From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
That's where he's got it wrong. He is something different to her. Special. This relationship is nothing like the others she has with her clients. It can be hard to remember sometimes. Hard to fathom how it can mean anything when her job is to sell a fantasy that they're living together, but at the end of the day, Locke is the one taking care of her. He's the one tending to her wounds, cooking her meals, listening to her day, and holding her close at night. He sees every part of her. Not just the role she plays at the Halenani. Maeve would remind him of this if she knew that's what was running through his mind, but as it stands, she's a touch busy.
Maeve doesn't stop. Nor does she slow down. Instead she draws in shallow breaths trough her nose, pressing deeper even as he eases the grip he has on her hair, moaning around him in response. It's all the answer he really gets before she's drawing back almost to the tip and swallowing him down all over again. The hand resting at his hip dips in, fingertips pressing into flesh as she urges him to move, encouraging him to fall apart for her. He's not the only one with plans and this is the first thing on her list.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
She seems to catch his drift and continues on. Which makes his toes tingle because he has more ideas, things he's never gotten to try before. Her fingers dig into his hip and he wonders if it'll leave a bruise. A low moan falls from his lips as his fingers tangle back in her hair, hips stuttering slightly before he falls apart. He keeps his grip loose until he's done before he's pulling her up to kiss her. He's always wanted to do this but the no kissing thing, you know? His tongue presses into her mouth, probing for some taste of himself and her all mixed together.
He pulls away only when his chest burns, burying his face in her neck as his hand slips back into her pants. "Guess it's only fair if I return the favor, yeah?" It's purred softly against her neck, tongue trailing along the bite he left earlier. It's amazing what a little orgasm will do for being all up in your head about shit, isn't it? "As if I need an excuse to taste you.." Maeve always seems to have a good time with it.
Maeve makes a soft noise as the warmth of his release spreads over her tongue and she swallows it all down, panting as she pulls back, his fingers still in her hair as he gently guides her up. She lets him urge her to her feet, keeping the weight off of her still sore ankle, bracing her back against the tree. The kiss surprises her as he presses closer, crowding her against the trunk of the tree, tongue licking into her mouth and tasting himself there. Maeve moans into the kiss, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, the tips of her fingers slipping into his hair to keep him close. When he breaks the kiss, Maeve is panting, drinking in greedy sips of air as she lets out a shaky breath and smiles softly up at him. Her cheeks are flushed, chest heaving as her heart pounds, pulse echoing in her ears as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes.
It only lasts for a moment before he's burying his face against her throat, licking a stripe over the bite he's left behind and her thundering pulse, making her shiver and arch against him. He's softer now, sinking into something sweeter than before, drawing both of them into a familiar comfort and a gentler heat. Maeve hums, eyes fluttering shut as her head rests against the tree, hair catching on the bark as his fingers slip back beneath the waistband of her pants. "Please.. I want you your mouth." She murmurs back, turning to catch his lips in another kiss, nipping softly at his bottom lip.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
He grins against the kiss, humming softly. He missed this. He needed this. "Don't worry Kitten, I'll take care of you. Always do." His voice is a purr as he presses his fingers against her. He finds her clit again, curling the bud with something akin to reverence. He'll get to properly worship her in a minute though. He presses a kiss to her jaw before untangling himself. Locke fixes his pants before holding his hand out to her. The goal is to get in the tent so he can properly spread her out. As much fun as eating her out against the tree would be, her ankle is hurt and he doesn't want her on it any longer than she has to be.
"Or do I need to carry you again?" He almost wishes they were in an Inn or something. He hasn't ever gotten a chance to throw her on a bed and frankly, that's a sin. A lot of things they haven't done are sins. (And a lot of them are. Actually, most of them.)
They both did. They needed this. His words aren't just in regards to this. Yes, he does take care of her. Always. Even when she doesn't feel like she deserves it. Even when she truly doesn't deserve it. Maeve sighs against his lips, eyes fluttering shut as the tips of his fingers finally press against her clit, circling it lightly and yet her legs tremble. Just as she starts to sink into the warmth he's building up in her belly, he pulls away, leaving her wanting all over again. Maeve growls in frustration, watching him button up his pants and draw back from her, but his hand reaches out to her. She reaches for it, tangling their fingers together as she carefully shifts her weight off of her ankle, taking a small step forward. "No, I can manage."
And she does. It's still with a limp, but slowly with his help, she makes it. Maeve crawls into the tent first, finding a resting place on the makeshift nest he's made for them inside. It's cozy and cool, shading them from the sun, hiding them away from the outside world. She braces herself against her elbows, bottom lip caught between her lip as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes, chest heaving as she greedily takes sips of air in an attempt to slow her racing heart.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
He has to help her to the tent but she manages most of it herself. Some proper rest and the wrap will help. Not that it's really on his mind, not with the way she's looking up at him. The tent isn't tall enough for him to stand in but he can kneel. He shrugs off the rest of his clothes before crawling over her, lips dragging along her neck. His hands slip under her shirt, tugging it up and off before he pulls off her boots and pants. There's just a thin strip of fabric between them and for a moment he thinks about leaving it.
