Mature Prompts — Pirate, Neia, Rafael & Vallen

I'm sorry these are so late. I had a stomach bug that knocked me down for two days. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

- - -

His hands brush down your back, following the dip of your spine. You can feel the cuts on his fingers and the burns on his palms, and when he tips his face to the side, his beard tickles your chin and cheeks.

The bedsheets are soft, fresh, and made of silk. Above, he's hard, warm, and made of muscle. Your hand jerks in his hair as the Pirate's tongue brushes yours. You meet a bump and swiftly pull the leather cord off his head.

The Pirate's midnight hair surrounds you, his lips tilting in a bemused smile. "Eager, are you?" he asks, his voice as dark as his hair. His fingers are at your belt, toying with the rim of your pants.

You open your mouth to answer, but he presses his knee between your legs, and you arch against him instead. Desire flares in your lower stomach, turning words into a whimper.

His smug smile brushes your cheek. "Hmm?"

You tighten your hold of his hair. "I'm half-naked beneath you," you gasp. "What do you think?"

You hate how his pleased chuckle travels down your chest and buries in your core. The Pirate kisses you on the lips, almost sweet if he wasn't still smirking, and then leans away, rising on his knees to look down at you.

There's a pause. The scarce light bathes his bare torso and casts his face into orange shadows. But you can see his eyes clearly, and they stare into you.

You bite your bottom lip, suddenly self-conscious. You've been together a couple of times, but it's been quick, both of you mostly dressed and riddled with desperate lust. He's never seen you like... this.

Subconsciously, you bring your hands to cover your breasts, but the Pirate grabs hold of your wrist and gently sets them to your side. "None of that."

He says no more. He just watches you, eyes trailing over your body. You bury your teeth into your abused lip. "What?" you ask, hating how it sounds like a plea.

"Just admiring the goods," he says coarsely. His hands let go of your wrists to cup your jaw and move down your neck. The captain's chamber is warm, but it gets suffocating as he leans down, tracing your collarbones. "They're the finest I've had."

You can't help but laugh. "Shut up," you say, pulling him down, wanting to kiss him, but the Pirate grabs your hands and, again, puts them to the side.

"Behave," he says, breath ghosting over your lips. He smirks, brings his hands back to your shoulders, and slowly drags them down. You close your eyes when he gets to your breasts, palms cupping the sensitive flesh.

You moan when he rolls your nipples and wrap your legs around his tight when he kneads the flesh, squeezing and pulling expertly.

His voice is darker now, more a rumble than speech. "My name sounds good on your lips, peach," he says, kissing your neck slightly. "You should moan it more often."

You do, bucking against him, and he rewards you with a searing kiss that has you gasping for air. You claw at his back, rubbing your pants on his leg, the fire spreading in waves through you, robbing you of thought and speech, only him. Only...

He lets go, and you yell.

But the Pirate doesn't give you time to rip his head off his shoulders. He grabs your pants and yanks them off, and you ignore the tearing sound to work at his belt, freeing the front of his pants. You sneak a hand past the leather strings, palming at his groin. He's hard for you. He grunts but, for the third time, pushes your hand away.

"You do that, and I'll come," he says, resting large palms on your inner thighs. "Let's spare my self-worth."

He pushes your thighs outward. "Spread your legs, baby, that's it." He moves between them. "Wider."

There's pressure, and then, you're floating above the clouds.

The Pirate falls on his elbows on either side of your face, midnight black eyes taking you in as you dance against one another.

-

Dawn sleeks back onto the world.

It reflects like a million mirrors on the sea's surface, and one of the early beams comes resting right on your face. You stir, frown, and then open your eyes.

A hairy arm slumps over you, and soft breathing rustles the hair behind your ear. You stretch your legs, muscles pleasantly aching, and smack your dry lips. Lord, you could use some water.

Gingerly, so as not to wake him, you duck out of the Pirate’s hold and grab the nearest piece of clothing. The shirt is too big and airy, but the pants are yours. The boots you put on, however, have your feet swimming inside. Still, you awkwardly waddle to the door and walk down the familiar corridors of the ship toward the mess hall.

