#whiskeyskin

Slap, slap, slap, slap

Sylus' thighs snapped up to greet yours, driving his thick cock inside you at a punishing pace. He held your hips firmly to hover you in the air for himself.

Supporting yourself on outstretched arms, you braced on his shoulders, pushing your trembling muscles against the marble of his skin.

In nothing but your summer dress bunched around your waist and yanked down under your breasts, Sylus fucked up into you from his office chair.

Slap, slap, slap, slap

You whined and moaned, as Sylus pressed hot kisses against your clavicle, down your sternum to your breasts. He bit and sucked hard on the inner slope, while they bounded in time with his thrusts.

Electricity spiked from where he marked you, your hands flying to fist and tug his gorgeous hair. A low growl rumbled deep in his broad chest and sang through the air.

"Mmngh-no fair kitten," his words were slurred from your nipple suckered in his mouth, "you can't distract me that easily."

"I'm gunna," you began, panting harshly, "bite you on the a-ass cheek when we're d-done, pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?" The faked indignation in his voice made your lips curl into a mischievous grin, "Would a pretty boy do this?"

He'd barely finished the word before he launched out of his seat and your back hit the desk. Shock eeked out a strangled cry, as you giggled in his strong grip.

Still inside you, he deftly aligned your legs along his beautiful body, crossing them at the ankles to lift you by them.

"Don't forget to breathe, kitten." His voice sounded like sex and pleasure; like fire and sin.

Without warning he resumed his pace, the proud head of his cock kissing against your cervix.

You gasped and screwed up your eyes against the newest incredible sensations. The feeling of his length plunging inside your warm, wanting cunt. Stretching deliciously around to welcome him home.

Shlick, shlick, shlick

"Listen to that. That sweet sound. That wet pussy." He drawled, a slightly mocking tone, "She's clenching around me sooo tightly. It feels good, huh?"

You tried to nod but your head lolled at the shunts of his body against yours. You tried to agree but only incoherent whimpers came out.

"Mmn-yeahh. Does he make you feel like this? That other pretty boy?" You can hear the sneer on his lip, "The other one you've been fucking."

You tried to say something. Refuse. Agree. Something.

But his other hand glided around your hips, up your belly and chest, to hover his fingers around your throat, like an ornate necklace.

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his to strengthen his grip. Your spirit sang with it, rippling pleasure across every inch of your skin. Your nipples puckered painfully, your muscles and sinew trembling with abject need.

"The one who's been crashing at your place when I'm not there. Who brings you food and thinks it means he can touch you."

Your legs cricket against his chest, your thighs burning. He knew what it meant. The sounds and sensations of his Evol echoed in your ears and held onto your curves, as he delved his peace fingers to circle your clit. Trembled whines slip past the force of his fingers on your pulse points. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, as your mouth slackens in ecstasy.

"You can sleep whomever you want, sweetie. But you'll always know I'm the only one who fucks you as good as this." The words curled around his growing satisfaction.

Tendrils of red and black mist wrap around your ankles and part your legs, hoisting them to accommodate his large frame. Climbing on the table to encase you with his body, his cock thrums deep inside you.

"No one in the entire universe can satisfy your desires like I can." He growled, muscles bunching and twitching. You knew what it meant, trying desperately to hold on until he came with you.

Sylus released your throat, then tightened his grip to your jaw, bringing your gaze to his. You almost swallow your own tongue as his hot, heavy gaze pierced you down, his right eye glowing threateningly.

"You. Are. Mine." The words rumbled around his office, like the thunderous promise of a monsterous creature claiming it's prize.

Sylus faltered and jerked, your body shuddered and jolted. Your orgasms cresting over the tallest peak in perfected synchronicity.. and the world fell away, dispersing into nothing but blood red and darkest black. ​

•°•°•

✧ Background: Farmer (Modded)

✦ Family History:

Grandparents: Petulna Hallowfern (Wood Elf) & Inton Mountwander (Lolth Drow)

Parents: Helwyn Hallowfern (Wood Elf/Drow) & Rhodugh Collins (Human)

Siblings: Suewen (Sister | Half Elf) 14 & Teirnan (Brother | Half-Elf) 8

✦ Pets / Animal Familiars:

She has pet hands called, This and That. They act like dogs and scuttle about like Thing from the Adam's Family.

Also.. the sweet little Hyena you can save in the Shadowcurse (mod).. he'd definitely be along for the journey!

✧ Three Words That Describe Them:

Spooky, Eccentric and Sweet

✦ Physical Trait / Anomaly / Disability:

Well. Undead for starters.

• Heavily scarred through lacerations on the entirety of her body, and a large angry scar down her face.

• Glowing chest in a sickly, putrid green colour.

• Left pelvis shattered and healed, so she has a limped gait.

(Although, as the story progresses, my baby starts to heal through her own journey.)

✧ Tadpole Status: (e.g., Expanded Potential / Half-Illithid / Fully Evolved)

Rejected

✦ Game Stats (RP Flavor or Mechanics):

• Strength: 8 (but less if I could)

• Dexterity: 12

• Constitution: 12

• Intelligence: 10

• Wisdom: 14

• Charisma: 16

✧ Companion Affinity Key:

(Use these emojis to describe the relationship between your OC and each companion)

💜 = Close bond / Romantic interest

💚 = Rivalry / Mutual respect

🧡 = Strong friendship / Ally

❤️ = Romantic interest / Complex bond

💙 = Trustworthy companion / Mentor

🤍 = Mutual admiration / Professional respect

🖤 = Complicated / Dislike / Hatred

✧ Companion Affinity:

Astarion ❤️💜🧡

Gale ❤️🧡💙

Halsin ❤️❤️💜

Jaheria  🤍💙

Karlach 🧡🧡🧡

Lae'zel 🤍🧡🧡

Minsc  🤍💙

Minthara 🤍💙

Shadowheart 🖤💚🧡

Wyll 🤍🧡💙

✦ Theme Music:

- Fight Song

Odysseus - Epic/Little Girl Gone - Chinchilla

- Love song

Infinity - Jaymes Young/At last - Etta James

- OC’s choice

The Challenge - Epic

- Romance Song

Colours of the Wind - Peyton Parrish

✧ Moodboards / Aesthetic Extras: Undeath and Unlife

✦ Voice Claim:

Hetty - Rebecca Wisock: Ghosts (US)

✦ Actor Claim:

Vanessa - Eva Green: Penny Dreadful

✧ Reputation / What Others Say:

People are pretty terrified of Helna when she first approaches, often startling backwards, or recoiling but they soon learn she's a darling.

"She's odd, but she's a good person."

✦ Beliefs / Personal Code:

No one will come to save you, but there's always a chance to save others.

✧ Most Prized Possession:

She doesn't have very many possessions, but she has things she's proud of.

Her book of pressed flowers, her many various disgusting crafts made of bone and scrap fabric.. and, eventually, her Grandmother's necklace hidden under the floorboards of her family home with the emblem of Silvanus.

✦ Greatest Fear:

Losing herself to the Shadowcurse.. and ladders!

✧ Alignment (Personal or D&D):

Neutral Good

✦ Authors Notes

• She fell in love with Halsin - even though she didn't know what it was at that point - when the local Druid Enclave came to visit and reforge their alliance/trades with Reithwin. They spoke briefly and both noticed the other, admiring each other across the distance between them.

• She's inspired by Laudna from Critical Role, but differs greatly in story - so no spoilers.

•°•°•

"We have to be quick." You warn, hurrying to unbuckle your belt, as Halsin shuts and locks the dining chamber door behind you both.

"Then we have no time for removing clothes," Halsin growls, pushing you roughly down on the long feasting table, "lie still, my heart."

He hoists your legs straight in the air with one large hand, your ankles held between his proud fingers. Then with the other hand, unceremoniously yanks your trousers and underwear off and up in one movement.

Gathering them up to your knees, he conjures a localised grease spell in his hand and pumps his thick cock three times, then rubs the rest on your twitching hole, venturing a firm finger inside. You gasp, throwing a hand over your mouth at the graceless intrusion.

"Not your usual decorum today, love?" you question through a tight pant.

"You asked for quick, my heart and if this is to be quick. I cannot be gentle." He warns, eyes hooded and jaw set.

Holding your legs together against his chest, he aligns himself and prods your tight entrance with his massive cockhead.

"Breathe deeply for me, little fawn. And stifle the scream." He instructs, pushing himself inside your tight walls.

Your chest hollows as the pain of his broad cock spears your sex, screwing your eyes against the tears pricking, and slamming your hand across your face to muffle the shout.

