Bg3 Fanfic Idea - Tumblr Posts
Least fav part of bg3 is that minthata ISN'T seen slaying this dastardly type of fit at the epilogue. Truly a tragedy /j đ˘


A dress made of rotten mindflayer tentacles goes even harder than orin's skinsut
Mermaid whiskey.
Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 2 weeks after BG3 final battle, Elfsong Tavern. Rating/Warnings: M+ / Smut / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers/allusions to events in same. Word Count: 4.3K Notes: Originally meant for this to be a funny little thing inspired by "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off" by Joe Nichols. But apparently tequila doesn't exist in DND. So, I crossed it with "Whiskey Girl" by Toby Keith and things quickly devolved into smut and here we are. This OneShot barely won in my poll over a fluff piece, so here you go, horndogs. ;)

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Two weeks after the final battle, Astarion is lounging by the crackling fireplace on the upper level of the Elfsong Tavern, a large goblet of red wine in one hand and a book in the other.
Everyone else spent time after the battle exploring the city or downstairs drinking and celebrating their victory as they all prepared to move onto new adventures. But Astarion had chosen nearly every opportunity over the past two weeks to hang back and enjoy some much-deserved alone time. Now that the constant worries about Cazador and the overall impending doom of Baldurâs Gate were all behind him, the rogue threw himself into finding bits of individual enjoyment whenever and wherever he could. He'd fixated himself on hobbies and leisure, and reading had seemed an obvious first choice. He'd easily idle hours away, sometimes reading an entire book cover to cover in one sitting.
Often, you would sit with the elf as he read, snuggled in a blanket or cuddled up against your love, but eventually you always got the urge to get up and do something else. You'd tried on more than one occasion to interest the rogue in another activity, but Astarion remained glued to the couch for those two weeks, barely stepping away to hunt, bathe, or trance. You'd noted, with a bit of concern, that he hadn't even asked to feed on you in more than a tenday.
Tonight, youâd tried more than once to pull him down to the tavern, but the elf quickly refused, barely lifting his eyes from the pages in front of him. Astarion seemed particularly obsessed with this book; you were almost convinced heâd already finished it and had started a second reading.
Several hours passed while you socialized down at the bar and Astarion's perfect nose stayed wedged in a book before a very tipsy Karlach decided to climb the stairs and speak to the vampire. âOi! Câmon, Astarion! Close that dusty tome and join the fun. Weâll all only be together for a few more days. Me, Laeâzel, Shadowheart, and Tav are taking shots!â
The vampireâs ears perk up and he furrows his brow at the woman, snapping his book shut in the process. âShots? Of what, exactly?â
âMermaid Whiskey!â
âOh no. Oh no, no, no! Karlach! Mermaid Whiskey practically makes Tavâs clothes fall off!â
Astarion is on his feet now, the book abandoned as he rushes past the Tiefling and down the flight of stairs into the tavern. He quickly spots the silky blue bandana you use to tie your hair up at camp strewn upon a forgotten bar stool. Knowing itâs possibly your most prized article of clothing, the elf tucks it into his back pocket. Scarlet eyes perform a hurried scan of the room and the vampire bristles when youâre nowhere to be found.
The others are still at the bar, where Laeâzel just challenged a bartender to an arm-wrestling competition. The women warriors are cheering Laeâzel on as sheâs locked in a stalemate with the man.
âShadowheart, have you seen Tav?â
Shadowheart barely acknowledges the vampire, too engrossed in the show. âWhat do you mean? Sheâs rightââ Her gaze flicks to the abandoned stool as Laeâzel successfully slams the workerâs hand onto the sticky bar, causing the campmates and some other patrons to erupt into cheers. âShe was right there a moment ago.â
Astarion runs a stressed hand through his curled hair, inspecting the room for any sign of you. Soon enough, he spots a familiar pair of shoes and hurries to them, eyes already searching for the next clue. A discarded earring floating in a glass of half-drunk whiskey is sat on the bottom step of the stairs. That hadnât been there when he descended down them, had it?
The vampireâs gaze trails up the stairwell and his suspicions are confirmed. Your navy-blue dress is draped across the back of an armchair he can barely see from his low vantage point.
âShe mustâve snuck around when I was talking to Shadowheart.â
The rogue dashes up the stairs to find you reclined on a chaise lounge, body flushed from the whiskey coursing through your veins. You are strewn suggestively across the chaise, clothed in only your laced undergarments and thigh high stockings. The alluring vision caused Astarion's heart to leap into his throat.
