Penelope's Lament (Mordred x Penelope)
December 28th, 2007
Penelope Gray shivered, wrapping her fuzzy green blanket further over her slumped shoulders. Snow had been falling for nearly an hour and showed no signs of stopping, the already white coastal landscape becoming even more obscured by thick drifts. If she was in a better mood, she would have made a snowman, or brought out her paints and made a magical landscape on one of the new canvases she received for Christmas. Instead, she sat on the back porch, relying on several warming charms, blankets, and hot chocolate to keep herself warm.
She’d been avoiding the rest of the household like the plague, actively ignoring her siblings and immediately leaving the vicinity when her father entered the room. Even without her telepathic abilities, she could tell her mother was deeply concerned, and it was likely the older eldritch’s tampering that kept her from a mother-daughter confrontation. While a part of her was grateful that they were giving her some space to think, another part of her was… cold.
She missed Mordred, the emotions a byproduct of their pitifully brief mating. Despite not knowing much about her father’s species, she had a strong feeling that newly-mated couples were meant to spend a few days together before separating. Her mother had told her, as well as her other siblings minus Roman and Tom, that she, Hugo, Robert, and Rose had all been conceived over a three-day-long marathon sex coupling. They had hardly parted, not even leaving the house. It was a conversation that had Hermione turning beet red in the face and covering her face out of embarrassment while Pennywise simply chuckled and failed to look like anything less than the smuggest eldritch in the macroverse. He was proud, undeniably so.
Pennywise wasn’t proud now, Penelope noticed. She could no longer hold his eyes because the last time she looked at them, they’d held so much anger, disappointment, and pity, three things that she hated having the older eldritch feel toward her.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” she’d mumbled, disoriented from being woken up for the second time on that fateful night.
He’d come to her at half-past three in the morning, likely soon after Mordred had left, and woken her up from her brief sleep. At first, Penelope thought she’d dreamt about becoming mated and impregnated by Mordred, but then the lingering vestiges of pain hit when she moved to let him sit on the bed. His eyes had flared red and a low growl escaped his snarling mouth. In contrast with his actions, he yanked back her covers and sat down next to her bruised thigh, gently taking her small body into his larger arms and cradling her to his chest. The clown’s head dipped, resting his nose and cheek in her tufty red hair.
They stayed like this for a moment until Penelope noticed a wavering tremor in her father’s chest. It wasn’t a suppressed laugh or anything to do with his breathing. She couldn’t place what it was until she heard a loud sniffle close to her ear and felt her hair begin to dampen. A few tiny splattering sounds up above on the ceiling and the smell of salt confirmed her hypothesis. Her father was crying.
Pennywise never cried, at least not often, and not seriously. The few times she could recall were when he and her mum had a row and Hermione’s words and actions brought him to tears. These were also, usually, a form of crocodile tears he used to win her pity. No, this, right here, was the first time she, Penelope, had made him cry.
His fingers skimmed the fresh bite on her neck, catching a bit of blood and making her hiss in pain, “Ow… hurts…”
Penelope watched as Pennywise’s fingers faded into a fleshy skin tone, moving over her belly to feel for the new lives growing inside. Bill’s eyes were no less watery as they found hers and offered her a proposal that shocked her to her core.
“I… I’m so sorry, little bug…” he rasped, bringing his other hand around to card through her red tufts. He looked back down to her mildly-swollen belly, “I… I can take them out if you’re not ready… That little bastard…” he growled at the vision of that long dark-haired youth defiling his precious daughter, giving her the bite and pups she wasn’t ready for. It would take a bit to see if they were truly mated, but he had few doubts that the boy had bit deep enough and sealed it with enough of his saliva to create a solid bond. If that was the case, it would take a while to undo something like that, but it was not impossible. He could still make this right...
“No, Dad!” Penelope shoved his hands off of her and pushed herself out of his arms, curling into a foetal position with her back to him, “I want them! Please! Don’t hurt them!” she sobbed, closing her eyes and trying her best to cover her naked body back up. It had hardly occurred to her until then that the evidence of her mating was so obvious. Her skin was marred with bruises and bites, various fluids remained on her skin, and she was sure she smelled like little else than sex and blood.