When you return, a large glass of water in hand, the Pirate is seated against the bedframe, filling tobacco into his old pipe. When you close the door, he looks up and smiles around the stem. "Look at that," he says, taking a few puffs to get the fire going. "She returns."

You lift the water glass. "I was thirsty."

"I have a water keg near the desk," he says.

You pause. "Wish I knew that."

He chuckles. "Good thing you didn't," he says as you walk near. His eyes go down your body, then back up, stopping at the shirt. You look down and see that your right shoulder is bare. You fix the shirt, but it just falls to the other side, and now your left breast stares at him. "I like seein' you in my clothes."

Pirate exhales, smoking rising past his eyes. You look down, face heating, but smile. "I like wearing them," you say, climbing into bed. The Pirate lifts an arm, and you snuggle into his side.

He smokes in silence for a while as you absently drink. Then, his low voice rumbles in your ear. "I thought you had left," he says.

You look up at him, surprised. "Why would I?"

He lets out another exhale, smoke billowing towards the rafters as he turns to look at you. His black eyes stare, unreadable. "Thousand reasons," he says, takes his pipe, and leans down to kiss you.

- - -

Teeth mark you. "Ah!" You squeal out loud, but you don't know if it’s in pain or pleasure. They mingle into one, turning your brain into mush. All you know is that you don't want it to stop. "Neia."

The Dawnseeker smirks against your skin, opens her mouth wide, and bites down your inner thigh. You jump, writhing against her. Your belly rises up and down, and your legs shake under her ministrations. You don't know how long you've been here, lying on the bed. Your skin is alight through your body, burning in the places she marked you and aching in the places she hasn't touched you yet.

You put a hand on the crown of her head, fingers twitching in their want to clutch at the white hair. But you can't. Not yet.

Neia lifts her face from between your legs, her chin glistening. "That was so hot," she says, kissing the bruise on your thigh. Her tongue laps over the sting, easing the pain. "Scream like that again, little sheep."

Your throat is raw, your lips chapped. "I can't," you say, voice as rusty as a lost sword.

Neia bites your other tight.

You howl.

You can't see it, but you feel her torn smile against your skin before she lifts her head and buries her face within you again. Sparks fly behind your eyelids as Neia, the Dawnseeker, flattens her tongue on you, nose pushing into your bumble of nerves. "Don't stop," you beg, your hands moving on their own. You clutch her hair and pull it, and Neia grunts.

"Please, don't stop," you babble, as finally, it seems like she won't. She keeps at you, fingers, teeth, and lips joined together to make you forget your own name. You roll your hips against her face and swear you can feel her scar. Neia sneaks a hand up your belly and grabs one of your boobs, and the other is beneath your hips, holding you up.

White, surprisingly soft hair is made a mess in your hands. An iron spring recoils in your stomach, wanting to spring free. You tug her hair desperately as Neia licks you raw. "Fuck!" You yell, and the spring breaks free, its aftershocks spasming through your body.

-

When you come to, soft sunlight glides to a broad back full of scars.

You blink a few times, your jaw aching, and focus on Neia, bending down to tie her boots. "Neia?" you ask, tongue lifeless.

She stops. "Go back to sleep."

You lift yourself on one elbow. "Where are you going?"

She doesn't answer for a moment. You see the outline of her arms moving, then she stomps her feet on the ground. "I got a meeting on the ship," she says, turning around. She's bare from the pants up, and you see red lines on her shoulders and arms. "It's dawn already. You slept through the night, sweetling."

You give her a tired smile. "And who's fault is that?"

Neia chuckles and leans over to kiss you. Her hard scar is a sharp contrast to the gentle gesture. She breaks away, and you hope she doesn't catch your surprise.

Since when does she kiss you goodbye?

"Rest, but don't overdo it," Neia says, her yellow eyes dragging past you to search for something on the bed. "We're setting to go after the meeting."

