the proposal.
part two.
pairing: nesta x morrigan x reader
summary: summary: you’ve been infatuated with nesta and mor since the moment you landed in the unfamiliar world of the fae, but knowing they’re mated, you’ve kept a safe distance. but when they invite you to share their bed, how are you supposed to say no?
word count: 5k
warnings: explicit sexual content. 18+
authors note: this is the smut girls. i forgot to mention in my original post but reader is female! i had so much fun with these characters, still deciding whether to write more for my favourite girls <3
AO3 link: the proposal.
By the time you reach the bed chamber, your hands are already trembling with anticipation.
You’re tugged into the room by an eager Morrigan, Nesta following closely. You hear the door close and lock behind you, and the sound reignites your nerves. You recognise the room instantly as Morrigan’s.
You know she doesn’t reside in the house of wind permanently, but she’s certainly left her mark on her chosen quarters; a perfect reflection of her magnetic personality and glamorous appearance.
The bed chamber is decorated with warm hues, a direct contrast of the signature Night Court colours. Powdered rose, muted sage green and ivory, embellished with gold accents.
A large bed sits central to the far wall, adorned with so many plush pillows and soft blankets that you imagine falling into it must feel similar to landing on a fluffy cloud. There’s a huge wardrobe and a mirrored vanity off to one side, and you spot an arched walkway leading to what you assume is the bathing area.
You’re broken out of your reverie by Mor’s gentle voice.
“Are you okay?”
She looks pointedly at your shaking hands.
“Yes. I’m okay, just nervous.” You admit, and her face softens.
“We don’t have to do anything tonight, you know. We would wait forever if you wanted.”
Her voice is genuine, and it sparks something warm in your chest.
“Mor, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, if you don’t touch me soon I might implode.”
Mor’s answering laughter rings throughout the room, and you hear Nesta huff a laugh behind you. Your nerves haven’t entire dissipated, but the sound of their amusement helps to soothe them slightly.
Hands brace your hips from behind, and a warm, lithe body is pressing into yours. Nesta’s fingers trail upwards, brushing beneath your breasts before trailing back down, around towards the small of your back.
You feel a pull on the ribbon of your corset, and a release of tension at your waist the moment the knot is tugged free. You hold your breath as nimble, practised fingers unlace the ties at your back, and only remember to breathe again as Mor slides a hand up your neck and leans in close.
She’s close enough that you can smell her perfume; something sweet and floral. You can smell the cherry-scented lip stain tinting her lips and her natural scent underneath; something akin to warm spice. Each ring of colour in her iris is visible, and you track the movement of her eyes flickering down to your lips and back up again; watching as her pupils dilate.
Your eyes flutter closed, and then plush lips are on yours - soft and hesitant at first, until you press back against her. Any pretense of restraint vanishes. Mor’s hand winds up into your hair, fingers twisting into the silky strands and gripping, not harsh - but secure enough to allow her to tilt your head and deepen the kiss.
Her lips are searching; and the moment you feel her tongue slide across the seam of your mouth, you melt.
A quiet moan slips out as you open for her, and she takes full advantage of her height and your pliability. Your tongue meets hers in a dangerous dance, and you’re so entranced by kissing Mor that you barely notice Nesta loosen your dress completely until the fabric falls to the floor. A cold rush of air hits your midsection and legs, and you’re left only in your undergarments.
Morrigan doesn’t miss a beat, her free hand dropping to feel the smooth skin of your waist, pulling you closer still, leaving no time for insecurity to bubble up in your mind as the only unclothed person in the room.
Your hands, resting on her shoulders, slide up to her neck for better purchase, and Mor moans low into your mouth before pulling back, breathing heavily. Your eyes drag open as you chase her lips, and she huffs a small laugh at your eagerness, leaning just out of reach.
“Patience. We have all night, angel. No need to rush.”
Her smile is soft, and you’re pleased to see she looks just as affected as you; cheeks rosy and lips swollen.
As you regain awareness, you turn your head to find Nesta - but Mor is quicker, spinning you in her arms and vanishing the dress pooled at your feet with a wave of her hand.
