”

You leave before anyone gets the idea of tagging along. If Astarion is back, you wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to finally talk with him. Even if it ruins the night for one or both of you.

When you get back, you see Withers by his tent. But no Astarion in sight.

“Where is that goddamn man?” You stomp over to his tent. “Astarion? Are you here?”

Nothing.

Muttering to yourself, you take a basket and fill it with bread, cheese, and some fruit. With how everything has gone so far tonight, you grab a bottle of what you presume is wine, because the urge to get blissfully drunk is too hard to resist.

As you trudge back to the others, you wistfully wonder where Astarion has been all night. Was he avoiding you? And if so, why?

“Tav, there you are!” Karlach shoots up from her seat on the blanket and relieves you of the basket. “Look who we found!”

And there he is.

“Astarion.”

Sitting between Halsin and Shadowheart.

“Tav,” Gale pats the spot next to him, “I saved you a seat.”

Of course he did. “Thank you, Gale.”

Even if you had it in you dismiss him, you realise quickly that there’s no other space available. So you sit down, because there’s not much else you can do.

It turns out that the bottle you snagged isn’t wine but rum, but that suits you just fine at this point. You try to listen as Gale talks to you about the constellations he points at, but your focus keeps shifting to Astarion. The way he leans closer to Shadowheart, the way he keeps touching Halsin. You are used to him being a bit of a flirt, but this feels like more. It feels like there’s actual intent behind it and not him just being his usual self.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he’s trying to make you jealous. Which is ridiculous, of course.

Unless it isn’t. You take another swig of the rum. “Ridiculous.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Astarion glances your way but quickly turns to Halsin again when he catches you watching. The bastard. Well, two can play that game. “Oh.” You inch just a little bit closer to Gale. “I was just saying to myself how ridiculously beautiful the sky is.” Smooth, Tav, smooth. You almost roll your eyes at yourself.

Gale smiles. “It is, isn’t it?”

For the next half hour, you make yourself focus on Gale, and Gale alone. He is an interesting man — when he’s not talking about Mystra. In the back of your mind, you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but your drunk brain justifies it by telling yourself that Gale deserves an attentive audience. He’s the reason why you’re all here, after all.

He really is nice — too nice for someone like you. You realise that at some point while observing Gale and Karlach talk about… something. You’re not really listening anymore, once again caught up in your own hazy mind.

The bottle in your hand is almost empty — when did that happen? Oh, right. You have been taking a sip every time you hear Astarion laugh or call someone else a pet name. Stupid idea, that.

