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MUCH OF EL’S LIFE had been spent on their knees. In prayer, most of the time—in some desperate effort to be heard, to be seen, to have someone see them from afar and say, with a smile, that they were good. They were, weren’t they? Oh-so pious, they did everything in service of Selûne. That was their whole life. That was the only thing that they’d ever been told to do, and they tried to do it well.
Tried. In the battle against Ketheric Thorm, which was perhaps the most dangerous foe they’d ever faced, they died—at the hand of the Apostle of Myrkul, no less—and left their allies to pick up the pieces. They proved themself to be a liability, a lackluster leader, useless. They caught their unfamiliar reflection in the water of the Chionthar, in the Lower City’s glass storefronts, and in the Elfsong’s silver mirrors. Their resurrection had not come until after the battle, after the others had carried their corpse on their backs all the way to camp and tossed the coin needed to revive them at Withers’ feet. Scars, wounds healed yet still so painfully present, lingered on their skin. On their face, too, across a freckled canvas that had once been soft, careful, naive. The dark, purple-black bags forming underneath their eyes reminded them, too, that they’d been brought back broken. Different. Worse.
So yes. Tried, in the past tense. El tried, and they failed, and the pit in their stomach had grown ever-deeper. They didn’t have to think of that pit, now, on their knees once more. They didn’t have to think of Selûne, of the Faerûn’s fate, of the Absolute and what—or who—pulled the strings behind it. They didn’t have to think, here on their knees, with their lover’s length in their hand, hardening under their touch. El didn’t want to, anyhow. There would come no good of their self-pity.
Shadowheart’s hips rocked forward oh-so slightly at the touch. Her slender fingers combed through their curls, now cropped short. Her fingernails were feather-light on their scalp, a gentle scrape. El wished she would just pull, but she moved with a sort of hesitance—fear, perhaps. Of hurting them. Of hurting herself.
“You’re sure that you want this?” She tilted her head to the side with her moss-green eyes lowered, half-lidded and surrounded by shadow. They still looked pretty like that, Shar be damned. El could look into them all night.
They leaned forward, pressing a soft, short kiss onto her shaft. “Are you?”
“Yes,” Shadowheart spoke, speaking a little faster than she had moments before. Her knot, sitting at the root of her shaft, swelled ever-so. Not completely, though—not yet.
“Then yes.”
El held her cock in their hand and gently pulled her foreskin back, fingers curled around her girth. They swirled their thumb over her tip and the small hole at the center of it. Her pink, exposed head already shined with pre-cum. Shadowheart had once teased them for their inexperience, hardly trying to hide her smirk while she watched the heat rise to their cheeks and words fail to escape their throat. El wondered if she’d still tease them, even now, even as she came undone from such a simple touch.
The Selûnite began to pump Shadowheart’s cock with their fist, falling into a steady rhythm. They spoke to her all the while, their silver-blue eyes peering up at her through white eyelashes. “I don’t want you to think about Shar. I don’t want to think about my death. I think the both of us could do with some—” They stilled, only for a moment. They peppered kisses down her shaft, though their lips lingered at her glans, tongue circling around her opening before hollowing their cheeks and sucking. The pleasure, the intensity of it all, was sudden enough for Shadowheart’s hips to stutter, pushing herself further into El’s mouth. They pulled back with an audible ‘pop!’, continuing. “—forgetting.”
“Are you—ah—sure, Els?” Shadowheart, despite El’s efforts to distraction her, couldn’t help but pout. She’d done a lot of forgetting over the course of her life, and she’d convinced herself that she wanted it. Cherished it, even. It did her no good in the long run.
“Please, love,” El’s hand slid down the soft skin of her outer thigh, still a little wet from their midnight swim. She had freckles there, but they were so faint that you couldn’t see them in the sun. El committed them to memory, just as they had for the rest of her body. They only wanted to think of her. “I don’t want to worry about those things, even if only for a little while. Humor me, won’t you?”
It wasn’t fair. Sitting on their knees, looking up at her all innocent-like, and begging? Shadowheart couldn’t find it in herself to say no. She believed that El knew that, too—even if their expression remained just as pitiful. She nodded nonetheless.
Once more, El took their lover into their mouth, only deeper this time. Tongue flat against the underside of her throbbing cock, they pulled their head back and forth, taking her in inch by inch until their nose was buried in the black, curly hair at her base. That, it seemed, hadn’t been affected by Selûne.
Shadowheart spat out a curse and took hold of the short hair on the back of El’s head, pulling it back until just her tip lingered on their lips—all before pulling them forward abruptly, leaving no time for them to react. She repeated this motion again, and again, and again, until spit dribbled down El’s chin and their eyes had grown misty with tears. They couldn’t help but gag as she took control, chasing her pleasure, using their mouth as a toy. El rolled their hips slightly, their hole clenching pitifully around nothing but air. They wondered, then: would she be just as rough when she had them on their back, their body at her disposal? Would she care to be soft, to be gentle towards her woefully inexperienced lover?
