When it comes to Spider-Man vs Zoro, the wall crawler comes out on top!
Also, smut to start, so you can skip it if you want.
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Fin's POV
Her hand stayed firm on my groin, palm pressing through the loose fabric of my camp trousers. No teasing circles. Just direct pressure on my length.
I met her yellow, unblinking eyes. They looked as though she were hunting prey. Reaching down, covered her hand with mine and squeezed once. Not gentle but enough to let her feel I wasn't backing down.
She didn't flinch either. Her lips curved the smallest fraction.
I pulled her closer by the waistband of her bra. The material bunched under my fingers. She let me drag her the last step until our bodies pressed flush, her chest almost pressed on my torso. Her nipples were already stiff against the fabric, scraping my shirt when she breathed.
No words were exchanged.
I unhooked her bra and yanked it off. She raised her arms to help, efficient even now. The cloth hit the dirt. Moonlight hit green-grey skin stretched tight over muscle, the faint ridges along her shoulders and ribs catching shadow. Her breasts were small, firm, and dark nipples peaked from the night air or from whatever she felt looking at me.
I palmed one, thumb dragging rough over the tip. She inhaled sharply through her nose. Her hand on my cock tightened in response, stroking once down the shaft through cloth, slow and deliberate.
I pushed her back until her shoulders met the oak trunk again. Bark scraped her skin. She didn't complain. Her legs parted just enough for me to step between them.
My mouth found her throat. I bit down where pulse hammered, not breaking skin, just enough to mark. She growled low in her chest, fingers digging into my shoulders. I sucked hard, tasted salt and the faint metallic edge.
Her free hand shoved at my trousers. The drawstring gave as cool air hit my cock when she freed it, wrapping her fist around the base and stroking up once, firm, calluses catching on the head. Precome smeared her palm. She used it, slicking the next pump.
I groaned against her neck, and she twisted her wrist on the upstroke. My hips jerked forward on instinct.
"Patience, k'chakhi." Her voice was rough. "You will take what I give."
I didn't argue. Instead, I shoved my own hand between her thighs. Her sleeping trousers were loose, easy to push down her hips. No undergarments. Just wet heat waiting.
My fingers slid through folds already swollen and slick. She was soaked,d and with two fingers, I pushed inside without warning. Her inner walls were hot and tight, it clamped down immediately, trying to pull me deeper.
She hissed. Hips rocked once, fucking herself onto my hand.
I curled my fingers, found the rough patch inside that made her thighs tremble. Pumped steadily. In. Out. Thumb found her clit, pressed flat, rubbed in tight circles.
Her grip on my cock faltered for a second, but then she retaliated, stroking faster, twisting at the head each time her fist reached the top. I felt the pulse in her palm matching the throb in my shaft.
I pulled my fingers free. She snarled at the loss.
I grabbed her thigh, hooked it over my hip. The angle opened her completely. I lined up, the head of my cock nudging her entrance, slick and hot.
One deep thrust, all the way through.
She took me to the root without flinching. Her cunt gripped like a fist, rippling around me. I stayed buried, letting her adjust, feeling every flutter.
Her nails scored my back, enough to draw blood. The sting sharpened everything.
I pulled back slowly. Almost out. Then slammed back in. The wet slap of skin on skin cut through the night insects.
Again.
Again.
Each thrust rocked her against the tree. Bark scraped her shoulders raw. She didn't care. Her hips met mine, matching the rhythm. Legs locked around my waist, heels digging into my ass.
I fucked her as we fought. Her breath came in short bursts against my ear.
"Harder."
I gave it. Slamming in so deep, my balls slapped her ass with every stroke. The angle dragged my shaft along her front wall, grinding against that spot inside. She clenched harder each time, milking me.
Sweat slicked us both. Her cunt dripped down my thighs as the obscene wet sounds filled the clearing.
I reached between us, found her clit again. Pinched it. Rolled it between thumb and finger. She bucked, and a choked sound escaped her throat.
Not quite a moan, more akin to a snarl.
I kept the pressure, rubbing fast while I pounded into her. Her walls fluttered then clamped down like iron.
She came hard. Body locking, cunt spasming around my cock, trying to pull the orgasm out of me. Her nails raked down my back again, fresh lines of fire. Her teeth sank into my shoulder, muffling whatever sound tried to escape.