âDarling, what on earth do you think youâre you doing? Youâre barely clothed in the middle of the tavern. This isnât the wilds anymore.â
Youâre lying on your side when Astarion finds you, and you pout in his direction as he scolds you, waving a dismissive hand. You roll onto your stomach, bending your knees and crossing your legs. Youâre pleased to see the vampire's gaze drag down your body, pausing at the curve of your bottom, before flitting back to your face. Astarion licks his lips as he looks at you, the first sign that your little plan is working. Youâve finally gotten his attention after trying to steal him away from that damned book he was so enamored with all night.
âI know my love, but Iâm just so unbelievably hot right now. You wouldnât believe how hot I feel.â
Astarion quickly crosses the few feet between you two, placing a cool, concerned hand on your flushed cheek. âHow many shots did you take?â
âOh, just two. Maybe three? I kept losing the stupid ânever have I ever gameâ because everyone made all their questions about vampires.â You pout at your lover again before turning your head to press your lips against his thumb, lingering there intentionally, your wide eyes still focused on the rogue.
Astarion was no fool. With your mouth holding his thumb in that suggestive manner, he soon realized what you were doing. You adored the vampire with your entire heart, but on your drunken nights, you knew how to be a perfectly tempting, needy little brat. âAnd why, my sweet, did you keep playing the game if it was so clearly rigged against you?â
You groan, moving to a sitting position, while your hands toy with the laces of your bodice. âBecauseâŚâ You sharply tug at the flouncy strings and Astarionâs hand catches yours in a tight grip, moments before youâre about to expose your breasts in the center of the lounge. âYouâve barely paid attention to me the past two weeks⌠and I was lonely and bored and wanted to have fun.â
âDarling, I know what youâre doing... I thought we agreed that tonight youâd go to the bar, and I would stay up here.â Astarion murmurs, nimble fingers toying with the strings of your bodice. He tries to resist the temptation to look down at your cleavage and fails; you see his eyes roll up in annoyance at himself and his inability to fight off his baser instincts in your presence. Inside youâre practically giddy that youâre winning the charade, but you keep the pout plastered to your face.
âWe didnât agree to anything, my Star. You didn't give me a choice.â You huff, pointedly brushing your hair away from your neck to reveal the little pinprick scars made by your lover. The rogue's eyes trail to the marks and he licks his lips again, suddenly quite aware of how long itâs been since heâs sunk his fangs into your flesh.
Gods you were frustrating. Astarion both loathed and loved that you could play him like a lyre; you knew him so well that you understood exactly what would make him tick. Every. Single. Time.
The vampire shakes his head, trying to rattle the fantasies out of his brain and not allow you the upper hand. You were being ridiculous; if youâd wanted attention, you shouldâve just asked instead of acting out. Trying to turn the conversation, Astarion asks, âWhat is it you even like about whiskey? Itâs vile.â
You sigh and roll your eyes before sliding off the chaise and sauntering away from the elf. For a moment you think heâs going to let you leave, but then heâs trailing after you like a lost puppy and you know you've got him hooked.
âExcuse me? Youâre just going to walk away? Conversation over?â
You shrug and sigh again, stopping just in front of the door to your bedchamber. You turn to face the rogue, leaning back against the door and crossing your arms. Astarionâs eyes are narrowed as he stares at you with some level of frustration and incredulity at your antics.
âIf you must know, I suppose I like a bit of edge⌠and a bit of pain with my pleasure.â Your voice is coy, eyebrow raised, and you're fully leaning into the innuendo of your statement. âAnd you like that I like it... donât you?â
Astarion chuckles at this, a smirk ghosting his lips. âYou are a wicked little thing, arenât you? Using my own games and my own tactics against me now?â
Youâre wearing a mischievous grin as the rouge saunters forward, closing the distance between your bodies. He firmly grasps your chin in his hand, scarlet eyes studying your face. Just as his lips brush against yours, and you're thinking you've won this little game, you murmur, âI guess the apprentice has become the master.â
Astarion pauses and draws back for a moment, the darkening of his gaze and his raised eyebrow causing you to shudder where you stand as he grips a bit tighter on your chin. âOh darling. Youâre cute. But now I think I have to teach you a lesson and remind you who the master truly is here.â
And then his lips are on yours, fangs clashing roughly into teeth. He feels for the knob behind you and turns it, forcing you both into the room before unceremoniously slamming the door closed. Your mouths are melded together as the vampire effortlessly guides you to the bed and shoves you into the mattress. Quick, pale hands tug at the strings of your bodice and your breasts are released from their confines, spilling out in front of the vampireâs eager gaze as he drags the undergarment off your arms and throws it aside.