El hoped she wouldn’t. They didn’t want gentle. They didn’t want pity, or something slow, or something that gave them the space to think. El hadn’t ever laid with someone before, and they did not wish for their first time to be sullied by the memories they’d much sooner forget.
They brought a hand down between their thighs, into the weeping heat of their cunt. Slick, wet arousal covered their fingers, and even the faintest brush against their swollen bud sent an electric shock up their spine. They’d pleasured themself countless times in their tent with nothing but a smutty novel in one hand and the other buried in their smallclothes, but this? With Shadowheart so close, so thick and so hot and thrusting into their mouth without abandon? It all paled in comparison to this.
“You’re being so good for me, love—ahah, so good… your mouth’s so warm,” Shadowheart choked out, using her free hand to hold one of her heavy breasts. She pulled and pinched at her nipple, already hard and a blushing, rosy pink, with her forefinger and thumb. “You’re wonderful.”
El’s fingers circled their clit and a familiar pressure began to build in their belly—a flame, an ember that only burned hotter beneath the cleric’s praise. Their other hand weakly grasped at the wet skin of Shadowheart’s thigh, hardly able to slow her onslaught into their mouth. There was no room for them to speak, and as such, the only noises that spilled from their mouth were delightfully lewd, muffled moans.
They didn’t even need to be fucked. They wanted it, yes—more than anything, more than they wanted food and fresh water, more than they wanted air—but even more than that, they wanted to be of service. Someone good, someone sweet. Someone pliable. Shadowheart could come in their mouth and leave them untouched if she wished. El wouldn’t argue against it.
“Shit—!” She hissed, her hold on El’s hair growing tighter. She pulled their head back, and this time, completely off of her spit-soaked cock.
El could taste something salty on their lips, lingering on their tongue. In their cock-drunk stupor, they let out a whine and reached for her. Shadowheart held them back with a well-meaning hand on their forehead.
“Not yet, love,” The laugh that she let out was airy, euphoric. Joyful. To know that they had been the reason for it? El couldn’t get enough. They smiled pleasantly as she continued. “Any more of that and I would’ve finished.”
El whined once more. “I want you to, I wanna—” Their fingers hadn’t left their clit for even a moment, for it felt far too good to rub and rub and rub until their mind turned to mush. They let out an open-mouthed moan, angling their hips up. They didn’t miss the way their lover’s eyes, darkened with lust and half-lidded, traveled down their body, past their chest and their soft stomach to their desperate cunt. “—see it. See you.”
“How sweet,” Shadowheart knelt down to sit eye-to-eye with El. She leaned forward slightly, her face mere inches from El’s own. Her lips, soft and pink and oh-so perfect, practically begged to be kissed. El, however, held themself back. “Do you feel good, love?”
“Mhm,” They nodded, biting their bottom lip. They dipped two fingers into the warmth of their pussy, sliding in without protest. It wasn’t nearly enough.
“Don’t you want me to finish elsewhere?”
El felt their ears flutter.
“Mhm!”
Shadowheart giggled at that, their shameless display of lust. She had the Selûnite wrapped around her finger and she knew it. Hells, they’d even hump her leg like a dog if only she asked.
“Then lay on your back, love,” She said, giving their chest a gentle push. They obeyed, falling onto the blanket underneath them, stolen from the Elfsong—nobody would be missing it. The next couple of words out of her mouth came out nervous, unsure, as if she were dipping her toe into unknown waters. “… let mommy take care of you.”
El’s dark face flushed at the title. They hadn’t considered calling her mommy. It felt taboo, at first, and then wonderfully fitting. They smirked, leaning back onto their elbows and spreading their legs to give Shadowheart better access—and a better view, of course.
They didn’t say a word, but their eyes spoke all on their own. They spoke of their hunger.
Shadowheart crawled towards them carefully, almost annoyingly so. There was a predatory nature to her stare, akin to a wolf stalking her prey. What would El be, then? A rabbit? A lost sheep?
They wanted to feel her canines scrape the sides of their neck. They wanted her to break skin.
Shadowheart soon hovered over them, one hand resting against their stomach and moving further and further down, until her slender fingers combed through their thick, white pubic hair.
“How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”
El hadn’t expected that. “H-huh?”
“You have, haven’t you?” She asked, innocently. El nodded. “Then tell me. How many times?”
El sputtered, at first. Were they supposed to keep count? Would she tease them if they did? “… most nights, when the stress starts becoming too much,” They explained, their mind drifting somewhere… less pleasant. That wasn’t the point. Thinking wasn’t the point. “Can you touch me, mommy? I need it, I need it so so bad.”