I didn't stop thrusting. Rode her through it. Each stroke pushed more slick out around my shaft. When the spasms eased, she shoved me back half a step. My cock slipped free, glistening, throbbing.
"Again," she ordered.
She turned, braced her forearms against the tree, ass pushed out. Legs spread. Cunt still swollen, dripping.
I stood. Gripped her hips. Slammed back inside.
She arched. Head thrown back.
Her hand reached back, grabbed my wrist, and guided it around to her front. I found her nipple again, pinching and rubbing in time with my thrusts.
She pushed back to meet me. Ass smacking against my hips. The rhythm turned frantic.
I felt the coil in my gut tighten. Heat pooling low.
She clenched deliberately, squeezing my cock on the outstroke as she came once more.
That did it.
I buried deep. Came hard. Pulse after pulse flooding her. Groaning low against her neck.
She kept rocking back, milking every drop, until I was spent.
We stayed locked together a moment. Breathing ragged. Her walls are still fluttering around me.
I pulled out slowly. Come leaked from her, thick and white, dripping down her inner thigh in slow streaks. She didn't let me step back.
Lae'zel spun fast. One hand clamped my throat, not choking, just pinning me against the same oak she'd braced on moments ago. Her other hand shoved my trousers down further, exposing me completely. My cock hung heavy, still slick with her and me, twitching from the sudden cold air.
She pressed close. Chest to chest. Her nipples dragged across my shirt as she leaned in. Her mouth found my ear.
"You think that ends it?" Her voice scraped low. "You spill inside me and walk away like some soft human?"
Her grip on my throat tightened a fraction, nothing painful.
I didn't fight it. My hands stayed at my sides. Let her decide.
She dropped to one knee. Mouth closed over my cock without warning. I could feel the hot breath on it. She took me deep in one swallow, throat working around the head, tongue flat and pressing hard along the underside. The taste of us mixed on her. She didn't care. Sucked harder. Cheeks hollowed. One hand gripped the base, stroking what her mouth couldn't reach. The other stayed on my hip, nails digging in to keep me still.
I groaned as my hand instinctively moved to her head. Fingers tangled in the short ridges of her hair.
She pulled off with a wet pop. Looked up. Eyes sharp.
"No hands. You take."
She swallowed me again. Deeper this time. Nose pressed to my pelvis. Held there. Throat flexed. Milked me with rhythmic swallows.
My knees buckled a little. I braced one hand on the tree behind me. The bark bit into my palm.
She bobbed now. Fast. Messy. Spit slicked her chin. Dropped down her neck. She took me to the root every time, gagged once, and kept going. The sound was obscene. Wet suction. Low growls in her throat, vibrating through my shaft.
I felt the build again. Too soon after the last. My hips jerked forward once. She let me. Then pinned me harder against the tree with her shoulder.
She pulled off. Stroked me fast with her fist. Thumb pressed the slit, smearing the fresh bead of precome.
"You finish when I say."
She stood. Shoved me down to sit on the dirt with her legs spread. She straddled me but didn't sink yet. Just hovered. Her cunt brushed the head of my cock.
I looked up at her. Sweat beaded on her brow. Come still leaked from her, mixing with fresh wetness. She reached down. Guided me to her entrance. Sank slow. Inch by inch. Her walls gripped tight again. She took me fully, ass flush against my thighs.
She didn't move right away. Just sat there, as if preparing.
"You remind me of someone," I said. Voice rough. Quiet. "This girl named Gi-"
Lae'zel cut me off, her eyes narrowed.
"I am not your soft human memory." Her hips rolled once. Slow grind. "I will take what I want. And I keep it until I am satisfied."
She started moving. Up. Down. Slamming her hips. Each drop forced a grunt from me. Her cunt clenched on every upstroke, trying to keep me inside. Wet sounds filled the clearing again. Louder now. Her thighs slapped mine. Ass bounced with force.
She leaned forward. Hands braced on my shoulders as nails dug in. Used me for leverage. The angle dragged my cock along her front wall. She hissed every time it hit deep.
I grabbed her hips, and she didn't stop me this time.
Her pace turned brutal. Chasing her own release again. Breasts bounced with each thrust. Nipples hard as sweat rolled down the ridges of her stomach.
She reached between us. Fingers found her clit. Rubbed fast. Circles. Rough.
