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#gortash x reader
🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader
Not proofread!
# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible
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He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.
They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.
The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.
Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...
The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.
They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.
"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.
He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.
Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.
He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.
But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.
But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.
A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.
"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"
The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.
He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."
There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.
What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.
It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.
"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."
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gortashs-skidmark · 23 hours
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Little E.G. Drabble
Premise: You’re his betrothed, his loved- his lover, and he can be a dick about it sometimes.
18+ MNDI NSFW
CONTENT WARNING: Manipulation, lack of efficient communication, NSFW
𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅
To the public, you were Gortash’s Side Piece, his Partner. But when you’re alone, he is your Enver and you are his beloved.
At his public events, you were draped in elegant fabrics. You sat to the right of the back pews, or stood to the back left of him, or at the side of the supper table. Softened features and an elegant stature, you exuded. In reality you were your own person, quite and obedient but not lacking in character by any means.
You painted yourself up when you had to. You loved to do so, it was a special occasion to make yourself pretty. And on the days you didn’t, Enver sent you to Figaro on a whim.
But Enver knew you better, a secret he cherished from the world. You loved to let your hair get frizzy and wild. you would wear mascara to bed. You got up to piss in the night endlessly, and you’d meet his gaze while he read in bed next to you. You’d get shy and turn red. He didn’t sleep often. And you slept in a lot.
You would stutter over your words and go silent, in shock over your stupid fumble. He’d smile with a little bit of teeth when that would happen. You weren’t akin to magic because you lacked concentration. Easily distracted and inconsistent. You got better, he would implement mediation into your schedule.
If anyone knew you, it was Enver. The in’s and out’s and the deepest colors of your soul. He used it against you, and he would apologize but it didn’t change the next time it happened.
He’s a vain, selfish piece of shit, and you want to look past it so you let him repeatedly run you over, thinking maybe that this time, talking to him about the problem would work. But he just swears it won’t happen again and undermines his promises.
You didn’t speak to people when you were out in public with him. Your tongue tripped over itself often and you were deeply afraid of looking stupid. You had a guard or two blocking anyone from reaching your presence to ask you questions. Enver appreciated this insecurity of yours. You might look crazy if you ever lashed out, being quiet and shy and a beauty to the public. He has you pinned under his thumb at all times out of Wyrm’s Rock.
𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕
NSFW below
What he lacks in length, he makes up in girth. Slightly curved, throbbing red thick dick.
He gives me the energy that he would have an erectile dysfunction. Deeply unhappy with himself about it. He would hide it and plan your intimate time accordingly. You wouldn’t always be looking when he would take pill-form herbs for his problem.
Eventually, after awhile of being together, he’d confess. Maybe you’d caught him a few times taking pills but you’d only ask if he was feeling well or needed to stop for the night. You didn’t think beyond a simple tummy ache he might have, as he was prone to those.
It happened because you had told him something very embarrassing about yourself and he had prodded it out of you, you had a few tears to shed about it. He confessed to make it equal, an embarrassing story for an embarrassing condition. He wanted to stop your sniffles he had unapologetically caused.
After he told you, you tried to tell him it wasn’t embarrassing and that you appreciated the honesty in that moment. It wasn’t his fault, yadda yadda, you still think he fucks like a god. But performance was everything to Enver. He still had his self-doubts.
He gives vibes like come warm my cock while I read over these letters and respond to them. Come suck me under the table in my leather apron after I tweak this invention. Let me push you against the wall of this hallway when no one’s around and kiss you deeply.
He’s a tease. More passing and lingering kisses than usual. A little more tongue, and a little deeper for just short kisses and pecks. Sometimes there were more surprise kisses, where your teeth would clack together, and you’d smile into it. Those kisses were his favorite.
It’s a love that has passed its honeymoon phase quickly, and you coordinate accordingly with him. You don’t have to tip toe around him, you respect his schedule and his frantic mannerisms. And after a long busy week, he’s just happy to go home to someone and lay his stress to rest. With fucking, or cuddling skin to skin. A simple service like cutting up fruit for him, laying out his pajamas, or helping him bathe and shave before bed, because he doesn’t do it in the morning. He will be awake and ready to work at the ass crack of dawn with his insomnia.
His breath always kinda has that smell, like he hadn’t eaten. Or he’s only had coffee that day. His clothes are always clean, his cologne is always sweet like rosewood. His skin is rough and dry, covered in a coat of dark hair. You could coerce him into letting you massage him (put some fucking lotion onto his lizard skin) and wash his face. You’d ask for a stack of blini/crepes with jam and butter, and share a plate with him. These were the small forms of intimacy that softened his looks and let his smile reach his eyes.
He definitely loves to admire, top, bottom, in between. His favorite is to press your body down into the silky sheets and have your legs on his shoulders. It felt a bit awkward to you but he loved feeling your skin sweat this way.
Enver doesn’t pound into you, he takes his time. He watches your face very very closely as he tests the water on your body every single time. Eventually he picks up the pace, comfortably. He wants to climax with you, he can acknowledge it's better than ravaging you for himself.
Sex with him is almost the same every time. If he’s stressed, it’s slower and softer, you’re able to take the lead for him. If you had fought before, he takes the lead- aggressively. He’s very sweet after, physically love-bombing your body after he unabashedly bites and bleeds it.
His lips are as plush as they look. You love kissing him every so lightly and ever so softly to capture how they feel. Unaware, he goes in deeper and you pull away. Trying to re-memorize that softness you’re after. He thinks you’re quite a tease this way.
He adored you, you’re his trophy. A gorgeous glimmering perfect trophy. Everything he needs, you’re quiet naturally and have no need to be trained down to a level he can control. You willingly bring yourself to be everything he wants. The partnership looks sicker in his head than yours.
𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕
Thank you for reading!! :) there's more to come, and I have some more on my masterlist!
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sabersandsnipers · 7 months
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Drabbles: Just One Bed
Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Lord Gortash
Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting
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Astarion
There’s only one pillow. So you and Astarion have to share. Neither of you want the annoyance of waking up with neck pain. And after arguing for a bit, you realize neither of you is winning.
Despite trying his best to keep distance between you, it’s incredibly difficult while trying to share a pillow. His body cradles yours. His lips nearly touch the back of your neck. For a while he manages to keep his hands to himself, but as his eyes grow heavy, his arm snakes its way around your waist.
Your body feels like its on fire despite his cold skin. You’re worried the rapid beat of your heart will keep him awake.
Somehow sleep eventually finds you. In the middle of the night, you roll over to find a more comfortable position. When you wake up, you find your face buried in Astarion’s chest.
He himself hasn’t slept since you rolled into him. He’s kept his arm slung over you, though, and has listened to your steady breathing all night.
When you attempt to move away from him, his grip around you automatically tightens. You freeze, waiting for him to realize you’re awake, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. Your body is warm and soft, and he never wants to leave this bed.
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Gale
The bed is roomy, which you’re grateful for. There should be plenty of space for you two. There’s no blanket though, so Gale roots through the closet for one.
Gale clears his throat, and you turn your attention to him holding up a rather small blanket. One that definitely would not cover the whole bed.
“You have it,” he hands it to you. “I’ll be fine.”
You hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Most definitely,” he replies, already making his way to the bed.
You climb in next to him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. It’s barely big enough to cover your own person. You look to Gale, who’s turned away from you. He looks so exposed, and frankly, uncomfortable.
“Gale?” you say.
“Hm?” he turns to look at you.
“Do you want to share?” you ask. You hold up the blanket so he can slide in.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He scooches over to you, and you let the blanket drop around you two. You let out a sigh of contentment as the warmth of Gale’s body presses against you. You usually run cold, so you’re grateful he accepted your offer.
He wraps his arms around you, because there’s no other way for you two to get comfortable. In the night, he even drapes a leg over you. You don’t mind, you even find yourself nuzzling into him, seeking every bit of warmth you can.
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Halsin
A rainstorm tears your tent in the night. The cold splatter of rain on your face wakes you. Your bedroll is soaked, along with most of your belongings. You groan, getting out of bed so you can seek shelter with a companion. 
Out of all the tents before you, Halsin’s calls to you. You know it’ll be the warmest. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you make your way to his tent. 
You poke your head in. “Halsin?”
He wakes, an alarmed look on his face. “What is it?”
“My tent ripped. Can I stay with you?” A shiver slinks through your body. 
He nods. “Of course.”
He opens his bed roll a bit, and you see he’s naked. Your jaw drops. You hesitate, part of you feeling like you’re crossing a line. 
But then another shiver hits you, and you practically run into his arms. You sigh as you slide into the warmth of his bedroll. 
Halsin groans. “You’re freezing.” 
  “I know.” You don’t hesitate to press up against him, soaking in all his warmth. 
  “You’ll warm up soon,” he says, rubbing your back. Then his voice hits your ear. “You’d warm sooner if you removed your clothes as well.” 
Your stomach drops. You know if you do this, your companionship is going to get a bit complicated. But the thought of his hot skin against yours is too tempting.