Shadowheart clicked her tongue. “Ah-ah-ah, you didn’t ask me right. Try again,” Her hand just barely brushed past their swollen bud, but that faint touch was just enough for El’s hips to jerk forward, desperate for just a little more friction.
“Please just touch me! I need it, I need you, need to feel you—” They begged. Shadowheart hummed, content, and finally slid three thin fingers into their pussy. She circled their clit with her thumb, too, and smiled impishly at the sounds that escaped her indigo-skinned lover. She thrust into them with a steady rhythm.
She pulled her fingers from their drooling cunt, her eyes widening in awe when she saw the slick covering them. A thin trail of arousal connected their hole to her hand. “So wet for me. You really did need this, hm?” She purred, sliding in a fourth finger. El’s hole, ever-so greedy, accommodated to the stretch.
El nodded, grinding their hips in rhythm with her thrusts. “Mhm,” The flame in their belly had grown into a forest fire, all-consuming and reaching its peak. They didn’t have to say it for her to notice—they were so very close.
“I want you to come on my hand. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“Aah—” El mewled. They wanted to—gods, they wanted to. They wanted to be good and have Shadowheart look them in the eyes and say it, that they were good, that she loved them sososo much and—
“Go on,” Shadowheart had leaned forward and spoke softly against the shell of El’s ear. “Come for me—let mommy see you fall apart.”
With that, El couldn’t hold it in any longer and something within them snapped. Their walls fluttered around her fingers, coating them and the blanket below them in their spend. They let out a cry far louder than their past whines and whimpers, but it was nothing Shadowheart couldn’t muffle by pressing her mouth against theirs. El kissed her sloppily, desperately, like a man starved. With each wonderful spasm of their inner walls, Shadowheart’s hand grew even wetter. Once the initial shock of their orgasm washed over them, El pulled back from Shadowheart’s swollen lips with a pout.
“‘m sorry, so sorry, I made a mess—” They started, eyes focused on the dark, wet spot they’d left on the blanket. “It’s just something that happens when I come, I’m sorry, mommy, I’m—”
“Shhh,” Shadowheart hissed, bringing her cum-soaked hand up to her mouth. Starting from her wrist and ending at the tips of her fingers, she gave herself a long lick. She smiled at the taste. “It’s cute, really. Don’t say sorry, baby. Here, have a taste.”
She held her hand out to El expectantly. With no more than a moment’s hesitation, they lunged forward and caught two of her fingers in their mouth, suckling at them.
Shadowheart giggled, pushing her fingers in deeper. “Good, good. You take orders so well, you know. I think you ought to be rewarded.”
El’s ears—so expressive, she noticed—perked up at the suggestion, and their eyes widened ever-so. They continued to suck in lieu of speaking, teeth gently scraping at her skin.
“How about this. I’ll make you come again, but on my cock—and you’ll let me come inside you.”
El hummed, and the sensation resonated through her fingers, which they promptly pulled from their mouth. “Please! Oh please, mommy, I’ll let you come inside—” They babbled with a grin, holding her wrist. In an instant, that was all they wanted. For Shadowheart to fill them, completely. For her to claim them as her own. They didn’t need to be anything else.
“You wouldn’t dare waste a drop, would you?”
El shook their head and echoed her words back at her. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Shadowheart hummed, satisfied. “Good. Now…” She pushed El back once more, flat on their back. They laid there, pliant and leaking, with their hands resting on their chest and their hair a tousled mess. She’d already ruined them with her fingers alone—she couldn’t stop a smile from pulling at the corners of her mouth. She brought a hand to her neglected cock, stroking her shaft as her eyes drank in the details of El’s body. They’d gained some weight since the start of their adventure—both fat and muscle. Their arms had particularly grown more toned, while their stomach filled out a little and stayed soft. Freckles marked each and every inch of their skin, alongside a myriad of scars from their travels. To think that they trusted her with all of this? She was honored, truly.
She told hold at her root—just under her knot, slightly swollen but not yet at full sire—and hovered over El, using one arm to prop herself above them and the other to align herself with their sopping heat. El took the opportunity to wrap their arms around her neck, pulling in close and pressing their skin flush against hers. They left soft, open-mouthed kisses on the side of her throat.
The tip of Shadowheart’s cock prodded gently at El’s entrance, still sensitive from their orgasm. They let out a shuddering breath against her skin.
Shadowheart sighed into their curls. “Thank you, by the way.” She spoke with a quiet reverence, as one would a prayer.
“Hm? For what?”
“Letting me be your first.”
“I…” El’s mouth hung open in an attempt to find the right words. The decision came easy to them, after all. They hadn’t deliberated on it for long. “I love you, Shadowheart. I do.”
