+- Court of the Fallen (https://cotf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: Out of Character (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=26)
+--- Forum: Important (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27)
+---- Forum: Archives (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=38)
+---- Thread: someday soon this dust's gonna settle (/showthread.php?tid=11922)
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Vesper - 09-14-2025
She’s firelight and summer dusk, a blaze with no smoke, no warning. He’s seen her bloodied and brilliant, sharp-tongued and swaggering, but nothing compares to this: Colt undone, moon-bathed and sweat-slick, clinging to him like she’d burn for it gladly. Hair haloed in gold, lashes spiked and damp, cheekbones streaked with pleasure’s heat. Her lips—always captivating, always smirking—are bruised and parted, voice gone ragged on his name. Vesper’s jaw clenches like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
Moonlight knives through the sky as his knees hit the grass, her weight still locked to his hips, his shadows slithering away into the brush. Everything else disappears. Just her body. Just the pulse of her wrapped around him, every beat in her core like a ringing bell meant for him to follow deeper. He leans forward, reverent and hungry all at once, and laces their fingers together, lifting her arms above her head. Stretching her out like a song he wants to learn by heart. Her chest lifts, moon-pale and flushed with heat, torso gleaming with sweat like gold leaf across marble. And gods, the way her knees press in tight to her chest, it opens her up for him like a gift, and his body responds with the violence of devotion.
Still inside her—never having left, never fucking able to—he shifts his hips and sinks deeper. Inch by aching inch, the new angle lets him press so far into her he feels her whole body tremble around him. His grip crushes down on her hands, pinning her wrists into the grass as a shattered moan tears free. [say]"Colt,"[/say] he gasps, her name falling from his mouth like a curse and a plea all at once. [say]"Gods, you—"[/say] but the words disintegrate as he drives into her again, hips snapping with barely-contained force. [say]"You feel so—fuck—so good."[/say]
He chokes, panting against the crook of her throat. Each thrust is punishment for every second he’d denied himself this. The stars feel too close, her skin too hot, and still it isn’t enough. He wants to fuck her through the moonrise and into dawn. Wants her trembling in the dirt with his name still etched into her thighs and her breath still caught in his mouth.
And fuck the blankets. Fuck the brownies. He’ll make her come so hard she forgets what sugar tastes like.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Colt - 09-14-2025
The ground is cold against her back, never fully warmed by the Leafchange sun, but she hardly notices—every nerve is too busy burning for him. When his fingers spill into hers, stretching and pinning her into something he could ravish wholly, it's all she can do to curl her nails into the strain of his knuckles as another part of her catches on him until it's all a roar. Not usually the sort to dip into kerosene and hand someone else the matches, for him she feels like she could surrender everything, wants to even.
With her whole body strung tight, baring herself wide open for him, she's begging him to take every last part of her. Gods help her, he does just that.
Her inhale is sharp, difficult to manage something as basic as breath when every part of her is clenching around the steady fill of him. Wanting him had been an ache, but having him strips everything from her until she's raw, dependent on every thrust as if that's her pulse. At the torn sound of her name, her gaze flutters up through her lashes, hazy with heat. It's liquid now, her stare, long since melted, and it washes over constellations beading with sweat and the sharp blue of a man in a rare state. It makes her greedy for more, eager to keep him this wild, just as tangled up as she is.
[say]“Ves—don’t stop—never stop—”[/say] she rasps, body arching under him. She's clinging, offering, every part of her chasing him like it's survival. Her hips rock up to meet him, frantic and shameless, chasing each punishing snap like she’ll perish without another. Each time he drives into her, deep enough that it rattles her marrow, a moan tears out of her, near hyperventilating with the exclamations of his name that she lets slip into the stars like they're to blame for how good this feels.