With a heavy sigh, you flop back to lie down on the blanket. Everyone’s voices turn into background noise as you stare up at the stars. Or try to, because the world is spinning, spinning, and the last thing you hear before you doze off is someone saying your name.

~~~

[ficbrish]

Threadbare

[AO3 Link]

[Here we go! @flufftober Spring Edition 2024! Thank you for the prompt 🥰 March 11th - New Beginnings]

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

tw/cw: Sexual content, blood, blood drinking, past abuse, cptsd, choking kink, interrupted masturbation, alcohol, light hurt/comfort

Late in Act III, Astarion finds Vistri cuddling with his old shirt alone in their rooms at the Elfsong.

LATE ACT III SPOILERS!

“...And gave him a taste of a flaming fist! ” Karlach howled, leading the whole tavern in laughter.

Other mugs echoed her pounding on the bar with a dull, banging rhythm. Little golden drops of mead spilled over the tops, dripping down the glasses and mixing with condensation.

Astarion personally never tired of this story of hers. A Flaming Fist had been inappropriately whistling at Shadowheart, and Karlach responded by knocking the man flat on his ass in one swing. While Astarion smiled quietly and nostalgically at her recollection of those events, the other tavern patrons, who’d never heard it before, were an eager and raucous audience.

Shadowheart’s face turned Karlach’s color. Shouting over the Elfsong’s laughter, she protested, “I could have handled it myself. Really!”

Wyll threw an arm over her shoulder, “Come, come, Shadowheart. Was it not a bit satisfying for such a gallant devil to step in and exact your revenge?”

A huge smile spread over her face, “Galant devil could describe any of us.”

Astarion raised his glass, “Cheers!”

Wyll met his delicate wine glass with his own burly mug of mead. Unprepared for how much enthusiasm Wyll would use, Astarion ended up with red all down his front. A collective groan sounded along with wild laughter.

“It’s all right,” he assured Wyll, whose eyes were apologizing faster than his mouth could move.

“Astarion, I’m so—”

Funny thing, how such a sight affected him. Astarion wasn’t used to apologies. Or friendships for that matter. Wyll’s genuine sorrow over such a small inconvenience was like a hearty meal to a starving soul. He couldn’t let the apology continue. It was too painful to witness.

“No, no! It’s all right,” Astarion insisted, “Please don’t put yourself out. I’ll just go change. This tunic is hideous anyways.”

It wasn’t. It was a pretty blue thing with silver thread. But there was a prettier blue thing with silver scales waiting for him upstairs in their rooms, one he was eager to get back to.

Vistri was having a lie down. She wasn’t sick, just exhausted. Her body was fine, but her mind was ragged. Astarion was only reluctantly dragged from her side through her stubborn, repeated insistence to be left alone for a little while. He had the sense she’d been saying it more for his sake than hers. She didn’t want to be the reason why he didn’t spend time with the others.

“You say no one else has my heart, but they do!” she’d said, “You do!”

He’d frowned at the way she used his own words against him. Especially so inaccurately. Astarion was right, there was no one else like her. He’d stand by that forever.

“That’s not—!”

“Yes, it is! Go down there and have fun. Let them earn your trust as I have.”

Raising his brow, he left her with one last tease, “Certainly not in the same way you have?”

His charm wasn’t enough this time. He was dismissed.

Let the others in .

Well, he’d gone down with the others, had a bit of fun, and now he was covered in wine. He had the perfect excuse to go back up and check on her. The fretting in his stomach turned into excitement. 

So much had changed in so little time, after two centuries of endless, torturous consistency, spilled wine was now just spilled wine. He would just change his clothes, maybe wash up a bit, and there would be more waiting for him to wear. Choices.

Sewing was a skill Cazador forced on all his spawn. Keeping them all as cheaply as possible, they had to make every article of clothing last. No matter the care, or the tending, their clothes always ended up degrading into rags and tatters. Astarion was almost jealous of the way his outfits got to age and die. They had a temporal escape, while his torture was bound to be endless.

It also had the side benefit of shame. Sewing was for servants. It reminded the spawn of who they were.

Now that was all over. Cazador was gone. Ended by his hand.

And he had so many new clothes.

He had choices. How bizarre! Astarion was sure he’d forgotten how to make them.

And then he chose her.

A smile brewed on his face just at the mention of her in his thoughts. He took to the steps three at a time, surely looking absolutely ridiculous. He didn’t remember much from his life before undeath, but the more time he spent away from Cazador, the more he realized how much his desire to avoid appearing foolish was part of the weight of those old chains. If he tripped and fell on his face, he would probably laugh from the rebellious feeling of it.

The tadpoles brought him the sun and then Vistri. She helped him find love, true freedom, and then true love.

He decided looking a fool was worth it the moment he stepped through the door. His eyes found her immediately on one of the sofas by the fireplace. The dancing reflections of the flames rolled over the silver scales on her brow in waves. He could see it from the door. She was lying down; her eyes opened at the sound of his entrance.

She seemed a little shocked, “Astarion!”

“Hello, dear!” he greeted with open arms and a wide smile. It felt like ages since they’d been in the same space.

Although, reading her expression, he was a little worried she wasn’t as happy to see him.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, “Are the others—?”

“Just me,” he stated, then dramatically drew attention to his ruined shirtfront, “I’ve been decorated with libations! I need to freshen up. Is that all right?”

“Of course it’s all right! Don’t be silly.”

Vistri was a sorcerer; she was used to her thoughts becoming reality. But her mind was reeling from his sudden appearance. Like he’d stepped from her thoughts, but with an entirely different attitude. The Astarion in front of her was all lightness and soft good-humor. The one in her head was a whole other, harder side of his.

Their storage trunk was near the fireplace as well, by the other sofa. As Astarion walked towards her to rifle through it, she slowly removed her hand from between her legs, careful not to let the movement show under the blanket, which wasn’t even a blanket, but his old shirt.

Gods! It couldn’t be more embarrassing.

He came over to her first, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on her damp forehead. Astarion looked at her curiously, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Vistri nodded, humming a high-pitched, “Mmmm-hmmm.”

His brow was all questioningly screwed up, but he decided to drop it, and started unbuttoning his tunic.

Vistri subtly wiped her fingers on her thigh, then sat up, “Here, let me help you.”

“I’ve got it love,” he insisted, “You just lie down. Say… Why aren’t you in our bed?”

The way she smiled and repeated the words, “Our bed,” in that bright tone allayed all Astarion’s fears in an undead heartbeat. He was welcome. She was just as happy to see him as he was her. Poor love was just worn out.

He sighed and bent back down to kiss her. Her pulse pounded, he could feel it rush at the brushing of his lips. A rumble brewed in his middle and his fangs ached. She gave a little moan without meaning to, losing herself in the power of his affection.

“Don’t get too excited,” he teased, “I’m only here for a moment.”

“Why only a moment?” she asked genuinely.

With a smile, he tucked her braid behind her ear, “Didn’t you want to be alone?”

Her eyes were wide, like a begging dog, “I can be alone with you here.”

Astarion froze. He swallowed heavily, then giggled, “What a silly idea! Doesn’t that defy the whole concept of being alone?”