Penelope felt her father stand up, his warmth and weight leaving the bed as he moved away from her curled form. After a single lingering glance back, she saw those eyes, the nearly purple hue of angry, fiery red bleeding into disappointed, sorrowful blue. Tears flowed both up and down, both of the more dominant sides of her father showing their emotions. Despite how Hermione worded it, stating that the eldritch was her sire but the Bill Gray side of him was her true sire, it was moments like these where she had to prove her mother’s logic wrong. Both Pennywise and Bill raised her, they were the same in almost every aspect, aside from the endless hunger, lust, and bloodlust in Pennywise and the more eloquent, reserved, and dutiful characteristics in Bill. So, to see the eldritch cry in this new way… it broke her heart.
It had been nearly four days since she turned away from his sorrowful eyes, worried that anything she said would turn sour and destructive, as her father left the room in a desolate silence. Even then, she’d felt cold and numb. Mordred’s cooled seed slowly leaked from her, slicking up her inner thighs with a light gray sheen. Her fingers had hesitantly dipped down there, delving into the space she’d never delved into before on her own. It felt cheap and wrong, like she was doing something that she wasn’t supposed to do. Touching any part of her genitals felt painful, the skin and muscles healing from their first real experience with a male.
Now, she sat outside in the cold, leaving the rest of her family inside where it was warmer. Penelope felt like it was what she deserved, thrown outside like a cheap whore. Over the last few days, her mind was plagued by doubts, and that was one of them. It would be a week until she saw Mordred again. Would he have moved on and forgotten about me? Did he truly enjoy our time together? What is he doing now? Could there be others he’s spending time with? She hated those thoughts with a passion. They just kept coming and got worse over time. After enough time, she thought about tracking him down and murdering whichever bimbo was currently closest to him. The newly-surfaced eldritch part of her had a whole plan and was ready to act it out, but the other side of her, the more human side, was the only thing that kept her grounded in the Gray’s property.
A large black crow flew down from the sky and landed on the porch’s railing, startling her out of her thoughts. Dark eyes watched her, its head tilting and swiveling curiously. Penelope reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag of crackers, something she’d been keeping on her for the last few days as a precaution in case her family tried ambushing her in the kitchen.
Curiously, she tossed one of the small, orange, fish-shaped crackers at the crow and it immediately caught it in its beak, crunching a few times and swallowing. Giggling for the first time in days, she tossed another one and the same thing happened: the crow caught the cracker with a single twitch of its head and tossed it back, swallowing it whole.
The crow hopped off the railing, gliding silently until he landed at her feet. Penelope watched, mesmerized as the bird hopped up into her lap, nearly crushing the bag of crackers as it made itself comfortable in her lap. It wiggled itself a groove in the blanket covering her up and proceeded to leisurely munch from the open bag to her right.
“What the?” Penelope finally voiced her awed confusion, reaching forward with hesitant fingers. She’d been taught in her Care of Magical Creatures classes to never touch an animal while it’s eating, especially not a wild one, and especially not near its tail. So, she cleared her throat, waiting for the crow to look at her before petting its head.
The smooth feathers were cooled by the winter air, but Penelope could easily feel the warmth of its body underneath. This was a living, breathing, being, and she didn’t feel so cold anymore. It cooed at her, nuzzling her hand with the side of its head. She giggled again, bringing the bag of crackers closer for its beak to reach the pieces further away.
Instead, the crow’s beak snapped firmly around the side of her finger, making her let out a quiet exclamation. Despite her initial fear, she stayed still, letting the bird lead her finger toward its breast. Like the rest of the crow’s feathers, the smaller ones on its chest were cool and soft. However, there was something bumpy and hard, like bone, underneath them that made her pause.
Parting the small, black feathers, Penelope caught the sight of what looked like a familiar toothy fissure going down its front, figuratively cutting the bird’s underside in two. Confused, the young redhead’s brain quickly worked to understand the situation, and after a moment, she realized what was going on.
“M-Mordred?” she spoke hesitantly, tearing up with an ever-growing smile when the crow rapidly nodded and cuddled closer, nuzzling her covered belly, “I can’t believe it… It’s really you,” she giggled quietly, petting her disguised mate with both hands. Her face turned sad once more upon remembering exactly where she was and who she was living with.