He's building something viciously delightful in her, everything else starting to blur, even him now. She's a heaving, screaming thing beneath him, the tension of this flaring pleasure like the last bit of wood setting ablaze, the entire house about to burn down.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Vesper - 09-17-2025
The cold bite of the grass doesn’t register, not when she’s burning around him, slick heat gripping his cock so tight it borders on brutal. Her fingers are pressed into his, nails digging like she’s trying to mark his bones. He holds her there, wrists pinned against the field like it might anchor him, like he wouldn’t lose himself entirely if he let go.
She looks obscene like this. Long, lean, stretched beneath him like a battlefield he’s fucking his way through. Her braid’s a mess beneath her skull, her legs bent tight to her chest, the angle sharp and perfect for the way he’s buried so deep inside her he swears he can feel her heartbeat in the shaft of his cock. He grits his teeth. Tries to keep his voice. Fails. [say]"Fuck, Colt—"[/say]
It spills like gravel in his throat, voice snapping in half with the effort of restraint. She’s so loud for him, writhing and panting and screaming his name like he’s the god of this field and her body the only altar that matters. And every sound she makes lights a fire up the backs of his legs, racing through his spine and coiling hot behind his eyes. He wants more of it. All of it. Wants to fuck her until her voice is raw and her mind is blank and the stars can hear how good its all felt.
Without letting go of her wrists, his shadows flood around them, tendrils thick and black as sin curling around her waist to slam her hips back into his with each thrust. Another slips down, sinuous and eager, pressing tight between her thighs to grind hard against her clit in time with his rhythm.
He moans loud into the crook of her neck, growling her name like it’s being ripped out of him, her pleasure bleeding straight into his mind. Fucking hell, the way she feels—so greedy, so wrecked already—it’s shorting him out, fucking him from the inside too.
Vesper drives into her harder. No hesitation, no pacing left. Just the sound of skin on skin and her back bucking off the grass, her hips slamming back to meet him like she’d die if he stopped. [say]"Go on,"[/say] he snarls low in her ear, voice cracked and vicious. [say]"Cum for me again."[/say]
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Colt - 09-18-2025
He doesn't have to say it, not when he's already teasing it out of her with every knock of their bodies, each smoldering temptation of him fed relentlessly by his deep fit. Never content with anything less than dragging her into sweet oblivion though, his darkness nearly pulls her under with the first slide of their depravity. Her body is primed to respond to his shadows, already anticipating the familiar satisfaction they bring, causing a sudden and intense shock of pleasure that spears through her the moment they join. Her body hitches beneath him, fingers clutching his tighter, head tilting back with the force of the moan that exits as every piece of her ignites.
It's enough to send her over time and again—his twilight hands slamming her hips onto his cock, driving the forceful heat of him against her even further, while another grinds against her clit until she's practically sparking with ecstasy. She fights it though, gods she's hanging on by the skin of her teeth, whimpering as she rides through each rapturing jolt, because she doesn't want to give it up. The way he touches her, the feel of him, it's too irresistible.
He doesn't have to say it, but he does. His voice claws through her, rough and commanding in her ear, and it’s the last thing she can hold against. She breaks before the hum of his words have fully faded.
A cry rips out, jagged and raw, as her whole body tenses. Wrists strain against his grip as she shudders beneath him, helpless to the violent quake of her own body. Her climax hits swift and brutal, spasms clenching around him, her body intent on devouring him whole.
The field is just a spin of darkness and silver, stars smudging against the backdrop of the night. All she knows is him—the punishing stretch of him inside her, the devilish grip of his personal dusk locking her in bliss, the snarl of her name still set into her ear. She gasps for him like air, every sound torn from her heaving chest a splinter of worship and need as she burns to the ground around him.
[say]“Ves—oh fuck, Vesper—”[/say] his name spills savagely from her lips, over and over, until there’s no space left between one wrecked groan and the next, until she’s nothing but the ruin he’s branded into her.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Vesper - 09-20-2025
The wildfire in Colt's thoughts rips straight through him, searing heat behind his eyes, too bright to shut out. It’s not just her voice gasping his name into the dark, it’s the raw need in her mind, the buckling ache of want and overload crashing over every nerve like she’s detonation-bound. Her climax isn’t a whisper of pleasure, it’s a fucking scream inside his skull, and it swallows him whole.