She pouted, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he scoffed, sitting down next to her, “I can be—Hang on!”

Upon reaching for her hand, he finally noticed her blanket. Her expression filled with panic at his recognition, and too late, she tried to hide it.

He chuckled with sinister delight, “Why, is this my—?”

“No!” she stubbornly refused.

“Bloody liar! ” he laughed.

“It’s not!”

Vistri was cuddled up with his old shirt. She must’ve taken it out of the trunk and sat down nearby.

“That’s why you’re not in bed! You came over here for my shirt!”

Blushing deeply, Vistri was struggling to accept her fate. She couldn’t get out of talking about her feelings now. Eventually, she admitted, “...I did.”

His query was meant to tease, but there was something… raw and needy in his voice that made it something entirely different, “You were…”

She was nuzzling his old rags like they were something precious. Intentionally. Used her alone time to fish it out of the stuffed trunk, and secretly treasure it. While he was just downstairs in the tavern, missing her, she was up here longing for him.

“You were holding onto my old shirt?”

Vistri rolled her eyes and groaned. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s ridiculous!” she exclaimed.

Astarion made a “tsk” sound and smirked, “Aw, don’t reject it now, darling. My poor shirt! You’ll hurt its feelings.”

“No! I don’t want that!” she whined, as if that were something possible to really do.

He held it away from her reaching grasp, “Nuh, uh! Apologize first.”

“Astarion!”

“That’s my name, dear. Not an apology.”

Vistri frowned. Astarion leaned in and kissed it into a smile.

“I hate you!” she giggled, playfully pushing him off her.

“I hate you too,” he said lovingly, “Now! Walk me through the process of deciding to take out my shirt. Was this before or after you shooed me away?”

“Must I?”

Savoring the look on her face, he nodded, “You must, dearest.”

She bit her lip, “Okay. Ugh. Fine. You left and I…”

“You what?”

“I missed you! ”

“Hah!” he boasted.

“Arsehole!”

“An arsehole you love to kiss,” he grinned, “Shall I call you butt breath?”

“No!” she protested, laughing, “Please no!”

“Here,” Astarion handed her his old shirt, “Hold this.”

He stood and finished undoing his tunic, then threw off the soiled shirt underneath. Bare-chested, he climbed over to her side.

“Scoot over,” he demanded.

“There’s no room!” she laughed.

He pulled her tight once his body was flush against hers, “We’ll make it work.”

Vistri felt dizzy. Like she was flying.

“Okay.”

Not letting it go, Astarion asked, “So you missed me, and then what happened?”

With his fingers absently drawing figures on her waist, Vistri had no fight left. Sighing, she continued to expose herself, “I started thinking about… When we met, and I first saw you.”

“How you adored me instantly?”

“No, actually. How much I despised you. Like really, really just wanted to… shake you.”

“That’s so romantic.”

She chuckled, “I’m sorry. It’s horrible, but it’s true. But then… I also…” She shifted so they were chest to chest, and she could look at his face as she spoke. Without thinking, her nose nuzzled his as she admitted, “I really liked you.”

He sort of snorted and sighed and called out in the same second, like a baby that didn’t know if it was hungry or tired or perfectly content. That didn’t know whether to coo or cry.

“You did?” he asked, heart on his tongue.

Nodding, Vistri admitted it all, “I think I’ve come to learn… It wasn’t you I was mad at, but everyone else you reminded me of. And part of me knew that, and the unfairness of it made me hate myself more.”

“Wanna know a secret?”

“What?” she chuckled.

“I hated myself and liked you too.”

Grinning, she humorously exclaimed, “And that’s why we had sex!”

Astarion gave a hearty laugh. It was rich and deep, and sounded like relief from a long-ago burden.

Instead of joining his mirth, Vistri’s expression grew more serious, “I don’t believe there’s a single thing I could hate about you. Not now that I know you.”

“Not a single thing?”

“Impossible.”

He caressed the length of her ear, gentle like a caretaker, then kissed her cheek.

“So what was that you were saying, about thinking of how much you hated me when we first met?” he whispered, stroking the side of her face with the tip of his nose.

“I didn’t hate you, I was falling in love. That’s what I was thinking of. Falling in love.”

“With me?”

She laughed, “Who else?”

He kissed her forehead, waiting with bated breath for her to continue.

She breathed deeply, leaning into his kiss, “I wanted to run down and get you, but we can’t be together all the time.”

“Who says?”

Chuckling, she shook her head, “We can’t!”

“And the next best thing was my shirt?”

“The one I met you in.”

He’d almost thrown it out. Now that he had new clothes, he no longer needed Cazador’s old rags.

But he couldn’t. And he was glad he didn’t.

“And then you just decided to relax here? And daydream about me?”

“Uh…” she said way too awkwardly for him to just accept.

Brow raised, Astarion repeated, “‘Uh? ’”

“It’s just so incredibly lame!” Vistri looked horrified.

“Then I have to hear it!” he giggled, thrilled to have her in this little trap she set up herself.

“I was… Oh gods! ” she rolled her eyes, “Can I just… tadpoles?”

He laughed, “It’s so embarrassing you can’t speak it?”

“Yes.”

Laughing even harder, he agreed. He put his forehead to hers even though they didn’t need touch for brainworm-to-brainworm communication. Relaxing into his embrace, she let her memory play out through his senses.

Vistri was thinking of him, and Astarion found beauty in himself he could only see through her eyes. Like freedom, it was overwhelming. A goodness he could drown in. That she could drown in. He was her, and she was him.

Knots in her stomach, tied like strings of fate, spelling his name in her blood.

Rushing, pounding, flowing. Her heart.

Stillness. Serenity. Bliss.

After lying down on the couch, she held his shirt to her face and breathed into it. Even washed, it smelled like him. Like his heat and his lusts and his heavy soul. She kissed its loose threads like it was his chest, where his heart was. Imagined his arms around her like they were now.

Astarion felt Vistri loving him; fell into her blurred line of desire and devotion. He could taste it on her tongue as he kissed her now and felt her love him through that too. Past and present blended, and they shared all of it like one being. In her memory, her hand traveled between her legs at the thought of his laughing face. Then there was the sincerity in his eyes as they both kneeled over his grave. I want you, spilling out of his lips. She was touching herself, thinking of him, adoring him, with the shirt she’d met him in clutched to her throat. As they lived through it together on the same sofa, he kissed her again and again.

She didn’t even mean to break the connection, but his mouth was too distracting. He just couldn’t help himself. It felt like coming home after two centuries.

“How rude,” he muttered, “I seem to have interrupted.”

“It’s fine,” she said breathlessly, “I’m glad you came back.”

He chuckled warmly, “Darling I was just downstairs. At your insistence!”

“I know,” she said plainly, holding him tighter.

His heart ached, still absorbing what he’d just felt and seen through her memory, “You… Thinking about me–how you love me–makes you…?”

Unable to look at him, she buried her face in his chest, “I told you it was lame!”

Helping her out of hiding, he lifted up her chin, “I don’t think it’s lame.”

His tone sounded like he thought it was the most extraordinary thing. A miracle that couldn’t even be perceived, even with it plainly in front of him. It tore her heart open, but filled it rather than took.

Astarion kissed her neck, “I think it’s quite hot actually. Makes me want to finish what you started.” Vistri felt the heat of her blush again, and he moaned, “Fuck! I love when your blood rushes.”

He scraped his fangs hungrily against her skin. Her heart grew heavy with the weight of his need. She wanted to be the reason he felt better. Stronger.