You find yourself facing the brunette as Mor holds you captive for the second time in one evening, hands holding your hips flush against hers - it leaves you on complete display for Nesta’s hungry eyes.
Warmth pools in your lower stomach, and you press your thighs together hoping it suppresses the scent of your arousal. When Nesta’s gaze drops to the pale lace cloth at your centre, her eyes darken, and you know you haven’t been successful.
Nesta reaches for your hand, and you gift it to her willingly - but she doesn’t tug you towards the bed as you expect. Instead, she leads you over to the vanity, and seats you on the velvet stool in front of the large mirror.
You turn to look up at her in confusion, and she takes your chin in one hand, holding your gaze steady.
“Remove the pins in your hair, and then wait on the bed for us. Can you do that, sweetheart?”
Your heart is pounding; at her touch, at how direct she is. You choose not to read into how you feel the sudden urge to obey her every demand, and nod eagerly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. At this moment you would crawl to the ends of the earth if that was what she desired.
The corner of Nesta’s mouth tilts up in satisfaction, as if she can sense the direction your thoughts have taken. Then her hand drops from your face, and you miss the touch instantly, reluctantly turning to face the vanity.
In the mirror you see Nes approach Mor, who is leaning against the dresser watching the scene unfold with a fond look on her face. Mor smirks as Nesta approaches.
“Going to give me orders now, Nes?”
“As if you would listen.”
Despite her snipe, Nesta moves first - pulling Mor in for a passionate kiss, backing her up against the wall and pressing her against it.
Despite being the one cornered, and lacking the advantage of height by an inch or so, Mor appears to have just as much control as Nesta. You find yourself frozen, hands hovering over your up-do, watching the two battle for dominance.
Their kiss isn’t gentle like yours with Mor - theirs is a fight; pushing and pulling in equal ferocity. You watch, enraptured, as Mor spins Nesta - switching their positions in the blink of an eye.
Mor’s bare leg presses forward from the slit in her dress, sliding between Nesta’s thighs, and you stare shamelessly when the brunette shudders when Mor grinds forwards. Twin moans jolt you from your reverie, and you rush to tug the hairpins free from strands of hair, anticipation burning like molten fire in your veins.
You drop a handful of hairpins on the vanity table with a clatter, eyes flicking back to the reflection of your companions just in time to hear a loud rip. Your jaw drops as you locate the source of the noise - Morrigan has grasped the bust of Nesta’s dress corset and torn it clean in half, baring her lace-clad breasts.
“Mor!” Nesta snaps. “How many times have I told you not to destroy my favourite dresses?”
“Sorry.”
Mor shrugs, grinning, not looking even slightly apologetic. Under Nesta’s withering glare she follows it up with;
“I’ll buy you ten more to replace this one.”
Mor makes quick work of removing Nesta’s dress completely, and you turn back to the task at hand - knowing the moment you glimpse Nesta in her undergarments any attempt to concentrate will be futile.
Tugging the last couple of pins free, you drop them onto the table. Hair unbound and slightly creased, you walk over to the large bed. After a second of deliberation, you crawl to the centre, pausing on your knees.
Glancing up - you see that Nesta is tugging Mor towards the bed - having regained the upper hand. She pushes Mor down so she’s sat on the edge of the bed, and only then does she turn her gaze to you. Nesta takes in your loose hair and your position, and the corner of her mouth lifts.
“Good girl. Come over here.”
You slide forwards so you’re next to Mor, and Nesta looks pleased as she takes in the two of you side by side.
“Why don’t you keep our dear Morrigan entertained while I take care of her dress?”
Mor turns her head, a sly smile already playing at her lips, but Nesta is quicker.
“Eyes on me, Mor.”
Mor rolls her eyes and you’re sure she only complies because she wants to - but does as she’s told, nonetheless. Nesta drops to her knees gracefully, and you find yourself perplexed as to how she’s going to remove Mor’s clothing from there, but you decide to leave it in her hands.
You sweep Mor’s golden locks away from her shoulder - baring her pale neck to you.
You press your lips there, gently at first, and then a tad firmer when you hear her inhale a shaky breath. The moment you taste her skin, however, it’s as though a match is sparked inside your chest.