He helps you out of your clothes, your heart fluttering the whole time. When you’re fully naked, he pulls you into his chest. Your heart pounds, but you relax against the heat of him. 
He fully cocoons you, wrapping a thick leg around you to pull you even closer. You feel your body start to warm, and the shivers start to cease. You try to ignore how perfectly lined up you are to him. You know sleep will be impossible like this, but it’s worth it to spend the night in his warm embrace.
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Gortash
You may have had one drink too many. The wine Enver provided for you was far too good to go to waste. And waste you did not.  The last thing you remember is the soft cushioning of a bed before darkness took you. 
The harsh morning light wakes you. The first sensation that hits you is that of a pounding headache. The next is that of a pair of strong arms encircling you. 
Confusion hits you. You don’t remember going to bed with anyone. You feel your underwear is on, so nothing happened with whoever is in the bed with you. 
You slowly turn your body to see who this mystery person is. You’re met with the strong face of Lord Gortash. Butterflies fill your belly. He simply invited you over for dinner, and here he is letting you sleep in his bed. 
He’s sound asleep, his soft breathing evidence of the relaxed state he’s in. He’s sleeping shirtless, and you tentatively place your palms against his strong chest. You feel the strong muscles rippling under his skin. 
He stirs slightly and you quickly hide your face against his chest. He shifts, his chest hairs tickling your skin. His powerful arms hold you so gently.
With your headache forgotten, and Enver’s body sending waves of warmth through you, sleep finds you again.
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bhaalsbabe · 6 months
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BG3 characters and their approach to eating you out on your period
MDNI, 18+ content below!
They would eat you out like you're their last meal, and the fact that you're bleeding makes them even crazier about it. They love the taste of your blood, and when it's mixed with the sweet juices of your excitement, they go absolutely feral. They will bite your surrounding areas too - you're not going to be bleeding only from your cunt, but your thighs and belly too. Every time they break your skin with their teeth, they suck at the wound, drawing more blood and making their mark on you more visible. And then they go back to devouring your pussy, playing with your clit to make you release more of that delicious nectar. They could go down at you all night... And once they're done, with your blood and cum smeared all over their chin, they'll smirk, and, while making eye contact with you, they'll clean the mess you've made on their face with their hands that they'll lick clean.
Astarion, Lae'zel, Durge, Orin, Halsin, Nere
They're hesitant at first, not finding it disgusting per say, just unsure if they'll find it as enjoyable as you. Still, after the first few tentative licks, they start to relax. They do not thrive on the coppery taste of blood but rather on your reactions to their tongue and sucking - all the noises and involuntary movements you make. They eat you out diligently, making sure you're fully satisfied. Their hands keep exploring your body too, they want you to feel loved. By the time they're done, which depends on how much you're enjoying yourself, they're a panting mess too, ready to do more with you, if you're willing.
Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Zevlor, Isobel, Dammon
They'll gladly do it, just because they enjoy having control over you and when they eat you out, bleeding or not, that's exactly what they're getting. They don't mind sipping your blood, they'll even tease you about the taste, offering you a kiss so you can try it yourself. They'll make you feel embarrassed for how big of a mess you'll turn into, and they'll make you beg for all of your orgasms. They'll show you no mercy and if you weren't so far gone, you'd notice they're really enjoying themselves too. They wouldn't mind turning this into a monthly thing.
Shadowheart, Gortash, Raphael, Volo, Haarlep, Aylin, Minthara
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finn-writes-stuff · 6 months
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Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Gortash with touch starved gn s/o?
A Soft Touch
Adventuring to save the world leaves little time for comfort. Yet they provide it anyway.
Gale, Halsin, Wyll & Gortash x Reader
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Format: Headcanons
Gender Neutral Reader
Masterlist
My first bg3 work! Apologies if I don't have their characterization just right yet. - Finn
Gale
You're both so incredibly touch-starved. He has only had the company of his cat ever since he locked himself up in his tower.
He's terribly gentle when he does touch you. As if he expects you to disappear if he grabs you too tight. As if one of you might just shatter.
It's easier for him to touch you through magic. Encounters in the weave, mage hand, anything of the like. It allows him to touch you without feeling so overwhelmed with it.
But once he truly starts touching you regularly, he can't get enough. He'll have you in his arms while he reads, or he'll lay on your lap and speak of magical innovations.
He drinks you in like the magic he needs to live. Knowing that his touch is providing some benefit for you makes him content and satisfied. Gale lives to make you happy and see you smile.
Halsin
Gods, this man gives the most incredible hugs. The only one who compares is Karlach. He's warm and soft and strong and he holds you as though he would never let anything hurt you.
He's quite a tactile person in general. His hand is regularly on your shoulder when he points something out or asks your opinions. If you're comfortable with it, his hand will rest on the small of your back when he walks with you. He likes keeping the point of combat.
Fall asleep in his arms, on his chest. You will never sleep better than this. It will ruin you for any bed ever.
He's quite careful about boundaries. If you are overwhelmed by him touching you so much, he will tone it down and keep it at your pace.
Alternatively, if it's not enough for you, he's always ready to offer a full body massage.
Wyll
Literal king of romance. He is determined to court you properly. His touch always feels like it has intention and awareness to it.
Loves to kiss your knuckles and make eye contact as he does. It feels ridiculously intimate for just a kiss on the hand.
Wyll traces the lines and curves of your face while you relax with him, admiring you and memorizing your features.
Having you close, whether in an embrace or a dance, settles him. He keeps you close as much as you allow it.
If you ask him to hold you, he will stop nearly whatever he is doing in order to do so. Lae'zel makes fun of him for pausing his sparring for it.
Gortash
Oh if he had it his way (And he rarely tolerates anything less), you would never leave his side. You being touch-starved just gives him all the more reason to keep you there.
Enver is possessive in the way he holds you. He will have a portrait commissioned of the two of you with his gauntleted hand settled firmly on your hip.
He's inevitably touch-starved himself, but he's unlikely to admit this. Just allow him to hold you when you fall asleep or he'll be frustrated with everyone in the morning.
Gortash has the ability to pamper you and he takes advantage of it. He'd have you bathe with him in a bath full of expensive soaps and he'll wash your hair. He will also be ridiculously smug for as long as you smell like him afterwards.
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vibingandsimping · 8 months
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Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.
Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!
Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.
Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash
Astarion,
If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.
He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.
He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.
As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.
He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.
A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.
Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)
A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.
We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.
As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.
He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.
He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.
Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)
Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.
He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.
Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”
When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.
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divine-hugs · 6 months
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"I want a baby" with BG3 Men
Astarion
(Y/n): Hey, Astarion, I'd like to have a baby.
Astarion: Well, Darling, I could always pick a stray off the street. I'll have one for you by this evening.
(Y/n): That's not funny, I'm serious.
Astarion: So am I.
Gale
(Y/n): Gale, my love~
Gale: Hmm... what do you want now?
(Y/n): Nothing serious, just a baby.
Gale: Nothi— NOTHING SERIOUS? By marlin's beard, you and I both know we aren't ready for that, especially you. As I recall you almost walked of a cliff just the other day, how would either of us manage—
Gale: You're not listing to me, are you?
Gortash
(Y/n): So I was thinking, maybe we should have a baby.
Gortash: Why on earth would you do that? Thinking, I mean, you're one for making terrible decisions amd I'm one of them.
(Y/n): Fair point.
Halsin
(Y/n): Can I ask you somthing?
Halsin: for you my heart, anything.
(Y/n): I think we should have a baby.
Halsin: *Proceeds to pick you up and hoist you over his shoulder.*
Halsin: Let's not waste any time.
Wyll
(Y/n): Hey, I'd really like to have a baby.
Wyll: My dear, once we remove these tadpoles, I'd love nothing more than to marry you and have as many children as you want. You are the woman of my dreams, and I can't see myself having a family with anyone but you.
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orinfucker · 7 months
Text
cravings
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summary: your desperation to learn about your past has led you to the door of the one and only enver gortash, and he is more then happy to refresh your memory.
warnings: fem!reader, durge!reader, blood, slight manipulation (gortash), suggestive, making out, finger sucking, pet names, dom!gortash
note: small drabble of durge x gortash because i am sooo normal about them! might write a part two to this but i’m not sure yet.
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you knew this was wrong; sneaking out of camp in the midst of the night to meet with a man you had no knowledge of. but, who could blame you? everything he said about your urges wasn’t wrong, only someone who experienced them first hand would have the information he possessed.
so here you are, blindly trudging your aching legs up the staircase towards enver gortash’s office. you had your doubts about the man obviously, the way karlach had described him made your blood boil with anger; how dare he hurt one of your companions so badly. you knew this was a carelessly bad decision, but you needed to know more about this ‘past life’ of yours, and gortash seemed to have answers you craved.
“second door on the right.” you whispered aloud, reminding yourself of the steel watcher’s directions to the lord’s office. once you reached the polished door of his quarters, your body froze for just a second. was this really your only option? could you live knowing nothing of who you truly were? with a shaky breath, you curled your hand into a fist and knocked onto the wood of the door.