“Go ahead, Astarion,” she said comfortingly, “Have a bite.”

He kissed her neck, from her chin down to the base of her throat, and bit into the muscle that connected her shoulder. Vistri gasped, surrendering to the sharp pain, and to him, leaning into his bite. Her blood dripped between them as it rolled messily off his lips.

Just allowing himself a taste, Astarion released Vistri from his fangs, licking up the remnants and kissing her wound until it closed. The hunger wasn’t sated, but he was dizzy with power nonetheless.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked, still concerned despite knowing how much she loved it.

“More than all right! Are you—?”

He met her warm smile with one of his own, “More than all right.”

“Good.”

No other partner ever cared. Neither had ever been asked genuinely what they wanted or who they were. No one else but them, making such questions a lyrical aphrodisiac for them to exchange.

Astarion could read her arousal in a thousand different languages. His tongue could feel it in her frantic heartbeat. His teeth could smell it in her glistening sweat. She was a meal ready to be devoured, prey begging to be taken. His hands traveled along her waist, and she twitched pleasantly. All the places that usually tickled made her shiver with want.

Vistri was always so ecstatic that it was him touching her this way, and no one else, that her skin would cry if it could. He could have clumsy hands and awkward touches, and still his embrace would make her shake. Astarion could easily bring ecstasy to her, even if he didn’t know what he was doing, just because it was him.

But gods did he know what he was doing! He played her body like it was one of her instruments, and all he did was fondle her torso.

His fingers lingered just under her waistline as he rubbed his arousal against her thigh. Throbbing under his pants, Astarion let his hand dive into her knickers. The wet lace made him groan.

“You’re soaking,” he sighed, licking his lips, “Might I have another taste?”

Whimpering as he teased her sensitive skin with brushing fingertips, Vistri pleaded, “Yes!”

First, he undressed her one article at a time, unwrapping her like a gift.

It was better than being alone. The whole purpose of her rest was to not think. She didn’t want to disappear, not anymore. She wanted to be present, but out of her head, and this was so much better. However, her heart still ached and missed him. Demanding more touch, more feeling. 

Being wanted by Vistri was the prettiest sight. Astarion had only ever known admiration, not adoration. Images of her in her memory ran through his mind; and with them came echoes of her emotion as she’d nuzzled into his old shirt, desperate for his lingering smell, pretending it still held his warmth. As the monster in his head screamed to devour her, he slid a finger up and down her soaking slit.

Following the roll of her hips, he almost lost himself in their rhythm as he teased her clit. Her desire was one he’d never known, a love he’d never felt. Vistri gave herself to everyone, but never like this. It was the same for him. Everyone had him, but no one knew him like this. Between them, old habits were entirely new.

Crawling his way down her legs, he had another taste. Vistri’s hands caressed his head and her fingers wrapped around his ears in a way that made him hum with security.

She cried out at every lash of his tongue.

He whined licking her, the rushing blood just under her skin overwhelmed his senses as much as her taste. It made him feel alive. Pangs of need made his fingers tremble as they pushed into her, stretching her. She moaned, a song promising this would always be his. He wanted to fuck her until he saw stars.

And it felt good to want. The desire he felt was his. All his.

“Astarion,” she called out his name in a breathy voice, her body tensing with pleasure. Even without tadpoles, he knew how close Vistri was.

The next words from her lips yanked his heart out of his chest and brought it to his sleeve.

“Yours. I’m all yours.”

He’d planned to pleasure her in so many ways, but those words took away his will to perform. They didn’t need ecstasy as much as each other. She’d touched herself thinking of his laugh and his expressions; of his being, not his figure. Vistri just wanted him.

Lifting his head up, he asked, “Can I—?”

“Get back here!”

She pulled on his shoulders as he rushed to her lips, climbing her torso. She was so small, but it felt like miles. Ages until they were face to face.

His mouth was like a bully, commanding hers about. Vistri struggled with things like self love and acceptance, but could adoringly savor her taste on his tongue. It was so sweet mixed with his underneath. Astarion took her by the wrist to rub her hand along the outside of his trousers, almost growling as rutted into her palm. Being used by him was the best thing in the world, just as being used by others was the worst. Her ecstasy from it was as sharp as her bruised soul.

One long, deep, “Uuuuh,” from Vistri was the final snap in Astarion’s composure. One hand went to her neck as the other started undoing his laces. 

He licked along her jaw, and spoke in the crook of her throat as it called to him, “Do you know what it means? When you say you’re all mine?”

“I know what it means,” she looked him squarely in the eyes, seriously, which was unusual for either of them, “I say it because I know what it means.”

When there was enough give, Astarion pulled his trousers and pants down in one motion, just far enough to reveal himself. He spread her thighs apart and rubbed his aching cock along her belly to show off how deep he’d go.

Writhing, wanting him, she uttered, “Fuck, I love you.”

Astarion buried himself in her, saying he loved her too. Vistri screamed his name so loudly it probably answered what was taking him so long to change to the others downstairs.

“Wait, is the door locked?” he asked, suddenly remembering.

Vistri groaned, realizing it wasn’t, “Shit. Nooo.”

It was a rare occasion for their rooms at the Elfsong to be empty of everyone but them. Anyone could come back at any time, and they were in the middle of the room.

“Well, we don’t want to make an unsuspecting audience out of Shadowheart’s parents. Do we?”

Cackling, she suggested, “Or Withers.”

Astarion giggled, “Old bastard might try to join.”

Vistri’s laughter made her shake and pulse so pleasantly on his cock, he didn’t want to leave.

“Go lock it,” she could barely get the words out, overtaken by hilarity. Like she was wearing that cursed amulet again. 

Sighing with frustration, he reluctantly pulled out of her and got up, tearing the rest of clothes off of his legs. Her slick covered his whole length, making the air cool on his dick as it bounced with his steps.

At the sound of the lock snapping shut, Vistri stupidly called out, “Please!”

He stood by the door smiling with his arms crossed, “Please, what?” The crimson-violet scream of his skin, his retreated foreskin, and the precum pooling at his tip betrayed his casual nature.

“Fuck me!” she begged.

He smirked and held up two fingers.

Vistri buried her face in the side of the sofa to hide her laughter, “I cannot stand you!”

Wishing to see her face again, Astarion dropped his game and broke into a full run. She squealed as he leapt to her, and then cried out as he tore through her again. He savored the look on her face. Her eyes spilled the truth of her heart. Their expression exposed her even though she wasn’t trying to hide anything. Vistri belonged to him, gave herself over to him to use and take care of at whatever whim. As long as she was his .

“What was that about not being able to stand me?” he smirked, distracting himself from the pleasure shaking his spine like a tree in a rough storm. He wanted Vistri to find ecstasy at least once before giving into his.

Running her hands along his chest and stomach made him almost whimper. Vistri licked his earlobe and kissed his ear before whispering, “I lied. I actually adore you, and want you all the time.”

