#* unspokcn.

[unlore]

@unspokcn from here

"i ought to have you on your knees more often."

as though she doesn't enough already. at any opportunity. rosie's thumb brushes against his lower lip, hard fingertips resting against his jaw.

a smile curves her mouth. she watches, hungrily.

"such clever hands. such uses can i imagine for them, gabriel."

perhaps it's a suggestion. who's to say?

[unlore]

zoya bites the inside of cross' thigh.

@unspokcn

cross yelps in surprise, leg jerking away from zoya without any thought to the movement - which almost ends with a kick to the head, in fact, while a startled giggle falls from cross' mouth. "you can't do that!" they admonish, propping themself up on their elbows to give zoya a serious look that doesn't look so serious at all. "you could have died."

[unlore]

bente stands, worn and uncertain, at the threshold of taron's room. :)

@unspokcn

it takes taron a moment to look up from his books, but when he does, he recognises her easily enough - from the colour of her hair, from the way she holds herself - and relaxes, offers a small smile. "bente." almost a sigh of a word as he leans back in his chair, rolling out stiff shoulders. "are you... did you need something?"

[unlore]

nikandr watches, with precise protective instinct—as much as he can at his age.  ‘you are tired, mother.   shall i hang the laundry?’ he paused, flexing his arms.  ‘i can manage, even the heavier sheets.’

@unspokcn

rosie gives him an amused, faux-impressed look, leaning back in her seat as she regards him. "oh, i see. you are my big, strong boy, no?" her smile reappears, curling at the corner of her mouth as she nods toward the basket. "do you think you can carry the basket outside for me?"

[unlore]

at age nine, nikandr is sitting perfectly straight as he observes his mother in front of the hearth. he will pass ingredients as needed and even stir the contents.

@unspokcn

it's so easy, so comfortable. rosie humming an old tune while they work, bare feet on stone, the smell of herbs and cooking meat. the pot bubbles on the stove, fire roaring beneath, warming the room. she touches his hair as she passes, endlessly fond, and settles in a chair near to the fire. "and now, we wait. and what shall we do in the meantime, little one?"

[unlore]

40 / tati in her demon form to rosie, rosie receiving

@unspokcn / meme / 40

tatienne is exquisite in this form, in rosie's (correct) opinion. the sorceress' eyes never leave the cambion as she pushes inside her, hard and fast and sloppy, taking in the sight of those fiery eyes, that look on her face. it is made even better by the way her hands wrap around rosie's neck, crushing her windpipe until all she can do is wheeze and gasp as the pleasure builds.

her hips hitch and buck against tatienne, wild and desperate as her lashes flicker, her holes fluttering and clenching as she comes close. so close, everything amplified, pushing her into a crashing orgasm that has her gushing across the both of them, bladder let go in the moment of climax and mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

[unlore]

11. / mina and ankha, with mina being the reciever

@unspokcn / meme / 11

ankha's hand smooths across mina's lower back, soothing as she presses inside, one firm, decisive push that settles the toy deeply inside the other woman's ass. it's an almost tender moment as she pauses there, giving mina a second to adjust as her hand continues to rub that soothing circle. she has to bite her lip to keep back the groan of satisfaction at seeing mina like this, spread out before her and taking it so well, though she really needn't bother.

"fuck, you look good," she murmurs, moving her hips just a fraction as though to test mina's reaction. "are you ready?"

[unlore]

✧ sender changes rhythm abruptly to keep receiver from climaxing. / reverse / joey to anyone!

@unspokcn / ✧ sender receiver changes rhythm abruptly to keep receiver sender from climaxing.

it would be too easy, to allow this little dalliance to be over so quickly.

ankha has joey pressed up against the wall in some quiet corner, her lips pressed into the side of her neck, hand shoved down the front of joey's pants as she works the other woman toward climax. and then - and then, just when she's surely coming close - changes to slow, languid strokes, just not-enough.

ankha grins against joey's neck, waiting a few moments before she offers: "sorry," sounding not sorry at all. her fingers curl, her breath hot and quick. "you just look so good like this."