Haunted (AO3 fanfic, rated Explicit)
While questing with you (Tav) and the others to find a solution to the tadpoles, Astarion fights the dreaded concept of developing *feelings* for someone. All while that someone pushes to show him he's not the slave he once was. A shield of sarcasm and well-crafted seduction clashes with stubbornness and determination, and something's gotta give. But will it come at a price?
I'm late to talking about this on here (just posted chapter 10 on AO3, but I'll link chapter 1 here), but I hope you enjoy! Definitely NSFW/18+, currently have a posting schedule of a new chapter every second Saturday.
Haunted - Chapter 1 - IntoTheGallifray - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]
Tags include: Smut and lots of it, angry sex, rough sex, angst, blood drinking, vampire bites during smut, Dom/sub (Dom Astarion), public/semi-public smut, consensual throat fucking, canon-typical Astarion violence, action/adventure, kind of a slow romance burn, exploration of dark canon issues, BG3 spoilers, who needs sleep I'd just dream of Astarion anyways
This story starts during the first sex scene with Astarion in the woods, all because of the look in his eyes when he says, "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"
Excerpt from chapter 1 (NSFW/18+):
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You feel your pulse quicken as he grinds against the needy juncture of your thighs, and a low moan escapes your lips.
It seems to spur him on and he does it again, as though chasing after more of those sounds. You reach between your bodies and stroke him through his pants, thoroughly enjoying the grunt of satisfaction it draws from him. He lets you get as far as tugging the garment down and releasing his cock from its confines. Before you can properly grip him, his thigh presses up against you so he can free one of his hands to grab your wrist.
He clicks his tongue as though scolding you and murmurs, "This isn't about me, darling." Your wrist is released, but before you can make another go at grasping him, his hand delves beneath your lounge pants. You gasp, your body twitching when his fingers drag over your clit. "Oh my," his tone is deliberately teasing as he slides his digits a little further down, "You sweet, wet little thing, you're positively drenched. I think I'll have to do something about that."
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