He doesn't stop, using the grease spell to slicken his entry, he drives himself inside to the hilt in three long strokes; gasping to the sky as he reaches the base.

The throbbing twitch of the intrusion painful, you hiss at the uncomfortable sting. Your face contorts, your breath held through gritted teeth.

"Breathe, my heart. It will help." He coaches, smoothing your thigh lovingly.

You know. You know it's worth it. It's always worth it.

"Fuck me, Halsin. It'll feel good once you stretch me to fit around you." You keen behind your fingers, breathing through the momentary discomfort.

Halsin acquiesces and begins pounding into your tight hole, the satisfying slap of skin on skin connection echoing around the chamber.

You breathe deeply through the deep thrusts of Halsin's girthy cock, listening to how good his groans rumbling in his haired chest sound. The tension in your body loosens, as the muscles relax around him, welcoming his gargantuan size. You release the grip on your mouth, as the feeling ripples over your body.

Your jaw slackens and your eyes roll up, arms splay to the side. You mewl out, "Yes, yes, yes."

The table clatters and screeches underneath you at the sheer force of Halsin's hips driving inside your now pliant body.

"Yes, my heart. Body limp, head empty, getting thoroughly fucked out by 'The Mighty Bear of the Emerald Grove'." He growls out the nickname you gave him the first night you had sex.

You reply a blissed cackle, as your head flops around, in rhythm with his viciously pounding hips.

The roiling pleasure radiating from your core has you in a chokehold, you could barely breathe from desire and lust. He'd never been this demanding before. This rough and careless.

Gone was the tender lover you knew, and while you missed him gently preparing you to take him; you couldn't deny that seeing him this voraciously feral for you wasnt immensely - licentiously - erotic and vulgar.

Looking up at the towering Elf above you, your legs crossed at the ankle, pressed against his chest. His one hand holding you there, the other digging bruising fingers into your hips.

Slamming up inside you, Halsin grunts and groans. The grease and sweat mixing to make the sex slippery sweet. Hitting the bundle of nerves inside you at the perfect angle, your body begins to tremble.

Halsin sees your change and knowingly drives faster, leaning his body down over you and fucking into you deeper.

He moves to play with your sex, to use his hand to drive you to ecstasy quicker. Your breath sticks in your chest and it heaves to keep up, shuddering out a loud moan.

It's too much, as you hurtle full speed towards release. Your hands fly to grasp any of him you could muster, to delay the inevitable but he shirks off your meager attempts. You try to move away but his strong grip keeps you trapped.

"You're not getting away, little fawn. I have you, and I'm going to paint your insides white with my seed. I will claim you. Claim you as mine. Mine." He rumbles the last word thorough his chest and picks up the force of his hips to snap against the backs of your thighs even harder, stroking your sex in sublime synchronicity, "Mine."

A strangled scream wrenches from your chest, as your climax pulls you under, drowning you in a sea of Halsin; of his autumn scent, his divine spirit, his inscrutable loyalty and his delicious, thick cock spurting inside your walls as he roars in rapturous abandon above you.

Release crashes down around both of you, as you feel your sex flood, coating him and yourself in your essence. He slams his hips against you, burying himself to the hilt as he spasms inside your exhausted body. Heaving out loud, whined breaths through a tense throat, he twitches the last spurts of cum.

You barely had enough time to comprehend the orgasm you'd had, before he slips himself abruptly from you. Patting you on the ass and pulling down your garments, sliding them under your cheeks.

Tucking himself into his waistband, still half-hard, covered in grease and a sinful mixture of both your cum; he smirks down at you.

"I think that lesson was sufficient." He irks a brow, a cocky grin on his face.

Your legs uncomfortably bent off the table's edge, you clumsily sit up, "What lesson was that?" You ask unsure, readjusting your garment's rough placement by Halsin's hand, your eyes still bleary from tears.

"That when I need to, I can be quick. And that I choose to spend countless hours pleasuring you by agonising choice. To not excite myself into ending everything too soon." He cups your jaw and sweeps his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you hard. Gods, he still tastes like sex. How could you still need him after just cumming?

"Oh." Was all your scrambled brain could manage, ears still ringing.

"Now, you'll spend the rest of the day with my seed leaking from your aching hole, until I fill you again tonight." He croons against your lips, "Now, thank me."

"Thank you, Halsin." You blubber, still not quite present.

He bares down on you, thumbing your cheek softly, "Good, little fawn."

•°•°•

There's plenty more smutty goodness where that came from, take a peek! 👀🥴

"Here." You hand Xavier a tissue from the box next to on the sofa where you've been cuddling.

It's been a sleepy Saturday morning with anime and honey drizzled pancakes but you were feeling mischievous.

Phone propped and recording, you hatch your plan.

"Oh. Do I have some honey on my face?" He asks, his brows creasing upwards as he dutifully begins swiping his mouth.

"No, I'm just getting my seat clean." The words curl out of you in slow seduction, trying to keep from breaking.

His face drops in shock, his big blue eyes widening. You can practically see the cartoon eyes bulging out his head and start to laugh.

He curls his shoulders in with a breathy chuckle then tilting up his anything but innocent gaze to you, he says.

"I've been waiting so long for you to sit on my face. C'mere." He reaches to pull you in.

"Whoa, whoa, Xavi. It's a joke, I'm recording." You protest, gesturing your thumb behind you.

He follows your motion and sees your phone leaning against the lamp and shrugs.

"Keep recording. Then we'll have video evidence of your first time riding my face."

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

It had been such a beautiful day, only made better by Zanye's wonderful company. Plus, he'd brought even more desserts. Obviously.

You'd been wanting to indulge in the new Moments trend of "cleaning off your seat" with him. He was always so stoic, until you were alone.

A devious part of you wondered what his response would be if you were in public.

Pressing the button to record, you pretend to film a little of the surrounding area. It was very serene, with a few people milling around in the midweek sun.

"Say Hi, Zayne!" You call out, smiling and turning the camera at him.

A tight smile returned, with a flash of happy embarrassment in his eyes, "Hi, Zayne." He replied, a joking curve on his mouth.

"Oh." You began, grabbing a napkin and wiping his face with it.

He dutifully offers his face, "Do I have crumbs?"

"No, I'm just making sure I have a clean seat for later." You cocked your head at him and bit down the grin forming at the corners of your lips.

His body freezes, his face stuck. The only movement is the fluttering of his eyelashes as he blinks rapidly.

His gaze moves from your phone, to the tissue; then scans the surroundings militantly.

"For later?" He murmurs, leaning in. His eyes turning sharp and sinful, "Why not right now?"

You shoot a laugh, "Cause we're out in public, Zayne."

"So?" His voice is soft, but it promises nothing but passion, "There are plentiful bushes in our vicinity, and the footpath is quite far away."

Taking your phone from your grip, he throws it to the side.

"You started this little game, did you really think I wouldn't want to play?"

Rafayel has been buried in his painting since yesterday, barely taking a moment to feed, or hydrate himself.

Thomas was thrilled, you were not.

You'd managed to finally coax him down from his ladder perch with snacks and treats. He absent-mindedly picked at the food, still staring at his work.

You frowned. This painting was quickly becoming an enemy. And you needed to show it who was boss.

You'd seen the trend online, you'd been wanting to test it out. Now was an interesting time to try.

Phone recording in one hand, you took your sleeve with the other and began dabbing at his mouth.

"Mmnh, whad'are you doing, cutie? I don't have crumbs."

"No, I just wanted to wipe my seat before you eat your dessert."

It took him a second; you saw his curls gently twitch as he figured out what your were inferring.

His face slowly rounded on you, cheeks rosy red and pinked eyes full of mischief.

"Oh, you're so kind, Miss. I'd love a slice of that cherry pie," He began to crawl towards you, biting his lip.

You could help but bite your own, when you saw the instantaneous transformation.

"Mm. We could make it a cream pie, if you wanted." He suggested, cheekily.

You gasped at his boldness, "Rafayel Qi! That's filthy!"

He shrugged remorseless, "You were the one wiping my face down to clean your seat. Don't get shy on me now, cutie."

It was probably best to cut off the video there.

Watching the classics in the dark, snuggled up with a nice glass of wine was always a favourite way to spend the quiet evenings with Sylus.

He was quite the cinephile.

The film wasn't really what you wanted though. And Sylus knew it. He was just playing hard to get.

Bastard.

You took out your phone and started recording front facing, then left it rest in your lap.

