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!
Twisting for all she was worth that she might simultaneously remain firmly on the soldier's lap but so that his lips might do more than press against her cheek, Flora happily trades a snarl of pain in her spine in order to press her mouth against Koa's. It's the sort of kiss that gets written about in Mateo's raunchy smut romance novels; the sort that's fast and hard and messy. The sort that's as much teeth as it is tongue, and gods if it doesn't feel as though the press of his lips is so much dry kindling on the wildfire already well ablaze between her thighs.
The descent of Koa's hand feels positively glacial in comparison, and while the Doubletake is absolutely trying to maintain an affect of sultry composure, she can't help the way she's suddenly holding her breath and squirming in the soldier's arms as if by sheer force of will alone she can force his hand lower. Only when it does reach its destination, it's with an impatient huff against his lips that Flora feels her patience burning away in the heat of his hands and mouth. It's just one little shred of fabric and yet somehow its presence has her mentally vowing never to wear underwear that she might never suffer this sort of interruption again.
"Koa, I swear to Frey." She pants, somehow sounding both frustrated and pleading. Where her one hand had been trying in vain to free his erection, now she slides it between her own legs to roughly tug aside the lace of her underwear. At the same moment, she lets her hips rise in a jerk so that even should he fail to do anything, she might still find some satisfaction. "Gods, I want you."
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
He leans, ravenous, into the kiss, letting the ferocity of her need fill those empty spaces carved into his heart. On the heels of rejection, in the wake of exhaustion, Flora is a cool drink on a blistering day - an indulgence that no doubt shall be followed by a wicked hangover, but who cares about the crash when there's such a great high? It's a problem for future Koa.
Present Koa is wholly engrossed with the exploration of Flora's body, the way she moans and arcs and arches beneath his fingertips. He grins against the heat of her mouth, thoroughly delighted to find her so fervently receptive, laughing at her eagerness as she tears away the now-damp lace that bars him from slipping inside her body.
And slip inside he does, two thick fingers pressing easily into the heat of her core, hand cupping to improve his access. His whole body follows suit: in one fluid move he flips their positions, lowering Flora onto the ground and rising up above her on hands and knees. It gives him better access as well as a better view; Koa makes no secret about his admiration as he takes a moment to look over her body, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles against her throbbing clit.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Koa breathes, the words punctuated by thrusts of his fingers into her. If anyone asked Koa how he thought his day would wind up going, the answer would not have been close to this.
But y'know, our boy ain't mad.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
Given that the person with whom the majority of the Doubletake's sexual encounters have been with is quite literally able to read her mind, one might think that Jack would have ruined her for anyone else, rendering all of her other partners somehow unsatisfying. Instead - not that Flora could piece together the reasons - something about the way Koa wasn't giving her precisely what she wanted the second she wanted it, had her wanting him all the more. Given the break between when they were first together and now, it was entirely possible that the soldier's pauses and slow fingers were some trick that he'd learned, and not boyish ignorance.
So it was, that after what felt like a lifetime of holding her breath, she felt Koa's fingers slip inside of her. Inhaling deeply as if his touch was pulling air into her lungs, the Doubletake's fingers tugged at the soldier's dark hair as if he might be a marionette whose movements she could control. "Oh, yeah-"
As their positions are reversed, Flora finds her breath catching in her throat in response to the sheer teenage perfection of such a move. It's exactly the sort of thing that happens in romance novels, pop songs, or in the movies that play out in her mind while she's masturbating, and as Koa gazes down at her, Flora suddenly feels very much like the starlet in her own rom-com. Blinking up at him, the golden sunlight outlining him in copper lines that only seemed to brighten the colour of his stare, she can think of no one else she'd want in this moment as her co-star.
A coquettish reply forms on Flora's lips, but the sudden thrust of Koa's hand has tension collapsing the words as an expression not unlike pain contorts her features. Moaning in surprise and pleasure, Flora curls one leg up and around the small of his back to both encourage his hips down against her and force his fingers farther in. Reaching between them in earnest now that the space was available, the Doubletake used one hand to try and undo whatever was in place to keep the soldier's pants up, the other teased around the shape of his erection. Using the flat of her hand against the head of his cock, she tried to match the pace of his own fingers if only so that the idea of not swapping out his fingers for his erection would be impossible.
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
A pop song indeed, though one with a beat rather than lyrics, steadily thrummed by eager fingers against the heat of her core. He bites his lip as her face contorts, more than willing to press eagerly into her searching hands, to be baited by the supple leg. It won't take much effort from Flora to undo the ties of Koa's shorts, nor to slide them down over tanned hips that all but beg to thrust into her, bridge that mercilessly tantalizing gap between their shared desires.
He shudders at the first true stroke of his cock, momentarily losing focus on her pleasure as a wave of it hits him. But blank lust gives way to an eager grin, heady with the challenge as he steels his body against the siren song of her cunt. There's a fight to it now, an unspoken competition to maintain composure while the other does their fucking best to crumble all defenses - to be the one who is begged for more, instead of the one who begs. And Koa, well, he's a proud young man: he isn't about to let Flora gain the upper hand. His fingers move in time with hers, or maybe hers with his; it's hard to know who's in control now, where the blurred lines of their hormonal instincts overlap and intersect.