“I was so lonely, Mordy…” she lamented, uncovering the blanket on her left to reveal the leather jacket he’d left for her, “Your smell faded so quickly… I couldn’t let go of it, not even for a moment. I’ve been wearing it a lot, too… but Dad hates it…” The substitute of ‘it’ for ‘you’ went unsaid, but both knew what she meant.
Mordred, the crow, stepped out of her lap, and settled on her thigh, nudging the jacket with his beak, “Oh… You... want it back?” Penelope’s heart sank, thinking the worst.
The bird shook his head in the negative, grabbing the nearest sleeve and pulling it toward her arm. Then, he kicked at the blanket with his bird foot, aggressively shaking his head. Penelope giggled, realizing what he was getting at, “Oh… You think this blanket isn’t enough?” a quick nod, “Alright, alright…” she donned the leather jacket, reveling in the faded scents of fireworks and pine trees, “Better?”
Mordred cooed at her, the small trill leaving his half-open beak as he started to climb her torso. Penelope giggled, picking him up with her hands and perching him on her arm. The bird resisted the initial move, extending his little bird feet downwards and looking at her more than a bit perplexedly. His wings threatened to furl open, but he restrained himself, trusting his mate to not harm him in such a vulnerable position.
He nuzzled her neck, nibbling on the scabbed bite mark and marveling at how much it was beginning to heal. Stepping back, he perched on her knee and took in the sight of his dearest Penelope wearing his jacket. Thoughts ran through his head, envisioning her in both more of his clothes, and less of any clothes. He had half a mind to just give her the jacket, maybe embroider some cheesy, possessive lettering on the back, like Mordred’s Girl, or the like. Maybe he could take her to get some fun patches after they return to Ilvermorny. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see her wearing his jacket and nothing else, but he would settle with defiling her little pastel, preppy, school girl outfits with something so rebellious and his.
His witch’s mood seemed to have lighted comparatively since he’d arrived, and it had burned at him to stay away. Their loneliness had compounded over their bond over the last few days, and so he decided, as the more mature one of the two of them, to seek her out once more and offer her comfort in any way he could, even if it was only his presence. No… he didn’t think it would be a good idea to fuck her again so soon, especially when neither of them were in good standing with her father at the moment.
Instead, he offered his voice. Crows weren’t known for their singing voices, and frankly, neither was he, but after a few cooed notes, Penelope’s eyes filled with a wonder that he wanted to keep in her eyes for as long as he could. They were so beautiful, the baby blue of her irises parting for enlarged pupils and the light of the porch catching her moist corneas in a way that made her eyes sparkle.
Mordred growled flirtatiously, his voice rattling as he bowed in her lap. His wings assisted him in a few pivots, and he was quick to nuzzle every inch of her that he could reach. Her fingers reciprocated the cuddling motion, rubbing along his sides and neck. When he finished his little song, Penelope picked him up in her hands and pressed a small kiss to the top of his head.
“That was beautiful, Mordy,” she grinned shyly, “Remind me to ask for an encore performance when you’re back to your usual self.”
The crow immediately shook his head, a human-like panic entering his beady eyes. Penelope laughed out loud, setting him back on her lap, “You don’t get it, love. We’re mated now, so there’s no getting out of it,” she half-joked, still feeling a bit insecure about their bond.
Her feelings must have been apparent, whether on her face or in her tone, because Mordred immediately cuddled up to her belly and spread his wings around her middle. A quiet, non-bird-like purr came from his chest. She knew that sound from all the times her father and brother were trying to be reassuring, loving, and comforting. To hear it from her mate now, even as a crow, told her all that she needed to know.
“I love you, too, Mordred,” she hummed, trying to pick up on a few of the notes from earlier.
Mordred resumed his comfortable seat in Penny’s lap, returning to the bag of crackers like he hadn’t eaten in a while. It concerned her, as he’d been rather reserved before, but now seemed to be even hungrier.
“Mordred…” she waited until he looked at her, “When was the last time you ate? Uhh…” she pat a spot on her thigh, near his head, “One nudge for every hour?” The bird shook his head, “One nudge for every day?” Penelope’s concern mounted.
He nodded once, nudging her thigh three times before going back to eating, “Three days! You haven’t eaten in three days?! What is wrong with you?”