The compliation videos you'd seen of women "cleaning off" their seat for later was bound to wind him a little tighter. He deserved a little punishment for making you wait.

"Oh." You said casually, bunching your oversized jumper's sleeve to brush on his mouth.

Sylus' brow furrowed and his lips pursed, "Sweetie. What are you doing? Do I have something on my face?"

"What? Oh, no." You replied, continuing your motions.

His brow irked, "So what are you wiping my face for?"

"I'm just cleaning my seat for later." The casual tone of your voice trembled, and you bit your lip, "Don't worry about it. Just watch the film." You turned to face the tv again, pulling every ounce of yourself to not laugh.

When you looked back on the footage later, you'd seen his eyes pulse wider, his eyebrow arch higher and his incredulous expression at your boldness.

His eyes had dipped to the phone in your lap, the dangerous glow of his right eye rippled and he'd looked back to the tv with a stony but shit-eating expression.

The moment the film hit credits, your thighs were scooped under his shoulders and your back had hit the windowed wall quicker than you could react.

At the top of the N109 Zone, draped over Sylus' shoulders, you definitely had had the best seat in the world.

You thought you were sly propping your phone against the microwave. You'd seen the trend on Moments of women wiping off their partners mouth for sitting on and wanted to test it out.

Walking over to Caleb with kitchen towel in your hand, you attack his face, wiping off his mouth.

"Hey! What are you doin', Pips?"

"Nothing. Just wiping off my seat for later."

His body falters, expression amused but stunned, his mouth peeling slowly open into an O.

Laughter erupts from you at his reaction, blushing as you do. His shocked belly laugh ricochets around the room as you laugh together.

Then he bites his bottom lip, still smiling widely.

"Why later, when we could do it now?" The playfulness in his eyes turn scandalous.

He takes the paper from your hands and tucks it into his jean pocket, "We'll keep this for later, when I really need to clean my face." He pumps his brows in quick succession before picking you up one handed.

You shriek in surprise but automatically wrap your legs around his waist, giggling wildly as he carts you off to the bedroom.

Your phone's still recording 2 hours and several orgasms later.

Maybe your should edit that before you post it.

•°•°•

After laying in the gentle glow of the morning through darkened curtains, watching his beautiful slumbering features; sharp yet soft on his porcelain skin, you slide under the bedsheets.

The expensive sheets barely rustle against your skin as you descend, the smell of fresh linens and clean, warm masculine energy enveloping your senses.

Stopping at the curve of his fine behind, his long leg is bent in a 45° angle at the hip, giving just a hint of space between him and the plush mattress; but it's not enough.

Humming a soft sigh to yourself, you wonder how to get him on his back. You smirk and press your mouth to his strong thighs, peppering the area with kisses, and stroking down his back to his firm ass.

Above you, he stirs gently, flexing and twitching away from the tickling sensation. He moves away, turning to his side and you see your opportunity.

Diving between his thighs, you cup the back of them and kiss the creases of his perfect obliques. Trailing your tongue down the lines of his pelvis, pushing him onto his back.

His cock is awake before he is, thick and proud against his taut stomach, in the muted light under the blankets. You continue to press your wet mouth in languishing kisses against his skin, suckering small bruises there.

Sylus groans above you, illiciting a tumble from your stomach and filthy smirk on your lips.

He'll be awake soon, you need to make your move.

Positioning yourself between his long limbs, you begin to stroke his cockhead between peace fingers and thumb. Precum gathers in beads as you gently pump, bringing your lips to kiss his marbled length, licking and suckling the throbbing veins of his shaft.

Sylus moans heavier now, a soft grunt at the back of his throat, as his legs begin to rub against the sheets.

You swipe a stripe of saliva up his cock and take his head into your hot mouth. Sylus' muscles tremble and tense at the sensation, sending a shuddering moan from his chest to his throat.

You get to work; bobbing your head on just the first two inches of him, your fist teasing in tandem with your mouth.

He huffs quickly, jerking up slightly and you know he's awake. You hear him make a noise of surprise, then a moan through a smile before, "My, my, kitten. What a welcome way to wake up."

You ignore him, but can't help but smile around his dick in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the head, you try to stop grinning but you can't.

He moans out a long, breath then sucks in air quickly, "What's brought this on I wonder? Have I been an especially good boyfriend, or are you just extremely happy to see me this morning?" He questions in a relaxed, deep tone. The echoes of sleep still present in his voice, just like the audio he'd sent.

Your answer is to moan and take him deeper in your mouth. Sylus jerks and gasps, groaning into the morning haze.

Struggling slightly to take his thick length, you choke slightly; your inner walls clench around the absence of him inside you.

The thought of his gorgeous cock gliding inside your throbbing, needful cunt. The feeling of his thick girth filling and deliciously stretching your pussy. The drag of him against the ripples of your soaked channel. The sinful noise of the satisfying squelch and slap of his hips thrusting against you, as your unabashed need for him drips down your thighs.

Your mouth fills with saliva and the blow job turns wetter, sloppier; more frantic.

Staccato breaths machine gun from his mouth, in time with your strokes. Suddenly, the covers are wrenched back and you're greeted by the sight of your love; slightly sweating, mouth gaping and right eye glowing.

You flash your eyelashes up at him, like you know he likes and you see him visably melt, as his mouth snakes into a grin.

"Yes, kitten. Just like that--Oh--Look up at me, just like that-Ah!" He moans, fisting the expensive sheets tightly.

You slide your non-dominant hand to push his legs further apart, and he kindly obliges. Releasing his cock with a small pop, you lick your bottom lip and graze it with your teeth, as you stare up at him; your hand never ceasing it's delicate dance from root to tip.

"You invited me to come see if you had bed head," your face spreads into a gleeful and mischievous smile, "Well, now you do."

Sylus' head tilts to the side in confusion, then realisation, as he breathes out through a warm grin, "I'll have to make flippant innuendos like that more often." He makes to sit up, reaching to cup your face but you shake your head and push him back down. Breath sharply huffs out from his from the force of your exertion, a deviously kinked smirk curves on his delicious mouth.

Stroking his slickened length in your hand, you flatten to the bed and move to suckle on his balls. Flicking your tongue on the sensitive skin between them, then sucking them into your mouth to massage them.

Sylus stretches his head back, and you see the strong column of his neck strain, as he clenches his jaw.

His Adam's apple bobs, as he swallows dryly, "You're so good at that, sweetie." He praises, hoarsely.

Feeling a little brave, you open your mouth and lick behind his sac hard, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves there, making him twitch involuntarily.

He shudders a chuckle, "Feeling adventurous today, are we? Mm, not that I mind but I do miss that beautiful mouth on my cock." He hums, his every word driving you to distraction. You feel your heartbeat in your vagina from how desperate and wet you are.

You scoot back to your knees, parting them so your soaked pussy almost grinds on the black sheets. Sliding two fingers inside your lace panties, you daub your digits in your desire and offer them to him.

"Ohh, kitten." His voice rumbles low and shakes your soul, making you audibly gasp, "That's filthy. I like it."

He grips your wrist with immense speed and suckers your fingers into his awaiting mouth; you wrap your lips around his thick cock once more and take him as deep as you physically can.

He gasps around your digits, as your gag reflex constricts around his dick, "Ohh, yesss." He hisses in satisfaction, clamping his fingers down on your pulse point, to help block the reflex.

Using your fist for the last few inches of him, you choke down his cock; gargling and gagging on him. Your mouth and throat licentiously slickened to welcome him inside.

His hand rests on the back of your head, "Tap on my arm if you want me to stop." He instructs, waiting for you to agree, before meeting your swallows with his thrusts.

Still trying to maintain control, his hips struggle to keep his speed slower, with the telltale desire welling up inside him. Those shuddering gasps; the breathy moans.

You know what he sounds like on the edge of sanity, the dangerous game of teetering just on the rim of a perilous precipice.

In the shower, in the car while he drives.. under his desk. The memory of his cock gliding down your throat, his cum trickling from the corners of your mouth..

Planting his feet on the bed, he encapsulates you inside his warm, pale thighs. Pulsing his hips up to gently fuck your throat, he groans and reels his head back.

"Uhh, that's a very good kitten." He purrs, through rough desire.

His words flip your stomach, clench your pussy and make your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He kisses your licked clean fingers before releasing them back to you.

"Brace yourself, I want control for a while." He instructs, and dutifully you open your throat, hollowing your cheeks.

Using the bounce of the mattress's momentum, he fucks his cock down your pretty, pliable throat. Long, hard thrusts push passed your reflex, as tears prick in your eyes. Looking up at him through bleary eyes, he gruffly moans through gritted teeth.