“ah, come in please.” a heavy voice spoke, the sounds of paper rustling echoing filling your senses. you fiddled with handle before finally opening the entrance to reveal the man you’d sought out: lord enver gortash. his presence was overwhelming to say the least, he held himself with such confidence it made the depths of your body ache. “i’m shocked to see you here, my dear. have you had a change of heart since the last we spoke?” you swallowed nervously, trying to search for the words to say, but nothing came up.
“perhaps we should make ourselves comfortable, to speak plainly with one another, yes?” gortash spoke, his eyes seeming to pierce right into your mind. a simple nod was your response before descending into his office, taking a seat at one of the chairs placed in front of his desk. “i, well, wanted to speak with you about my past.” gortash glanced towards you, and then a smirk plastered itself onto his face. “of course dear, ask me anything you would like.” the sultry tone of his voice sent a jolt of arousal through your body, one that felt oddly familiar to you.
“you’ve told me of my urges, something that is deeply personal to me,” you took a breath before continuing, “but i want, no, i need to know more about us.” gortash’s face twisted into a more sinister one before an amused laugh exited his throat. “you’ve been thinking about me then, is that it?” he began, leaning back into his chair as his eyes bore into your own. you shifted in your seat before shyly nodding in response. “when i heard your voice, it held such a familiarity, yet i have no clue who you are.”
gortash stood in his chair, circling around towards you own before kneeling to match your height. “that’s because we were something much more than business partners, my dear.” your face flushed over with red, immediately understanding the intent behind his words. “that.. can’t be right. i would never sleep with the likes of you.” you spat out in denial, refusing to believe you’d stoop to that level. “yet here you are, sitting in my office, begging to know about us. it seems to me that you want to indulge in our old ways.”
one of gortash’s hands began to trail over your knee, slowly edging up towards the clothed flesh of your thigh. you peered down at him for a moment, a feeling of lust clouding over your mind as the ministrations of his hand continued. “your body craves my touch, it aches to be used by me again.” you so badly wanted to refuse him, to feel repulsed at the feeling of his touch upon you, but every part of yourself cried out towards him.
gortash observed the way your face contorted from one of disgust, to one of desire. you felt an insatiable hunger rise within you, and without thought you leaned down to capture his lips in a messy kiss. the man below you groaned at the feeling, his teeth brushing against the flesh of your mouth before biting into your bottom lip, letting pecks of blood slip through them. you felt his tongue lick away the metallic substance before finally pushing away, heavy sighs leaving the both of you.
“my love, how i’ve missed you.” gortash breathed out as he stood from his knees, letting one of his hands come down to caress the side of your cheek. his thumb brushed against the fat of your bottom lip, wiping away the blood that was left from your raunchy kiss. “open.” your body could no longer resist; it obeyed every word, every breath that left gortash’s mouth. the flesh of your lips parted as his calloused thumb entered the cavern of your mouth, pressing down on the slimy organ inside before reaching for the back of your throat.
“you always were a nasty little thing.” his words sent chills throughout your body, a gag leaving your throat as his finger sunk deeper into you. “good girl.” gortash slowly removed his finger from you, wiping the spit and saliva away on the sides of your face. you looked up at him with doe eyes, practically begging the man to do anything he wanted to you. gortash took your hand between his own, helping you raise to your feet before guiding your body to lean against the edge of his desk.
“now, we have lots of catching up to do, don’t we pet?”
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sserpente · 28 days
Text
The Weight of a Promise
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“I want her.” Your heart sank when Gortash pointed at you with his chin. He leaned back, a waitress hurrying toward his table to clear the dirty plates because you were frozen in place, paralysed as if bitten by a Spectator. Hot needles pierced your stomach.
“M-me? But I’m not…I’m not a…”
“Then you shall have her. I’ll have her sent up to you shortly, Lord Gortash. Make yourself comfortable.”
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A/N: Just hear me out, okay!
Words: 3721 Warnings: smut, dub-con, prostitute!Reader
Additional NSFW Warnings: CMNF, loss of virginity
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“I want her.” Your heart sank when Gortash pointed at you with his chin. He leaned back, a waitress hurrying toward his table to clear the dirty plates because you were frozen in place, paralysed as if bitten by a Spectator. Hot needles pierced your stomach.
“M-me? But I’m not…I’m not a…”
“Then you shall have her. I’ll have her sent up to you shortly, Lord Gortash. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Excuse me?” Your voice was shrill, panicked. You turned to face Mamzell Amira glaring at you. It was a warning look, one she was daring you to defy.
“No!”
Gortash raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing on his handsome features. It resulted in Mamzell Amira huffing an awkward laugh, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the kitchen. The chef protested but she paid him no mind.
“Do not embarrass me in front of the Archduke! Have you got any idea how important it is for us to have his support for our establishment?”
“I am not a prostitute. When you hired me, I insisted it would be to serve food and drinks only, not to spread my legs for your customers. My contract doesn’t say—”
You admired the courage and the sensuality of your colleagues around here. Their life sounded like a never-ending adventure but it was one you were less eager to become a part of. Mamzell Amira was the only one who’d given you a chance. In exchange for your work, you were allowed to take shelter in one of the smaller rooms upstairs and receive three meals a day. You’d signed a contract for it, even.
Waitress, it had said. Not waitress and sex worker.
“I know what your contract says, girl. But this is Lord Enver Gortash out there.”
“Just tell him to pick someone else! You won’t make him pay anyway!”
“He doesn’t want someone else. He wants you.”
“Then tell him I’m not available!” You clenched your fists, anger and panic boiling up inside you.
“I will do no such thing! You either go up there now and make the archduke happy or I’ll kick you out and you’re back out on the streets before you can say ‘sex’!”
“You bitch.”
“Call me what you will. But I will not have you jeopardise my relationship with the very ruler of Baldur’s Gate.”
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When he first entered the establishment with a Fist and a Steel Watcher in tow, the whole room went silent. Excitement rippled through your colleagues like electricity, you could tell. They went rigid, giddy, wide smiles spreading on their lips.
Others merely widened their eyes. Lord Enver Gortash at Sharess’ Caress? Unlikely. Outrageous! But then again even archdukes needed some release and fun every now and then, no? Well, you didn’t buy it, scoffing as you collected some empty glasses to bring to the kitchen.
Something was off with this man. His Steel Watch came out of nowhere and the way he made himself out to be the saviour of Baldur’s Gate…it didn’t sit right with you. This man was no selfless hero, one look into his eyes was enough to determine that. Funnily enough, however, no one else seemed to notice. Or perhaps they didn’t want to notice so as long as he protected them from this Absolute cult threatening the city. Either way, it was ridiculous. There were rumours spread by sceptics, even. Dark rumours that he worshipped Bane, the god of tyranny.
So here you were now, in a pickle. Sleep with the man who painted himself as a saint without payment or lose the roof over your head and starve out in the streets. You cursed, storming past Mamzell Amira and fighting the gag forcing its way up your throat when you realised what you were about to do.
“First room to the right. Do not disappoint him!”
It was a fucking walk of shame, it felt like every single person you walked past knew exactly what you were about to do. Some probably envied you. Others must have been relieved they were not in your situation.
Gortash had already made himself comfortable on the large king-size bed when you slipped into the room and locked the door behind you.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he announced.
“Sorry, my lord. There were some…discrepancies.”
He chuckled. “Do you often contradict your employers? I would have expected more eagerness from a pretty thing like you.”
You gnashed your teeth, swallowing down the snarky remark dancing on your tongue. He waited. And waited. And waited.
“I’m not really, um…sure what to do.” Blood bit at your cheeks, embarrassment creeping up your spine. Gods, this was so absurd. Was it really worth it?
Gortash tilted his head. “You have done this before, have you not? Don’t lie to me,” he added.
You sighed. Well, fuck you, Amira.
“No. I haven’t. I’m not a prostitute. Mamzell Amira sold me to you despite her promise I’d only be working here as a waitress.”
“I see.”
Your eyes darted up, seeking compassion in his dark eyes. Perhaps he’d understand, perhaps he’d pick someone else after all and chide the brothel owner for breaching the contract she’d made you sign…but there was none. Only hunger.
“Come here.”
“Did you…did you not hear me?”
“I did. My ears work very well, dear.”
So he didn’t care. And if you refused him now…you could imagine more comfortable things than facing the wrath of a man who built an army of automatons seemingly overnight.
“Take off your dress. Let me see you.”
You obeyed—you didn’t have much choice, after all. It could have been worse, no? Gortash was handsome at least. Duke Ravenguard, as self-righteous as he was, would have been a less appealing option with how old he was compared to Gortash.
You weren’t exactly graceful when you stepped out of your dress, undergarments following quickly. Gortash made no move to undress himself in the meantime, instead watched every single one of your movements like a hawk, amused and greedy, even more so when you pushed yourself to climb on the bed.
Come to think of it…there was not a single man who had ever seen you naked, except for your father maybe when you were still an infant and needed a nappy change. This was new. Different, terrifying considering the circumstances and…exciting?