Roughly, he pushed her down into the sofa. He wrapped a big hand around her delicate neck and held it firm, like a brace. Slowing his thrusts to an unbearably slow pace. A teasing rhythm.

“Do you adore me now?” he asked. It was impossible for even Astarion to tell if he was asking out of seduction or sincerity.

“Even more,” she promised.

A devious smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Turn around.”

After tucking pillows, and his old shirt, under Vistri for a better angle, Astarion playfully bounced his hard cock against her ass. They both laughed at the smack, but grew serious as he began to touch her from behind. She rocked back into his palm so deliciously he had to angle himself against her. With a slight push, he was covered to the hilt. They shivered in tune with each other. Vistri felt ripped open at his thrust; his hands firmly holding onto her hips grounded her.

She reached back for one of them, and his finger twisted around one of hers as they met.

He froze, “Is this still what you want?”

“It is all I want,” she answered, caressing his finger.

Even though Vistri couldn’t see his smirk, she could hear it, “Then let’s give the others an update on our whereabouts.”

He roughly pumped his hips, angling deep.

“Astarion!”

He wanted them to hear it, everyone her voice could reach; hear the news that she was his. Going faster made her louder.

“Astarion! ” 

“Yes,” he groaned, as he felt her tightening around him, “Yes.” It was a word he wasn’t used to meaning, and the truth of it felt like the sun tingling like home on his skin.

Gasping through the edges of death, in unison, too quickly, they cried out.

Astarion wanted to see the stars, and there they appeared behind both their eyes. They never really knew why it was called a little death before they met. It became clear the first time they transcended flesh and spirit together under the thrall of an all-consuming ecstasy. In that bliss, they were gone from the world, and in coming back to it, were reborn into their shaking embrace.

He rocked his hips gently, even when there was nothing left to spill into her. Just because he didn’t want the moment to pass yet.

As Astarion sat back on his knees, Vistri turned around and covered his face with a flurry of breathless, grateful pecks. He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around her. Vistri threw hers over his shoulders too and pulled him tighter.

“Never leave me alone again,” she half-joked.

Astarion was so happy his words had a sobbing laugh under them, “Oh, I’m never leaving you alone again!”

They squeezed each other even closer at the same time. Never wanting to let go.

Miraculously, nothing got on the couch. So all they had to clean off was each other. After freshening up, they crawled into their bed. Which wasn’t really their bed. It was rented. But, unless tents and bedrolls counted, this bed was the first sort of home they’d claimed together.

“This is my favorite part,” she said as she nuzzled into his chest.

“What are you talking about?”

Vistri hummed happily and sighed, running her fingers along his arm, “This.”

Smiling, he bent to kiss her head. She gave another happy hum.

“You’re perfect,” she said.

“No, I’m not,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Looking up, she poked him on the nose and refuted his denial, “Yes, you are!”

Astarion smirked and made a show of trying to bite her finger. Vistri squealed, laughing.

“No, don’t bi—”

A series of loud, rapid bangs on the door snatched them from their lighthearted moment, and instinctively, they got ready to fight. Each made a protective gesture over the other. Astarion sat up and pulled her closer by the waist, as she positioned her body in front of his.

Drunken shouts answered them before they could call out and ask who was there.

“—en it!”

“‘S’locked! ”

“OY! WHY’S THE DOOR SHUT?!” That would be Karlach.

Vistri smirked at Astarion.

Brow raised, he remarked, “Looks like this time, we forgot to unlock the door.”

She snickered, “Ready to let them in?”

He made a show of thinking about it for a moment as kicks and insults shook the door, “Hmmm, I don’t know. I think we should make them wait.”

The burst of laughter that left Vistri was loud enough for the others to notice, and the muffled shouting now included their names.

Astarion rolled his eyes and got out of bed, “You’ve done it now, love.”

As he walked to the door, he took a look back at Vistri, who had sunk back into their bed, holding her sides in a laughing fit. He felt as free as she sounded, and so full of happiness Astarion couldn’t feel his feet on the ground.

Vistri was wearing his old shirt. She’d insisted on changing into it when they got dressed. Telling him she didn’t want to spend a second without him wrapped around her.

The sight made him smile so broadly his cheeks ached.

[croc-odette]

i put wyll and karlach in the 'our get along' shirt and then i turn back around 20 seconds later and they're tenderly holding hands and looking into each other's eyes

[keldae]

Borrowing

Sometimes, the evenings around camp were completely peaceful and uneventful. It was quiet, and soothing, and provided the party with time to relax before retiring to their tents for sleep.

And then sometimes a fallen log serving as an impromptu bridge would break while two members of the party were exploring around the campsite, dumping said members of the party into the river. Wyll and Devi, while able to keep their heads above water, weren't strong enough swimmers to get back to the riverbank against the strong current; Halsin had been obliged to shift into his bear form and dive in to help rescue both of them. 

Now that they were safe from the water and being brought back to the shelter of the campfire, Devi was shivering. The river water had been cold, and she was still recovering from her bout with pneumonia. Even Gale's arm around her shoulders, as the wizard tugged her closer to his side, didn't do much to warm her up. Wyll didn't appear to be much warmer, despite leaning on Karlach as he limped along; he had bashed his leg against a rock in the river as he'd fallen in. Devi featured scrapes and bruises, but she hadn't gotten hurt as badly as the warlock had. Ahead of them, Halsin lumbered along as a bear, dripping water from his fur.

The small group came back up to the campfire, and Wyll was immediately guided to sit on a rock near the fire. “Hold still and I'll heal you, then you can go get changed into something dry,” Shadowheart briskly said, hurrying up to her friend and setting her hands on his leg. “Devi, how badly are you hurt?”

“Nothing worth fussing over,” Devi assured the cleric through chattering teeth. “Just cold.”

She promptly felt Gale give her a gentle push to his tent. “Go get into something dry, love,” he said. If Devi focused, she could still hear the lingering anxiety in his voice that hadn't left since he'd shouted her name when she'd fallen into the river. “Shadowheart can heal you next.”

Nodding, Devi slipped out from under Gale's arm and scurried into his tent. Her cold fingers fumbled with the fastenings of her clothes; she shivered as she squirmed out of her wet garments. She tossed the soaked items through the tent flap, intending on bringing them to the fire to dry out once she was decent again.

That done, she started burrowing in her pack for her spare clothes. She pulled the pants on, along with her boots, then fished her tunic out of the pack. “Fucking hells,” she swore as she remembered the gaping hole in the garment from roughhousing with Scratch and Garmus the other night. The shirt sported a huge gash, courtesy of Garmus’ claws, right where it should have covered her breasts. Honestly, Devi knew she should be grateful that the owlbear cub hadn't accidentally sliced her skin as well, in his enthusiastic playing. Astarion had offered to fix the shirt for her, but Devi had completely forgotten to give the vampire the tunic, days ago.