Mordred ruffled his feathers and nudged his head into her side, “Me? You… missed me that much?”
The bird nodded mid-bite, “Well, we have plenty of leftover food… I think I could sneak you in…”
Mordred paused, looking behind her before looking back at her face. A hesitant warble left his beak and she nodded firmly, “You’re my mate. I want to take care of you, and clearly you aren’t doing a good-enough job of it,” she felt for his ribcage, miffed that she could feel it under his feathers, “You weren’t exactly beefy to begin with, but you’ll be nothing but skin and bones if you carry on like this…”
The bird made a short caw, trying to make himself look bigger, “No arguing, Mordy! We’re doing this.”
★★★
Penelope rifled through the fridge, picking out food that Mordred indicated for her to grab. A turkey leg, as well as three scoops of potatoes, stuffing, and vegetables filled a plate. She set it in the rarely-used microwave and set it to cook for two minutes. In the meantime, she fed him one of her mother’s homemade blood-frosting cookies.
“Here, love, try this. It’s blood-frosting. I’ve been told they’re quite good. Robert and my father practically fight over them,” she whispered, lifting the cookie up so Mordred could eat it where he sat on her shoulder.
The crow crooned at the flavor, taking quick bites until he risked biting Penny’s fingers, then he slowed down. She giggled at him, washing her hands in the sink and drying them off. The teen swiveled to turn the microwave off before it concluded its use with a loud ‘beep,’ but someone else beat her to it.
Jumping at the sight of her mother, Penelope made a high pitched squeak, cutting herself off with a hand over her mouth, “Mum, you scared me!”
Hermione said nothing, looking Penelope over and noticing the large crow on her shoulder despite its efforts to conceal its upper half in her daughter’s hair, “This is the most lively I’ve seen you since your birthday,” she passively observed, reaching her hands out to take Penelope’s. The young woman’s shaky hands gripped her own, and she could feel the warmth and comfort she’d denied herself for days. Hermione grabbed the food from the microwave and set it in front of her daughter’s usual spot at the table, “Come, sit with me…”
Her mother exuded a sense of impartial judgement in nearly everything she did, always thinking about the devil’s advocate and trying to look at things from another’s view. Hermione’s brain was unmatched, something Penelope hoped to strive for in the future. Hugo was of a similar mindset, the both of them getting their mother’s eagerness to learn more about the two worlds they grew up in.
“Your father has his knot in a twist about something, and he’s not telling me why,” Hermione began once the two of them were seated, “He’s all but ordered me not to talk to you about it,” a sardonic smile spread across her lips, “but he should have learned by now that I became quite a rule breaker in my youth, well before I met him…”
“I…” Penelope’s mouth tripped over her words, the sounds coming out incoherent and rushed, “I’m fine,” she said finally.
Hermione’s eyebrow rose in an incredulous expression, “Hmm… I can see you are fine now, but there’s a reason why your father’s been extra bite-y lately. Why don’t you introduce me to your little friend?”
Penelope wasn’t expecting her mother’s exact words. She had a hard time quickly going from nervousness, to disgust, and finally to outright anxiety in the span of two seconds. Taking a deep breath, she reached up and untangled her mate from her red tufty curls, bringing him down and letting him sit on her palms while he nibbled hesitantly on the turkey.
“Mum,” Penny shyly looked up at her mother, “this is Mordred—”
“Ah! So that’s what this is about,” Hermione hissed, tilting her gaze up and likely cursing out her own mate, “Possessive arse…”
Penelope’s eyes widened, not used to hearing her mother talk badly about her father, “Mum?”
“Your father and I will discuss it later,” Hermione dismissed the matter, looking back down at her daughter’s friend, “I was wondering when I would get to meet you, Mr. Deschain. Penny’s sister has told me a bit about you. Perhaps you could shift and we could talk this over like adults. Penny could also inform you about our “No Transfiguration at the Dinner Table” Rule.
Mordred curtly nodded, hopping off the table and transforming into his usual form: a tall, lean man in his mid-twenties with long dark hair and darker eyes. His black jeans hugged his rather thin pelvis, held up by a belt that needed tightening. The dark gray shirt he usually wore looked to be baggier than it usually did, making Penelope even more concerned about his health. Even his face looked more gaunt, his eyes being surrounded by large purple bags, the mark of someone who hadn’t slept in days.