Fuck, you shouldn’t find this exciting! You didn’t want to do this, you only meant to survive, to…
You couldn’t finish the thought. Gortash leaned forward, pulling you against him. The cool metal of the demonic faces on his armour against your palm was only a small comfort as he rolled you both over and then towered above you with a smirk.
And against all reason, when he leaned down to kiss your lips, your eyes fell shut. Fuck, no!
“You can’t…” You didn’t know much about prostitution but if there was one thing you did know, it was that kissing was usually off-limits.
“Of course I can.” Gortash grabbed your chin, deepening the kiss. It felt…good. Intimate. Almost like he meant it. His tongue slipped into your mouth, battling yours for dominance you gave up far too quickly for your own liking.
You shivered when he pressed himself even closer to you, forcing your legs apart. The metal and the leather dug into your bare skin, your hands wandering, exploring his chest in a frenzy. Your body was…reacting to him in the most delicious ways.
You realised the very moment he freed his hardening length from his leather trousers that you were getting wet. The heat between your legs had you breathing heavily, even more so when you laid eyes on his arousal. Soft black hair framed the base of his erection, his tip red and eager and leaking precum. You were worried for a moment how it would fit with how inexperienced you were. If you tensed up out of nervousness…surely it would hurt.
Gortash released your lips with a deep breath, adjusting himself between your legs. With one hand, he guided himself to your weeping entrance, with the other he stroked your cheek before focusing on your left breast, his thumb teasing your nipple.
“Relax, dear. This is supposed to be pleasurable for us both.” Was it? You very much doubted the archduke cared if you…well, finished. Yet, with how breath-taking being with him felt in this very moment, perhaps he truly did mean his words.
Inch by antagonising inch, he spread you wide open, pushing inside. He went slow, savouring every last moment. His expression was calm, blissful, almost…beautiful.
He stretched you further and further, a light burn spreading between your legs and then…it was over, leaving nothing but pleasure behind. Gortash filled you to the brim, bathing in the sensation and perhaps, letting you get used to his size before he started moving. He withdrew slowly, propped himself up on one elbow and kept kneading your breasts with his free hand, before he plunged himself back in, fucking you in a slow and steady rhythm that had your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Gortash took his sweet time, savouring every single second. Grinding against you, he buried himself inside you as deep as he could, pounding you into the mattress. He was eager for his release, yet when he reached down to where your bodies met to find your clit with an easiness that made you flinch, you couldn’t help but allow a moan to escape your lips.
He chuckled in response, his thrusts getting harder, more uncontrolled. Fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. It felt good. He felt good. His thumb was massaging that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs even better than when you did it, hidden under your blanket at night. And whenever you did it, there was no one watching your every reaction like you were the most desirable woman in Faerûn.
There was amusement too though. It was clear by now he wanted you to come. Not for your sake—but for his. Whether it was to satisfy his ego, to confirm he knew what he was doing in bed or simply because you could only imagine how pleasurable it must have felt for him for your cunt to clench around him, to milk him for all he was worth.
Gortash left you no choice. You climbed higher and higher, unable to escape the bliss he bestowed upon you even if you wanted to. Part of you longed to deny him your pleasure, to not let him win this wicked game of his. But it was no use.
You were coming before a curse could leave your lips. You fell apart beneath him, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning bolt. Your toes curled, your muscles tensed, endorphins clouded your senses. Your moans made him smirk, your contracting pussy made him groan.
He seemed to grow even harder then, his sinful grunts the sexiest sound you had ever heard. He moved slightly, digging his fingers deep into your flesh as he grabbed your hips, surely leaving angry marks that would remind you of this encounter for days to come.
For a moment, he was no longer the fearsome archduke or the self-proclaimed hero of Baldur’s Gate. He was a man enslaved to lust and carnal desire—just as you were a woman of the same affliction. You moaned as he pumped his seed into you, his hard cock twitching and jerking against your walls until eventually…he collapsed on top of you with a satisfied sigh, leaving you both to process the aftermath in silence.
You swallowed as soon as the last waves of pleasure had ebbed away, realisation of what you had just done hitting you square in the face like a painful blow. You rose, shifting forward quickly in an attempt to climb out of bed and retrieve your clothes—to forget this ever happened before it could plant its roots into your mind even though part of you longed to do this again. Not with just anyone—with him.
Gortash chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, preventing you from leaving. “Are you in a hurry?”
“N-no.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind staying for a while longer.” His fingertips ghosted over your shoulder blade, leaving goose bumps behind in the process.
You should have resisted. Should have wailed, screamed, lashed out. You didn’t. Instead, you let your body relax and…enjoy the intimacy between you.
“Are the rumours true?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“Are what rumours true?”
“Are you…a Bane worshipper?”
Silence. Long enough for you to regret your question.
“Bane is a god like any other, dear. And he can lead you to great power. He knows that power demands sacrifice—sacrifices not everyone is willing to make.”
It wasn’t an answer and yet it was. You refrained from another comment. After all, you intended to keep your head after losing your virginity.
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He made you talk about yourself after this. Tell him your name, where you were from, where your family was. Light small talk you would have brushed off as mere politeness if it wasn’t Lord Enver Gortash you were conversing with.
You remained careful not to reveal too much about yourself. Trust came a long way and just because he had fucked you into the next year and proved that he was surprisingly good in bed that did not mean you would throw all caution out of the window.
After you’d gotten dressed again, you accompanied him downstairs where he was met by a smiling Mamzell Amira behind the counter by the entrance.
“I hope you had a good time, Lord Gortash?”
“A very good time indeed. Now…how much do I owe you for the time of this lovely flower of yours?”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes even though part of you rejoiced. It was ridiculous just how much you enjoyed his attention and affection despite your suspicion and your fucked-up situation. Besides, his wordplay regarding your virginity did not go amiss. Mamzell Amira perchance hadn’t even been aware of your inexperience.
“Lord Gortash, please…you owe nothing at all. We are glad that you enjoyed your time here—and I hope we will see you again very soon.”
Your face fell. You had expected something like this. It hurt nonetheless. You had given your virginity to this man…and it wasn’t even worth a single gold piece.
Gortash smirked. “We shall see. I am a busy man.”
“Oh, busy men especially should take a rest every now and then. Enjoy your evening, Lord Gortash.”
The archduke nodded, shooting a final glance in your direction before he strutted off like he owned the place. Mamzell Amira’s eyes found yours.
“Thank you,” she said.
You walked away from her without a response.
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Dunk the plate, wash it, dry it, stack it. Everything went back to normal in the following weeks. Except it didn’t. Nothing was back to normal. You’d lost your trust in Mamzell Amira, in your colleagues…and you’d lost what you’d been meaning to keep for someone special.
Gortash was special, there was no denying that. But the love of your life? Hardly. Amira didn’t mention again what you had done for her but she also didn’t ask you to do it again with another customer. After a few days, it almost felt like it never happened. Like it was all a dream. A nightmare—or a very twisted and yet exciting sex dream. Perhaps until today.
“Mamzell Amira wishes to speak to you.” It was one of the drow who stuck their head through the gap in the door with a sweet smile. You sighed, dried your hands quickly and abandoned the dirty plates in the sink.
The shit-eating grin on her face when you approached the counter was unsettling, to say the least.
“You will not believe the news I have.”
Your heart sank. Was Gortash coming back? Did he want…you…again?
“I’m shivering with anticipation,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice like venom.
“Watch your tongue, girl. Now. Lord Gortash has requested you to join him in Wyrm’s Rock. I can hardly blame him. The man is busy—that way, it won’t be necessary for him to make the journey.”
“What in the hells is that supposed to mean?”
Mamzell Amira rolled her eyes. “It means you are to pack your things. You will be staying with the archduke from today on.”
“You…you have no right to do that. I am not your slave. I am a contracted waitress!”
“I may not. But Lord Gortash certainly does. Now pack your things. There is a Steel Watcher outside waiting to escort you.”
You clenched your fists. “And if I refuse?”
Mamzell Amira narrowed her eyes. “Refuse and I will not take you back. I can only imagine the consequences you will face if you tell Lord Gortash you are not interested in his generous offer.”
“Generous?” You shrieked.
“Lord Gortash is requesting your presence at Wyrm’s Rock.” The Steel Watcher spoke your name, repeating the order over and over again. It didn’t quite fit through the door but its robotic voice could be heard a little too well regardless.
Fuck. Mamzell Amira had a point, of course. You would lose regardless of what option you chose. And if Lord Gortash truly did worship Bane as you suspected…you bit your lower lip. Starvation, hypothermia or death by the archduke, one that would never see the light of day…none of these options sounded very appealing to you.
And against all reason…you had enjoyed his company. His touch, his lips, his skilled fingers…his cock…
“Fine. I’ll go get my things.”
Mamzell Amira nodded.
“Lord Gortash is requesting your presence at Wyrm’s Rock” was the last thing you heard as you made your way upstairs and grabbed the other dress you owned, along with a small leather bag containing three gold pieces.
There were no goodbyes, no hugs, no “take care and good luck”. Most of the sex workers were busy with customers and Mamzell Amira, quite apparently, couldn’t give less of a fuck whether she’d just condemned you to the hells.
