Making an Impact | 18+ MDNI
Shadowheart/m!Tav/Astarion CW: Impact play, undernegotiated kink
They had cornered him.
Tav, still throbbing from Abdirak's display of faith, was backed into a wall with two pairs of hungry eyes -- one crimson, one emerald -- pinning him in place. A wave of embarrassment overcame him.
They had seen him writhing, crying, begging for mercy only hours before and responded with praise. Shadowheart had asked whether Astarion had any thoughts about his display; Astarion responded that he had his hopes. Both of their faces twisted in a sick display of approval.
His cheeks flushed. "And --" he gulped. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Oh, don't be so bashful," chided Astarion with a smirk that had Tav feeling absolutely bashful in the moment, "I saw how you screamed for that cleric. You can drop your pretenses now."
In the moment, Tav had been riding the adrenaline high of infiltrating a goblin camp and encountering a master-torturer who demanded his supplication. Now, his senses returned to him, he could feel his guts turn with fear.
Fear? Or excitement? Shadowheart didn't give him time to decide. "Don't mind him; I knew you'd be shy." The Sharran closed in, her fingers tracing along the lines where fresh scars littered Tav's back. "But pain is a gift, remember. It keeps us sharp. Alive."
Agony.
His jaw clenched shut. In an instant she had whipped him around. Claws ripped down his back like knives, threatening to tear the shirt standing between him and his tormentor. Tav ground his face into the stone wall.
He didn't realize the moan in the air was his own until Astarion's dark chuckle followed.
"Come now, Shadowheart. You'll spoil the fun before it starts." A blessedly cool hand rested over the small of his back. "What do you say, Tav? Have you had your fill of pain for the evening, or are you greedy for more?"
"More." Gods, he wasn't even remotely himself. His body cried out for them to rip off his clothes and flay him, to take his pain and drink it in until they were sated to the last drop.
His eyes were closed, so the purr in his ear came as a surprise: "Oh, I was hoping to hear you say that."
"Come," said the other, her timbre as sweet as steel. Shadowheart nudged him back just enough to slide between him and the wall. He settled his face into the blessed soft of her neck.
Tav was dimly aware of his trousers being pulled down his legs, followed by his small clothes. The cool night air nipped at his exposed skin, and --
Ice. The first strike sent shock through his body like frigid lightening. Something wide and hard had hit him. Something created to draw out pain without damaging the meat underneath -- not that his body could register that nothing lasting was harming him.
His teeth grit together. "Very good." Tav felt the vibration in Shadowheart's chest more than he heard the words. Anticipation gnawed at his brain as he awaited Astarion's next strike.
He didn't have to wait long. An obscene smack rang through the night air, followed by the telltale sting of the impact. His head swam, his blood rushed to the afflicted area all too quickly. The next hit was one his body was keenly aware of.
On they tormented him, working his ass and thighs raw until a lovely throbbing began making itself known between his legs.
"He's excited; look at him." Her voice contained no mockery. Only satisfaction.
Astarion was, on the other hand, breathless for the exertion of the torture. "Hold him out of the way. I won't have my fun ended early."
Tav had hardly registered his own arousal hanging heavy from his pelvis until a hand snaked between his legs to cup his balls.
Her gorgeous hand protecting him, holding him --
"Good boy, shhh..." She squeezed. That was all it took. Tav's toes curled as he peaked, spend spitting against the stone floor. He would cry out had his vocal chords any substance left to them. Instead, ranger pressed his face into Shadowheart's shoulder to ride out his orgasm in silent bliss.
Another hand as sickly sweet as the one cradling his sex coaxes his own off her hip and down, down into her trousers into the slickness within. Tav gets lost in the sensation of her cunt on his fingertips. He rubs, massages at her lips when something hard presses in behind him.
Astarion's ice-cold voice sounded out in the darkness. "You won't believe me, but I do hope this doesn't hurt as much as I think it will. Your shouts of pain were ecstasy; I can't wait to hear what your cries sound like for pleasure."
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Shadowheart, unblinking, staring at Tav across the campfire because everyone knows they snuck off with Astarion after the tiefling party last night: does fucking a vampire count as necrophilia?
Everyone: *freezes*
Gale: *drops his big spoon into the breakfast pot, spattering some on Lae’zel*
Wyll: *startled coughing fit*
Halsin: *genuinely considering the question*
Karlach: *whispering to Wyll* what is necrophilia? does that mean, like, a thing about necks, or what…?
Tav: I…I think I need to go lie down.
Astarion, returning from his morning hunt a few moments later, emerging from the woods and taking in the strained camp-mosphere: why is everyone being weird? who died?
Lae’zel, still angrily cleaning herself off: you
Gale: *drops his spoon again, seconds after successfully fishing it out the first time*
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