Her walls fluttered. Then clamped.
She came again, her body locking. Cunt pulsing around me as she was milking hard. Her thighs trembled. She kept grinding through it, seemingly drawing it out.
When the spasms slowed, she didn't stop. Kept riding. Slower now. Deliberate. Dragging every inch.
"You will spill again," she said. Voice hoarse. "Inside me. Until I decide you are empty."
I felt it building.
I thrust up once. Met her drop. Buried deep.
She clenched deliberately.
I came. Hard. Flooding her again. Groaning low against her neck.
She rode through it. Milked me dry. Kept moving until I softened inside her. Then slowed. Stopped.
She stayed seated, but her hand came up, gripping my jaw. Forcing me to look at her.
"You are mine tonight, istik. Do not forget it."
I didn't answer. My chest was heaving.
She lifted off slowly. Come poured out. Ran down my thighs and pooled in the dirt.
Lae'zel didn't stand right away. She stayed straddling me a second longer, knees planted in the earth on either side of my hips, looking down with those unblinking yellow eyes.
Her breathing was still heavy, chest rising and falling, sweat shining on the ridges of her skin. Then she shifted. Not away. Down.
She lowered herself beside me, onto her back in the dirt next to mine. One arm flung out, the other resting across her stomach. Legs still parted slightly, thighs slick, the mess between them catching moonlight. She turned her head toward me.
Before I could move, she reached over. Fingers gripped the front of my shirt. Yanked me down.
Her mouth crashed into mine. Slow this time. Tongue pushed past my lips, claimed the space like she still owned it. I kissed back. Matching the pressure. One hand came up to cup the back of her neck, thumb pressing against the base of her skull.
She broke it after a long minute. Pulled back just enough that our breaths mixed. Her wet, swollen lips stayed close. I looked at her. Saw the way her chest still heaved, the faint tremor in her thighs, she tried to hide by pressing them together.
Pain.
Everywhere.
...But I still got it.
My lower back was killing me, though. I could feel scratches everywhere, and I think there's a bite mark...down there.
It looks like the muscle memory of my old life came with me; that was nice to know. However, I wonder if this counted as losing my virginity.
Again.
"Exhausted already?" I said. Voice low. Flat. "Thought githyanki were supposed to outlast lesser races. You fought harder than this in training."
Her eyes narrowed. She shoved my shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to make a point.
"Do not mistake restraint for weakness." She turned her face away, stared up at the canopy. "I allowed you to finish twice. That required...control. More than you possess."
I let out a short breath. Not quite a laugh. "Control. Right. That's why you're lying here leaking instead of standing."
She hissed through her teeth. Rolled onto her side to face me fully. One hand came up, pressed flat against my chest, pinning me down like she needed to remind me who was in charge even now.
"I took what I wanted," she said. "You performed adequately. For a soft-blooded human. Do not let it swell your head."
Her fingers flexed against my shirt. Nails scraped through fabric. She didn't move her hand away.
I looked at her. Really looked. The flush was still high on her cheeks. The way her breathing hadn't quite settled. The faint shake in her arm where she braced herself.
"You came three times," I said. "Twice on my cock. Once on my fingers before that. And you're calling it adequate performance?"
Her jaw tightened. She leaned in closer. Nose almost touching mine.
"Numbers mean nothing. I decide when it ends. Not you." Her voice dropped lower. "And it ended because I chose to stop. Not because my body failed."
I held her stare. Didn't blink.
She broke first. Looked away again. Toward the trees. Hand still on my chest.
"...You are not entirely useless," she muttered. Barely audible. "Your stamina was... sufficient. For now."
I chuckled, "High praise."
I didn't push. Just let the silence sit.
She shifted, finally loosening her hold, and propped herself up on one elbow. Her naked chest is in view.
I felt her gaze travel over me, like she was already re-evaluating yesterday's conclusions.
"You ache," she stated.
"Insightful."
"You should," she added. "Your body learned."
I rolled onto my back with a groan, staring up at the canopy overhead. Golden rays of light were filtering through the leaves. Morning. Camp would be waking soon. Gods help me.
"Lae'zel," I said quietly, "if anyone asks, I tripped. Repeatedly. Down a hill."
She snorted. "Weak lie. Acceptable."
She leaned down, giving me a deep, sensual kiss, her tongue through my mouth, then rose smoothly to her feet like nothing hurt at all. Of course she did.