In response, the cleric eased her hips forward and sunk into El slowly. Their hole stretched around her nicely, without any of the pain or blood they’d once read about. There was only pleasure, warm and liquid and building in their belly once more—inch by inch, they let Shadowheart in. Once her hips laid flush against their thighs, she let out a shaky breath.
“I love you too, Els.” She spoke, smiling. Their entrance, slick and soft and oh-so warm, stretched around the bulb of her knot, not yet swollen. “Does it hurt? Can I move?”
El nodded, grinding their hips against hers as if they were trying to push her in even deeper. “Move, please,” Their voice, no louder than a whisper, was hot against her neck, and their words were followed by a kiss. Shadowheart needed no further instruction.
She fucked into them slowly, at first. Softly, as she listened for any sounds of discomfort or pain. When El’s shallow, high-pitched breaths were all she heard—alongside the perverse squelch their pussy would make each time they took her to the hilt—she moved faster. The angle of El’s hips allowed for her to hit a wonderful spot deep inside them, over and over and over again. Their knees trembled around her thighs, out of El’s control. Pleasure shot up their spine with each snap of their lover’s hips, and still they weren’t satisfied. They wanted more, more and more and more until she had nothing else to give. Skin against skin, warmth against warmth, El wished to become one with Shadowheart in that moment. One flesh, one heart, one star in the night sky’s endless sea.
They bit down on their lip in an attempt to stifle their louder moans. That wouldn’t do, now would it?
“Aha—” Shadowheart sounded breathless. “Let mommy hear you, love.”
El let go of her neck and laid flat on their back, bracketed by her arms. They felt small—caged. Perhaps even kept. “You feel so good, mommy, I—” Their eyes flickered down to where their body met hers. Their clit, swollen and hard and standing tall from between their folds, made contact with her pubic hair each time she pushed her hips forward. The contact, however brief, helped build upon the heat already pooling inside them. “—feel full.”
“I gonna—hah—come soon,” Shadowheart said, leaning down to rest on her elbows and press light kisses across El’s chest. She felt the root of her cock begin to swell, slowly but surely. “Think you can take my knot?”
“Yesyesyes—” El babbled, nearly incoherent. They wrapped their legs around her hips, trapping her—she couldn’t pull out, now, even if she’d wanted to. El wanted all of her.
Shadowheart let out a laugh before she took one of El’s stiff nipples into her mouth. She scraped it with her teeth, threatening to bite, and suckled on the sensitive bud. “Touch that pretty pussy for me, hm?” She spoke, words warm against their skin. When she raised her head to meet El’s eyes, they could see a ring of silver light around her irises, which only seemed to grow brighter the more she spoke. “Come with me, my love.”
El’s hand shot down their front, soon finding their clit. They did as she asked, and mangled, desperate moans spilled from their lips as the tension inside them pulled tighter and tighter. Their mind wasn’t empty, no, but their thoughts only focused on her. They wanted to come for her, on her, on her cock, on her knot—they only wanted to be good, and they were, weren’t they? They could be good.
Shadowheart’s thrusts soon fell out of rhythm. They were hurried, erratic—she was losing her composure.
Something about that, her desperation, pushed El over the edge. Their second orgasm felt even stronger than the first, causing the muscles in their legs and lower stomach to spasm, outside their control. They continued to rub themself throughout each wave of pleasure that washed over them, letting out a loud, shameless moan. Their release made a mess of the both of them, drenching Shadowheart’s hips and legs. That didn’t seem to bother her, however.
She kept on rutting into them through their orgasm, reaching her own peak soon after. She came with a cry, nearly collapsing onto El’s chest as she buried herself—and her knot, fully swollen now and leaving El oh-so full—into them, her cock-head brushing against their cervix as she spilled into them.
Then, she stilled. El could see her back rise and fall slightly with her breaths, which warmed their chest. Her hair looked a mess from this angle, the rough layers she cut herself just a night prior dampened by her sweat and what remained of the sea water. Compared to her old style—calm, collected, distant—she looked free, despite the mess. She looked happy, for once.
There was a furrow in El’s ‘brow, and their words came out slow. Wobbly. “I was… I was good, yeah?”
“Huh? Yes, yes, of course. You were just lovely,” Shadowheart pressed a couple soft, long kisses onto their belly and shifted her hips slightly, reminding them where they were connected. “If that wasn’t clear already. Mommy’s very proud of you.”
El’s face flushed for perhaps the millionth time that night, and all of the words they could’ve said died in their throat. In a couple of hours, the sun would rise and they’d go continue their search for the remaining Dead Three. In a couple of hours, the weight of all of their mistakes would only grow heavier.
That didn’t matter, now. El didn’t think so, anyway.