You followed the Steel Watcher feeling like you were being escorted to your execution, across the massive bridge, past stone walls, curious Fists and citizens and eventually, up a narrow set of stairs leading to Gortash’s office and private chambers.
The Steel Watcher closed the door behind you—heavy wooden doors you knew without trying you’d be unable to open all by yourself.
There he was, smirking at you from his luscious armchair. Your name rolled off his tongue almost pleasantly as he greeted you. You were supposed to bow so you knew, yet your limbs and spine refused to move even an inch. You clutched your bag tighter.
“Was I being unclear? I asked you to take all of your belongings with you. I have no intention of sending you back anytime soon.”
“That’s, um…” You cleared your throat, cursing your embarrassment. “…that’s all I own. My lord.”
“That? Is all you own?” He eyed the bundled-up garments in your hand. Surely you looked as pathetic as you felt.
“Are you telling me you own only two dresses?”
It was a hand-me-down from one of the prostitutes who no longer fit in it. Hence, it was a lot more revealing than you would have liked. The one you wore was plain, the fabric stained and worn-out toward the bottom.
“Yes.”
“Hmm…we shall rectify that. I’ll have someone sent to Figaro to retrieve some. As my concubine, you should look the part.”
You blinked. “What did you say?”
Gortash’s eyes met yours, amusement glistening in his.
“C-Concubine?”
“Why else did you think I’d send for you? To discuss political matters?” He chuckled. You weren’t quite sure why but it had you seethe.
“Mamzell Amira made quite a generous offer,” he explained.
“Which is?”
“You. In exchange for a lowered tax rate for the brothel.”
“T-that’s it? She…she didn’t even ask for payment for me?”
Gortash tilted his head and chuckled yet again. “Did you think you’d fetch a hefty sum? She did tell me she picked you up from the streets. Clearly, she must have thought your loss wouldn’t affect her business much.”
He might as well have reached for a dagger and plunged it deep into your heart. Tears pricked at your eyes, worsening your sight. You blinked them away frantically, unwilling to show weakness in front of him.
“Now, now…surely Mamzell Amira had only your best interests in mind when she sold you off. After all, I live a very wealthy life here in Wyrm’s Rock. First, we can get you some nice jewellery to wear.”
“I don’t care about jewellery.”
“Then what do you care about?”
“Bodily autonomy,” you murmured.
“What was that?” When you didn’t repeat yourself, he continued. “You are free to go if that is what you’re implying. But I think we both know what your alternative is.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s not? A shame.” Only he did not sound regretful at all.
“You expect me to let you fuck me whenever you please but you won’t pay me because I was a gift from the brothel! Are you even listening to yourself?”
“You are getting paid. You’ll have a bed, warm meals, clean garments…and my protection on top of that.”
“So I am nothing more than a slave in a golden cage.”
“If that is what you would like to call it, then by all means. I have business to tend to now. When I return, I expect you to have bathed. And—do throw away those hideous dresses.”
He moved toward the door but before he left, he turned around again.
“I will treat you well, dear. I can promise you that.”
“How much weight does a promise hold these days? The previous one got me into this situation in the first place.”
“I am a man of my word. I have no reason to lie to you. All I ask in return is that you behave. You can do that, hmm?”
He smirked, his expression playful. He left before you could utter another word.
Fine. You’d play his game. And may the gods help you, you will win.
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darkenedurge · 7 months
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Edit / Update : Part 2 is now posted here.
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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐲.
“ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐲, 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐘𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 – 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡. ”
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CONTENT : P in V Sex | Implied Age Difference (Enver refers to Durge as “little one”) | Sloppy Make-Outs, Mark Making, all that good stuff | Referenced Switch! Durge | Dom! Enver Gortash | “Forgive me Father for I have sinned” (that’s.. basically the whole fic/plot) | Rough Sex | Spit as lube, fun !!
` Inspired by this post.
And also, this song;
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˚ ✧.
“But, ma’am, you could have anyone you wanted–”
Your dagger was swiftly swung, landing just a mere fraction before it met the skin of the poor, fragile, meek, little butler. His eyes flit, from each corner of the room, to the door – as it remained open, only by a crack. If he ran, he surely couldn’t make it, and even if he did – that would certainly be the end for him. This was heresy, both you and he knew that equally. Yet, another shared knowledge, was that you would never free your favourite toy. You were bounded in his chains, just as much as he in yours – Enver Gortash.
It wasn’t a faux claim, to say that you could have anyone. Followers, worshippers, dedicants of Bhaal, were far too quick, eager to throw themselves at your feet – be bent at your will, trampled beneath your pretty foot. These were all trivial matters, and ones that you rarely indulged in for such reasons. Perhaps on occasion, for a quick fuck. Though, you were almost always unsatisfied – insatiable.
Always would you delve impatient, frustrated fingers into your begging cunt, bringing yourself to the edge with a flutter of your eyelashes. Pleasure, but not in its truth. No, that’s where Enver came in.
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You weren’t sure how it had even occurred. He and you, had always had a lingering eye for once another – stealing glances and sparing the flick of your tongue across your lip, wetting the plush skin, as you allowed yourself only a second longer to indulge in his stature. Small, fleeting moments of tension had somehow, pinned you beneath him – his teeth assaulting your collarbones, marks of possession and brutality staining your skin. Even the simple, slight swirl of his tongue as his mouth enveloped your nipple, had you gasping – hand flying to his hair, fingers curling and taking a fistful of his shaggy, inky locks. His knee parts your legs, and you rut needily against him. To which, he chuckles – scoffs, and tuts, “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? Someone hasn’t been taking care of my favourite assassin in my absence.. I should’ve claimed you sooner.” Sweet, citrusy words. Words of praise that, pathetically, could’ve made you come right there and then.
“M’sorry..” You murmur, breath audibly hitching as Enver pinched a nipple between his teeth, “You just feel so good.”
He hums, and the sound reverberates through your chest – forcing a shiver to course throughout your body, riding up your spine. “We’ve barely started, little one,” His eyes greet yours, head raised as he speaks, “It’s not good quite yet.”
That’s when your lips connect, for the first time, and the entirety of your stomach coils into tight, pleading knots. Enver grunts, the noise muffled by your intertwined passion – drool seeping from the side of your mouth, sloppy, wet dances shared between your tongues.
You don’t see Enver naked, then. You wouldn’t for a while. For now, and hereafter, he’d simply shrug himself free of the confines that his clothes so needlessly, annoyingly provided. As lazily as he’d enabled himself, Enver only provided the same impatience for you – ushering your panties aside, in favour of wasting precious seconds tugging them down to rest at your ankles. In a strange acknowledgment of admiration, you favoured his methods. His comprehensive need to feel you swallow his cock, take him the way the Gods had so sinfully intended.
Enver wets his fingers, tongue resting upon his lower lip as he swiped the tips until they were adequately coated – lathering your entrance in his saliva, earning a subtle flinch on your behalf. No warning is offered, he pushes into you with force, heavenly in the way that it hurts – in the way he stretches you, as he bottoms out with a wavering groan.
Your walls flutter around him, your hands finding their place upon his shoulders as he begins to piston his hips at a relentless, pace – you squeak, squeal, your nails press into the supple flesh beneath them. Enver is not shy to make noise, in return, his mouth no prison to the grunts, groans and moans that follow – in tandem with his thrusts. Over and over, you feel him assault a spot you hadn’t even known existed – deep, deep inside of you, making you quiver and tighten rhythmically.
“Say my name, little one,” Enver pants out in demand, fucking you evermore, “Say my name.”
You could hardly deny the request of a man who was literally, fucking you senseless. Making your head spin, your cheeks flush and stomach churn. “Enver..” You whine, like a mewling kitten. No, not good enough.
Again, “Enver.” It’s louder this time, and your nails drag down his upper back.
“Enver!” Oh Gods, are you going to cum?
As your heart pounds mercilessly in your ears, you can distantly hear Enver release a small, huff of a laugh. You voice is almost hoarse, as a cry strangles from your throat, “Enver! Enver, I’m-!”
You came. It’s akin to that of a crashing wave, and a roaring fire, in beautiful unison. There’s a hot, swarming pool that follows – Enver, no doubt, laying his claim; cumming almost simultaneously, filling you to the brim. You’re trembling as he holds you, pulls you flush against his chest and peppers kisses to the nape of your neck.
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He wouldn’t be staying long. Slinking off back, toward his duties without so much as a whisper. Still, such ignorance didn’t pain you. You knew he’d be back, this was the very birth of a whirlwind. One that was destructive, perhaps. But, destruction is your birthright. Your solemn purpose.
You sit, thighs sticky and skin glazed in sweat. “Father,” Your hand is clutched to your exposed chest, resting over the thrum of your heart, “Forgive me..please.”