But he doesn't because frankly it's just going to be in the way. He takes a moment to look her over before leaning down to lick that pesky trail of sweat that keeps making it's way down her chest. "Have I ever told you how much I love your tits?" He's pretty sure he has at least once or twice. Maybe. Clearly not enough. He kisses a little path between them, stopping to punctuate it with bites. He's still feeling a little possessive, okay?
Maeve licks her lips, eyes tracing down his body, taking in his torso and the cut muscle of his abdomen. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, heat swirling in her belly as his fingers work the front of his pants, kicking them off along with his boots. She falls back as he crawls over her, pressing her into the makeshift bed, fingers greedily slipping beneath her tank top to tug it over her head. It's quickly discarded followed by her boots and pants, leaving her almost bare before him, but he doesn't stop there as he tugs her panties down her legs too. He's everywhere. Tongue, lips, hands, and skin pressing against every inch of her, committing her body to memory.
A breathy laugh pushes past her lips at his question and she barely manages a nod, eyes fluttering shut as he lavishes attention on her chest, teeth leaving his signature on her skin. "A time or two. What else do you love about me?" Maeve purrs, fingers tracing along his arms, mapping a trail over his back as one hand slips into his hair and the other rests lightly at his shoulder. "Dis-moi, mon amour. Je te promets que je garderai ton secret." She coos, enticing him to give in, to share what it is he enjoys about her. Maeve will be more than happy to return the favor. If he's willing to play her game.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
Her request earns a little growl from him, a thousand thoughts swirling through his mind before he finally settles on something cohesive. "Love your ass.." One hand slips under her, squeezing lightly as he punctuates his sentence with a fresh bite. "Love the way you moan my name." Another bite just under her breast. "I love the way your nose wrinkles when you sneeze. I love the way your skin feels against mine. I love it when you play with my hair." Each only paused by another bite as he works his way down her body.
"I love the way you take care of me." Locke lingers where he is for a moment, tongue running along the jut of her hip as he looks up at her. "Love that you let me take care of you." He shifts his weight, pushing himself between her legs and sinking down on to his belly. "Love the way you taste too.." Not that he tastes her yet, the goal is to get her riled up, to keep her on edge until he gets what he wants. He doesn't know what he wants though.
His words are pressed into her skin, teeth punctuating each sentence just to drive his point home, leaving the reminders with imprints in her skin. Maeve sighs, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she relaxes into it, enjoying the sparks of pleasure cut by pain. Her whole body is singing for him, arching and twisting in a vain attempt to find some relief, but he doesn't give in to her. Not yet. Not when he's clearly having fun learning each curve and crevice of her body, memorizing every peak and valley that makes up her person, leaving her a panting mes beneath him. "Locke.." His name is nothing more than an exhale, catching in the middle as she arches, cunt clenching around nothing as he continues to tease her.
She's aching so badly it hurts, a slick mess between her thighs that drives her beyond crazy as her hips cant up, searching for a friction that isn't there. He pauses at her hip, tongue tracing over the sharp jut, her skin missing the bruises of his fingertips and it almost doesn't look right not to have them there. Finally he settles between her thighs, spreading them with his shoulders as he lays on his belly, hands bracing on the outside of them to keep her spread for him. Maeve whines, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as her fingers tighten in his hair, trying to draw him forward so he might relieve this pressure that's been building in her belly since she arrived at camp. "Please Locke... Mon amour, I need you so badly. Voulez-vous que je mendie?"
The language flows off her tongue so easily in moments like these, the words wrapping around them melodically, drawing them both deeper into the moment. While he might not understand, the intention behind them in clear, trying to make him cave. "Pour ta bite? Ta langue? Je le ferai si c'est ce que tu veux."
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
He loves seeing her like this, it's been so long, such a rare thing that he's taking it all in again, like new. That feeling is back, but different now. Or maybe just a new facet. Whatever, he's having fun. Kind of. He spreads her, taking his time to just look at her. Hazel eyes flick between her dripping cunt and her seafoam green eyes. The way she says his name always does something for him and he hums back softly, leaning down to swipe his tongue across the jut of her hip again. He's in no hurry, he has all day.
She whines for him, words he doesn't quite understand but he gets, falling from her lips. "Mm, not quite Kitten. Don't think you can give me what I want." There's no anger or bitterness to it, simply stating a fact. But it's true. He wants too much from her and that wasn't what they agreed on. It wouldn't be fair of him to ask her for what he wants. His teeth drag along her hip, pausing only to press a kiss into the side of her thigh before he continues his decent.
"Begging is a close second though, so I can settle for that." His voice is husky with lust as he finally lets himself taste her. Somehow this will always work him up more than having someone go down on him. She tastes amazing though, sweet, slightly salty, exactly like he likes her. His tongue presses against her clit, mimicking the motions of his fingers earlier. Just ignore what he said before Maeve and let him devour you.