She scowled, setting the shirt down on her lap, then eyed Gale's pack contemplatively. The polite thing to do, she supposed, would be to ask the wizard if he had a spare shirt that she could borrow. Gale was larger than she was, after all; it wasn't like she couldn't fit into his clothes. The idea of wearing his clothing felt… intimate, in a way that made her belly do flips. Was that normal for couples who were just starting a romance between them? Devi had had plenty of sexual encounters, but her experience with romance and intimacy was… limited, to put it mildly.

She poked her head out of the tent flap and looked around. Gale was nowhere to be easily seen; for that matter, neither were her wet clothes. She pursed her lips in thought, then withdrew back into the tent and crawled over to Gale's pack. Blue fabric, a rich deep colour that made Devi think of a night sky, beckoned her; she pulled out his spare shirt, eyeing it for a moment before she tugged it on over her head. Was it just her imagination, or did she already feel warmer, just from wearing her lover's clothes? She could smell Gale in the soft fabric, and took a moment to deeply inhale the scent of her wizard. It felt almost as good as a hug from him – a very loose hug, one that hung off her shoulders and bagged around her petite frame. Her fingertips just reached the edges of the embroidered sleeves; when she stood up, the hem of the sweater fell long enough to cover her hips.

Satisfied that she was decent, she picked up her damaged shirt and slipped out of the tent, making her way back to the roaring campfire. She was pleasantly surprised to see her clothes (and Wyll's) laid out on rocks near the flames to dry – someone must have fetched her wet items from outside of Gale’s tent. “Hey, Astarion,” she asked, spying the vampire seated near the fire, “is that offer to fix my shirt still on the table?”

“Ah, shit – I forgot about that,” Astarion said, looking up from his bowl of soup. “Give it to me, I'll mend it.” He paused, looking Devi up and down, and grinned. “Well, that's one way to get into Gale's clothing, darling…”

Hearing his name, Gale looked up as he returned from the other side of the camp – he must have gone to relieve himself. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of Devi wearing his shirt. Suddenly feeling guilty, Devi shifted under Gale's eyes. “I'm sorry I didn't ask,” she quickly said. “I just– I can ask someone else for a spare shirt if–”

“You will do no such thing,” Gale quickly said, coming up and setting his hands on Devi's waist. “You are…” He looked her over for another moment, his eyes soft. “You are beautiful. I didn't know that I needed to see you wearing my clothes before now… this alone is a sight to make me pleased that I'm still alive to see it. You look better in my clothes than I do.”

Pleased, Devi smiled and set her own hands on Gale's upper arms. “It's warm, and smells like you,” she softly said; she smirked at the sound of Astarion making exaggerated sounds of disgust nearby. “I may steal this shirt permanently.”

Gale chuckled. “First, you stole my blankets, and then you stole my heart… now you're stealing my clothes, too?”

“My goal is to make it so you have no choice but to be naked with me,” Devi cheekily said, and was gratified by the sight of Gale's ears going red. The wizard didn't appear displeased, to go by his grin. That pleased her almost as much as Astarion’s disgust. “Next, I plan on stealing your pants–”

“Oh, save me from you two being so nauseating,” Astarion loudly groaned. He got up, soup bowl in one hand and Devi's shirt in the other. “I'm going to go sit with Wyll. He at least isn't going to start with the talk of sappy romance.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wyll called over with a laugh from where he was sitting with Lae’zel, his own bowl of soup in hand, his legs stretched out comfortably in front of him with no lingering sign of injury. “I mean, I can absolutely go into detail on proper courtships…”  

“If Halsin didn't smell like a wet bear still, I would go sit with him instead,” Astarion muttered, looking at the still-damp cave bear curled up beside the fire. Halsin raised his ursine head and gave Astarion the best approximation of a grin that he could; that made the vampire make a face. “Oh, for fuck's sake. Is there no escape from the lovey-ness floating around here?”

Gale laughed and drew Devi into his arms. “All I’m going to point out,” he murmured into her ear, “is that Astarion made the poor choice of setting his tent beside ours, my love. Shall we make him regret his life choices tonight?”

“Oh, hell yes,” Devi said with a grin, snuggling into Gale’s chest. The warmth of his body holding her was as welcome as the security she felt of his arms wrapping around her back to hold her close.

“Excellent.” Gale kissed the top of Devi’s still-damp hair. “... When can I expect to have my shirt back, my star?”

Tilting her head up, Devi innocently blinked at Gale. “When I need you to wear it so it smells like you again?” She smiled as the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “I don’t know how they do it in Waterdeep, but this is a time-honoured tradition of Baldurian girls – to steal clothing items from their lovers.”

“Well, far be it from me to interfere with tradition,” Gale chuckled. He kissed Devi’s brow, then slowly let go of her, shifting to take her hand instead. “Come along. Let Shadowheart heal you from any wounds you took from falling in the river, and I’ll get a bowl of soup ready for you.”

A smile on her lips, Devi let Gale lead her to a spot close to the fire and nudge her to sit down. She let Shadowheart fuss over her for a moment as the healing spells were invoked, mending the bruises and scrapes she had accumulated in her fall; as the cleric sat back, Gale returned to Devi’s side, two bowls of soup in his hands. He handed her one, then sat down beside her with his own dinner; she happily snuggled into his side, feeling herself warming up from his presence beside her, and the hot bowl in her hands, and the roaring campfire before her, and the peaceful chatter of her friends around her.

And when Gale leaned over and whispered into her ear that he didn’t want her to wear a stitch of other clothing besides his stolen shirt when they retired for the evening, she felt herself heat up even more, deep within her body. She grinned and kissed Gale’s cheek, already looking forward to bedtime with her wizard.

[calypso707]

Did you get a request? It's an one shot for Astarion to react to gn crush who would always help him if they can but always refuse to repayed in any way whether it's money or anything else. Thanks!

For this request, I decided to simply make a part 2 of my OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin (pt 1). I thought it was a good fit for this idea! Enjoy! ♥

OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin (Pt 2).

You and your companions had been at Baldur's Gate for a few days now. You'd never really enjoyed life in the city, and certainly not here, where you could feel the poison spreading through the ground and into every living creature around you. Trees were dying, wild animals were fleeing, birds were silent.

During a seemingly routine patrol along the banks of the Chionthar River, you were ambushed by some disciples of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder. They outnumbered your group and seemed more dangerous every time. Since the death of Ketheric Thorm, Orin the Red had been tracking you like a predator watching and playing with its prey. The disciples under her command would do anything to spill your blood. Just as one of Bhaal's assassins dashed towards Astarion, dagger raised, you lifted your arm to imprison him with vines that you conjured up from the ground with your magic.

"Astarion, look out!" you cried.

You couldn't see if the enemy had managed to hit Astarion, for your attention was immediately diverted by another one who threw himself at you. You barely had time to drop ice spikes on him, which pierced his body from all sides, his knife merely grazing your cheek. As his lifeless body collapsed heavily at your feet, you looked towards Astarion, who had just thrust his blade into the heart of the man you had imprisoned earlier in your vines. Karlach and Lae'zel slaughtered the last ones who resisted them. Silence fell around you, it was finally over. You drew a breath and made the climbing plants disappear with a wave of your hand.