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hijackalx · 4 months
Note
I need a breeding fic with Gortash. like him putting you in a mating press and just saying nasty shit like "give me a baby boy" or "your ganna have so many of my fucking babies" holy shit I'm ganna faint he's so mmfg
I WANTED TO WRITE THIS FOR U BUT IT TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY 😭😭💗 also i hope u like spit cuz i saw the opportunity and took it SORRYYYY 😹😹
WORD COUNT: 1.6K
UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, breeding kink, spit, mating press position, some degradation and praise, dom!gortash, you’re basically his baby-making machine, he refers to reader as ‘woman’ and ‘girl’
Gortash doesn't do anything without planning first. He's always a step ahead; he knows what the future holds because he decides it.
And sometimes you wonder where you belong in his grand scheme. What does he have in store for you? All of his meddling behind the scenes— he’s a puppet master, playing your unsuspecting figure by the strings of his jeweled fingers.
It would be sensible to ask, but like a true visionary, he isn’t keen on being questioned. He'll blow you off as sweetly as he can, cradling your face and assuring you that you needn’t worry about such things. Despite his facade, you can tell it bothers him; you can see the irritation behind his gaze.
You'll admit, it can be a little intimidating being with someone like him, simply because you never know just how much of your relationship he's manipulated and plotted into fruition. You're stumbling around in the dark, clinging to his wrist for stability while forgetting that he blindfolded you in the first place.
When the next stepping stone of his intricate plan is revealed, you feel it's all too obvious. You realize the crucial part you play, and how integral it was that he didn't scare you off. No doubt you were plucked from a plethora of suitors, carefully considered for your purpose. You think you should feel flattered.
You lay on the silk sheets of his bed, spread open and waiting. Your bare skin is soft and scented, a flame spreading over the surface as you watch him approach. He crawls over top of you, the mattress giving with each movement. You swallow at his looming presence, how he locks you between his strong arms.
Thumb coming up to tease your bottom lip, he leaves a lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth.
"I'm going to make you the most valuable woman in Faerûn." He smiles before rocking back on his knees. Another kiss is left on your ankle as he props your legs against his broad shoulders. "Isn't that right?"
His features are gentle but his eyes are dark— intense. You can tell this is something he's been waiting for, something he's been heavily anticipating. You wonder how you were never able to pick up on his faltering restraint before; he looks like he's wound as tightly as he can be.
His tip plays at your entrance, smearing precum against your heat. You throb, aching for him, but you can tell by his smirk and the slight tilt to his head that he's waiting for a response.
You nod readily. With that, he angles and inserts himself into you. Gasping, your fingers bunch up the fabric beneath you as he stretches you out inch by inch. "Gods..." you mutter at the feeling of his cock slipping past your walls.
You stare at his face while he watches how your pussy strains around him, admiring how his thick, black hair hangs from his forehead, how the corners of his sloped nose crinkle slightly; the concentrated furrow to his brow, and the small parting to his lips. You did get lucky, didn't you?
Out of all the men who'd want you to carry their child, you were picked by him; a powerful man, body and mind, who is certain to pass on his traits through you.
You struggle to take him in further, the width near his base stretching your opening uncomfortably. Without hesitation, he cups his hands under your knees and pushes them to your chest, resting his weight onto you. He manipulates your figure on instinct— as if it's his, as if he owns you.
Your body is forcibly spread deeper, allowing him to sink into you the rest of the way. The new position almost takes the breath out of you, eliciting a surprised whimper from your lips.
He sighs contently as he fills you fully, the warmth of your needy pussy engulfing his cock. He finally starts to move his hips, rocking you on the mattress as your wet cunt squelches around him.
You gaze up at him through your knees, watching his lip curl at how tightly you grip him. "Fuck," he hisses. "You're perfect. Fucking perfect," he almost seems to be muttering to himself, his eyes unable to break away from where you two meet between your thighs.
He picks up the pace, his heavy balls hitting you with every thrust. You leave behind bits of your essence in his hair, the slick coating his ebony strands.
His hand releases one of your legs to snatch you by your jaw. The aggression catches you off guard, and for a moment you wonder if you've upset him. Under lowered brows, he grins.
"You're going to be my personal little broodmare," he laughs breathily before interrupting himself with a grunt. "And you'll give me as many baby boys as I want— won't you, sweet girl?"
His fingertips leave indents in your skin, and he appears too distracted by pleasure to know how rough he's being. Still, you don't mind— men with gentle hands don't sit on thrones. "M-mhm," you do your best to respond under his hold.
He slips his thumb between your lips, pressing down on your tongue. He coerces your mouth open until it's fully extended, staring down at you.
"Yeah? You like the way that sounds?"
His nail digs deeper into your tongue with every second you take to answer, his expression bordering on wicked. Unable to speak, you nod vigorously.
The corner of his mouth pulls upward, his brows lifting briefly. "I thought you might," he says before leaning over you, encasing your body in his shadow. Without warning, a quick wad of spit comes flying out onto your tongue. "Whore."
The warm substance lands and spreads over your tastebuds. Only after he admires how it looks in your mouth does he release you. He stares down at you expectantly, so you hold his gaze and swallow.
As he watches your throat bob, you feel his cock twitch inside you, a low groan vibrating in his chest.
Your body writhes with want beneath him, with need. You feel the way your cunt repeatedly tightens around him, trying to draw out his orgasm.
He can feel it too, and you know he won't last much longer. Soon he'll be filling you full of his cum— again, and again, and again— ensuring that, without a doubt, you'll be pregnant. You'll carry his heirs, securing his rulership with his bloodline.
You never saw yourself as mere breeding stock before. And you most certainly never saw yourself enjoying the thought of it. It sends a surge of heat through your body, a tremble through your limbs. You yearn to be of use to him— to his success.
"P-please," you stutter, gripping his bicep tightly. "Come inside of me. I need you to come, please—" Your words come out quickly and almost incoherent, stumbling over your own burning desire. You need to feel his thick, white seed lacing your walls.
He almost coos at how ready you are for him. "Fuck, I love hearing you talk like that."
His hand slips down the back of your thigh so that his thumb can toy with your clit. His touch isn't the softest, and it makes your sensitive body jolt with every rub. Still, the timing of it has you questioning if he's rewarding you for your begging. You wouldn't put it past him to condition you that way, so that your cunt's always desperate to be filled.
He places his hands on either side of your head, hooking your legs over his elbows. His face is now inches from yours, and you can see the lustful haze over his stare. It's dark, almost wolfish, but it only excites you.
You're so ready for him to finish, just so he can do this all over again.
You wrap your arms over his muscular shoulders, holding onto him while he fucks you. Your body is at his mercy in your vulnerable position, completely pliant to his every whim. You almost shiver at the thought— not from unease, but arousal. Your eyes flutter shut.
The bed creaks with his tempo, mirroring the needy movement of his hips. His breathing is uneven and wavering by your ear, accompanied by the occasional grunt or moan. The sounds of his pleasure send a wave of excitement through you, and you can tell by the rapid snaps of his pelvis that he's close.
Your voice evolves into whimpers as you feel his orgasm approaching, anticipating being filled with a steady stream of cum. With a hiss through gritted teeth, he slams into you hard, pumping white ropes into your cunt. You rhythmically tighten around him, milking him for every last drop.
The feeling of him filling you up makes your limbs buzz with exhilaration, and the knot in your core finally snaps. You tear and claw at his back while he ungracefully rides out his own orgasm, pushing his seed into you further and further.
After his final sloppy thrusts, his body stills. He rests above you, the arms supporting him tense and slightly weary. His breaths fan your cheek, warm and ragged, indicative of his high. You would almost think he was spent, if it weren’t for the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out of you.
You focus on the way his cum settles inside you, threatening to leak. It’s so much— you find it hard to imagine fitting more. Still, he smiles down at you with an endearing obstinance that says he’ll find a way.
You realize you’re in for a long night.
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bearhugsandshrugs · 5 months
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Can I ask for headcanons for Raphael and Gortash? How would they show their love for their partner in subtle ways?
I feel like both their 1st instinct after they fall in love is shower their partner with grand gestures and the small stuff might only come a little later, when they are more comfortable.
this is so cuuuuuute thank you here have cute raph and gorty
Raphael
I'd think Raphael would seek you out even more often than he already does. Standing around, waiting for you, practicing more lines, with more care, throwing in more and more teases and flirts until you can't listen to a whole sentence coming out of his mouth without blushing.
He'd court you with extravagant pleasantries: Your favorite boutique, open exclusively for you. Your favorite meal, suddenly appearing on the menue of the tavern you're staying at. Your favorite book getting a sequel out of the blue.
Raphael would never acknowledge that he organized that, however. He'd wave you off, smiling quietly, and you see the knowing tease in his eyes but he'd be damned before he'd ever admit it.
Then, one day, you visit him and he's painting, hurrying over to you so you don't see. Later, once he's freshening up, you sneak away to take a peek at what he's been working on. Which posture he's painting himself in, which setting, which scene, but your breath catches in your throat when you see your own face on the canvas–
Gortash
The first thing you notice is that he makes time. For someone as busy as him, that's quite a lot – he moves his meeting back so he can lay in bed with you a little while longer, or sit with you at breakfast. He cancels a meeting so he can take you out to dine. What would be the bare minimum for almost everyone else is quite the effort for our Gorty, usually so laser-focused on his work.