"You.. look so b-beautiful like that. Taking me so--so well. Gynah. Mm.." he praises in a low purr.

You try to respond, to tell him how much you love taking care of him like this, reciprocating his endless and enthusiastic kindness between your legs. All you can manage are garbled noises of wanton delight, as your lips kiss against the edge of your fist.

He growls, throwing his head back and arching against your mouth, "Finish me, sweetie. Like you did before.. Please.. Both hands." He asks so sweetly, with a flex of his brow.

As you retreat back up his cock, he removes one hand from your head and places it behind his head, smirking and lounging like a cat that got all the cream. His cock soaked with your saliva, the large wet patch below him shadowed under his tight butt cheeks.

"Are you sure?" You ask, winding your first fist around the head, "You know it's intense."

"Mmhm." He rumbles low, irking a brow. Holding out his hand, seeking the connection.

A moment of purity passes between you both. A space in time when all pretence falls away.

Where the 'Sylus Bravado' melts to reveal the man beneath, desperate for unconditional love and acceptance.

You see him. And he sees you.

To be worthy.

To be loved, wholly and completely.

Two motes of being within the vast cosmos, drawn together through lightyears of unfathomable deepspace, cursed to spent blessed lifetimes together.

Your fingers entwine, fingers overlapping as your resonance rushes forward. The deep red and midnight black warmed by the radiant golden glow of your bond together.

Emotion. Intensity. Resistance.

You take him into your mouth, suckling slowly on his sensitive head; testing his resolve. Sylus gasps and bites his teeth together.

"More. I can take it." He insists, his voice desperate, muscles tense. You push harder.

Need. Possession. Yearning.

Sweeping your tongue firmly against the underside of his cock, you envelop his swollen purplish-pink head inside your willing mouth.

Desire. Jealousy. Determination.

Your speed increases, bobbing your head in perfect rhythm with your fist. The pulse of his veins rippling against your tongue.

Sylus makes a strained eeking noise, it's almost in pain, if it didn't sound so lyrical, "Keep going." He begs, hand gripping tighter.

Selfishness. Envy. Longing.

You pick up the pace; a barrage of lips, tongue and throat on his delectable cock. The wet, debauched sounds of slippery, messy oral sex, gladly fill the room.

His legs twitch and tremble aside you, as his angelic face contorts with ecstasy. Brows soft, then harsh. Teeth bared in struggle, then satisfaction.

Eyes fixed on each other, you see the orgasm building brick by brick.

Hesitation. Surrender. Completion.

His cock tenses and throbs under your tongue.

Realisation. Acceptance. Love.

The word left unspoken between you, the glow of your resonance blinding; Sylus jerks and cries out raggedly against the tide of climax.

He shudders and trembles as he cums, "Yes, kitten, yes! Just like that--Just like that! Agrh. Mmn. Ngh! Mine. Mine-MmNGH. All mine.."​

Hot spurts of warm cum shoot inside your mouth and slide down your throat but you continue your ministrations, guiding him through the limitless expanse of orgasm.

He sucks in a hiss against the potential for overstimulation, humming through heavy breaths; still holding tightly onto your hand.

You swallow down the last drops of him, licking his sensitive slit, still blooming with after affects.

Pleasure that fathomless had a price.

Defeated, his erection subsides, laying exhausted on his stomach. Sylus takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself after such a release.

You'd experimented with using resonace during sex but it had left you both nigh incapacitated for the rest of the day.

You press gentle kisses along his body, as you trace yourself across every inch. Gazing down at his spent, breathless self you smirk to yourself.

"What?" He questions, irking a laboured brow.

You grin into the crook of your shoulder and smooth down his wildly tousled hair, "That's definitely some good bed head."

He shoots out a quick shot laugh, his eyes barely able to focus, drunk on the feeling of you.

"Sweetie. Give me some time to recover and I'm going to return the favour tenfold."​

𓅂

He didn't respond, he just kept looking blankly down at the phone screen. The colours flashed across his melancholic features, his glasses shining with refractions of cruel sentiments and bitter words.

You sigh, and slowly reach your hand across his vision, clicking the side button to close his phone. Shadow blinks over his face, shielding him from the vicious attacks he'd been subjected to these past few days.

Sighing deeply again, he slowly stretches his head back to lean on the plush couch.

You didn't say anything into the silence, you let it sit undisturbed. It isn't your moment to speak.

Again, he sighs.

"I just didn't think they'd hate me this much." The pinch in his throat was evidence of his welling emotions.

"They don't hate you. You're just the face of all the problems they've been dealing with. Plus an unhealthy dose of crazy." You try to explain, with an added, futile attempt, at comedy.

"It's valid." His voice was hollow.

"No, it's not." You emphasise every word, furrowing your brow, "You know it's not. They don't even know you."

"They know enough."

You immediately shuffle closer and grab his face, the sadness in expression turning to surprise.

"No, they don't!" You counter, getting angrier, "They don't know the first thing about the real you. And know they'll never get to, unless we go down there and fight for you."

Valko shakes his head, "I appreciate you wanting to help but we aren't gunna make a difference--"

"--Oh, when I say 'we', I mean the fandom. Trust me, they won't stand for this."

Valko closes his eyes and winces away from your touch, brows creasing, "You don't understand--"

"No, I don't. I don't understand. I don't understand why they've made this decision. I don't understand why you're getting so much hate and I especially don't understand why you're letting this bother you so much.." Your voice fades, pivoting from frustration to understanding, searching for an answer.

It doesn't come easily. He refuses meet your eye.

"What..?" You keep your voice low, searching every inch of his beautiful face, as you gently thumb his cheek.

After a long, tenuous pause, he swallows, "I know I come across as arrogant, or smug, or an asshole at times. But you know.. it's all just.." he shrugs his shoulders, his gaze unsteady.

"The Alpha?"

"An act." He says with finality. His golden eyes finally look up into yours, an abyss of vulnerablity contained within them you'd not seen before, "It's not real. It's bravado. A protective blanket to cover a lifetime of insecurity. Of never being good enough. Never smart enough, never fast enough."

You blink unbelieving, lightly shaking your head against his protests, "Val.."

"And now everyone is screaming exactly what I've always believed about myself. Tagging me, tweeting me, DM'ing me--"

"--Then block them--"

"--I am! They're too fast for me to keep up." He defends, shaking his fists in frustration with tears welling.

You grab his phone and throw it on the armchair by the bookshelves.

"There. Gone." It wasn't angry, it was final, "No more. Enough."

He rolls his neck from side to side and throws his rapidly filling eyes to the ceiling, "I don't know what to do." He turns his sorrowful gaze to you, tears threatening, "Tell me what to do."

He was lost. Adrift in a sea of hatred and toxicity. Mired in a quagmire of his own unwarranted feelings of inadequacy, which was being compounded on by vicious liars and false accusations.

You wanted him to understand that while he felt lost, he wasn't alone. He had you. And you knew this backlash and foul behaviour was by a select and loud few. It wasn't how the fandom thought as a whole - it may not be perfect - but it was never like this.

It was never meant to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

You were so tired, you'd been fighting against the decision to cancel him for over a week and the announcement had finally been made.

You were exhausted.

Delirious.

You wanted to forget this whole situation just as much as he needed to.

So sleep deprived that you thought your next idea was a very good one. Plus you'd be kinda wanting to for a while..

"Take off your pants." You order casually.

"What? Why?" His face jerks into confusion.

"Because you need cheering up and I need a distraction."

His features turned to a questioning squint, "But then my legs will be cold.. why would I take my pants off?"

You sigh and roll your eyes around. How could a man be so smart, and so dumb at the same time? Placing a firm hand on his forearm, you enlighten him, "So I can blow you, Val."

His eyes widen to saucers and his cheeks instantly bloom pink, "Huh?"

"You heard me." You jutt out your chin, faking confidence.

Bravado, as the little Wolf said.

For a long moment he simply stares at you, but you could see the thoughts flashing across his mind at top speed, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

Unsure croaking echoed from his throat, "What..? You're serious? I mean you're not--of course you're not. You're joking. You're joking, right? There's no way you're being serious. Are ya? Cause if you're messing with me, ya couldn't have picked a worse time--"

Slowly, with enough time to stop you if he wanted, you grasp the back of his neck and tilt your head to plant a kiss squarely on his beautiful mouth. And you feel him kiss you back.

Warmth spreads through your lips and ripples your body, tingling your brain and flooding you with hormones.