Vesper’s shadows surge, clutching her hips in time with the slam of his own, greedy hands of dusk yanking her tighter against him as if he can anchor himself there, as if maybe he won’t be taken under too. But he is.
His orgasm shatters through him like a whipcrack, the kind that flays straight through his spine, curling his toes into the dirt, his jaw snapping shut on a guttural curse that fizzles out into a hoarse, [say]"Colt—"[/say] instead. It’s all he can manage, her name torn from him like it’s the only thing that ever existed.
He jerks once, twice, burying himself as deep as her body will take him while the last spasms of his release pulse hot and reckless inside her. Gods, he’s shaking, the fire of it still flaring in his chest, his hands, his fucking knees. One hand stays laced tight in hers, but the other slips free to replace his own shadow at her hip like he’s claiming it back. And then his head drops to her chest. Not a gesture of affection necessarily, just survival. Just the fight to breathe as the stars spin too fast above them and her mind still echoes in his, ringing with the aftershocks of everything she gave him. His breath comes hot against her skin, sharp and ragged as if he’s just outrun something massive, and maybe he has. Maybe it was her.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Colt - 09-20-2025
She's nothing if not malleable beneath him, tilting and tipping to every grasp he requires, melting around him as she folds his release into her bliss too. Greedy, even at the end, her body doesn't let go until he does. Even when one of her hands is freed, it lingers where he left it, overall too wrecked to do anything but sink fully and deeply into the field in her best impression of a cast off silk garment. Only her legs dare to move, spilling down from her chest, weak as a fresh filly as they slide and tremble along either side of him. Every part of her that had been clenched finally surrenders into the calm and the release, a euphoria all it's own.
The world starts to crawl back in, feeling far too wide after only knowing him, and the nighttime silence it brings is too quiet after all their noise. Cold seeps in slow but steady through the sweat cooling on her skin, not enough to bother yet, but a presence that slides into the absence of the heat. Beneath his head, her thundering heartrate and rapid breaths wander their way back to normal, little by little. A low, shaky laugh slips free, cocked with disbelief more than amusement.
[say]“You’ll be the death of me,”[/say] she mutters, her voice broken and soft, nothing left of her usual bite. That she has any part to play in this she can't fathom—she might have burned, but he's the firestarter. She attempts to glance down her chest at him, but the effort is too much and she gives up, head flopping to the other side with a twitch of her fingers. [say]"Not even sure we'll make it to bed, might just have to sleep out here."[/say] Which, given the amount of places outside she has slept with him, would not be so unusual, but naked in leafchange would be a first.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Vesper - 09-20-2025
Sensation returns slowly, like surf retreating after a violent wave; the throb in his thighs, the burn in his knees from the grass, the wet heat still clinging where their bodies pressed too close for too long. The grip at her hip has slackened, but his fingers remain tangled in hers for a few extra seconds, a stubborn anchor he doesn’t release until his lungs settle.
Eventually, with the same kind of ragged will he might apply to dragging himself up a cliff, Vesper shifts. Lifts just enough to ease the weight on her, allowing her legs to unfurl, though the bow of his spine stays curved over her like he hasn’t quite convinced himself he’s done yet. He hisses a quiet breath through his teeth as he finally draws back—slow, aching, reluctant—before collapsing boneless into the grass beside her.