You need more.
You press open mouthed kisses just below her ear, all the way down to her collarbone. You suckle and bite gently as you go, relishing in the gasps and pleased hums Mor releases, tilting her head to give you easier access.
You take your time, and after a few minutes that could’ve stretched into forever, you pull back; both you and Mor are breathing heavily. You take in her lidded eyes with a satisfied smile.
Turning to look down - you find Nesta hasn’t moved between Mor’s legs; rather, she’s been watching you toy with Mor with a satisfied expression on her face, fingers trailing teasingly up and down Mor’s exposed leg.
You’re still working on finessing your enhanced fae senses, often missing things that seasoned fae notice quickly - however, it don’t require any focus to scent the arousal stemming from both Nesta and Mor. The tension in the room is palpable, and a warm feeling blossoms in your chest as you realise they’re enjoying this just as much as you.
“On second thought, I think we’ll let Mor take care of her own dress.” Nesta says, rising, looking as amused as you’ve seen her all evening.
Mor scowls, and you suppress a giggle at her indignant expression. Mor narrows her eyes at Nesta, and with a petty wave of her hand her dress disappears. Any amusement you feel is drowned out by surprise, then desire, as you take in Morrigan’s lingerie-clad figure; skimpy red material leaving nothing to the imagination.
You swallow hard. Two heads snap towards you - breaking their stare down - and you’re about to ask what’s wrong when you see Nesta inhale sharply, nostrils flaring.
It’s at that moment you remember they can scent your arousal too.
“I think we need to take care of our girl, Nes.”
Morrigan is the first to speak, and even with your cheeks burning you can’t bring yourself to shy away from their hungry eyes. You feel your underwear dampening with a pulse of arousal, and then both women are moving.
Mor moves out of sight in your periphery, and Nesta is leaning forwards - gently pushing you back across the mattress. You let her lead, and you shuffle backwards until your back meets something soft- or rather, someone.
Mor must have removed her poor excuse for a brassiere in the time it’s taken for her to situate herself at the head of the bed, because the first thing you feel is plush breasts pressing into your back, and you restrain yourself from turning to look. The next thing you feel is her legs - bracketing yours - and then soft hands, pulling you flush against a toned body.
A nimble hand slips between you, and your own bra falls loose. Nesta looks to you for any sign of uncertainty. Finding none, she tugs the underwear free and your top half is bared to her.
Her hands trail down, and you only remember to inhale when a soft voice is whispering “Breathe.” In your ear.
Next to come off is your lace underwear, and you lift your hips to allow Nesta to tug them gently down your legs. Then, you’re bare before her. Any creeping insecurity is quelled instantly by the look of reverence on Nesta’s face as she looks you over; and unlike your previous romantic endeavours, you don’t feel objectified.
Rather, you feel admired.
You think your heart might miss a beat as she whispers, so quiet you almost miss it;
“You’re…” Nesta swallows hard. “Divine.”
Her eyes flick up to yours, and you swear for a moment you feel her longing as though it were your own.
You can’t wait any longer.
Months of savouring every brush of fingers and lingering stare, months of dreaming about the women both in front and behind you has pushed you to the edge of desperation.
You find Nesta’s wrist and pull. You know she only falls forward because you’ve taken her by surprise, but she catches herself on the headboard quickly - only to find herself nose to nose with you.
You don’t waste a single second. Your lips are on hers, and she recovers quickly; tangling her tongue with yours and pressing you back to lean on Mor completely.
Nesta is tilting your head, and then a second pair of lips latch on to your bared neck. Hands cup your breasts - Mor - and practiced thumbs brush over your nipples. A quiet moan slips free, and it seems to strengthen Nesta’s resolve.
The hands on your chest have shifted and suddenly your sensitive nipples are being rolled between Mor’s thumb and forefinger, and this time you can’t tamp down the whimper that escapes. You feel your slick drip onto the sheet below, and you don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life.
Nesta pulls back, looking conflicted as she does so - as if separating her lips from yours is a challenge.
“Are you certain?” Nesta checks, one final time.
You can’t even muster an ounce of shame at the desperation in your next words.