It's agony the way he makes her suffer in the thick of her need, everything in her aching for him in a way she can't even put words to, knowing whatever she tried to say would fall short. Her cunt, her heart, her very soul. All of it yearns for him, urging her to reach and tug and pull until he gives in, until he becomes one with her in a way no one ever has. There are others who fill her mind, who tease at her heart, but only one person really has it. Locke has it and doesn't even know it. Maeve doesn't even realize it herself. That no one will compare for her right now. Not Sunjata or Aurelia or Hotaru. None of them have taken care of her like he has. No one will ever come close. It's a heady thing that she can't unwrap or unwind, tangled up in her chest and around her heart, tying her to him in ways she can't even fathom.
"Just tell me what you want... Please, Baby. Let me try." She whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as she writhes, hips rocking up towards his mouth even as he leaves another bite at her hip before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. It's cruel. Maeve is close to crying, begging, and wailing just so he does something instead of keeping her so on edge she's shaking. Maeve keens high in her throat, pitiful and needy, cunt clenching around nothing as he finally dips down and his words wash over her. She takes a shaky breath, filling her lungs partially, preparing to do just that until his tongue swipes across her folds. Maeve jerks, hips shooting off the blankets as the fingers in his hair tighten, nails biting into his shoulder as she cries out.
Whatever argument that had been in her head before disappears without a second thought, the only thing she can focus on is the heat of his tongue and his fingers curling at her hips, holding her in place as she squirms. It's impossible to stay still, hips rocking up against his mouth, grinding against his tongue to chase that edge that he's been inching her towards for the last half hour. Maeve doesn't care if she's desperate and needy. She doesn't care if it makes her look weak to need him so much. She doesn't care at all. Not when there is heat in her belly and his mouth between her legs.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
He chuckles, low and dark in the pit of his chest. He'll tell her, in a minute. He's kind of busy right now. And it's not like she can expect him to stop when she's acting like this. This is his favorite game and he aims to win. His fingers dig into her thighs, spreading her wider so he can lap the sweet nectar more easily. He keeps his tongue busy, drawing little circles over her bud between gentle nips and harder sucks.
Plus, he needs time to mull his words over. He's walking a fine line, if he tells her what he wants. It scares him, kind of, but so do a lot of things. And maybe he's feeling a little reckless, a little possessive. He growls as her nails dig into his shoulders, drawing a hiss of pain before he bites her thigh in retaliation. He can feel the faint sting of sweat in a cut and it only makes the heat rebuilding in his belly worse. With more trepidation than is warranted, he pulls one hand away, slipping it between them. He plans on fucking her properly so he might as well get her ready for that. He presses first one, then a second finger into her cunt. Locke curls them, urging her closer to the edge. "Be a good girl and come for me and I'll tell you." He only pulls away for a second, too intent on his goal.
His chuckle vibrates through her, humming against her clit, causing her thighs to tremble and clench around his head. Maeve doesn't want him to stop. If he stops she might cry. Actually cry. The tips of his fingers press into her thighs hard enough to leave bruises as his tongue works across the slick lips of her cunt, gathering every drip into his mouth, drinking it all down greedily.
It isn't until he presses two fingers into her channel that she sees stars, clenching around them as her back arches, eyes squeezing shut as she cries out softly. She's so close already and he gives her a task that she can't refuse. It's so easy. Such a simple request. All she has to do is fall apart for him and she's so close to doing that already. The muscles in her belly tighten and flutter, jumping as she squirms, attempting to fuck herself onto his fingers in a vain chase towards her release. He doesn't deny her. He presses his fingers into her, keeping up the attention on her clit, spreading fire through her veins. Maeve moans, broken little things that push past her lips and end in whimpers, sweat gathering on her skin as the heat builds around them.
She doesn't know how long it takes her, but it feels like only seconds before she's falling apart, nearly sobbing with her release. Cunt fluttering and clenching around his fingers, drawing them in deeper as her thighs tremble, shaking with the surge of her release. There is a gush of slick to meet him as her chest heaves, fingers finally easing their grip in his hand and on his shoulder, eyes shut as she tries to catch her breath.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
It doesn't take her long and he's kind of proud of himself. Maybe he'll tell her as much. He doesn't pull away right away, languishing in the way her hips jerk and the little hiccups of sound that fall from her lips. When he does finally pull away, he licks his fingers clean before crawling up her body, another trail of kisses in his wake. He presses his lips to her's, something incredible chaste compared to what they've been doing. Locke takes one of her hands, lacing their fingers together and pinning her down against the bed. Hazel eyes meet green and he's suddenly scared again. Eyes dart to one side before he gives into his insanity and finds her gaze again.
"I want you, Maeve. Not just part of you, but all of you. And it scares me. And I hate it. And I hate myself for it too." There's nothing behind his words, simply truth because that's all it is. "I don't care who you fuck as long as it's my cock you crave. Don't care who you kiss as long as its my bed you warm." He tucks his face into her neck, inhaling softly. Lavender and everything he loves about her and hates about himself. "I know you can't give me that so can you just.. Pretend. For one day. Like I'm the only one who has your heart?"