He grimaced at the two women, extending his hand out for Hermione to shake, “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Gray—”
“Mordred, you sod!” Penelope grabbed his arms and forced him into a chair, setting a fork in his hand, “Eat, you stubborn ass!”
“Penny, love,” Hermione admonished her, “Be gentle with him. He was the one who left you after mating, and your bond is making him suffer for it. Be glad he had the sense to come back to you at all. I am pleased to meet you finally, Mordred. You may call me Hermione.”
Penelope’s eyes widened, her ability plucking the words out of her mother’s mind, “You think he’s my Other-gifted, my soulmate?”
“Judging from what I’ve seen, between you two,” Hermione crossed her arms, peeved that her daughter was poking into her mind, “I don’t just think it, I know it.”
“You’re not mad that I had sex with him?” Penny began skeptically, realizing that she already knew they mated.
“Hn, your father mated me after only knowing me for a few weeks. The fact that yours waited as long as he did is commendable. Your age difference will be seen as odd now, but the attention on it will fade as you two age.
“Mum, I’m pregnant!” Penelope finally burst, not understanding the stark difference in behavior between her parents.
Hermione froze, “That, I didn’t know… May I?”
Penelope nodded, letting her mother come forward and place her warm, soft hands underneath her shirt, feeling the skin of her still-flat belly. Hermione concentrated, calling upon her wandless healing magic to possibly see her future grandchildren. After a moment of gazing at the little clusters of frozen cells, she looked to Mordred, “You work fast, Mr. Deschain, but may I ask that you refrain from breeding her again, at least until she’s had a few years to do as she pleases. College first, or maybe that apprenticeship with that magical portrait commissioner.
“Of course,” Mordred rushed, digging into his food with enough poise to be respectful, but just barely enough to not be seen as savagely hungry, “Anything for our family.”
“Good,” Hermione nodded, taking Mordred's left hand and looking into his eyes, “Welcome to our family. Since my mate is being an arse, I’d better tell you now.”
“Thank you,” Mordred nodded relievedly, “Really, I mean it. We were both miserable, being apart as we were.”
“Well,” Hermione smiled, “You can stay here as long as you like. You’re all but married now,” her smile turned watery and she wiped a tear away, “My little love is all grown up, now.”
“Mum, please don’t cry. Dad already cried and I couldn’t keep it together afterwards,” Penny rambled, wiping her own tears.
“Talk to him, love,” Hermione pleaded, “He misses you, and you know how he gets when he feels like he isn't good enough.”
“Alright, I will tomorrow,” Penelope nodded, watching Mordred take the last few bites of his food, “Mordy, you can eat more tomorrow… We both need sleep,” she looked to her mother, who had a knowing smirk on her face, “Sleep, mum.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Hermione shrugged, “but you’re right. After such a lengthy fast, Mr. Deschain, you ought to be eating smaller meals to start, rather than gorging.”
Penelope got up from the table, dragging Mordred along with her as she headed for the stairs.
“I will be sure to do that,” Mordred nodded, “Good night, Hermione.”
The older witch nodded, “Thank you, I wish you pleasant dreams. Goodnight.”
The bathroom was open when they reached the top of the stairs, allowing her to guide her mate inside and let the two of them go about their nightly routines. Mordred eyed the smaller jacuzzi tub with eager eyes, “Oh, Darlin’...”
“No,” Penelope warned, “Tomorrow, maybe, but you look like you can hardly stand, let alone bounce me up and down on your cock like a trampoline and get water everywhere.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Mordred countered blithely and Penelope glared at him, as well as the new tent in his pants.
“No, Mordy,” she scolded around her toothbrush, the white minty foam of her toothpaste making her look rabid, “Sleep first, please,” she grabbed his hand, “for me?”
“Fine…” her mate sighed, taking his rather lengthy problem out of his pants to relieve himself. Penelope fought not to look, succeeding for the most part until she caught sight of it in the mirror. Her mouth began to salivate more and she was quick to finish brushing her teeth before it became more apparent.
“Do you have to go?” he voiced when he was washing his hands, “I’ll be the perfect gentleman, scout’s honor,” he promised, holding his fingers up in a symbol that she was pretty sure wasn’t what he was supposed to be going for.