The next thing you find is that he seemingly remembers every detail of anything you tell him. He asks about your friends, your acquaintances, about the shopkeeper that you shared a laugh with the other day. He wants to know everything, and somehow, he remembers everything, even months later.
The biggest most subtle change that happens however are his quarters. While he always prided himself in having you at his side, he was very hesitant at changing anything about his room. Then, one day, you spot that half of the wardrobe is emptied out. For you. There are more pillows on the bed so you can sink into your own.
He doesn't announce it, doesn't even ask you to move in, he just decides, and knowing him you know how difficult this was for him. You belong – with him.
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sabersandsnipers · 7 months
Text
Drabbles: Caregiving
Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Gortash
Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting
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Astarion
To put it lightly, Astarion is a mess after killing Cazador. And who can blame him? After returning to camp, he simply sits and dissociates. His hands tremble. The only solace he finds is when you’re near. 
Still covered in blood, you ask his permission to clean him up. He simply nods, his eyes staring at nothing. You grab a damp cloth and begin gently wiping away the dried blood. He leans towards you, hoping your presence itself can protect him from the trauma that keeps surfacing in his mind. 
You notice his pants are still stained with blood as well. You gently cradle his face to get his attention. 
“Do you need help changing?” 
He doesn’t say anything but the look in his eyes is enough to assure he needs help. You lay him down and help him out of his soiled clothes. You quickly grab his night clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and helping him into new bottoms. 
After he’s settled, you turn to leave, but his hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
“Please stay.” His voice is strained. A deep ache blooms in you. 
You sit next to him on his bedroll, cradling him against your chest and whispering soothing thoughts to him for the rest of the night. 
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Gale
As skilled a wizard as Gale is, he can’t always prevent himself from getting sick. Confined to his tent, you took it upon yourself to care for him. 
As you brew some tea for him, he stretches out on his bedroll and watches you work. His heart warms at your worry for him. He really doesn’t deserve the care you’re giving him. He’s sure you have more important things to do. 
You pour the tea for him, crouching next to the bedroll. With barely enough energy to move, you have to help him lift his head to take a sip. You gently cradle the back of his head, bringing the warm liquid to his lips. 
He takes a small sip before laying his head down again. 
He licks the remaining liquid off his lips. “It’s good,” he says. The taste of it sends a comforting warmth through him, mildly numbing the ache settling in his bones. 
“I put a little something extra in there for you,” you tell him, winking. 
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”
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Halsin
Halsin is always the one who wants to care for you. You’ve insisted time and time again to let you pamper him sometime. He works so hard for you, protecting you and making sure you never go to sleep hungry or cold. 
After scrounging enough gold to get a room at a nearby inn, you finally force his hand. He’s bathing in the wash room, and you sneak in while he’s scrubbing at his skin. 
He looks at you, a smile coming to his face. “Did you want to join me?”
You shake your head. “I was hoping I could wash your hair,” you tell him. 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“Please?” you insist. “You must be tired.” 
His shoulders slouch and he ceases his scrubbing. “Get over here,” he grumbles.
You rush over to sit behind the tub, leaping at the chance to help Halsin relax. You make quick work of wetting his hair, pouring a cleansing mix onto his scalp. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, massaging slowly.
“Hmmm, that feels good,” he says, voice low.
You smile, watching as the tenseness leaves his body. “Good. You deserve it.”
He leans his head back, making it easier for you to work your fingers through his long hair. 
You can’t help yourself. You lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He turns to  you, a warm smile on his lips. 
Your heart melts just like the first time you saw it.
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Gortash
You straddle Lord Enver Gortash, his bare back laid before you. Your fingers dig into his tense muscles, earning moans from deep within him. He dearly needed a massage after an especially tiring day of ruling over Baldur’s Gate. The power of having him writhe beneath you is intoxicating. 
You lean down and start to press kisses to his lower back, slowly trailing upwards. He growls your name. A warning. You know if you continue to tease him he’s going to flip you onto your back. The thought thrills you. 
But you want to work out those big knots in his back first. He deserves to be taken care of before he takes care of you. You continue your work, rocking back and forth on your heels to gain momentum as you dig deep into his flesh. 
His moans rumble through your hands. You grin to yourself, looking forward to the moment where he gives you the pleasure you want in return. 
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bhaalsbabe · 6 months
Text
This bed has seen everything
Pairing: afab!Durge Reader x Enver Gortash
Label: nsfw
Word count: ~2k
Summary/warnings: MDNI, afab!durge, durge is a magic user, unprotected sex, piv, creampie, some biting on both sides (and both sides like it), choking (receiving), the glove stays on, Gortash is a simp for durge but what's new, Gorty is more dominant here
Author's note: long expected part two of This desk has seen everything. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3
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You need to focus or you'll get yourself killed. The Emperor's stern voice rumbled inside your head, the force of his mind pushing your urge back, enough for you to see clearer again. You were standing next to an open manhole. Looking around to figure out where you were, you noticed an undead beggar you ran into after entering the Lower City a day before. You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way back to the room you had acquired in Elfsong Tavern. As soon as you entered the main square, however, you were stopped by one of the steel watchers.
"Citizen, lord Gortash is looking for you. Please return to Wyrm's Rock Fortress immediately," its robotic voice said.
"And what if I don't return?" You asked, not in the mood to deal with both Gortash and this annoying piece of metal.
"Then you'll be escorted there against your will."
You frowned, thinking about your options quickly. You hated having to follow anyone's orders. At the same time, you weren't in a position where you could take out the entire city's guards, and while you could turn invisible to slip out of this steel watcher's grasp, you would have to show yourself eventually and be captured then.
"Fine, I'm going there right now. Happy?" Your voice was dripping with malice that totally went over the steel watcher's head. It continued standing there menacingly, watching you as you made your way out of the city again. You walked as slow as possible, wondering what awaited you.
Gortash wanted you. That much was evident. The surprising part was that you wanted him too. This man, who was ready to doom so many people for his god and hunger for power, who hurt Karlach so much and sold her to Zariel... You should hate him and be planning his assassination, putting a stop to all of this. Yet instead, you were thinking of how familiar his touch felt on your body, how it made your heart sing in a similar way as killing did. Even without the memories that would explain the reasons for it, you craved him, his brilliant mind and his reverent touch.
As you entered the fortress, you were greeted by the mechanical voice of the steel watcher, telling you that "lord Gortash is awaiting you in his chambers". Two guards, these made of actual flesh, then lead you to what you assumed were the doors to his chambers. You waited until they left before entering, your heart speeding up in anticipation.
The room was big and expensive looking. It screamed 'important person resides here'. Currently dimly lit through various hanging lanterns, you could still make out the prevalent colours, red and black, with occasional sprinkle of green. All the way back was a king sized bed with canopy, with its owner sitting on its edge.
"You gave me quite a scare back there. I thought you'd start a bloody rampage in the open." He chuckled but you noticed he sounded almost relieved as his eyes set on you. You felt a pull towards him, your feet leading you to the bed on their own.
"I warned you I'm not as in-control as you might think." You replied, stopping in front of him. The dark lighting of the room made him look more imposing and you had to admit, it suited him. Black was his colour. His smile widened as he caught you staring at him.
"Can't help yourself? I don't blame you~" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead choosing to ask the question that's been burning in you.
"What exactly were we?" You winced at how unsure and vulnerable you sounded. Gone was your usual confidence. When it came to your past, you were lost and helpless and it scared you. Part of you berated yourself for showing a weakness to an enemy of such status as Gortash.
But he didn't take advantage of it. His eyes softened and his flirtatious smile changed into a melancholic one. You had a strong feeling not many people had seen this particular expression on him. He stood up, taking both of your hands into his while gazing into your eyes.
"Allies," one of his hands left yours to wrap around your waist and pull you against his lean body. You let him do it, intuitively putting your free hand around him too.
"Friends," he leaned close to you, his next word whispered to your ear as if it were the most precious secret.
"Lovers." You heard him take a deep breath, almost like he was taking in your scent, his hold on you tightening for a brief second before he pulled away, reluctantly letting you go and stepping back.
Hearing him actually say it made a bit of your doubt and guilt go away. Of course your body recognised your lover, even if your mind struggled. You weren't betraying your friends by wanting to be close to Gortash. How could they possibly blame you for wanting someone you used to love?... You could easily do more mental gymnastics to defend your following actions if necessary.
Your breathing quickened as you pushed him back, making him fall into the bed, before climbing over him. "Good. Now I don't feel so bad for wanting to fuck you."
His eyes widened as he took you in, looking up at you as if you were a god, a self-satisfied smile stretching over his face.
"Old habits die hard~" He said before using his strength to flip you over. "You should know your place, however," his voice was deeper, his clawed hand wrapping around your neck, making it harder to breathe. You glared at him in defiance, displeased that he'd dare to do this.