You reach over and snag her shirt under the pillow. "Here."

Neia puts it over her head. "Thanks." She gets up and glances at the mirror. Then stops. You see her reflection scowling. "Hell's fires. Look what you did to my hair."

You had lay back down, but turn your head to see it. And laugh out loud. It's more than messy, it's downright disastrous. "You look terrible," you say, laughter making your chest move up and down.

Neia tracks the movement with hungry eyes, but still, she manages to scowl harder. "Where's the damn brush?" she asks.

You roll on your belly, open the bedside drawer, and hold the wooden brush. Neia makes to snatch it, but you hold it aside. "I can do your hair," you say softly, in a tone of question more than statement. "If you want."

Neia considers you. Then, she sits on the bed with her back to you. "Hurry up."

You leap and prop yourself on your knees behind her. The hair is tangled near the scalp, and memories of you holding on for your life flood into your brain. You shake yourself and start to untangle the strands with your fingers, careful not to pull. Neia is dead quiet, sitting with her back straight.

You start to hum.

She exhales when your hands brush her ear. "Sweetling."

"Hm?"

"Doesn't need to be perfect.”

You untangle the last strand and bring in the brush. "I know," you answer, but comb it slowly, perfectly. Silence falls over you like a blanket, and the air itself seems to shimmer with the morning sun. Somehow, you think, this is more intimate than what you did in this same bed a few hours ago.

"I really like your hair," you say, brushing the other side now. Carefully, slowly. Neia, for all her hurry, doesn't complain again.

"Hmm."

"It's soft," you say, combing it to the side so that her shoulder is bare. You kiss it quickly. "And pretty."

Neia huffs. "Pretty?"

"Yes."

"You're pretty," she says, making you falter. Without you wanting to, your cheek warm at the unexpected compliment. Is this a morning of first? "But you're also dragging this."

"Almost done," you whisper, and then, almost regretfully, you comb the long, white hair a final time. "There."

Neia glances at the mirror and sees your face behind her shoulder. "It's good," she says, turning her chin. You lock eyes, something in the air between you.

"It's nothing," you say.

Neia breaths slowly... then, she grabs your chin and pulls you to her. Her kiss is all-encompassing, and searing, and intense. "Fuck the meeting," Neia snarls, hand pushing you down so she can climb over you.

Your hands drift to her hair, holding dearly as you tilt your chin to kiss her better.

Oh, well. You can always fix it again.

- - -

"Fucking hell."

His voice caresses the arch of your ears, brushes along your skin, and lingers on the tip of your tongue so you can almost taste it. Your eyelids are shut tight, and your mouth is wide open in a soundless scream.

"Ya taste like gold," Rafael says, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck as his hips pistol into you. You'd go slack, but he's holding your hips, arching your back from the mattress. "Feels good, yeah? I told you I'd make you feel good."

Your toes curl, and your hands clutch at the sheet. Beads of sweat roll down your chest to your belly button, making the skin on your skin slap louder with each thrust. "Do I make ya feel good?" Rafael mumbles, sucking your skin below your jaw, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "Tell me."

You're barely listening, focused on the coiling ball in your lower stomach. Your muscles spam, and your jaw locks as lightning surges from limb to limb, toe to toe, nipple to nipple.

Rafael raises his head to look down at you. You see him between cracked eyes, his sweaty face looming, desperate, half-mad above yours. He calls your name and slips his hands into yours so that now you're clutching his fingers. "You with me?"

You crank your mouth open. "Rafael..."

He whines, falling into you. His hips lose tempo, becoming erratic, as frantic as the sloppy kisses against your mouth. "Want me to shut up?" he says, sucking on your top lip. You loop your arms over his neck and squeeze him. "Ya hav'to make me."

Even in your riddled mind, you get what he wants. Tilting your face, you kiss him, disjointed and clumsy, but that does it. Rafael thrusts his hips once more, hitting you deep, making you yell, and then goes stiff... and something warm shoots inside you.