“Yeah… I’m pretty sure you’re flipping off some foreign country right now. I really don’t think you were ever a boy scout.”
Mordred laughed, peeking over his shoulder to see the delicate folds between his mate’s legs as she sat down. A tell-tale slickness shined on her skin, making him smirk. So you aren’t as unaffected as you seem, Penny…
“No, but my dam did teach me to shoot guns and hunt vermin in the Darkness. It was a bit like that, I think…”
“Mordy!” Penelope squeaked upon noticing his peeping, “Don’t look at me.”
He huffed humorously, looking away while she finished up, “It’s hard not to... Your scent calls to me in more ways than one.”
Penelope rolled her eyes, getting up to wash her hands, “My father says that one a lot to my mum, and she says it’s bullshit.”
“You wouldn’t get it,” he shook his head, “My sire told me that it’s a male thing. Given that there are so few of our species and the males greatly outnumber the females, not to mention that we are smaller than the females, we have special scenting abilities that help us find the best mates, especially ones who won’t kill or eat us. You’re also more human, and that doesn’t exactly help either.”
As soon as they opened the door, they were greeted by another duo. Just as tall as his father, and nearly as similar in looks to the older eldritch, Robert leaned against the wall behind him, the light catching his own amber orbs in a way that made them glow with mirth. Tom stood next to him, a small glare on his face as he surveyed the newcomer with his perceptive dark eyes. He crossed his pajama-clad arms, mirroring his mate’s stance.
“Ah, so you’re the pervert who knocked-up Penny…” Robert began, making his sister blanch and gasp offendedly, “I’m Robert, but others call me ‘Robbie, Bobbie, Rob, Bob, Bobert, Pennywise Jr., Pennywise III, PJ, or ‘You Little Shit, Get Out of My Room!’ I respond to most other things, to be honest… Oh, and since you’re staying here, this is Tom, my mate. He used to be a pretty bad guy in his previous life, but he can still break a lot of your shit in this one, you feel me?” Tom smirked at his description, “Precisely.”
“Uhh… Nice to meet you?” Mordred grimaced, shaking the two male’s hands, “Don’t worry, I’ve vowed to take care of my mate. She’s my world.”
“Great, thanks, for the lackluster intimidation. He's not going anywhere, so you can stop with that,” Penny spat, pushing past her brothers and taking her own mate into hers and Rose’s room. She quietly shut and locked the door behind her, leading her exhausted mate towards her bed. However, there was already a lump in the bed, and a shaggy head of short auburn curls and fuzzy triangular ears poking out of the blankets.
“Roman!” Penny whined, marching over to where her brother was curled up and not so nicely shoving him out of the bed.
The fifteen-year-old yelped when he hit the ground, jumping to his elongated feet in a second, “Penny…” he whined, rubbing his sore arm, “What’d you push me for? Oh!”
The wolf-boy came forward, nose first, and sniffed at Mordred’s neck before hugging him close, “Welcome to the pack, brother! I’ve heard wolves and crows have a…” he trailed off, looking to Penny, “What’s that thing called again? He finds prey for me and I let him have some after I kill it...”
“A symbiotic relationship,” Penny drawled, rubbing her temples.
“Yes!” he looked back to Mordred, whisky eyes turning amber at the idea of a hunt, “We should go hunting together sometime! It’s really fun!”
“Alright…” Mordred nodded and the boy yipped happily, wagging his tail like the puppy he was.
“Go to bed, Rome-ee,” Penelope ordered in a sickly-sweet voice, trying to channel their mother.
Roman scowled at the nickname, but nonetheless walked to the door, “Fine, fine, you meanie… Goodnight, new brother!” he called, shutting the door behind him as he left.
Penelope sighed, unfurling her covers and magically changing in to her pajamas. She was too tired to make the no-maj effort to physically change them. Mordred did the same, sliding to the side of the bed furthest from the door. He pat the bed’s other side, giving her a little eyebrow wiggle as a tease.
“No…” she warned him, “Rose could come in at any moment,” Penny laid down on her side of the bed, but was quickly swept up into her mate’s embrace.
Mordred licked her ear, his dam’s accent coming out in his words, “All I’m hearing, Darlin’, is that your sister ain’t here, so I don’t see why I can’t have you until then. At least let me get inside you, then I can sleep.”