The cold bites sharper now, Leafchange creeping in around their slick, used bodies. But the stars are still above them, the night wide and smug, and she’s still beside him, loose and panting and half-laughing like she’s been struck by lightning. He turns his head toward her, curls falling across his brow, blue eyes dark with satisfaction and something a little smug. [say]"Pretty sure I can get us both inside,"[/say] he says, voice still rough, dry with humour. [say]"Eventually."[/say]
His gaze flicks past her shoulder to the nearby flicker of moonlight on scaly silver. The snakeskin he'd brought out with him, spread half-forgotten in the grass like it might still matter. He shrugs one shoulder, all mock-apology and drawling ease. [say]"Had to bring it out here, after all."[/say] His smile twitches wider, unrepentant. [say]"Couldn't take the risk of doin' it later and then gettin' distracted and stayin' inside,"[/say] he says with a lazy smirk as if he hadn’t planned to put her on her back in the grass from the second she let that first moan slip between her teeth.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Colt - 09-21-2025
As he slides off onto the ground beside her, a fresh wave of chill washes over her, air rushing in where it'd just been the press of his skin. It sends a shiver through her, goosebumps rippling up her legs and arms. Her head turns with him, gaze catching on the messy tumble of his hair and drifting to the shadow of his nose, to the flicker of starlit freckles over his cheeks and the way they shift to yield for his smirk. He looks good, like this—silvered from the moonlight and glowing a bit, the way someone pleased with themselves always does. He looks softer than usual, something she's only noticed occasionally and in fleeting moments, but this one lingers longer. Maybe it's her that's softer. Could be both. Either way, for just a quick moment, she thinks she could do more of this, with him—be soft. Dinners and homes and something more than just fire in a field. The thought doesn't linger long enough to take root, barely enough to register, and then it vanishes with a sigh.
At his confidence of getting them back inside, one of her arms flops over her eyes and a small groan rises at his words. The idea of moving is currently unbearable, even if she's just being gathered up, the idea of eventually sounding far worse than never. [say]"You planning on turning us into mist again?"[/say] Her question is tinged with some hesitancy, because while she'd never outright admit it, that gave her belly flops more than a fresh and hot three-year-old does. [say]"What if we come out of it and our legs have switched bodies? Or I got your ear coming out of my shoulder?"[/say] She peeks back at him from under her arm, smiling like it's a joke, but she's half-serious. Has he tested this magic extensively?
Her hair shifts as her head turns back the other way towards what he means, her arm sinking back to her side. The skin rests a bit away, seemingly innocent. [say]"Sure, sure,"[/say] she concedes too smoothly, gaze trailing straight up to the night sky with the slow curl of a doubtful smile. [say]"Has nothing to do with you liking to put on a show for the stars I bet,"[/say] which given it's two for two now, is sounding like there's some truth to it. [say]"I'm guessing you didn't like whenever you couldn't see while you were up there so you're making sure that's not the case for anyone else,"[/say] she teases as she glances back at him, not seeming to mind the idea much, even if his mother is one such set of eyes, a thought she very much doesn't want to dwell on thank you.
[say]"Alright,"[/say] she starts after a pause. She shifts onto her side more, making it easier to look at him, one arm folding under her head. [say]"Tell me what your dream is."[/say] With the world wide and still around them, and the topic from earlier still on her mind, she wonders more and more about this man demigod that's so thoroughly caught inside her chest. [say]"Everyone's got a dream."[/say]
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Vesper - 09-21-2025
Vesper huffs out a low breath of amusement, the sound warm and quiet between them. [say]"Didn’t figure you for the overly cautious type,"[/say] he drawls, head still heavy in the grass, eyes slanted sideways toward her. [say]"But hey, if you wanna hobble barefoot across all the burrs an’ brambles Leafchange’s got to offer, I’ll follow. Just don’t whine to me when it bites back."[/say]
He doesn’t miss the flicker in Colt's smile, the half-joke of it, the ripple of uncertainty just beneath. Nor the way her thoughts snag briefly on his mother—, something he politely sidesteps in silence. Her next comment gets a sharper laugh, the sound curling warm as smoke in his chest. [say]"You really think a roof’s gonna keep the stars from watchin’?"[/say] he muses, brow lifting with mock incredulity. [say]"Darlin’, if they wanna look, there ain’t a door in the world that’ll keep ‘em out."[/say]
When she shifts onto her side, his gaze drinks her in with languid approval. Moonlight coats her skin in pale silver, softening muscle and sharpness alike, leaving her looking like something sculpted in secret and offered up only to the night. The splay of her hair in the grass like wildfire gone still; the glint of sweat across her collarbone and the faint rise and fall of her chest. She’s all open edges and spent heat, golden turned to silver now, and he lets himself admire the whole damn sight with a slow, pleased drag of his gaze.