But gods, it's hard to keep himself off of her, out of her, especially when she lies beneath him like cool water on a summer day. Left hand still tangled in Flora's hair, Koa presses his lips against her neck, moaning frustration and desire and unbridled need against her supple skin. His thumb still rubs around her clit, but his fingers have vacated her pussy, leaving her open to make that critical move, to round the base they're dancing on and bring the whole thing crashing home.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
Though her mind is adrift in salacious imagery, both real and imagined, her fingers still register just how toned the body beneath them is, and how that compares to what last they'd been like this. Admittedly that time had been in her bed and there had been a good deal more nervous teenage will they, won't they, but gods if Koa hasn't gotten so much hotter in the summers she'd been ignoring him.
Without putting too blunt a point on it, there are a few times we might acknowledge that women truly have the upper hand against their male counterparts, as is the case now: though Flora's clit might be thrumming and her cunt opening to Koa's touch like some greedy flower, unlike the soldier, the Doubletake is not within spitting distance of her own finish line. All this was to say that it was with a smug little curve to her lips that Flora reached for the base of Koa's cock once she'd slipped his shorts over his hips, feeling quite confident that with his erection in her fingers, she was fully in control of this situation.
Straining her chin up and back if only so that the skin beneath the soldier's lips might feel as tight as the rest of her aims to be, the Doubletake lifts her hips slightly in order to tease them both with her wetness. Guiding the head of his cock from her clit downward, her fingers grasped the base of him all the harder as if to tempt him to make a move without her permission.
"Fuck me, Koa." She whispers into the tangle of his dark hair. "I want you to make me cum-" It's the sort of thing that, as a twenty-something, is meant to sound incredibly hot and confident, and though we might all roll our eyes at it now, gods if it doesn't have heat rushing down to her belly, and her clit thrumming nearly as hard as her pulse.
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
08-07-2023, 08:14 PM (This post was last modified: 08-07-2023, 08:15 PM by Koa.)
Koa
There's an art to life's distractions
It might all be corny lines and foolish posturing and the heady talk of youthful vigor, but gods if there isn't something about this seaside rendezvous that's pushing all of Koa's buttons. From the way the sunlight glints off her willing body to the smell of salt and sweat and sex, the young Dragoon is all but drunk with heady need and hot desire, all thoughts of heartache and propriety and past encounters and public indecency replaced with the blinding, pulsing beat of Flora, Flora, Flora.
It doesn't take any more encouragement - indeed, much more of her begging commands and Koa might burst there on the spot, drunk with the thrumming, electric thrill of knowing she wants him. She wants him, not someone else; it's his name moaned out like a prayer, his cock in her hands. Flora wants Koa to fuck her, and Koa?
Well, Koa is more than happy to oblige.
He presses into her, and fuck, if it isn't like finding cool water in the desert heat. A hot, incoherent moan on her neck as Koa lets himself be buried, clenching her hair and holding her close, each place their bare skin touches vibrating as atoms strive to share a space. "You feel so good," he groans fervently, thrusting his emphasis into her core, body picking up an unquenchable rhythm as he begins to fuck in earnest.
The hand on her clit runs down her leg, lifting her hip to give him more access, allow his thrusts to take him deeper into her wet pussy. He's not sure how long he can keep this up for; his brain is already quivering with the static of an impending hormonal storm. Silently, Koa prays for Frey to grant him enough endurance that he can see Flora reach completion before his control totally breaks.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
Not unlike first kisses that seem to stand on their own in the fields of memory, so too is it the very first thrust that seems to bring with it a pleasure that's somehow so much more than than the act itself. Encompassing all of the tension and preamble, as Koa enters into her she's simultaneously satisfied and desperately ravenous. So it is that amidst the pressure and pleasure, Flora hears herself inhaling sharply as if through surprise or pain, though feeling neither. "Gods, oh-" She moans, eyes pressed tightly closed as if by diminishing one sense she might heighten the others; or just one, in particular.
"--Nn, Koa." Flora pants, and though it's an awkward thing given their positions, she forces one of her hands between their bodies that her fingers might take up where his left off.
"I will really kill you this time, if you -" Finding what felt like a cloud of amusement and pleasure building up in her throat, it was laughter that spilled from her lips rather than the threat she'd been intending. "Gods you're so fucking hot." The words came thoughtlessly as Flora's imagination and tongue sprinkled set dressing around their act as if these verbal accessories might help them both toward their climax. "Fuck, Koa." She moaned into the side of his neck as her fingers worked frenetically against her clit. "Gods, make me cum. Please, Koa, make me-"
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
He might have felt shame at her not-fully-expressed threat, had his mind not been entirely preoccupied by the rising wave of pleasure and want that drowns out all coherent thought. Gone is the bitter memory of past indiscretions, gone is the heartache of a young man scorned. There is only her, only them, the rapturous drumbeat of their eager young hearts pounding a beat for their bodies to follow.