I stayed where I was for another second, letting the ache settle into something manageable. I knew if I got up, I would be able to return to this feeling for a while, this sense of...tranquility if that was the right word.
Minthara was tied up in our camp, and Halsin was still holding out in the Goblin Camp. The party was only going to get bigger from her, so that meant more questions...many questions.
And I was starting the day sore, exhausted, and somehow more grounded than I had been in a long time.
I closed my eyes once more, just for a breath.
Then I pushed myself up.
...
"Unbind me, you spineless surface vermin," Minthara snarled, her voice sharp with venom. "Or I will flay the skin from your throats and feed it to the worgs!"
I blinked once, letting that settle.
Karlach let out a low whistle. "Oh, good. She's awake and friendly."
Minthara's head snapped toward the sound. Her eyes took in the camp in a heartbeat, the ring of unfamiliar faces, the ropes biting into her wrists and ankles. Then her gaze locked onto me, hard and burning.
"You," she said. "I should have killed you where you stood."
"Morning to you, Minthara~!" I replied mildly.
She twisted against her bindings, testing them. When they didn't give, irritation flashed across her face, quick and ugly.
"This is a mistake," Minthara said. "Whatever illusion you think you are weaving, it will end in blood."
Shadowheart crossed her arms. "She says that like it's meant to impress us."
Wyll stepped forward, shoulders squared, his voice tight with restrained anger. "You led raids that slaughtered innocents. You should consider yourself fortunate to be breathing."
Minthara laughed. "Fortunate? I am blessed by the Absolute. You are nothing but stray animals pretending at purpose."
Durge tilted her head slightly. "Interesting," she murmured. "She still sounds very killable."
Alfira made a small, panicked noise and edged closer to Karlach, peeking around her arm while making sure not to touch her. "Um. Just checking. She can't… bite, right?"
Karlach grinned. "She can try."
Lae'zel stepped forward then, presence heavy, her shadow falling across Minthara's face. "You were defeated," she said flatly. "Alone. By him."
Minthara's gaze flicked to Lae'zel, then returned to me.
"He fought without hesitation, a noble feat done by retched hands," Minthara said.
Shadowheart snorted. "Lucky him."
I crouched in front of her, bringing us eye to eye. Up close, she looked every bit the predator she claimed to be, even bound and clearly outnumbered.
"You're alive because I chose it," I said. "You're here because the Absolute lied to you."
Her lips curled. "The Absolute does not lie."
"It does," I said simply.
For a moment, no one spoke. The fire cracked, sending sparks up into the morning air. Minthara searched my face, not for mercy, but for certainty.
"Then speak," she said at last, her voice low and dangerous. "Explain why I wake bound among enemies instead of kneeling before my god."
I held her gaze and smiled, thin and humourless. "Because your god is fake. And I'll make you see that."
Behind me, Karlach cracked her knuckles, the sound loud in the quiet. "Told you today was gonna be complicated."
Minthara sat with her hands still bound, posture rigid, chin lifted in defiance.
"So," she said at last, voice cool and sharp, "this is where you decide what to do with me."
I huffed a quiet laugh. "You say that like I've got a rack and a checklist."
Her eyes narrowed. "You joke poorly for a man holding another's life."
"Yeah," I admitted. "Perhaps it's just me coping with something."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched as she held herself as if nothing could touch her. Fear was a foreign concept.
The tadpoles disagreed.
That familiar pressure brushed the back of my mind, not intrusive, not demanding. Just… present. And through it, something bled through that didn't match the woman standing in front of me.
Fear.
Not wild panic. Not terror. Just uncertainty. The sharp, quiet dread of someone who didn't know if she would see another dawn. She hid it well. No doubt growing as the drow taught her how.
I studied her for a second longer than necessary.
Then I spoke. "What are you thinking about?"
Minthara scoffed. "You insult me further by asking?" Her lips curled. "You could simply reach into my mind and take the answer. That is what True Souls do, even heretics like you"
"I could," I agreed.
Her eyes flicked up, sharp. Curious despite herself.
"But I won't," I continued. "I want to hear your voice. Not what your parasite thinks. Not what mine pulls out of you. I want you to know what you're thinking when you say it."
That gave her pause.