"Oh, are you imagining slicing me open now? Frying me with you spells?" His eyes and voice were laced with amusement. He put more pressure on your neck, the sharp claws digging into the soft skin of your neck. He leaned close to your face. "Good."
The moment your lips connected, he released his hold on your neck enough for you to be able to breathe better again. His other hand made it's way under your shirt, mapping your body to his memory again. He sighed contentedly, almost getting lost in the simple kiss-
And then you bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood and to make him recoil in shock. He pulled away, touching his bleeding lip gingerly before looking back at you. His eyes seemed to get impossibly dark as he watched you lick your lips, stained by his blood. His pants got more tight as you gave him a mad grin, one that used to be on your face so often before your disappearance.
"I didn't think you still had it in you," he chuckled, looking way too happy for someone who could've lost his lip.
"You seem to be enjoying the pain. Aren't you supposed to be a tyrannical sadist?" You teased him, dropping your gaze at his quite visible bulge before looking back at him.
"Oh I can be, trust me, dear. You're just too special." He got near your face again, scanning over your features with his eyes. You could see the imperfections on his skin in return - the soft wrinkles around his eyes, the laugh lines, the scar on his chin - and as you shared this moment, you truly felt special.
You started kissing each other once again, more passionately and ferociously, both of you needing to feel, touch, taste each other. Gortash pressed his clothed erection against your core and you moaned into the kiss, your legs wrapping around his body to pull him closer, to stimulate the spot that was crying for attention. All of a sudden, none of you had the power to continue your playful banter. You needed him, and he needed you.
He started undressing you, his nimble fingers making quick work of your clothes and he didn't even have to stop kissing you for a moment. His hands kept exploring your body, squeezing in all the right places. He knew your body well.
His mouth left yours to kiss your jawline and continue lower, to your neck, your clavicle, and even lower, to give some welcome attention to your nipple. As he sucked on that piece of flesh, one of his hands started its journey over your inner thigh all the way to your cunt. He only dragged his finger through your folds, spreading your slick, and your hips buckled.
"Fuck... Enver, just fuck me already," you panted, your chest heaving heavily, your nails digging into his shoulders. He left your nipple with a 'pop', his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you before him, all desperate and needy, although he wasn't doing much better and you uttering his name didn't help.
"As you wish, my dear," he mumbled, removing his pants and underwear hastily. He didn't bother with prepping you, knowing you enjoyed the sting of his cock splitting you open and so he inserted his dick in you in one fell swoop. You tensed up, unused to this kind of pain, trying to hold back any sounds of discomfort. Gortash noticed it, kissing you softly on the lips, before whispering into your ear:
"You're doing great, my love, just relax." His fingers started playing with your clit, mixing the pain with pleasure and soon you were urging him to move again. He didn't need to be told twice, his hips pistoning into yours immediately after getting your permission.
He was thick, making the muscles in your vagina strain as they tried to accommodate his girth. It helped that you were embarrassingly wet, the squelch audible every time his dick moved in and out of you. Gortash buried his head in your neck, letting out whimpers that made you feel less humiliated about the noises you made.
"Ah, I've missed this. I've missed you. Thought I'd never see you again..." he mumbled into your neck, his breath hot against it. He cradled you close, as if you could slip between his fingers at any moment, his hips picking up speed. He wanted to enjoy this more, he truly did, but he was desperate to state his claim on you again, make you his once more. He made sure to rub circles into your clit in an effort to bring you to climax along with him. You were so responsive to his touch, like the first time you gave yourself to him, and he wanted to make sure you'll come back for more.
His clawed hand that held you close kept leaving bleeding scratches behind that you didn't mind at all, not when everything in this moment made you feel so alive. You thought killing felt great but this was actually better than that. He then bit your neck, groaning at the same time, his hips stilling, and you felt a warm sensation in you as he filled you with cum. With the continuous stimulation in and around your cunt, along with the small bits of pain he brought you, you followed him over the edge soon after, a silent prayer of his name on your lips.
You were both breathing heavily, still wrapped in each other as you tried to recover a bit of lucidity. Gortash finally pulled out, making his sperm spill out of you onto the expensive bedsheets but he couldn't care less. He laid next to you, pulling you against his chest, and he kissed your head sweetly. It felt unreal, that a supposed tyrant like him had the capacity to be so gentle, to an enemy no less, and yet here you were.
Well, let's just say you're heavily considering your alliance now.
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namjoon-koya · 4 months
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A/N: sorry I’ve been inactive on here:/ anyways I just wanted to write this out because I’m supirsed our companions don’t react to this (I wish they did) anyways please enjoy!
Spoilers from act 2 and 3
♡ shadowheart, Astarion, Gale, Gortash ♡
Warning: angst, mentions of torture, a little bit of 18+ on Gortash part.
Companions+ Gortash react to Dark urge reader getting experimented on by Kressa Bonedaughter
[ Shadowheart ]
Shadowheart could see you tense up when Kressa got excited to see you, you’ve told about your amnesia. You didn’t remember anything at all, hells you didn’t even know if you lived a baldur’s gate you told her once as you two spent the night together.
“We had such a close bond, I opened you up endlessly with my scalpels, and get lost in your insides. It has never been same with another… all the other victims who come over here just meekly obey. You thrashed, you fought, you were indomitable.”
Once shadowheart heard those words leave her mouth she wanted to attack her then and there, what in the hells happened to before the nautiloid?
“As special as you are you shouldn’t be swanning around here, acting as if free will is yours again. We’re going to kill you sweet one, but I promise I will stay with you afterwards. Lashers bring this one back to my table! And prepare my knifes for a night long of experiments.”
Shadowheart glares at her before quickly withdrawing her weapon, she wasn’t going to let them touch you not after everything you’ve done for her and the bond you two shared.
[Astarion]
He looked at Kressa confused as he watched her eyes light up once she saw you, it was almost the way Araj stared at him when you guys arrived at moonrise towers. It made him feel sick he wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off of her face.
“We had such a close bond, I opened you up endlessly with my scalpels, and got lost in your insides. It has never been same with another… all the other victims who come over here just meekly obey. You thrashed, you fought, you were indomitable.” She said in admiration, hearing those words leave her filthy mouth only fueled the burning hatred Astarion had for her even more. He knows you don’t remember anything confided in him with it, but he still can’t bear the fact you went through this.
“As special as you are you shouldn’t be swanning around here, acting as if free will is yours again. We’re going to kill you sweet one, but I promise I will stay with you afterwards. Lashers bring this one back to my table! And prepare my knifes for a night long of experiments.”
Astarion would skin them all alive before he allowed you to go through that torture again, he wouldn’t allow it no matter what.
[Gale]
He was shocked, utterly just shocked. He knew you told him that you’ve had amnesia, but the fact that this women was putting you through torture and experimenting on like a someone would dissecting a frog. He was always the one in the group telling everyone to think before they attacked an enemy, but this time he didn’t even want to think about not attacking Kressa.
“We had such a close bond, I opened you up endlessly with my scalpels, and got lost in your insides. It has never been same with another… all the other victims who come over here just meekly obey. You thrashed, you fought, you were indomitable.”
You could see Gale get tense from her words, you used the tadpole to tell him that it was okay that you don’t remember anything of the pain, but that didn’t matter to him.
“As special as you are you shouldn’t be swanning around here, acting as if free will is yours again. We’re going to kill you sweet one, but I promise I will stay with you afterwards. Lashers bring this one back to my table! And prepare my knifes for a night long of experiments.”
Gale didn’t even hesitate to use a fireball spell on them, even the rest of the party was shocked how quick he acted. “I’m not allowing anyone who participated in torturing you near you.”
[Gortash]
Gortash held you in his arms and watched as your chest slowly rises up and down, he still couldn’t believe you were back in his arms. When Orin told him about you forgetting your memories he hoped it wasn’t true, but the moment you arrived at his coronation he could see that you didn’t recognize him. Even when he called you his favorite assassin you looked at him confused, his eyes wander down to your stomach noticing the lighter patches.
Kressa Bonedaughter was her name, you told him everything that happened at moonrise. The fight with Ketheric and the mindflayer colony, you told him about the strange women confessing what she did to you while you were there.
She experimented on you, like if you were some animal and she would enjoy every moment of it. You told him that you and your companions took care of her, but Gortash couldn’t help but still feel angry. He felt angry at Orin for letting her jealousy of you being Bhaal’s favorite get the better of herself, for putting you down there and letting them cut you open.
His fingers gently brushed against the patches, he made sure to kiss every single one he saw when you decided to visit him in his chambers. He wouldn’t allow this to happen again, he won’t let Orin take you away from him this time.
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Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy
A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 
🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇
TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content
(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)
Astarion: 
He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 
Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.
Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 
Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 
Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 
Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 
Gale: 
Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.
Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 
Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 
The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 
Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.
Wyll: 
Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 
Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 
Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.
Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 
Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 
Halsin: 
Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 
Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 
Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 
Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 
Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.
Minsc: 
He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 
Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 
He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 
He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 
He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 
Gortash:
Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 
He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 
He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 
Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 
He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 
Raphael: 
Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 
He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?
Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 
Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.
He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 
The Emperor: 
It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 
Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 
Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 
Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 
If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 
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