Then Astarion grabs something from his back pocket â your blue bandana â and dangles it in front of you with a mock-condescending pout on his lips. All you can think about in that moment is how you want to take that pout into your own lips and bite.
âDarling, you left this downstairs and I had to retrieve it. I think I may need to teach you to take care of your belongings. You only have two of these, my love, and I know you would be so desperate to find them if they were permanently lost, wouldnât you?â
You nod as you reach for your bandana, but Astarion is faster and pulls it away just in time, smirking at you all the while. âCome to think of it⌠where is your other bandana, my sweet?â
"It's in here." You murmur, lips already swollen from the rough kiss he'd pulled you into. You turn to the nightstand and withdraw your second bandana, an identical twin to the first. Astarion quickly takes it from your hand and grins mischievously, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as the silken fabric glides from your fingers.
âGood girl. Now, give me your hands.â
You oblige and the rogue deftly binds your wrists together with an expertly tied knot. He tugs at the bindings, testing their strength. Astarion lifts your hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of one before taking the second bandana and folding it into a long strip. Your eyes are fixated on his lithe fingers. Then he presses forward, face mere inches from yours. His eyes are dark and intense, but glimmering with adoration all the same, in a way that floods you with the overwhelming sensation of excitement and safety all in one.
âYouâll let me know if itâs too much, won't you, my love?â
âY-yes.â You whisper, almost breathlessly and wholly impatient for what is coming next. Your body still burns with desire and Mermaid Whiskey. The last thing you see is Astarionâs eyes before the second bandana shrouds you in darkness.
Cool hands guide you to lay back onto the mattress and soon enough long, nimble fingers languidly trace their way down your body. You feel Astarionâs hands ghost over your arms, down your collarbone, and then trail circles around your breasts where he gives both nipples a gentle, teasing tug before moving on. His fingers brush your abdomen, around the curve of your hips, down the tops of your thighs, and finally to your calves. Then his lips press to your foot, and he works at pressing feather light kisses up your leg.
He continues kissing up your right leg for what seems like forever, fingers still moving tantalizingly along your calf and thigh. By the time the vampire makes his way back up to the top of your thigh, you are wiggling and keening in anticipation. He hovers over your still-clothed mound for a few beats before shifting slightly and returning to kissing down your left leg. You whine in disappointment, your bound hands straining against the fabric as you try to grip your lover. A dark chuckle is all you get in response as Astarion continues to kiss your opposing thigh, nibbling here and there, at a rate that seems somehow even slower than the first leg he worshipped.
By the time heâs placing a kiss to the top of your left foot, youâre writhing wholeheartedly, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to give yourself more stimulation. You donât dare use your bound hands, knowing the punishment would be further binding and teasing. Astarion unhurriedly runs his hands up your legs once again, stopping to draw leisurely circles at the apex of your thighs before tracing one chilled finger along the waistband of your underwear.
âA-Astarion!â You choke out with another whine, just as the vampire runs that same finger down your still-clothed slit, feeling the wetness now soaking through the fabric from his torments.
Your lover chuckles in dark delight. âIâve barely even touched you, my needy little love, and yet here you are, positively soaked. Your lesson is far from over, darling.â
There is a moment of silence apart from soft rustling; you cannot see anything, but your ears pick up the sound of Astarionâs buckle coming undone. And then you feel his weight on top of you. You can tell heâs still wearing his briefs as he presses his groin against your sex, legs straddling either side of your hips. Suddenly you feel a sharp pinch on both your nipples. Your back arches in response to the sensation while a pleading groan shoots from your mouth.
âMm⌠I think you quite like that, donât you?â
âY-yes!â Is all you can reply as you feel Astarion's cold hands kneading the flesh of your breasts before he resumes pinching the swollen buds.
You try to buck your hips, but the bastard knows what heâs doing, and heâs got you pinned perfectly beneath him in a way that renders you all but helpless. Your bound hands search for Astarionâs body, and you barely graze against his abdominals before the vampire rips your hands away with a little tut, laying nearly all his body weight atop you as he raises your hands up over your head. You can feel his breath against your ear before he takes the lobe in his mouth and nibbles. Gods the torture was becoming unbearable. You buck again, another frustrated whine escaping your lips.