“Nesta please. Yes. I’m sure. I want you. I want you both now.”
Mor huffs a laugh at your impatience, and Nesta’s mouth curves into a rare smile.
“Good.”
And then she’s upon you again; but this time you feel a sly hand drag down from your breast. Down over your stomach, down over the smoothly shaved apex of your thighs, towards where you need it most.
It takes every ounce of restraint not to raise your hips to meet Mor’s hand, and then she’s there.
Fingers slide up your slit, collecting the moisture there and dragging down, circling your entrance teasingly before stroking upwards. Nesta pulls back, lips shiny and stray hairs slipping free from her signature coronet braid. Her eyes flick down, just in time for Mor’s nimble fingers to reach your clit - and this time you do grind forwards.
Nesta’s hand comes down to hold your hips in place as Mor continues her slow torture; middle finger circling your most sensitive area, pulling pleading moans from your mouth.
“Nesta. Please.” You beg.
Her teasing smile is back, and it tells you she won’t make this easy.
“Hm? Do you need something?”
Nesta is a vision above you. You drag a desperate hand over her lace-clad breast to grasp her waist and pull her closer, and she snorts.
“I need you too Nes. Please.”
Nesta looks pleased, but doesn’t move. Mor continues to circle a finger rhythmically around your clit, free hand fondling your breast.
“Where do you need me?”
This time you do whine, and Nesta must take pity, because you feel the hand not holding your hips touch your calf - and trail upwards. Fingers brush lightly over your thigh, and then she’s so close. Barely a centimeter away from your centre.
“Is this where you need me?”
You’re nodding before she even finishes, and her smile widens. Slim fingers join Mor’s, slightly lower. She slides her middle and fore fingers down your slit teasingly, brushing over your entrance before pulling away.
You frown, opening your mouth to protest, eyebrows scrunched in desperation. But then you see Nesta bring her fingers up to her lips, and the sight knocks you silent.
Nesta slides those two fingers, slick with your essence, into her mouth and you buck against her firm hold. You watch enraptured and burning with desire as she swirls her tongue around the digits, before extracting them. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to trap the wanton moan clamouring to escape.
Then she’s back, and this time her fingers are breaching your entrance, sliding into your slick channel, pulling out to give an experimental thrust. The third time she does this, your head tips back in ecstasy, landing on Mor’s shoulder.
The hand on your breast comes up to wind into your hair, and Mor tilts you head towards her mouth. She tangles her tongue with yours, messy and hot and desperate.
It’s not long before you’re completely falling apart; whimpering into Mor’s mouth between wet kisses, pleading for them to keep going, to never cease their movements, to stay here forever.
Your orgasm creeps up on you between their relentless affections, and all of a sudden you’re on the precipice, so close, and Mor is saying;
“So good for us, baby. You make such pretty noises.”
“What do you think, Nes? Shall we let her come? She’s been such a good girl.”
“Are you going to come for us, angel? Are you going to soak Nesta’s hand?”
Mor increases the pressure on your clit, and your hips jump. At almost the same moment, Nesta adds a third finger, and the dual stimulation pulls a high sound from the back of your throat that you’re certain you’ve never made before.
“Oh fuck. Fuck. Nes, Mor, please let me- Oh my god- Please can I- Fuck. I’m going to-“
Then Nesta curls her fingers, whispers “Come for us, baby.”
And you’re done for.
Hot white pleasure obscures your vision as your body snaps taut, back arching. You cry out, hands grappling for purchase on the sheets.
You can feel them everywhere. In your veins and in your mind and in your heart.
The wave hits so hard you see stars, and you clench around Nesta’s fingers hard with a sob of pleasure, slick gushing over her fingers as you fall limp against Mor.
When you come round, Nesta is pulling her fingers from you, and you whimper as overstimulation sends aftershocks of pleasure from your stomach to your toes.
Mor is stroking long fingers through your hair, and at some point she’s laced her free hand with yours. You squeeze it, turning to look up at her. She gazes back with something you can only describe as adoration, and your chest pulses with warmth.
“How are you feeling?” Mor asks softly.