Breaking the kiss, with barely a whisper of air between you, you ask, "Does that feel like I'm joking?" Curled in a low, playful register.

Pulling back, you see his eyelids flutter up over doped eyes. Holding his chin, you repeat your instruction, "Take off your pants, Valko."

He swallows and pants softly, mouth hanging open, then nods in a daze.

Securing your hair off your face, you stand in front of him, as he presses up through his feet and slides off his grey joggers.

His large cock jutts free from a sprawl of burgundy curls, thick and proud; the sweet lines of his obliques leading the way down to Nirvana.

You couldn't help but instinctively balk at the size of him, eyes widening. You knew he'd be big; he was a big boy. And he was hard just for you.

Biting your lip at the sight of him hard infront of you. Your stomach tumbles, and your core clenches uncomfortably with desire, as you look down on him with heavily-lidded eyes.

He clumsily licks over his lips, "Is-is it okay? I know the part where the knot.. Well, it's--"

"--Really hot?" You interrupt, curling your tongue around your smirk.

"Yeah?" He asked breathlessly, replying with this own smirk.

"Mhm," you murmur, as you descend to your knees, open hands resting on his muscular thighs. Half to tantalise, half to make sure you didn't fall over from our light-headed you felt.

He watches you intensely, topaz eyes alight with desire that follow you down.

Your heart is in your throat. Your lungs barely expanding through tight, measured breathing. Your head feels like it's being robbed of oxygen and replaced with pure oxytocin.

Searing heat rushes through your body; the horny version of fight, or flight taking hold of your adrenaline, spiking viciously. It has your vision blurring before you've even put your mouth on him.

His golden eyes almost glitter in the soft lamp light, as he utters, "Are you sure?"

You smile softly and nod, "I want to make you feel as incredible as I know you are. And, honestly? I've kinda wanted to do it for a while now." You admit, revealing a shy half smirk.

His brows sweetly crease upwards, as his expression eases into relieved acceptance, "I'm not gunna pretend like I haven't imagined this.."

"Well," you brush your palms between his legs and part his musclar thighs, "You don't just imagine it anymore."

Maintaining eye contact, you begin to kiss the inside of his meaty thighs. He hisses inward at the delicate contact, a slight squeak in the exhale. You pay careful attention to both his thighs, book-ending you between them, as you inch your way towards his twitching cock.

Slowly, delicately; torturously.

Patiently running your palms across his skin, raking your nails across his tensing muscles. Gliding one hand up his toned stomach, as the other draws circles on his hips.

You dive beneath his tee to shamelessly grab a titty. His peck bunches under the dig of your nails and he groans through gritted teeth.

"Fu--" he clamps his mouth shut to not curse.

Reaching the crease of his toned stomach with your tongue, you slather it along the muscular lines of his abs. His cock trembling and twitching less than an inch from your face.

Drawing your hand down his torso in incremental, slow circles, you begin to gently bite the meat of his hips.

"Mmmh, y-yeah." He hiccups, hips jerking him down to his toes as he moans.

"Does that feel good?" You whisper through pointed consonants, your hand trailing lower.

"It tickles, but like in the best way--hn!" His body flinches as you lick a sly tongue over his leaking tip.

He tastes salty. It intoxicates you.

Torn between looking at his beautiful, agonised face, mouth open and gasping for more; or his veined cock, flexing in bursts, leaving stretching trails of precum sticky on his stomach. You decide on both and flick another lave of your tongue and hum a satisfied moan.

"Mmm, you taste so good already." You purr, fluttering your eyes to momentarily close for good measure.

His brows crease upward and his mouth gapes, "Yeah..?" He tries, weakly.

"Mhm, I can't wait to taste you properly," your hand wanders into his happy trail, "to taste your cum as you cum down my throat."

His whole body shudders as you wrap your hand around his gorgeous cock and squeeze around the base. You can already feel his knot ready to swell from how aroused he was, the thrum of power behind it.

He barks out a hollowed call and you feel his thumping heartbeat through his dick, as it pulses more sticky anticipation.

He struggles an attempt to speak, "Mmnh, careful with t-that thing. It's sens-ens-itive."

You can't help but grin sinfully at his feeble warnings, as you glide your hand up his enormous length to test his head between your first three fingers. The wet viscosity of his precum coating your fingers and his purpling tip, as you softly test his resolve.

His canines flash as his fist slams down on a couch cushion beside him, clutching onto the plush fabric tight enough to permanently mark it.

You reach for him, barely covering his huge hand with yours, "Breathe, puppy, breathe.." you soothe, interlacing palm to back of hand, "I'm going to take really good care of you.."

"Mm-mm-I know.. I know.. feels s'good already." He opens his bleary eyes, irises glowing bright behind the blown wide black slits of his pupils, "Please-please.. more.. pleease."

The heavy weight of his cock trembles beneath your pumping fingers, as you peel his grip from from the pillow and place it against your cheek. The size of his hand dwarfs your face, as you press a gentle kiss against the lines of his wrist.

"I've got you. I've always got you." You whisper sincerely, pouring adoration and love through your gaze.

He nods, mouth creasing with emotion and eyes watering with something other than sorrow. Thumbing your cheek, he swallows thickly then sighs contentedly.

Guiding his cock to your lips, eye contact burning hot between you both, you take his cockhead into your mouth. His jaw falls open and his pupils flicker wildly, as he watches you welcome his dick inside your mouth.

You watch the features of his angelic face fall into ecstasy, crumble into oblivion; as your tongue encircles his plump head, then works the underside.

His hand falls to your shoulder and squeezes, as his chest rises and falls with deep, cleansing exhales that banish all the lingering hurt and stress.

Barely wrapping your fist around his enormous girth, and your lips around what you could fit, you work them in tandem to deliver him a slice of his own personal heaven. Slow at first, meeting your fist at the middle to warm up to his size. Then faster, a little deeper everytime; squeezing your tongue around the underside of his cock.

"Ahhhggh, fffuck--" The words fall pretty and breathless, as he muffles his keens against the back of his forearm.

Spurred by his reaction, you change positions and take him rougher; deeper, nastier.

"Ohh, fuck." His hand slaps down hard on the back of the couch, the wood groaning under his grip.

His back bows off the plush sofa, his face contorting in divine anguish. The garbled, sloppy sound of your mouth and throat grow louder, and so do his moans.

You feel a tickling on your knees and hear loud thudding, as his tail springs from him, wagging zealously and hitting the couch edge. His ears shoot upwards and erect, twitching and straining to pick up every slovenly noise.

You hum moans of enjoyment that vibrate your throat, letting him know that this feels good for you too. That this is what you want. Encouraging, deep moans from your heart, that let him know it'll all be okay.

Taking your other hand from his thigh, you wrap it around his straining knot at the base of his cock and begin stroking and gently squeezing it. Your other had still stroking him in rhythm with your mouth.

"Ohh-ohh my god." He whimpered, voice trembling.

The tension in his body was at breaking point, he was shaking from the force of his muscles pulled so tight.

You release him with a pop and tease your fingers over the tip, "Do you wanna cum, Val? Do you wanna cum for me?"

The scrambling, wanton noise he makes grips the back of your skull and has you imagining what he'd sound like if you sank your slick, dripping pussy down on him.

"I-I-" he stumbles with hissing breaths, "I don't wanna disappoint you. Don't want ya thinking I c-can't hold on a little long-onger."

"Shut up, idiot. Be a good wolf and cum for me."

That triggers something.

A.. Rumble.

A deep, cavernous rumbling growl from the darkest parts of the beast in him. The possessive, untamble, unbridled creature that lurks just beneath the carefully laid surface.

The sound shakes the books on the shelves, the lamp on the coffee table, the plant pots on the floor. It vibrates through his body, and reverberates through yours, blurring the sense of where he starts and you begin. It teases the veil between fiction and reality, the metaphorical and tangible.

Your pussy clenches around the aching ghost of him filling you entirely, the pleasure and pain of taking him down to the base. The throb of his knot as it forces it's way passed your swollen pussy lips to keep him deep inside you, where it was warm and welcome.

"Y-yess. Oh, my-g-god." He manages, practically swallowing his own lolling tongue, "Don't stop. Please--don'tstoppleasee."

Taking him in your mouth again, pushing passed the tears pricking in your eyes at his length. Mouth and hands working, adoring, worshipping; squeezing, stroking, swallowing.

Your eyes roll up into your head from the heady high of his threating orgasm. He was a mess. Panting pathetically, practically slobbering; his angular features cast in abject pleasure. You chase his inevitable release down like a hunter closing in on her prey.