âShhh now, darling. Shame we donât have a third bandana or you would be gagged. We are quite impatient today, arenât we?â
You whimper as he continues the abuse to your ear before trailing his tongue down to your neck. âMy little whiskey girlâŚâ His lips hover over that familiar little spot on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. Your pulse jumps to greet your lover. âMay I?â
You barely nod, âYes. Please.â
Astarion groans at your response, thrusting his hips forward to press his rock-hard bulge into your folds. You feel a sharp, icy sting in your neck before your body gives way to the delectable ripples of pleasure. The vampire laps from you lazily, rutting against your mound, the still-clothed underside of his cock sawing torturously between the folds of your still-clothed but now dripping slit. He continues suckling, not really drinking for sustenance but more for his own pleasure, his hardening member abusing your swollen clit. Youâre keening again, and one of his hands moves to tease your nipple while the other gets lost in your hair, holding you in place as he takes his lazy laps.
âA-Astarion. Astarion! Please, Iâm gonnaââ
But before you can finish, you feel the wave of pleasure crashing over you and your legs are trembling as you find your release. The elf groans again as you orgasm, now suckling and rutting with more fervor as the taste of your ecstasy courses through your veins. When the crescendo wanes and youâre left panting, Astarion retracts his fangs from your neck with a pleased little hum.
Suddenly the bandana is pulled from your eyes, and you blink, adjusting to the light. The vampire is still straddling you, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face as he wipes the final rivet of blood from his mouth and licks it off his thumb. âSatisfied, darling? Have I paid enough attention to you now?â
You groan and buck your hips again, your drenched undergarments barely rubbing against the rogueâs stiff cock. âNo!â You shriek as your bound hands pound back into the mattress.
Astarionâs lips are on yours anew, swallowing your protests as he delves his tongue into your eager mouth. You taste the iron of your own blood and groan, writhing against him and desperately pulling at your bindings. When the rogue pulls back he chuckles before easily delving two fingers inside your ruined undergarments, curling his fingers to barely strum against your swollen clit. You try to arch to meet his digits with a desperate, pleading moan, but the weight of him on your legs keeps you pinned, and you cry out.
âPlease, please, please.â You whine in a soft chant coming from your lips, still using all of your strength to barely buck your hips. Your hands are twisting desperately in their bindings. âPlease, please, please.â
âSuch a needy little thing, arenât you, my love?â He coos, continuing to barely tease your throbbing clit with expert fingers. âWhat is it that you want?â
âYou know what I want!â You hiss through gritted teeth, your frustration bubbling over as the rogue torments that sensitive nub between your legs.
âHmm⌠perhaps I do. But you need to ask for the things that you want, my sweet. The parasite is gone and Iâm no mind reader.â
âPlease put your cock inside me! Please.â
âHmm... there we are. Thatâs my good girl. Now, was that really so hard, little love?"
Before you can answer, Astarionâs mouth is enveloping yours as he works to quickly remove his own undergarments. The feeling of his barren member on your mound renews your desperation and you keen into your lover's mouth, causing him to smirk into the kiss. He quickly maneuvers his knee to the inside of your thigh, hitching his own leg up to spread you wide, granting him full access to your sex. Deft fingers slide the thin, arousal-soaked cloth of your underwear aside and then you feel the head of his cock pressed just against your entrance.
âWho do you belong to, my love?â The vampire asks when he pulls away from the kiss, scarlet eyes peering into yours. Heâs rocking his hips just slightly, the tip of his member barely teasing in and out of your desperate pussy. He brings his hand to the side of your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek.
âYou, Astarion.â You whisper, so entranced by the look in his eyes and the feeling of his cock pressing into you that you can barely think or breath. You try to thrust down to meet your lover's miniscule ministrations, but his other hand has your hip pinned in place.
âGive me your hands again.â
You oblige, and the rogue quickly undoes your fastenings, gently pressing his lips into the angry red marks around your wrists. He takes one of your hands and interlaces your fingers in his. Astarion pins one hand back above your head, but allows you the freedom of the other hand, which you bring to the side of his neck.
Then the vampire kisses you once more. As his lips press into yours, his cock slides into your eagerly awaiting cunt. Every ripple of Astarion's thick shaft makes your body sing in delight, and you're groaning into the elf's mouth as he begins to make fervent love to you, hips snapping with vigor as he sheaths and unsheathes himself in a steady rhythm.