"'Is everyone alright?" you asked, wiping the blood from your cheek.

"Affirmative, soldier," Karlach replied.

"Tsk. Orin's tracking us like wild fowl, I cannot wait to give her a taste of my blade." added Lae'zel.

"Let's get back to camp" you announced.

Astarion seemed far too quiet for you. You still had enough strength left to open a portal leading directly to camp. Lae'zel and Karlach stepped through, soon followed by Astarion and you. A step through and you found yourself facing the campfire in the center of the old barn. Your eyes hovered over your three companions standing beside you. Karlach had a few scratches but didn't seem to be suffering, Lae'zel had superficial wounds that still merited some treatment, and Astarion seemed to be fine - well, he seemed elsewhere.

You thanked Halsin and Shadowheart, who had come to treat the wounded. You chose to treat your wounds alone with your own ointments and elixirs. As you headed for your tent, footsteps behind you made you turn around. It was Astarion.

"Are you wounded?" you asked, worried.

"Well.. Yes," he sighed, pouting.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"For nothing in the world would I miss an opportunity to be healed by my favorite druid." he grinned, winking.

You sighed at his words. Despite his smile, you noticed his discomfort, you tried to examine him carefully and found the source of his pain, a cut on the inside of his arm. The blood dripping from it blended in with the dark fabric of his outfit. You let him into your tent, your little sanctuary had become very familiar to him. This time, however, he didn't sit, he stood. You approached him and started undoing the buttons on his jacket, then on the shirt underneath. You could feel his gaze scrutinizing your every move, but you remained focused. You were imperturbable, especially when it came to treating wounds. You slid your hands under the fabric and against his skin, the contrast of his icy skin against yours always surprised you. You slid the garment as gently as possible.

"This is getting ridiculous,' finally said Astarion.

"What's that?" you asked without understanding and without taking your eyes off his wound. The blade had ripped his skin, but if care was taken, it would heal properly.

"This. You keep helping me, at the risk of getting yourself hurt. This is ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous, the situation was under control," you replied. It wasn't totally true, though; you'd just been lucky and had a good reflex.

You grabbed a wooden bowl containing a mixture of weavemoss and mugwort bundle that would stop the bleeding. Your touch and the coolness of the mixture made him shiver, its effect was immediate, the blood stopped. You wrapped the wound in a clean bandage then you finally looked at him. His scarlet eyes never left your face.

"Your compulsive kindness sickens me," continued Astarion. "I am forever in your debt, and I do not know how to repay it. Tell me what you want. Tell me what to do."

You kept staring at him, completely stunned by his words, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. For him, pure altruism didn't exist. Life was just a succession of exchanges or debts that absolutely had to be repaid. You wanted him to see beyond that.

"I don't want anything in return, Astarion. Why is it so hard for you to understand that I'm doing this because I care about you?" you replied. "I simply don't want to lose you"

Astarion seemed genuinely troubled by your words. You'd never been false to him. You cared about this vampire spawn. You'd shared many moments together, but the ones you preferred, apart from the nights spent by his side, were when you treated his scars or healed his wounds. These were intimate moments, that you cherished because they allowed you to discover his vulnerability. The same vulnerability you were seeing at that very moment. He allowed himself to emerge from the darkness of his past that threatened to envelop him to stand in the light beside you.

"It is even more annoying." he sighed. He moved his hand over your cheek, sliding his thumb over the dried blood that had drained from your cut. "But I rather like that idea, that you care about me."

.。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜

i'm not totally satisfied with what I've written but thank you for reading it, feel free to check out my other writings on Astarion! ♥︎♥︎

Astarion x gn reader : On your skin (pt 1)

Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree

[wrightingdungeon]

BG3 companion's reactions to Tav singing a lullaby.

I did it! "Take that depression!" - Lucifer Morningstar, Hazbin Hotel

Fluff ahead, grab the cocco and blankeys

Pre-Story:

After accepting Yenna and Grub into the camp, a little peace settled over the group. Watching the crackling fire late at night, Yenna slowly approached Tav, tugging on their shirt. “I can't sleep… Mummy always sang to me… Can you sing, Tav?” Her dual-colored eyes glistened with tears, and she held Grub close to her body. Tav agreed, carefully scooping up the child into their arms, and began to sing a lullaby their mother used to sing when they were young.

“Close your eyes, my little star, The moon is watching from afar. Dreamland calls, it's time to go, Where gentle breezes softly blow. Hush-a-bye, my sweet delight, Sleepy whispers fill the night. Angels guard you, safe and sound, Love and peace all around. Twinkling stars and lullabies, Dancing in your dreamy skies. Rest your head on pillows soft, In the clouds, you'll float aloft. Hush-a-bye, my sweet delight, Sleepy whispers fill the night. Angels guard you, safe and sound, Love and peace all around. Close your eyes and drift away, To a land where fairies play. Magic dreams will hold you tight, Through the calm and quiet night. Hush-a-bye, my sweet delight, Sleepy whispers fill the night. Angels guard you, safe and sound, Love and peace all around. Nighttime’s here, the day is done, Sleep, my dear, 'til morning sun. In my arms, you're safe to stay, Dreaming dreams till break of day.”

Astarion: Waiting for the camp to sleep before he headed out for a snack, he looked over upon hearing Yenna and Tav talking. Curious about what could have kept the child up so late, he listened closely. When he heard Tav begin to sing, he slinked over, peeking at the pair. Watching the person who had accepted him with open arms, continuing to be caring. It was a foreign feeling for him to be surrounded by kind people, but a change he welcomed with open arms.

Gale: Hearing a sweet lullaby, he placed his book down and headed toward the song, wondering who would be singing this late into the night. He smiled softly when he saw Tav holding Yenna close, protecting her from the fear of the night and lulling her to sleep. He waved his hand and whispered a few words; dancing lights in the form of little purple fireflies began to swirl around the pair, adding to the calm.

Halsin: Lying out and gazing at the stars, connecting the constellations and relaxing for the night, his ears perked up upon hearing a lullaby floating through the camp. Getting up, he followed it, humming along to the tune. Seeing their fearless leader holding Yenna as if she were a delicate baby made his heart swell with admiration. He admired how Tav could face so much, yet still find the time to drop their walls and show vulnerability.

Karlach: She was curled up on her bedroll, ready to fall asleep, but soon she heard Tav singing. Getting up, she grabbed Clive and her bedroll and moved closer to the main fire. Laying down and listening to Tav sing with a smile on her face, she felt happy. This was nothing like Avernus; this felt like she was back at home with her mom singing to her. Holding Clive close to her, she let out a large yawn as her eyes slowly grew heavy, lulled to sleep by Tav.