“I feel- incredible. That was…”
You’re not sure you even possess the words to capture how Nesta and Mor have made you feel, or to even begin to describe how you’ve just come harder than you have in your entire life.
You settle on saying; “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that before.”
The smile that Morrigan gives you in return is blinding.
“Good. We’d hate for you to be disappointed.”
Her satisfaction is contagious, and you smile back at her.
“Never.”
Mor’s features soften, and you treasure the look on her face; so raw and unguarded, you can’t help but feel a pulse of pride. You know how hard she’s struggled to be comfortable enough to take one woman to bed - let alone two.
To be laying here with her is a gift.
Your focus shifts to Nesta, who is watching you both with something equally as soft in her expression, if not as explicit.
“I think it’s your turn now.” You say with a cheeky grin, shifting forwards, freeing Mor and leaning towards Nes.
You press a peck to Nesta’s lips, and she shifts back to search your face for something.
“You don’t have to do anything tonight, you know. This was about you.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest.
“Nesta. I want to. If I didn’t, I would tell you. I promise.”
She looks for a few seconds longer, but must find whatever assurance she’s searching for, because she pulls you into her arms moments later. Soft lips find yours for a sweet minute.
You push her down towards the bed, and she pulls back to raise one sleek eyebrow, but she humours you with an air of amusement.
“My turn to be in charge.” You joke, and this time, she does laugh.
“We’ll see about that.”
But she complies all the same shifting to lay down. Before she can go far, however, you stop her.
“Wait.”
Nesta pauses. You reach around her head, and after a few seconds of feeling you locate the two pins holding her hair in place - and gently pull them loose. You check her face for any apprehension. Her lips part, but she doesn’t stop you. You take that as permission.
Two braids fall free, and after tossing the pins you pull your fingers through her hair, carefully smoothing the plaits away until her wavy golden-brown hair falls loosely around her shoulders.
When your eyes return to her face, there’s something there you can’t quite pinpoint - but she doesn’t look upset.
“There. That’s better.”
Even Mor is uncharacteristically quiet, and for a second you worry you’ve overstepped.
“Is that okay?”
You pull your hands back, wringing your fingers in your lap anxiously.
“Yes.” She whispers. Then she clears her throat. “Yes, that’s okay.”
A moment later she seems to regain some of her usual composure, tugging you forward until your mouth meets hers. Mor makes her presence known as she unclasps Nesta’s bra, and Nesta shifts to allow it to be removed.
This time when you push her down, she goes without delay. You pull back, and admire the woman beneath you. Hair unbound and chest heaving, lips pink and cheeks flushed - she looks more goddess than fae.
“You’re beautiful, Nes.”
The words slip out unbidden, but you can’t bring yourself to take them back. The flush on Nesta’s cheeks deepens, and you lace a hand with hers, dipping down to trail kisses along her neck - down towards her chest.
When you reach the peak of her breast, you take a dusky nipple into your mouth and swirl your tongue experimentally, drawing a hand up to massage the other. You feel more than hear her breathing quicken. When you suck gently, you’re graced with the first soft moan; and you resolve to find every pressure point on her body to replicate that sound.
You continue your path downwards, pressing soft kisses along Nesta’s taut abdomen as you go. When you reach her centre, you pause, glancing upwards. Nesta looks straight back, not an ounce of apprehension in her face - but you can feel the tension in her body where you grip her hips.
Morrigan is reclined on the pillows, watching you both with rapt attention, a satisfied expression playing on her face.
“Should I make you beg, too?” You tease, and Nesta narrows her eyes at you as Mor throws her head back and laughs.
“Oh Nes, I bet you regret being so demanding now.”
You grin at Mor’s words.
“I didn’t see either of you complaining earlier.” Nesta scowls.
Before Mor can antagonise her further, you dip down and drag a long lick from Nesta’s entrance to the apex of her slit, and you’re rewarded with a low moan.
Nesta tastes like heaven.
You do the same again, and this time her hips shift slightly.
Mother above.
You need more.
One taste has awoken a gaping void of need inside you, and you feel the burning pull of hunger low in your stomach.