“If my father catches us, it’s on your head,” Penny warned him again, both hating and loving the way the touch of his hand lifting her knee up had her tingling with anticipation. Slick began leaking in droves from her cunny, enough that she felt like it was coming out in clumps.
“Believe me, I know,” Mordred nipped at her ear’s cartilage, vanishing his pants and using his tentacles to guide his member to her leaking hole. To his surprise, he slid right inside with only a bit of initial dryness, “You’re so wet, Darlin’. Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know…” Penny wheezed, the pleasure of finally being full taking its toll on her, “You feel so good, Mordy…”
“Yeah?” he began to pump his hips, humping her soft little bum with his writhing tentacles. The tiny appendages lengthened, wrapping around the young woman’s supple thighs and beginning to terrorize her folds. Her clit preened under their attention, turning more swollen and red with each touch of their suction cups.
“Yeah…” she whined, her breath coming in high pitch gasps, “Mordy, I’m gonna…”
“So soon, Darlin’?” Mordred teased despite feeling close himself. He brought his hand under his mate’s nightie, pinching and rubbing at the hard little nipples he found there.
“I… I… Ohhh~” Penelope groaned at the trio of stimulating sensations, turning her head to kiss Mordred on the lips. Slick burst from between their connected genitals, dampening the covers beneath them in a few spots, “Mordred…”
The older hybrid groaned his own orgasm, his knot swelling quickly and locking inside her generously slick channel. Another spurt of protein-based seed left his swollen cock, feeding their little clutch where they were sleeping peacefully inside Penelope’s womb, “Oh yes…” he rasped, rubbing his mate’s full belly.
Pressing soft kisses to Penelope’s neck, he finally laid down and cuddled up to her backside, fully intent on staying inside her while he slept, “Goodnight, Darlin’...”
“Goodnight, Mordy…”
After nearly twenty minutes after they both fell asleep, Rose came into the room and saw her younger sister curled up with Illvermorny’s sexy junior groundskeeper. Grabbing her camera, she took a picture of the two of them tangled up together. It wasn’t until she got closer that she noticed how oddly connected they were at their middles. Her mouth opened in a scandalized yet teasing smile, “Oh, Penny, you whore…” she whispered to herself, “Daddy’s gonna break your little boy-toy in two when he finds out about this…”
“Delete that photo, or I’ll make you schizophrenic for the day again…” Rose jumped, her eyes widening as they met her sister’s angry amber eyes.
“No, no! I’ll delete it, promise,” the curly-haired girl whined, not wanting to hear the disembodied voices or see things and people who weren’t really there. She thought she’d lost her mind the last time Penny had gotten so angry with her. After deleting the picture off the camera, she sat on her bed, watching her sister settle back into her mate’s warm body. Mordred, entirely dead to the world, simply purred and curled into her back.
“Is there something you needed?” Penny rasped, noticing that Rose was still watching her, “I can’t exactly get up at the moment.”
Rose gasped, “You mean he…”
“Yes.”
“Does it hurt?”
“It did the first time, but now… it feels like I’m full, content…” Penny thought, nearly purring as her sleeping mate kneaded her breast, “He’s cuddly…”
“Oh…” Rose nodded, running her fingers through her hair, “I’m glad… I’m glad he makes you happy. You’ve been so sad lately… I thought… I thought he rejected you...”
Penny snorted at the thought, sleepily shaking her head, “No… quite the opposite, really.”
“You’re pregnant!?” Rose burst as quietly as she could and Penelope winced, nodding.
“Shh… sleeping mate here, you know…” she scolded and Rose nodded sheepishly.
“Sorry, it’s just… I thought I was going to be the one to get pregnant first, aside from Tom of course, and maybe Hugo... You always seemed above it, to be honest… the mating, the breeding, all of that sexy animalistic crap that our eldritch sides really love. I could tell Mr. Deschain liked you, like really liked you, but I didn’t think he would be so… forward with you.” Rose tilted her head curiously and Mordred snored, rumbling his purr and rolling both himself and Penny to their opposite sides.
“Well, he was,” Penny remarked, craning her neck to look at her sister again, “and don’t worry… There’s someone out there for you, too…”
“Thanks, Penny,” Rose smiled.