Lae’zel: Meditating for the night, clearing her head preparing for sleep. Her ears perked up hearing a child's song she opened her eyes, wondering what the kainyank *Brat* had done. Getting up she followed the noise finding Tav holding a sleeping Yenna. She listened to the Lullaby intently having never heard one, the Varsh *Gith babysitter essentially* had never sung.

Minthara: Staying up to help watch, her ears perked upon hearing Yenna talking to Tav. Silently watching as Tav pulled her into their body and began rocking her, singing to her. She had heard lullabies, but Menzoberranzan lullabies held songs of spiders, the dark, and the occasional murder. Hearing a lullaby from the surface, it was far from her childhood songs.

Shadowheart: Preparing for bed, she said her prayers and laid down, getting comfortable. She heard the sound of a lullaby gracing her ears. Looking up, she could see Tav and Yenna from her tent. Rolling onto her side and using her arm as a pillow, she quietly watched, somewhat remembering her own mother singing to her once the sun had set.

Wyll: Bringing his chalice to his lips, he sipped on his wine, winding down from the day's work. Smiling at the sound of a child's lullaby dancing through the camp, he hummed along, slightly swaying to the song. It was a nice break from the usual quiet nights they had so often. It reminded him of his nursemaids and how they would sing him to sleep.

Bonus round

Out of canon just cus I said so. *Orin breaking when being told the truth of her birth kinda inspired this, poor baby.*

Orin: Infiltrating the camp was like taking candy from a baby; the cat had caught on, but the rest of the camp was none the wiser. Walking up to Tav, her eyes big, wet, and doe-like, she tugged on Tav’s shirt. “I can't sleep… Mummy always sang to me… Can you sing, Tav?” Orin wanted to see how close Tav would let her. Surprised when Tav picked her up and held her close, she looked up at them before curling into their chest, keeping up the act. Tav was warm, smelled nice, and sang quite well. A yawn escaped Orin's mouth as her eyes fought to stay open. Her dreams were filled with the beautiful screams of the camp; the child's lullaby, soft and sweet, floated through the screams.

[sixteenstrikes]

Camp that night’s brutal. Karlach and Fringe end up carrying Wyll between themselves; Gale’s about dead, Fangs is bitching everyone’s ears off with himself scared to the narrow bone from getting dragged off by shadows until Wyll charged in and saved him and paid badly for it; Chanterelle’s in front with Lae’zel hanging off her shoulder, trailing blood. Dolly flits in and over Wyll’s horns. Only he can ever understand her, or maybe Karlach’s head is too mudgy from the bloodyfucking hit she took on the bridge to catch any of the poor girl’s tiny sparkling voice.

Usually she and Wyll would banter stupid bits back and forth to keep each other moving through the cleanup; tonight she sits with him while Shadowheart coaxes him back from Death’s door, and grips his sweet fool hand in hers, and prays to anyone who’s listening.

“I can’t work on him with you hanging around,” Shadowheart says at last. Alright. Fangs is going on in Gale’s ear and doesn’t want to make himself friendly. Gale doesn’t seem to know he’s being talked to. The druid’s praying.

It’s not too much, is it, to sit down with a friendly ear, to have someone who— to—

Karlach tromps down the row of tents to the shadow-gnawed edge of camp, sits there with Fringe’s bandages and a headache. Feels too much like Avernus. Patching herself up in the dark. Hells, what she’d do for a drink.

“Karlach.” Lae’zel’s voice— crisp as any hellish commander— Karlach smartens up on reflex. She watches Lae’zel appear out of the dark behind the row of tents, bandaged and bruised, moving stiffly. Chanterelle is plunking along behind with her shirt hanging tits-open and a Lae-shaped bite on her neck.

“You alright, soldier?”

“Flesh wounds,” Lae’zel dismisses. “You seek solitude.”

“Not really,” she admits. “Can’t be underfoot.”

“Wyll is alright,” Chanterelle says. Karlach could kiss her. She smiles like she knows what Karlach’s thinking. Her eyes flash with her oath.

“None of that,” Karlach protests, half-hearted. Chanterelle’s so good when you want someone for mending; she kisses Karlach’s forehead and gods, a rush of green living voices, clean air, the smell of her ma’s old shawl, a cold river running through her veins. The engine rests.

“What do you require,” says Lae’zel.

“Catnap before I swing my axe around again.”

“A kiss,” Chanterelle smiles.

“A… aw, soldier, that’s…”

Chanterelle roots her hand in Lae’zel’s hair and kisses her deep and slowly without preamble; Lae’zel’s sulfur-bright eyes watch Karlach over Chanterelle’s burly shoulder, with her tongue a league somewhere down Chanterelle’s throat.

“Do not deny yourself,” she says when Chanterelle pulls away. “We do not fear these hells.”

“Not fear, just machinery. Seeing you lot is enough, alright?”

“Ice,” Chanterelle says. Lae’zel rolls her eyes.

“The wizard is useless at present.”

“Then go lightly.”

“Show me,” Lae’zel commands.

Chanterelle smiles at her. She steps in close and kisses Karlach softly on the lips.

The engine thunders in her ribcage. But hells, no smell of singed flesh. She shuts her eyes and Chanterelle’s mouth brushes the bridge of her nose, each eyelid, down her cheek to the hinge of her jaw. Her hand falls gently over Karlach’s hair, to her shoulder, and the roaring exhaust.

Lae’zel takes Karlach’s hip in hand; rubs a thumb at the base of her tail. “Kiss her throat.”

The engine steams. Chanterelle smiles— Karlach can feel her smiling— kissing down the length of Karlach’s neck, long and breathless; too long for safety, one of them long enough to leave a mark. A hot spark snaps in Chanterelle’s teeth and the mad bastard goes on smiling.

“Don’t roast yourself,” Karlach rasps. A last kiss brands itself at the nape of her neck. When she opens her eyes Lae’zel has come up on tiptoe to kiss her on the mouth. The strong hand she’s got around Karlach’s hip pulls her forward into sharp teeth and tongue. “Lae…”

“Hush.”

Chanterelle presses in close and safe behind her, big hands at her back, then her waist. A light kiss pressed between her shoulder blades. Lae’zel’s teeth along her lip. The hellfire’s high. She rips her mouth free before Lae’zel can burn and her heart’s ghost begins to cry in her chest.

“You alright?” She grabs Lae’zel by the chin, turning her face left and right to check for blisters. Lae’zel’s eyes flash hot. She doesn’t protest the handling.

“She’s alright.” Chanterelle settles her chin on Karlach’s shoulder. The heat doesn’t get to her there; by a small miracle Karlach’s still wrapped loosely in her arms. If the world were any sort of fair she’d lean back and get another kiss.

“Gods, I’d have you both if I could.”

“Show some initiative,” Lae’zel barks.

“Come on, Lae. You know I can’t.”

Chanterelle’s mouth drags down her scarred shoulder, light as a whisper. “Kiss her hand,” she murmurs. Karlach’s breath catches.

Lae’zel brings Karlach’s hand crisply to her mouth to kiss her bruised knuckles. “Ch’k. These are sore.”

“Karlach.” Chanterelle, kissing her shoulder still.

“Just a ding. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

Chanterelle has both her hands clasped around Karlach’s belly, where her belt is thick against the heat; she pulls one hand loose so Lae’zel can lay Karlach’s to rest in it, and a thread of gold-green fizzes from her fingers to Karlach’s skin. Halls of endless trees whisper through a door of faith. Twinge in her hand fades off.

“Ah, hells,” Karlach sighs. Chanterelle hums against her skin. Another breath-light kiss.

“I must take watch,” Lae’zel says, adjusting her scabbard. Her hair’s still half tangled from where Chanterelle ran her hand through it. Karlach’s blood stirs comfortably as coals. She could live off a sight like that, for a little while. For another century-long day of getting the shit kicked out of her in the shadows.

Lae’zel never looks back. Watching her cross the camp, the Reithwin night is almost cold.