You tighten your grip on Nesta’s hips and pull, barely registering her yelp of surprise before you devour her. Satisfied with her proximity, you slide your hands around to push her thighs apart, baring her centre to you. You swirl your tongue, lapping at her slick before pushing down towards her entrance; pressing in.
You’re rewarded with another long moan, and this time you feel fingers weave into your hair and pull you closer until your nose bumps her clit.
Nesta regains control, and you find you don’t mind as she undulates her hips; pressing you close to get your tongue as deep as possible.
“Fuck. That’s it, right there.”
Her encouragement spurs you on, and you squeeze her thighs in acknowledgement.
You continue that way for a few long minutes, drawing low moans from Nesta, each sound settling between your own legs.
You move upwards slightly, locating the place that she’s most sensitive; and when you find her clit and suck, flicking your tongue in a rhythmic motion, Nesta gasps. She begins winding her hips in circles, and as her moans become less inhibited and more frequent, you know she must be close.
“Gods. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. I’m-“
You redouble your efforts, and in your periphery you see Mor lean down to take one of Nesta’s peaked breasts into her mouth. That seems to be what pushes her over the precipice, because moments later she’s moaning out long and drawn, thighs clamping together - locking your head in place.
In your few moments without oxygen, you decide that you’d be happy to die here; between Nesta’s shaking legs.
Nesta’s grip on you loosens as she comes down, legs trembling with the aftershocks. You pull back, wiping your mouth, grinning down at the sight of Nesta completely undone.
As Nesta catches her breath, you turn to Mor, whose pleased expression is a mirror of your own.
“You know… I think she can handle one more. Can’t you, Nes?” Mor says, looking at you with a sly grin.
You turn back to Nesta and find her eyes are already on you; but instead of the satisfaction or exhaustion, you find a renewed hunger.
You hum, “I think you’re right, Mor.”
Nesta’s eyes narrow in challenge, but the impact of the warning look is somewhat diminished by the way her chest is heaving and her face is flushed with a post-orgasm glow.
You slide your hands up her smooth legs, and a shiver of anticipation works its way through her limbs.
This time, all remnants of hesitation are gone; you slide two fingers into her entrance, confident she can take them from your earlier ministrations. As you do so, you watch as Mor shifts closer, something sly on her face.
Then, she swings a leg over Nesta; placing her knees either side of Nesta’s head.
“I believe it’s my turn now, no?” Mor says, hovering above Nesta, smiling down at her.
Nesta scoffs. “How difficult is it to wait your turn, Morrigan?”
But the way she’s panting under your fingers and reaching up to pull Mor closer - tugging crimson underwear to the side for easier access, tells you she doesn’t mind this turn of events at all.
Mor smirks.
“Glad to see your tongue still works. Let’s put it to use, Nes.”
The moment Nesta’s mouth makes contact, Mor hums contentedly, and her position gives you a perfect view of both fae. You drink it in like a woman starved. Mor begins to move, and when Nesta’s tongue flicks out searchingly Mor tips her head back to moan, golden hair a cascading waterfall.
You trail you gaze downwards; taking in the swell of her breasts tipped with rosy nipples; soft pale stomach, muscular thighs, and dripping centre. When you drag your gaze back upwards to her beautiful face, her eyes are on you, something soft and longing there.
Mor reaches out, and you lean forwards; her willing servant in every iteration.
Her palm meets the back of your neck to drag you into a desperate kiss, and you respond with equal vigour. You continue to pump your fingers, inserting a third and pressing your palm to Nesta’s core to stimulate her clit.
Nesta’s hips pick up pace again, and you can hear her stifled moans beneath Mor’s hips. Her groans of pleasure must send pleasant vibrations to Mor’s sensitive centre, because soon enough the blonde is gasping into your mouth between languid kisses, hand drifting upwards to clench in your hair for purchase.
You want nothing more than to make them fall apart together, and as you curl your fingers Nesta gives something akin to a whimper. Mor is moving with purpose now, hips winding, chasing release. You raise your free hand to grasp her breast, giving a teasing squeeze before brushing your thumb purposely over her nipple.
You’re rewarded with a tortured groan, and Nesta must do something particularly unique with her tongue at the same time, because a second later Mor gasps, “Fuck.”