"My God," he rasps against your lips. He slumps forward, crushing his chest on top of yours, but brings a hand between you, where he's already softening, and soon enough, you're tumbling right after him.

-

The stuffy air in the room is warm, and it smells of sex.

Rafael's chest heaves up and down beside you, his arm under your head and his leg crossed with yours. You stare at the ceiling, your mind pleasantly numb. You always love this moment when you're both spent and can float aimlessly together. No promises or plans for the future are needed. The present stretches in time, becoming more than a bridge between memory and future, and you can simply... be.

Rafael's eyes drift close, his fingers doing little circles on your forearm. Your eyelids flutter as sleep tries to claim you, but you snap them open. Raising your head, you stare at the thief sprawled over you.

He inhales... and shivers.

You frown. Rafael turns in his sleep, blindly seeking you, and pulls himself closer still. It'd be endearing if you didn't know he's burrowing in for warmth. The sheets bungled on your feet are thin, as is the cover throw to the floor.

You eye the closet on the far wall. You remember seeing a few wool blankets stored inside. Rolling to your side, you get up—

A hand claps your wrist.

You look over your shoulder and see Rafael looking at you. His brows are creased, and his eyes are still hazy with sleep. He blinks at you, then looks at his hand on yours and sets it free.

When Rafael looks up, his face is grim. "Not saying goodbye?" he says, trying to sound amused but failing. "That's rude."

You try to make sense of it, but your mind is still sluggish. "Why would I do that?"

His eyes cloud with a dark shadow. Rafael nods and sits on the bed, pulling the sheet over his body. "Shit," he says dryly. You're shocked by the bitterness in his tone, but it doesn't seem aimed at you; it sounds targeted at himself. "You're something else. Wish I could be as blunt as you."

He looks away with stiff shoulders and a stiffer mouth. You stare at his profile.... and then it dawns on you.

"Oh," you say.

Rafael clears his throat. "No need to hang 'round out of pity," he says. "I'm fine."

You shake your head and drag yourself closer to him. Rafael looks at you from the corner of his eye, scowling. "Goddamn it, go. I wanna sleep."

You put a hand on his cheek and turn his face to you. Despite his protests, Rafael willingly follows. You stare into his eyes and can't help the smile curling on your lips. His eyes narrow. "Don't bloody make fun—"

You kiss him, silencing him. Rafael's eyes widen, but he immediately kisses you back, clinging to you as if you might disappear in thin air. "Relax," tell him when you part, pecking his lips for a last taste. "I'm not going anywhere."

Rafael loosens, but his eyes are still doubtful. "I caught you sneaking out," he says.

You blow air in his face. "I'm getting you a blanket, you hardhead. You're shivering."

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks to the side, cheeks reddening. "Well, shit."

- - -

You stare down at your hands—one skin-colored and the other the color of the night sky between the stars. A tingle spreads up your arm, spider webs shooting from nerve to nerve, making the muscles jerk beneath the surface.

You slowly close your hand and don't feel your fingers curling against your palm — from the fingers nor the palm.

Your mouth twists. It's neither a smile nor a frown. Your thoughts weigh down with... something. Black tar coils around your mind, numbing everything but the supply of rage at an arm's length, ready to be tapped into.

Your mouth twists again. A peek white from your canines.

You—

Snap your head up when the door swings open.

Vallen is at the entrance, her braided hair flung over one shoulder and cheeks flushed with the chill of the night. She takes a step inside, looks at you, and pauses. "Bad time?"

You release your hold on the sword. "No."

Vallen closes the door, eyeing you. Her owl eyes linger on your palm when you flex it, the movement involuntary. "It's fine," you rasp.

"I know," Vallen says. She approaches the bed and discards her satchel on the bedside table. "I'm not afraid of you," she says, stopping before you. You crane your neck and watch her eyes watching you. "Not one bit."

"You should."

Vallen leans down to brush her cherry lips against yours. You inhale, smelling rain on her skin and the faint iron of blood. You tilt your chin, but she leans away, smiling enigmatically.