His back arches, toes curling, thighs bowed out from tension and he falls over the precipice; surrendering to his Hunter.

Ragged, unyielding cries wrench from his chest and hoarse throat, as his hips jerk and sputter against your fists, "RAUGHH--AUGH--AGHH! MMNGH!"

He howls and moans, thrusting up deeper into your mouth, cumming in waves and spurting himself on your tongue.

He kept cumming, even as you gently stroke him down from his high. His pulsing cock wringing him of every ounce to claim your mouth with his taste and you licked up every drop he gave.

His knot now thickly pronounced and rock hard, cock still proudly erect, you stroke slowly and purposefully over every inch for the subtle aftershocks of overstimulation. He keens through a rumble, twitching and smiling down at you with a blissed out, glassy expression.

Both coming down from the moment shared between you, you blink several times.

"Whoa." Was all you could think to say.

"Yeah.." came his breathy reply, "Ohh.. that was.." he scoffs through a beaming smile, "incredible.. fuck." He looks exhausted, as his head lolls around.

"Why, thank you. I'm here all week." You tip a imaginary hat.

He laughs, breathlessly, "Oh, I'm willing if you are. My god." He clacks his tongue dryly against the roof of his mouth, "Jeez. That. I mean--holy god.. that was.."

He burbles like that for several minutes.

You thoughtfully go to grab a glass of cold water for him, while he reorients himself and tucks back into his pants.

You hand him the chilled glass of water and wipe the condensation off your fingers.

"Don't be mad." He prefaces, his face in a wince, "I may have broken the couch."

You mouth widens, shocked, as he leans forward to reveal he has indeed.. broken the couch. Snapped the back support beam in two splintered pieces, actually.

Covering your mouth to snicker you ask, "Wha--How the hell did that happen?"

"Uhh, were ya not there when you just gave me the best head of my life? Can ya blame me?" He irks a brow at you and shrugs out his shoulders with what could only be described as a wolfish smile.

You smirk.

There he was. There was Valko Ao.

You giggle, preening at the compliment, "Oh, I was there. That was hot. Right?"

His expression dazed into unabashed fervency, "That was so hot. God. I don't think I'll ever feel my toes again. They're still freakin' numb!"

He takes a huge glug of water to quench himself, then another.

You bite your bottom lip and shrug as you move to sit down beside him, "Oops, sorry not sorry."

He drains the glass and huffs out a long sigh. There's a peaceful silence between you both until he yawns widely.

"I needed that. Ohmygod." He admits, blinking labouredly. A calm settling over him that you'd not seen since before his first trailer was released.

"Something you also need. Bed." You tilt your head to him and poke his nose, as he yawns again.

He pauses, looking up at you with an expression you can't quite fathom; something between expectation, want and exhaustion.

"Would you-would you stay with me tonight? I don't wanna be alone." He croaks, straightening his glasses.

You reach across the small divide and brush back his slightly sweat damp hair, "Of course I will."

•°•°•

In the morning, you're the first to blearily open your eyes. You brain doesn't give you a moment's peace before the heavy stone yesterday's cancellation announcement lands in your gut.

Feeling a solid, warm wall of muscle behind you, you remember you slept in Valko's bed last night.

You tilt your head to see his beautifully slumbering features pressed close to your hair and purse your lips fondly in sorrow for your poor Wolf.

You couldn't understand the decision that was made. The blind hatred he'd received.

Your gaze flicks to your phone and you bite the inside of you lip.

What ramifications did today have in-store?

You quietly reach for you phone, and carefully lay back down in Valko's arms.

Jesus Christ. How many notifications did you have?!

Clicking into them, you read the comments, posts, links to videos and discussion boards, links to petitions; a world wide cry for the Wolf to return. Your eyes swell with tears and you beam a huge grin.

You knew the fandom wouldn't let him down.

"Val. Valko. Wake up!" You hush, gently shaking him awake, "Val, wake up."

"Mm? Mm? What? What happened?" He murmurs, groggily awakening.

"Look!" You turn the brightness down and show him the phone, scrolling through to show him the hundreds, and hundreds, and hundreds of cries in every language in support of him.

You heard a loud sniff behind you and look back. His cheeks are stained with tears and his eyes brim with even more, as he smiles.

He smiles wider, showing his cute little fangs and you press a kiss to his mouth, "I told you the fandom wouldn't let you down."

•°•°•

This was a catharsis 🤌 and I hope you enjoyed 😏😅 I have a Masterlist of other such sexy drabbles, if you feel so inclined 👀🤭

#BringValkoBack 🐺💚✨

After the incident with the Drow at Moonrise yesterday, Astarion had confessed some deep feelings and troubles he'd had.

After he'd admitted his growing feelings for you, despite it starting out as a manipulation, he'd stated very plainly that he didn't want anyone to think of him in terms of sex but that he still wanted to be with you.

So, you'd suggested that you'd become friends first, instead of lovers. That you would still be together but wouldn't have sex until he was ready, if he ever would be.

He'd obviously joked and tried to lessen the mood with a flippant remark but you'd learned him well enough to see he was appreciative of the gesture.

You'd pulled him into a hug, and after his inital shock, he'd held on so tightly he had been reluctant to let go.

He'd offered his hand to hold yours and a silent bond was made between you.

You'd been thinking on this development between you this last day since your conversation together. Pondering on ways to make him more comfortable, to give him more autonomy within the relationship.

Astarion had been very sweet and attentive throughout the day. Like something had settled within him, like something had slotted into place.

He'd stuck very close by you, while carefully adventuring through the perilous Shadowlands.

During battle he'd taken a more protective and defensive role around you, instead of stealthy and offensive.

Several times throughout the day, he had slid his hand within yours and lightly squeezed - completely unprompted - just to feel the warmth of your skin.

He'd also spotted something that would be valuable to you in a fight and gifted it to you; you didn't ask how he'd gotten it, even though you could probably guess.

And now, it was time to settle down for the night, he'd dragged his bedroll to rest next to you. Producing a small potion from his pack, you assumed he was probably already hungry and needed to feed, hence your invitation, but you needed to discuss this first.

"I've been thinking, about what you said last night, about not thinking of you in terms of sex," you started, his face pulled into an unsure expression, "It's nothing bad, it's that I've been thinking about how you feed. It's quite, sexually charged. Especially the way you feed. It's urgent and rough and-"

"-Rough? I thought I was being gentle. You've not said anything since that first night. I-" He sounded hurt, afraid he'd been causing you pain. You hushed his worries.

"That's not what I meant, I'm not making an issue of it, I promise. It's not something to be sorry for, it hasn't bothered me until now. I thought it was all part and parcel of the experience; foreplay, if you will?" You shrugged.

"I mean, you'd feed, get hard and then we'd usually fuck. But now I believe we need to re-think our approach." You explained further.

"It's not that having sex wasn't out of desire for you. It's-it's complicated to explain," he signed with a furrowed brow, "I told you, that it's not that I'm not attracted to you, trust me," he smiled wickedly, you shook your head and went to speak but he cut across you to continue.

"You are wholly different to ones I've seduced before. This was of my own voilition, for one - although out of necessity as transactional protection but - things have changed. I've changed. You've made me see what I'm capable of. You've.." he paused, swallowing and looking around the vicinity for the right words.

"You've encouraged me. Had faith in me. Shown me kindness I've not felt in two centuries. I care for you in a way I thought impossible, but I don't know how to be with someone, without reliving the past.. But I desperately want this to be real, truly real." His claret eyes bore into yours, pleading and sad. You slowly raised your hand to cup the side of this face.

"This is real, just because it's not a sexual relationship, doesn't mean it's not real." You smiled, reassuring his doubts. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. Your heart squeezed as his cool cheek pressed further into the warmth.

"The act of a vampire feeding on someone has been made inherently sexual. It's been fetishised, and so in turn, has the whole vampire thing. Which works to the vamp's advantage. I can't blame the people for it. Being bitten, being fed on is an intoxicating experience." You couldn't help but shudder at the memories of you both pressed together.

"For me too," He breathed, his neck tensing, "The feeling of feeding has no match."

You smiled softly and sighed, "Like you said, 'There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire'." You both pursed your lips in bitter resignation.

"So, to remedy this, we need to unsexualise it going forward," you continued, "Before feeding was all teeth and rubbing up against each other like animals. Now, it's going to be slow and intimate. Not sexual intimacy, true intimacy." You flattened you palm to your heart, to help illustrate your point to him.