The breathless words add another level of aphrodisiacs to Koa's already muddled brain, stoking the fire of his impending orgasm. "Fuck, Flora, I wanna make you cum," he groans in response, his grip on her hip tightening as he continues to bask in her body. Slow, firm thrusts punctuate his desire, all control slipping away. "You feel so good, I need you to cum for me, need to feel it--"
His body shudders; the end is near. La petit mort rises and the boy cannot stop it, cannot prevent that glorious surge of hormone and release as he sits on a knife's edge. "Cum with me, Flora," he gasps, pleads, commands, his forehead pressed against hers, their breath intertwined. "Cum with me, I'm gonna, I can't, you're too---- fuck."
And there it is, the final threshold. Koa presses into her, needing to feel her around him as the symphony of sex strikes its final crescendo. Shaking, shuddering, melts into and against her, until all that is left is raw nerves and empty bliss and the glow of completion. With a shivering sigh he falls beside her, lips pressed panting against the sweet salty sweat of her neck. It will take him a moment to recuperate enough to ensure that she's as satisfied as he is - and silently he prays to Frey that she is, because the last thing his ego could handle would be leaving her disappointed yet again.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
It's everything Flora hadn't known she'd been wanting, and later, tucked beneath her covers with memories of this moment sending shivers down her spine, there will be only a sprinkling of lusty accoutrements that her imagination feels it needs to add.
Young and wild in a way that will slip from their fingers faster than either of them could possibly be aware, Flora clings to Koa with one hand as the other pulses against her clit. The words she moans against his shoulder are feral and inarticulate, though they remain firmly approving and encouraging despite the way every thrust of his hips shakes all coherent thought from her mind.
She thinks I love you, even though she doesn't.
She thinks Gods you're perfect, even though he isn't.
She thinks a hundred thoughts at once which aren't true, but somehow are in this moment.
Lips parted and teeth all but bared in an expression anyone passing by might mistake for pain, Flora inhales slowly but deeply against the crest of the orgasm she can feel pulling against the bottom of her feet like a riptide. "Gods, Koa-" She moans, before inhaling once again as if she might somehow find herself above the wave of pleasure taking hold and thereby riding it out and away from shore. The boyish way he shakes and clutches at her has nothing short of rosy and naive summer love bursting in her chest for the soldier in her arms as the full swell of her orgasm overtakes her.
Cuming with her lips stretched by the shape of his name, Flora collapses against Koa, wanting to fit herself against him to prolong the moment. Were they not far, far from the ocean she might have mistaken their rough exhales for waves on the beach, and the sweat on their skin for saltwater. Not bothering to open her eyes, she presses her lips against the swell of his chest muscles, the hollow of his collarbones and the rise of one shoulder, before opening her eyes and trying to blink the world back into focus while hoping madly that their act hadn't smeared her mascara too badly.
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
It's over the same way it began: with an unquenchable wave of magnetic attraction, the pair of them pulled together in spite of any reason or rhyme. His climax is all that much better for its near synchronicity, every atom of his being humming with a vibration attuned to hers. The past, the future, it all falls away; all that exists is the press of their bodies, the whispered ode that howls through him, deafening and unspoken: Flora, Flora, Flora.
In the aftermath they stay together, conjoined by exhaustion and sticky sweat. One of his arms tucks under his head; the other wraps around her shoulders, holding her thoughtlessly against his chest. Koa's eyelids flutter, heavy, as calloused fingers trace idle patterns upon her slender shoulder. She stirs against him and his grip tightens briefly in response, his body not yet willing to release this moment, to let reality in.
"So..." His voice is rough, playful, smiling, rich with satisfaction and a little bit smug. "Do you think Frey will accept your offering?" Lifting his head slightly, he raises an eyebrow to her. "Or should we plan an encore?"
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
08-23-2023, 08:54 PM (This post was last modified: 08-23-2023, 09:32 PM by Odd.)
flora
Blinking at him, Flora manages to look both coy and confident at the same time as a few latent shudders ripple outward from skin and nerves still fantastically oversensitive from their act. Where moments before her fingers had clenched and tugged at Koa's skin, now they only ghost lightly overtop hoping to coerce goosebumps in their wake and maybe even provoke a shiver or two. Feeling as though she could lay comfortably in his arms for the rest of the day, Flora's grin is a touch lazy before growing ever more catlike as she considers.
"I think we should definitely plan an encore." She agrees, feeling a strange thrill rush up from her chest where it lodged painfully, but not unpleasantly, in the back of her throat. Sipping in a deep breath around the feeling and arching herself against Koa, the Doubletake shrugs demurely before pressing the tip of her nose gently against his. "You know, just for the sake of the quest." She adds quickly, wanting to shield them both from (gods forbid) having to admit that they might actually want each other after so many years as frenemies.
Alas, not everything lasts, not even for the very young. Rather than their bubble bursting and leaving the pair cold and acutely aware of what they'd just done, instead, it deflated slowly around them, letting them make the most of their time together and all the things it both did and didn't mean.
~FIN
Just walk away, don't make me say
The only words I owe you: I told you so, I told you so