But her question cuts in quiet, and it lingers. The words alone are vague, but the way her mind wraps around them, the weight of what’s not said, paints the shape of it clear enough. He exhales, something closer to a sigh than a laugh this time, and rakes a hand through his damp hair before finally rolling onto his back. The sky yawns above them, deep and uncaring, full of stars that don’t blink. [say]"Ain’t really for people like me to have a dream,"[/say] he says eventually, voice rougher now, stripped of play.
His cheek rests in the grass as he turns to look at her again, blue eyes sharp even in the dark. [say]"Plenty of kids got expectations hung ‘round their necks,"[/say] he adds, tone wry. [say]"But mine ain't the kind you can outrun. I was brought into this world for a reason."[/say] His gaze holds hers, steady and unflinching. There’s no bitterness in it, only matter-of-fact weight, something cold and quiet and worn smooth. He lets his eyes trace the curve of her bare shoulder, the slow, steady rise of her breathing, then shrugs one more time. [say]"Ain’t sure dreams are for men like me."[/say] His voice softens, just a touch, like a flicker of warmth through a crack in the dark. [say]"What about you?"[/say] he murmurs, eyes still on her.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Colt - 09-21-2025
Well, if he's gonna say that, now she has to prove him wrong, show him that she isn't worried about teleporting through the space between space as a little cloud of mist and dusk, like it's a completely ordinary affair to be reduced to nothing more than motes of shadow and light for the blink it takes. [say]"I'm not,"[/say] she scoffs, the offense only surface level. [say]"And I wouldn't."[/say] She absolutely would have if he hadn't said something,—and the reminder of all the dead things scattered over the ground, the ones she’s always pulling out of dog paws, is nearly as good a reason as obstinacy for choosing his method. Normally she wouldn’t be out here barefoot without shoes close by; she learned that lesson well before tonight. [say]"Misty express it is,"[/say] she declares with a narrow gaze, just for a beat, because somehow it still feels like he won that even though he left it her choice.
There goes that idea. He's just an outdoorsman at heart then, it'd seem. [say]"Not even a little clearer?"[/say] she asks with her own 'brow raise, like she can't quite believe that there's not the difference of glass and fog when a roof is inbetween. She glances up at the stars again, skeptical, because it certainly makes sense that if she can see them better out here they can see her better, but she should probably trust the only one of them who's actually been there. She's not prone to giving in though, even when it's in her best interest. [say]"Sounds like a voyer's dream,"[/say] she deflects instead, and absolutely leaves a glance on him that implies he might be one such culprit.
The quiet that spills over him surprises her. Normally dreams fill up hearts and minds with noise, and it doesn't always make sense, but it's something alive and unapologetically loud about its existence. They can be small or grand, sensible or impossible, and there's a countless amount of them to be had. She can't really believe that he doesn't have one, but she can understand being hesitant to share it. Dreams can be secret too, those ones only finding volume in the right moment, or with the right company. She listens though, to what he does tell her, to the way he's rigid with the heaviness of expectations instead of wants. A touch of a frown comes in, a flicker of disagreement on behalf of him. [say]"Seems to me you're the exact type of person who should have a dream,"[/say] she murmurs, because the idea of him being nothing more than the result of a mold sounds unbearable. He's more than just what was imagined, she's certain. [say]"Besides, dreams are for anyone and everyone."[/say]
She's not sure where to draw a boundary on this. She'd like to push him on it, prove him wrong here and now. Though, the last thing she wants to do is put more pressure on him when he's already being stifled by it, and gods know she's accidentally pushed him a time or two already. In his shoes, she'd not handle any more prodding well, so would it really be for his sake, or for hers? She exhales quietly, releasing the words brewing in her mind. Another time, perhaps. Just seemed he had some sort of dream, for the demi-gods, but maybe that's less a dream and more a pain point he wishes would be removed with some accountability and sense.