"It'll be different to the enemies you drain on the road, or in battle. It's you and me, and that's special. We need to make it special." You smoothed the cool touch of his cheek under your thumb.

He swallowed and sat up, intrigued, "What did you have in mind, my dear?"

You certainly had had some ideas.

"Well, you've tried both of the 'best' places to feed from; the jugular and the femoral," you announced, gesturing to your neck and inner thigh, "But I was thinking of the wrist? It's a pretty neutral place to feed from."

"Sounds reasonable. It's certainly a slower feed than the neck, or thigh." He agreed with a head tilt, "Although they are an awful lot of fun." He said through tilted gaze and a dangerous grin, his hand gliding up your thigh to caress it.

Your stomach flipped from habit, but you squashed it down.

"Stop it," you chastised him with a gentle nose boop. He scrunched his face and let out a small, high chuckle. His hand relented to your knee, thumbing the seam where he'd stitched a hole for you.

"Feeding will be more about taking the time to connect with each other, without sex. It'll be slow, patient.. calming." You let out a long, cleansing breath and blinked slowly, to emphasise the point.

"Very well, then. Henceforth, I shall drink from your wrist when you're resting." He gave a tilted nod.

"Um, no. I was going to suggest feeding before sleep. I'd like to be present with you. Truly present with you. Not groggy from sleep, or blissed from sex. I'd like to be with you."

He looked taken aback, but interested, "Alright then.. feeding before rest," he said, testing the idea on his tongue. He seemed to measure it acceptable before asking, "Could I.. request something of you.. while I feed?" He asked, his words measured.

"Of course, darling." You answered enthusiastically, glad for his input.

"Would you.. play with my hair?" He requested, a little sheepishly, "I-I find it. It's not a sexual thing, before I always hated it but.. when you do it-it's.. comforting to me. I-I don't know why."

Your heart swelled and your eyes began to gently fill at the surprisingly sweet request.

"Of course, I will." You smiled, blinking back unexpected tears.

Astarion smiled back and took a faux breath and huffed it out in expectation.

"So, shall we, my dear?" He flourished a hand for you to lie down.

"We shall," you nodded, "How do you wish to do this?"

"Lying down would be fine." He suggested.

"If that's what you'd like." You began unfolding your leg from the crossed position to stretch it before laying down.

"Wait.." he stopped, then looked up through curious eyes, "What about this?" He asked, as he gently laid the side of his head down on your thigh.

You beamed, "That's nice.. wait-" You scooched a little more, "Lay on your back."

He did as he was told and shuffled around so the back of his head lay fully on the cushioning meat of your crossed leg, the other extended alongside his body.

You gazed down at him laying contentedly in your lap, "How's that?" You asked.

He manoeuvred himself to rest more squarely, testing the feeling, which he seemed to agree with.

"Comfortable."

"Which wrist?" You offered both in the air.

"Wrap your arms around, and I'll feed from your non-dominant one."

You leaned down more, rounding your spine so you weren't sat so upright. You cradled his head with your arms and let your wrists hang loose.

Astarion took your hand and wriggled himself within your arm's embrace, then looked up and smiled at you. Your own broadened across your face.

"Is this alright?"

He nodded, paused then crooked a finger at you.

You bent down a little more and he brought his fingers to tenderly grasp your chin and pulled you in for a delicate kiss, barely anything in comparison to others you had, but filled with a warmth and softness that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you." He breathed, "For thinking of this, for respecting my wishes."

The breath was stolen from your lungs and your chest ached. You couldn't deny it any longer. You were in love with him.

You didn't reply, you simply pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Eat up."

He paused again, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. He took your hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply.

This was a little ritual he liked to do, like a fine wine; you have to smell the bouquet.

He chastely pecked several times at the thin blue lines on your inner wrist, before slowly sinking his fangs and drinking deeply.

The pain, while still present, was surprisingly minimal. Much less sharp than his usual snapping bite down on your neck, or inner thigh.

You rest your other arm on his chest, but quickly his other hand grasped your hand and placed it on his hair.

You grinned to yourself, "My mistake, sorry dear." You admonished yourself, giggling, while beginning to weave your fingers into his loose curls.

Astarion mumbled against your skin, something sassy no doubt, but it was hushed by the sensation of his hair being twisted between your deft fingers.

He moaned into your wrist but it wasn't with reverent pleasure, it was in contentment.. ease..

You stared down at the beautiful pale Elf laying in your lap, feeding gently on your life essence. His ears were lightly wiggling as he drank, latched onto skin.

You stifled a laugh, he was like a kitten nursing milk. It was too adorable. Of course, you'd never seen this angle to witness it before. It was beyond endearing.

He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, slowly drinking his fill of your blood. His body language relaxed, instead of poised to pounce. The pace of his pulls against your wrist laboured and suckling.

Seeing him like this, calm and steady, instead of scared and jittering, unlocked a compartment of your heart you'd fervently kept closed off from the world.

Gods, you loved him.

You loved him so much you ached.

Your heart physically panged to see him so blissfully unbothered and relaxed.

You smoothed his locks like petting a contented animal. You brushed his hair out of his face, and twirled it between your fingers, then wove fingertips under the length, to massage the base of his skull.

Each movement illiciting a gratified sigh, his body sinking lower and lower into your lap.

After a while, your head started to feel woozy and your extremities were starting to go cold and numb.

"Astarion?" You whispered, gently rubbing your hand on his chest and tapping twice with your peace fingers, "That's enough, love."

He stirred, dazed from feeding. He clamped his two fingers on the puncture marks, as you reached for the healing potion from his pack to pour over them. A small drizzle and the marks were healed.

You took a steading breath and swigged the rest down to help with restoration of blood before a spell from Shadowheart in the morning.

Stoppering the empty bottle and placing it on the ground, Astarion's weight still lay heavy on your lap.

His lips and teeth dyed the colour of you, as he smiled dopily, eyes remaining closed.

You sat with him in the moment, returning to weave his white curls between your fingers. The vague warmth of your blood coarsing through him transferring back to you through skin contact.

Astarion let out a serene and easy sigh, his eyes heavy as he tried to open them.

"That felt.. very different." He whispered, almost like he was breathless.

You kissed your fingers that waited on his chest and pressed them to his temple. He kissed the air back at you, body still heavy and exhausted.

"I don't know how to describe it. My body feels heavy, but light.."

The light pulse of your blood through his dead veins was present again under the pads of your fingers.

"I assume this new feeding technique is a success then, dove?" You inquired, keeping your voice low.

Astarion swallowed thickly, the stain of blood still on his teeth. He licked his lips lethargicly, "Most certainly. I feel.. completely.. utterly.. totally.."

"I hope the end of this sentence is a good one." You teased at his lack of composure.

He let out a sharp exhale of amusement through his nose, "It is.." he muttered.

You smoothed the line of his jaw, careful to not touch his sensitive ears. You smiled at the recent memory of them twitching as he fed.

"Did you know your ears wiggle up and down when you feed?" You asked in soft merriment.

"I did not.." he replied, flexing his eyebrows slowly.

"It's very cute."

"I am not cute." He tried to exert, with not much conviction, "I am a terrible creature of the night, feeding on helpless victims. I am a monster. I am not cute." He posited in feigned outrage.

You gazed down at the soft, tortured, beautiful soul in front of you and quickly blinked back the tears that swelled.

"No, you're not my love.. and I promise one day you'll see yourself the way I see you." You beamed at him.

Astarion squeezed your hand three times, you repeat it back. You take a shaking breath in and blow it out, smiling.

A different kind of intimacy.

•°•°•

You'd borrowed it from the Drow in Sharess' Caress. A deep, rich midnight blue variation with silver accents. It dipped in a low V and almost as high in the double thigh splits.

Practically nothing was left to the imagination in this piece, intentionally. You were the distraction, not the infiltration. The only thing that you would be climbing tonight, were the stairs to a ballroom.

Gale takes in the full length of you and swallows hard, his throat bobs and he flicks his tongue over his bottom lip; it was like he'd just seen a bookmark being used instead of folding down the page.

His arcane protection bubble flashes around him, and he shuffles uncomfortably.

"Uh, yes. I can feel-seel-see that very well." He confirms, failing to keep composure.

Good, you'd flustered him into some sort of pause on his tirade.

"Right, so by your Wizardly intelligence, do you think I'm wearing underwear at this moment?" You click your tongue around the 't' and tilted your head with an inquisitive pout.

Gale opens his mouth to retort but simply stares agog, rubbing his tongue over the back of his teeth.