Together they’re a vision - you wish you could capture this moment and hold it in your heart forever.
Nesta; splayed out, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen her, not an ounce of her usual rigidity present.
And Morrigan; effervescent as always, seeking her pleasure without restraint; something close to vulnerability bleeding into her features as she climbs closer to her peak.
Mor’s gasps are coming quicker now, and you pull back to watch her fall apart under Nesta’s ministrations. You see Nesta clamp her hands tight around Mor’s thighs to hold her in place, and Mor is clutching you tightly seconds before she hits her climax.
When Mor comes, she comes loud; a shout of ecstasy echoing throughout the bed chamber - you pray somebody had the good sense to soundproof the room before you all entered.
Mor’s hips grind as she rides out the waves of her climax, and you swallow her further gasps of pleasure, nipping her bottom lip playfully.
It doesn’t take much longer for Nesta to follow through, coming hard on your fingers. You feel her clench and pulse around you, groaning low between Mor’s legs before falling limp.
Mor drops back on to the mountain of pillows beside you dramatically, and you huff a laugh at her theatrics. She looks pleasantly exerted, breathing heavily.
You pull your fingers free, and Nesta shudders - taking a moment to collect herself before pushing to sit up. You take in her flushed and lax expression, hair mussed like a shiny halo around her head. Her lips are glossed with Mor’s release, and you can’t help leaning forward for a slow, languid kiss.
She tastes like salt and heat. She tastes like she’s yours.
You pull back just far enough to rest your forehead against hers, and you stay like that for a long, quiet moment, savouring every second you have with this version of Nesta.
Your favourite version, unguarded and satiated and content. The one that belongs to you and Mor alone.
Nesta searches your face, and although she isn’t smiling, there’s a tender warmth that you haven’t seen before in her expression. She presses you down gently to the mattress, and you allow yourself to be manoeuvred where she wants you.
You find yourself between both women - face to face with Mor, with Nesta moving to fit herself against your back. A lithe arm slides around your waist, pulling you snug against a deceptively strong body.
Mor smiles at you softly, and you can’t help but return the gesture. When she glances over your shoulder, something conspirational plays across her expression, and then Nesta and Mor are moving in tandem.
A hand slips between your legs where you’re still slick and throbbing, and between the two of them they bring you to climax once more. Morrigan, more vocal in nature, talks you through your orgasm with sweet words and tender praise.
All the while Nesta presses kisses to your heated skin, leaving a trail of love bites on your neck that you know you’ll struggle to conceal in the morning.
Marking you as theirs.
As you recover, the three of you lay there in peaceful, satiated silence; fingers dragging lazily along each other’s warm skin.
“So,” Mor begins, after a while of contented quiet, her eyes sparkling.
“Are you glad you accepted our offer?”
You exhale an easy laugh.
“Yes. I am.”
Her smile widens, and you drink it in like a flower basking in the sun.
“I only wish you’d asked me sooner.”
“Well, we might have if you didn’t keep running away from us.” Mor laughs, poking you in the side playfully.
”For what it’s worth, I am sorry about that.”
You feel your cheeks heat.
“I didn’t get the chance to apologise earlier. I shouldn’t have avoided you this week.”
“There’s no need to apologise, angel. We understand.”
As grateful as you are for their compassion and patience, you still feel the tug of guilt in your gut.
“I’ve wanted you both for longer than you know. I just-“
You take a steadying breath.
“I just couldn’t risk losing either of you. You are… you both are… the most important people in my life here.”
Mor’s expression softens, and you feel Nesta’s grip tighten. Your voice drops to a whisper.
“I’m so grateful that I landed here, in the Night Court. With you both.”
Mor meets Nesta’s eyes over your shoulder, and something flickers across her face - gone before you can identify it.
“Us too, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else. I’m glad you decided to stay.”
Mor runs her fingers through your hair soothingly, and you lean into her touch. Embraced between the two fae you feel safest with, you feel your eyelids grow heavy.
You’ve never felt so seen or cared for.
Nesta whispers, “Sleep. We’ll be here when you wake.”
And so you do.