She hums for a minute, as if in thought, even if her dream is already fighting to break free in the tilt of her smile and the glint in her eyes. It's something daring and a little silly and entirely useless to anyone but her. [say]"I wanna tame a pegasus one day."[/say] She drops it quickly, like explaining it too much might alter the shape of it. She bites a bit at the edge of her lower lip, holding his gaze steady, waiting a bit to see if he laughs or clearly tries to hide one.
[say]"I hear there's some in the Draig,"[/say] she goes on to explain, like there's some reality to be found here. That's the first major obstacle to her achieving this. [say]"I don't entirely know how to tame something that can fly away,"[/say] she admits, slow with this other obstacle, a bit of a weight on the idea. [say]"But, I saw a guy ride one once, when I was real little."[/say] Small enough it might have been misremembered by now, warped the way memories tend to do when you revisit them too often or they get too old. It might have been artwork, or a book, or a bed time story that she got in her head as being true, but that's why it's just a dream and not her life's work. She's sensible enough not to lose her mind to the idea, but in moments like this, it brightens things, and it feels like it could be possible if everything lines up perfect.
RE: someday soon this dust's gonna settle - Vesper - 09-23-2025
Vesper hums, brows lifted in dry amusement as she rallies against the accusation. [say]"Misty express,"[/say] he repeats, the words ghosted through a half-laugh, shaking his head as though he’s lost a bet he hadn’t known he’d made. [say]"Reckon I’ll have to start charg—"[/say] but he doesn’t finish it, just lets the idea fizzle as her look sharpens. Smart of her to pick him over the path, though he doesn’t press that particular point.
At her crack about voyeurs, his brows rise higher still, unrepentant. [say]"Doors ‘n roofs don’t do much against it,"[/say] he says, all lazy certainty, like it’s a thing he knows in his bones. [say]"Mort’s realm’s...different, I expect. I don’t think they get a front row seat every time you take your shirt off. But up there?"[/say] His voice dips as his gaze sweeps openly down the length of her again, dragging heat in its wake in response to the look she gives him. [say]"I don’t mind watchin’."[/say] That half-smirk of his is slow and sharp, and there’s not a trace of guilt in it.
But when dreams get brought into it, the tone shifts, and though Colt’s voice stays soft, her words slip under his skin, draw his gaze sidelong to her. There’s no rebuttal from him this time. Just a faint exhale, a roll of his shoulder, and a vague, [say]"Guess I’ll get right on that,"[/say] tossed out like smoke meant to hide the shape of something deeper, or perhaps something not there at all.
Still, her dream catches him. [say]"A pegasus, huh?"[/say] His voice lifts with interest, not mockery, and the grin that curls across his mouth is crooked and warm. [say]"Pretty sure Sunjata can shift into one,"[/say] he drawls, head tipping to the side as though seriously considering it. [say]"Could always try practicin’ tamin' and ridin' him first."[/say] He lets that hang just long enough to see if she’ll punch him before softening his tone, her sincerity bleeding into him through her thoughts, through the glint of something bright that still dares to rise in her. [say]"Maybe one day we can head up there,"[/say] he murmurs, [say]"see if we can spot any for you."[/say]
And that’s the moment he forces himself upright, groaning quietly as his spine stretches with a crack and a breath. Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes her a grin like they haven’t just wrecked each other in the grass. [say]"Come on,"[/say] he says, rising to a crouch and brushing a few crushed blades from his palm. The snakeskin stays where it is, catching moonlight like spilled silver, abandoned but intentional.
He reaches for her hand, shadows curling to meet his call, and the next breath they take is swallowed by mist. A blink, and they’re inside her kitchen again, with Colt perched on the cool counter, right where it'd all begun.
~FIN