"I would deduce.. not." He attempts a steady tone and fails miserably, transfixed by the revealing angles of your outfit.

He catches himself staring and corrects his gaze to something behind you on the dresser; his jaw and neck tense, palms squeezing tight, and a definite growing strain in his trousers.

An exciting but unexpected warmth pools in the pit of your stomach, buzzing across you like a thousand bees and collects between your scantily covered thighs.

You were about to make a sardonic quip about giving the person below quite a view while scaling the stone walls without underwear, but something stirred within you. Something hungry and impatient.

You'd always found Gale attractive. How could you not? His dark, long hair. His warm, chocolate and caramel eyes. The passion and playfulness behind his voice, the richness of the timbre.

It also didn't go against his favour that despite his Wizardly predelection, his body was positively sinful and demanded scandalously debauched fantasies about it.

You'd shared some glances and flirtatious quips, of course. But never anything substantial. Nothing physical.

Apart from that accidental kiss.

You had both chalked it up to him being lonely, and you seeking comfort. And although that was probably right, it didn't stop the fact that Gale Dekarios was a very handsome man.

It also didn't halt the fact, that you had unequivocally decided his dry spell was about to end.

You flick your tongue over the softness of your lips, "Would you like to make sure?" You ask, switching the situation with a dangerously dark tone.

If it was possible, Gale tenses even further. The now very telltale and mouth-watering bulge straining against his tightening trousers. The orb in his chest blooms a dull purple glow through his thin shirt.

You smirk, knowing the effect you were having, and push onto the ball of your arched foot, prowling your way forward.

Gale's breathing was shallow and shaking, his eyes desperately flitting from the deep slope of your breasts, the fullness of your hips and the desire in your eyes. Your eye contact remains fiercely locked on his, as you close the short gap between you.

Stopping in front of him, you feel the carnal need rippling off his body in warm waves. You jut your chin at him.

"You need to make sure you're completely correct. What answers aren't backed by physical evidence?" You purr, refusing to touch him just yet. An attempt to tease yourself, not just to delay his gratification.

He raises a hand, that unconsciously almost forms into a cupped grope but straightens, as he wordlessly moves towards your chest. His own glowing brighter in anticipation.

Gale licks his lips, heavy breaths hot on your skin. He gently lands his middle two fingertips on your breast bone and slowly drags them down, down, down towards your navel.

It feels like warm sparks of electricity streak his touch, your nipples harden and peak, as you gasp unintentionally.

You feel another hand glide up the meat of your thigh, and splay under the high seam of the dress, shooting zapping energy through your crotch. He thumbs the light crease of your pelvis, his fingers gripping hard against your ass. Your pussy twinges and flexes around the ghost of his length inside you.

You let out a throaty moan and bite your lip, leaning your head back slightly.

"I didn't mean with your hands." You stare back at him, almost losing the breath in your lungs at his heavily lust lidded eyes.

"Yes, Madam." He groaned with an irked, determined brow. His whiskey and barrel coloured eyes burned with hunger, as he pushes you roughly backwards and immediately drops to his knees.

Gripping the long, draping fabric of your dress roughly and pushing it to the side, he buries his face between the folds of your soaked pussy, with a noise of sheer hedonism.

You cry out in shocked pleasure as he instantly gets to work, his tongue flutters over your clit with practiced precision.

Falling against the dressing table, you grip it tightly, digging your nails in the pliant wood.

A loud, rough moan shoots from your throat as he adjusts himself to the more stable position and laps at your hole, nose pressed against your sensitive spot.

"Oh, dear fucking gods, Gale!" You moan, reeling from the speed of his candor and skill.

Your hand flies to fist his long hair, whining as you press him harder against your core. His desperate whimpering moans muffled though your lips, as he picks up speed and fervour.

"Oh, the gods cursed wonders, you taste so good." He growls against you, vibrating as he shakes his head between your thighs.

'A practised tongue' was how he'd described it one night around the campfire. Gods above and below; the Wizard had not been exaggerating his talent.

He glides a flat tongue up the length of your wetness as two fingers tease your soaking entrance, peddling against your engorged sex.

"Ohh, fuck, yess.. please." You whimper, holding on for dear life. Your hips rolling, earnestly craving more friction against his delicious mouth.

You keen through a bitten lip, as two perfectly poised fingers plunge inside your warmth, slow at first but soon pick up pace, pressing against the pleasure at your centre.

You eek out a strangled cry, arching your back and wantonly spreading your legs for him more. He pushes you onto the make-up dresser proper, angling your pussy to allow him to openly feast on you from the floor.

The orb in his chest now an amethyst beacon of his fervour and hunger, radiating you in his feverish glow.

He hooks one leg onto his shoulder, draping your dress over it, all the while never missing a beat of his ministrations against your swollen clit.

The perfect pace, the precise rhythm, the feeling of his skillful tongue and especially the prior knowledge that he truly loves eating pussy, was enough to tip you over the edge.

Your body seizes, straining as you helplessly gasp against the futility of denying the devastating orgasm about to rock through your soul.

One hand wraps around your thigh, the other dexterously filling your cunt, pumping with the perfect amount of force. The pleasure tightens around your hips and low in your belly.

His soft mouth and practiced tongue licks, sucks, teases and worships your clit. The tandem stimulation building together to create a glorious symphony of exorbitant and exquisite elation gripping your body, flushing your skin, puckering your nipples and slackening your jaw in hedonistic abandon.

Your toes curl, your body tenses, your back arches and fists hold on for dear life, before losing the ability to breathe.

He holds you on the precipice of orgasm, denying your fulfillment.

You gasp shakily and shoot your gaze through the valley of your heaving breasts to see the honeyed bark of his irises staring up at you with an air of purest desire, aching hunger and ultimate, delirious satisfaction of eating out your cunt till you cum hot and messy, all over his pristinely manicured beard.

The sight of him, bathed in the violet blaze of his ravenous chest, needy and desperate to see you cum all over his mouth and chin, tips you over the already crumbling edge.

Your thighs shudder uncontrollably in his grasp as your orgasm hits you, like slamming into an oncoming Thunderwave. Your eyes roll up in the explosion of ecstasy roiling in great swells, radiating to all the untouched places of you that so want to be discovered.

Shamelessly crying out incoherent praise on his name, your body bucks against his sinful mouth, shaking the dresser underneath you; as Gale clamps his grip on your thigh, holding you in place. Your own slaps down on his and squeezes, the other still fisting his brown and grey streaked locks.

Without warning his tongue's efforts re-double, practically vibrating against your clit. His fingers pumping and stroking at disgusting speed inside you.

"Gale!" You exclaim, tears forming in your eyes as another orgasm surges forward, quaking the mewling whine of his name in excruciating bliss. Your walls clenching zealously around his fingers curling at your centre, the hot feeling of cum leaking out of your twitching hole.

Deep, lustful groans resonate through his muscular chest, as he rides the waves of your orgasm; undulating his neck and head to greedily lave your well-earned spend down his throat.

He never ceases, guiding you through the fierce storm with ravenous tongue and adroit digits. Overstimulation just barely out of reach, as he sweetly and expertly brings you back to this plane.

The aftershocks tremble your legs and cause your core to twitch. Your head lolls side to side against the mirror behind you and eventually back to look down at him.

He's covered in your release, smiling like a cat that got the whole jug of cream.

"A 'practised tongue', Gale." You sigh out a rough whine breathlessly, "Fucking understatement of the century." The tone was accusing but the breathlessness spoke of undiluted satisfaction.

You felt his deep chuckle against your skin before you heard it through the ringing in your ears.

"Well, I did warn you." You could hear the delirious smile in his voice, "Oh gods, I've missed that. That was incredible." He mumbles against your skin, expression blissed out.

"Yes, it was.. ohmyfuckinggods.." You moaned, chest still heaving; reeling from the double whammy you'd just received from the party bookworm.

"You look so beautiful like this, dear Gods," He groaned through a bitten lip, "I could stay here forever feasting on this delicious pussy." He presses kisses in the valleys between your folds and your inner thighs, "Mm, can I? We're not imperative to tonight's plan, are we?" He teases through pressed lips and hot tongue, knowing full well that; yes, you were.

But that wasn't for another hour.

"Oh, Gale sweetheart, we aren't going anywhere yet," you giggle low and bite your bottom lip, looking down at the disheveled, grinning, still glowing Wizard between your soaked and trembling legs, with raw lust. "You see, I didn't mean with your mouth either."

•°•°•

Need more? I don't blame you. Here's Part 2