âYou are⌠entirely infuriating⌠and vexing, sometimes. Do you know that, little love?â He purrs between his lips enveloping yours, tongue exploring your mouth. The vampire plunges into you with steady determination, slowly picking up his tempo.
Youâre breathless, rolling your hips to meet the rogueâs. Your eyes are shut as you smirk at his comment. âI know.. I just think youâre so sexy when youâre frustrated.â You respond between panting breaths, and that earns you a rough thrust that hits your cervix and knocks the air from your lungs as you moan in surprise.
Astarionâs hand that isnât intertwined with yours comes under your chin and takes a firm hold, pressing just enough on your windpipe to create the delicious feeling of breathlessness without actually preventing you from breathing. Your eyes snap open from the sensation.
âYou. Are. A. Naughty. Girl.â He hisses, eyes boring into your own, face mere inches from yours, and each word punctuated by another forceful snap of his hips. You moan at the feeling of his length slamming into your cervix. By this time, heâs panting and the flush on his ears is rising, and you know heâs close to his own release. One of Astarion's fingers is lingering dangerously close to your mouth as he clutches your neck; you take the digit between your lips and begin to suck.
As the vampire sees your tongue snake around his finger, heâs done for. All resolve is gone, and your lover fucks into you with reckless abandon as you moan around his hand. The grip on your neck tightens as he starts to emit his own cries of pleasure, and your hand wraps tightly onto his neck in response, nails digging into cold flesh.
âDo you see what you do to me?â He asks through gritted teeth as his thrusts become sloppy. Youâre seeing stars, and the friction of his pelvis paired with the intense throbbing of your abused pussy is sending you towards a second climax. As your body reaches its crescendo, you release Astarionâs finger from between your lips and cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The rogue hears your beautiful cry and feels the pulsing of your sex, which finally pushes him over the edge as he spills into you, cock twitching with every new stream of seed.
His mouth is on yours before you finish your strangled cry of release, and Astarionâs works to kiss you down from your incredible high. The vampire releases your neck, and the passionate force of his lips slowly ebbs into a gentle, lazy kiss. Eventually, with both of your bodies fully spent, the rogue rolls onto his side, sliding himself from you and spilling the evidence of your love making across the silky sheets.
Astarion rolls from the bed, and you whine, but he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he promises he will be right back. He slips his trousers on and exits the room for a minute, only to return with the book he seemed obsessed with. Part of you is annoyed when the rogue settles back into bed, opening his arm so you can nestle yourself in the crook.
You give him a little pout. âDo you not love me more than you love these books? Iâm beginning to worry Iâve coupled myself to another Gale. I was sure that tonight would distract you and I would have you all to myself.â
Astarion chuckles, shaking his head slightly before turning to kiss you on the forehead. âMy sweet, surely you know the depths of my love for you far surpass the pages of a book. And you are always distracting... even when I am thinking of something else, I am also thinking of you.â
He shuts the book and taps his hand on the cover, lithe fingers moving to trace the embossed words of the title. âI apologize if Iâve been consumed and youâve felt neglected, my darling. This book is just⌠intriguing.â
You turn your head and for the first time, read the title: âThe Creation of Dhampirs: A Guide.â
Oh.
Your brow furrows as you turn to look at Astarion, and you see a wistful, faraway look in his eyes. This look was different from his unfortunately familiar one that he displayed during flashbacks and night terrors⌠this one contained hope.
âAre you imagining your future, Astarion?â You ask, sitting up just enough to place a kiss on your loverâs cheek and brush a few wayward curls back into place. âIf you are, then Iâd better be there by your side.â
The rogue snaps out of his reverie and turns to look at you again, his expression laced with love. He extends his long arm backwards, dropping the tome on the nightstand before placing his hand on your face. Astarionâs thumb strokes your cheek and he sighs happily before whispering, âYes, youâd better be.â
hey yall i need some anrgy halsin fic recs. where are my hurt/comfort halsin fics at. i need my angst core halsin fics now.
HIHI imma start writing for baulders gate !
so i need requests amd ideas!
* i will write for any gender tav.
*will write any genre you're wanting <3
* i will NOT writing anything homophobic, rasist, transphobic, or where tav is a minor.
so please feel free to send me ur requests!
-eepy_writer