"Who did you kill?" you ask her.

"No one, "Vallen lies to you and steps towards the water basin, shedding her cape and slipping out of her boots. You gaze as she takes off her shirt, and the wrappings around her chest are almost the same color as her pale skin. "No one important, anyhow."

You hum. The tingles persist, but they're fainter now. Something else stirs inside you as Vallen unlaces her trousers and daps herself with a warm cloth. You gaze at her body. Lithe but toned. Cat-like, with dips on her lower back and slender calves. "I was waiting for you," you say.

Vallen looks over her shoulder. "I know."

Your lips twitch again. This time, they smile.

Vallen finishes washing off and turns to you. If looks could cut, her chest wrappings would fall in shreds to the ground. But it can't, so you motion her with your human hand instead. "C'mere... you can sit in my lap."

Vallen stalks forward with a permanent tilt in her mouth. You widen your knees apart, making space for her. She sits on your right knee with the very edge of her bottom. "Does this please you?" Vallen asks hands between her thighs.

You slowly touch her back, fingers drifting up her spine. "You want to please me?" you ask, resting your marked hand on her leg. You can't feel the soft skin, but you see her shudder when you move from her hip to her knee, then slip to the side, following the curve of her knee and up her inner tight.

"I want to do more than that," Vallen answers.

Vallen sucks in a breath when your finger brushes against her undergarments, legs flexing instinctually. You rest your chin on her shoulder, your other hand falling to the handle of your sword. "What is it?" you ask, putting her earlobe between your teeth.

"I want to own you."

You bite her.

Vallen gasps, and the texture on your black hand between her thighs changes. You look down and see it damp. Vallen loops her hands around your shoulders, up your neck, and comes to clutch at your scalp. "Say it," she says, kissing the side of your mouth.

"What?" you ask and rest the cold tip of your sword against her back. Vallen kisses you, tongue bursting past your lips to lap at your mouth, flushing herself against you.

A tearing sound, and her chest wrappings came undone.

You pull them off, leaving her searing mouth to bite down her neck. Vallen tugs at your shirt until you raise your arms and throw it behind her. She calls your name. "Say it."

You're too busy sucking a nipple into your mouth. She wails, arching her back, and turns in your lap until her groin is against yours. Vallen rolls against you, pleasuring you both. You kiss the valley between her breasts, moving from one to the other, but her hand snaps around your jaw, and Vallen violently tugs your face up.

Her eyes stare into yours. Unblinking. All seeing. "Say it."

You have no choice. "We’re one."

Vallen crashes her mouth against yours. You rip her underpants with one brisk pull, and she bites your tongue when you slip a finger inside her. Your marked hand drifts to her butt, squeezing with the roll of her hips.

Vallen kisses you until your chest rages for air, and then she parts, staring into you as you slip another finger. "No one can touch you like I can," she says, possessive hand on your shoulders, clawing red lines. The other drifts down your front and slips into your pants.

You grunt, amused. "What'd you do to them?"

Vallen's eyes flash. "The same you'd do to anyone who'd touch me."

You laugh. It's dark and low, and Vallen drips onto your hand. You increase your rhythm, slipping yet another finger, and she slumps against you, breathing rapidly. "Look at me," you say, pulling her upright. "I want you to watch you come on my fingers."

She does, and she comes, quietly at first, then all at once. You kiss her while she comes down, drinking in her little sighs and moans. Your arm doesn't tingle, and the empty, emotionless coldness has retreated for a little bit.

You lean back, staring at her flushed face, and feel more than lust. You feel...

Vallen sighs. "I needed that."

You caress her thigh slowly, wiping your fingers. "So did I."

She brings her hands to your face and looks deep into your eyes. "Welcome back," she says, her smile warmer now. You don't know what to say, so you welcome it when she kisses your lips lovingly.

Vallen then pushes you down so you lay on the bed. "Now, stay still," she says, her naked form climbing over your body. "It's your turn."