Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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There isn't a response. No words are exchanged. They're mute beyond this point. Instead they communicate in nothing but shared breaths, moans, and growls. It's primal and raw and Maeve is lost in it. Lost in him. Her hand stays on his throat, thumb pressing against his pulse as she rides him. His pleasure is her own and it doesn't matter that he's unable to concentrate on getting her there. She takes what she needs from him. Her hips rocking erratically, desperately, chasing her own orgasm as he kisses along her neck and down to her shoulder.
A press of teeth is the only warning she gets before he's falling apart beneath her. Shattering into a million pieces and burning like a supernova. Fang sink into her skin deep, sending a searing wave of pain through her body, making her scream as she jerks in his arms. Maeve reaches down between them, finally releasing his throat to chase her own orgasm, fingers working quickly in tight circles until she's falling over the edge with him.
She collapses in a heap against his chest. Her own heaving as she fights to breathe, a mix of pleasure and pain still singing through her body, drawing a few fluttering clenches around his cock that's still buried inside of her.
Reality sets back in and he remembers how to exist, fingers trailing gently along her skin as if there's not blood beading down her neck and shoulder. He's never been one for words but hopefully she understands what he was trying to convey with all of this. This deep dark possession, the need to consume, the need to own her and give himself in return. He nuzzles into her, whispering soft words of love as he holds her.
Except reality is really setting in and he feels sore and he's exhausted and sticky? Was it always this sticky here? He presses one last kiss into her skin before leaning back to look at her. "Still alive?" He knows he's hurt her, physical, emotionally, but time heals all wounds. Or at least makes scars of them. But she's still here, all warm and heavy in his lap.
Speaking of, his leg might be numb, twisted as it is under him. He grabs handfuls of Maeve, lifting her up as he slides out from under her. "Should uh.. Finish the flowers?" His voice is still gravely and his demeanor drips lust instead of florist intentions. "Then maybe we can go.. Back to your's? Mine? Somewhere?"
She can't really feel anything beyond him. His fingers sliding across her skin, gentle and sweet, chasing away that lingering pain that skitters through her nerves. The Nightshade lifts her head from his shoulder when he shifts her, legs feeling like jelly and the mess between them is hard to ignore, but she lets him move her until she's untangled from him again. "I'm alive." It comes out breathy and hoarse, but confident. A hint of a smile curls on her lips as she moves to clean herself up to the best of her ability.
His question has her brows raising and she looks at the mess around them, glad to see that her flowers are fairly untouched despite their activities, "Right. Flowers. Should finish those." It's the next part that has her pausing, a shiver down her spine at the growl still in his voice, the desire so palpable it makes the air thick.
Maeve nods, reaching forward to cup his cheek, drawing him in for a fairly chaste kiss compared to what they shared only moments before. "Edmund is sleeping over with Paige... We could go back to mine. Talk a bit. Figure things out." Not that there was much more to figure out, she thinks. Their vows were made. The deal was done. There was no going back from this. Not now. Not ever.
He hums softly, watching as she moves away from him. They do their best to clean up but he already has plans for that when they get back to her place. He's never been able to have a proper bath with her and maybe he can change that now. He shifts onto his knees, smoothing his hands over his shirt to give himself some semblance of normal.
Locke starts to work on the flowers, picking out little weeds and dusting off leaves. She grabs his attention, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. It makes him feel all gooey and gross on the inside and he loves it. Something about Edmund being big enough to have sleepovers hurts again but he'll get over it. He's the one who left.
"Paige is going to be a bad influence on him." He gives her a grin as he says it though, full of mischief.
Her laugh is soft and light as a breeze that rustles the plants around them, jade eyes shining knowingly. "Oh, most definitely. He already seems to be getting wild ideas from her about going off on adventures in the Wilds." Maeve shakes her head, a sigh catching on her lips as she gently places one of the new plants into a previously dug hole, covering it carefully with the surrounding soil. Her attention shifts back to Locke, a softness in her gaze as she regards him, "Are you back for good then? With us?"
The hope that creeps into her voice is tangible, cradling every syllable as she utters them, delicate and freshly blooming. They might have made promises in the heat of the moment, but it's the aftermath that counts. His actions that follow in this very moment. She was giving him one final out.
He snorts, shaking his head. "Of course. You know, I caught her going through the portals once. Just before I.. left." The idea of Edmund slipping away bothers him more than he thought it might. He knew he'd be protective but the feeling in his gut is so strong. "Maybe I should teach him some defense things." Or just wrestle. Locke loved wrestling with his siblings.
She speaks again and he looks up from where he's scooping dirt around the base of a flower. He regards her for a long time, studying her face. "I never meant to leave before." The first time he was trying to find himself, only to find her. The second time, trying to clear his head only to find it filled with her. The third time, well, was never meant to happen. Hopefully there would never be a fourth. "I don't think even the gods could keep me away, not forever."
Maeve highly doubts that Edmund would ever dare to go through a portal without her. Especially knowing how dangerous they could be, but she'd have to have a talk with him either way. If only to ensure that it wouldn't happen in the future. "I'll have to talk to both of them. I'm not surprised to hear that Paige is getting up to that kind of mischief." The Nightshade hums, turning her attention to another flower, planting this one with just as much ease. "I don't think it would be a bad idea for him to learn a few things." Not that she wants him to ever have to worry about it, but she knows realistically that he'll need it.
He watches her and the worry bubbles up in her chest, apprehension about what she said sitting there like a weight, but he assuages her fears so easily. Maeve lets out a breath, a small smile curling on her lips as she ducks her head almost shyly, "Good... I'm glad you're back." Maeve murmurs, leaving it at that as they turn their attention back to the flowers, focusing on completing their tasks. The rest of the evening passes, their job done and their emotions bared for each other, leaving nothing for them to do but simply relearn each other for the evening without distractions.