She shifted slightly, the first crack in that rigid stillness. "I feel… different," she said slowly. "Your presence does not press. It does not command."
I leaned back against one of the tent poles. "You noticed."
"I noticed the moment I woke," she said. Her brow furrowed, frustration bleeding through her composure. "All of you are True Souls. And yet…" Her voice dropped. "Something is wrong."
Her breathing changed and became shallower.
"The Absolute," she said quietly. "It owns my mind. I cannot remember a time when her voice did not fill it" Her jaw tightened. "Except now...now the Absolute was silent"
My chest tightened at that. I said nothing, letting her follow the thought to its end on her own.
"Ever since the goblin fest," she went on, slower now, each word weighed. "Ever since you struck me down and dragged me from its sight… it has grown silent. And now, I only hear your breath and your voice."
It was strange, you know. I remember bits and pieces of this scene, how her words replayed in the game. Such a devotion being questioned was never going to be easy for her. But her eyes were staring at me with such sadness.
I hated that, looking at these eyes of sadness again.
Minthara then looked towards the ground, "This is blasphemy...but so much that has happened since I left the Underdark is like a dream of somebody else's life. I...do not know myself anymore.
The confession hung there, stripped of the venom she'd spat earlier. Her eyes stayed fixed on the dirt between us.
"That's what happens when the leash goes slack," I said. "You feel the collar for the first time."
Her head jerked up. Eyes locked on mine again. Searching.
"You speak as if you have worn one," she said.
I held her gaze. "I have."
The camp went still. Karlach's engine ticked once. Shadowheart's arms uncrossed. Wyll shifted his weight. Even Lae'zel's stare sharpened from across the fire as did Durge's. Alfira covered her mouth, seemingly in shock.
I kept my voice level. No drama. Just facts.
"Twenty years I was held, underground. Soul magic shackled to my leg, in a prison that I could never escape. Every pull reminded me I wasn't free, and every second I was awake, it reminded me."
Minthara's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe you endured twenty years bound by soul chains?"
"I don't expect anything." I stood slowly. "I lived it. The silence came after they thought I was broken. When the chain finally snapped, and I was truly given freedom, the quiet was louder than the pain ever was."
Her jaw tightened. She looked at the ropes on her own wrists. Then back at me.
"The Absolute's voice was never a chain," she said. But the words sounded thinner now.
"It was," I told her. "You just never felt the tug until it stopped."
Karlach's voice was low, "You never told us that part."
"Didn't need to." I glanced at her. Then at the others. "Some things stay buried until they matter."
Shadowheart's voice cut in. "And it matters now because...?"
Wyll could only look with pity, "Gods.."
"Because she's hearing the same silence I did." I looked back at Minthara. "And she knows what comes next if she keeps pretending the voice is still there."
"The silence is worse," she said quietly. Almost to herself. "I thought it was punishment. A test of faith."
"It's not." I crouched once more. Closer this time. "It's the truth finally getting through. No orders. No purpose handed to you. Just you. And whatever you choose to do with the quiet."
She met my eyes. Longer than before.
"You survived it," she said. Not a question.
"Barely." I stood again. "But I did. And I'm still here."
I stayed crouched in front of her, elbows on my knees, watching the way her shoulders stayed rigid even as her voice cracked on the last word.
"I... do not know myself anymore." Minthara exhaled slowly.
"Remove the ropes," she said. Voice steady now. "I will not run. Not yet."
Karlach snorted. "You expect us to just trust that?"
Minthara's gaze flicked to her. Then back to me. "I expect him to decide. He is the one who broke the leash."
I studied her a second longer.
Then I nodded once, flicking my finger; the rope sliced clean. Minthara rubbed the marks on her skin. Stood slowly. Back straight. Chin up. But she didn't reach for a weapon. Didn't bolt.
When she spoke again, her voice stayed low, almost careful.
"Ever since you knocked me unconscious," she said, "my mind has been a storm. Raw emotion. Rage. Doubt. Fear. I told myself it was the Absolute speaking through me. Testing me. Punishing me. I welcomed it as divine will."
She paused. Swallowed once.
"But the storm never carried orders. No commands. No certainty. Only noise. And through that noise, I felt something else. Something retreating."
Her eyes lifted to mine
"It feared you. All of you. Most of all, it feared the thing you carry. The artifact that keeps its voice at bay."
Karlach shifted behind me. I felt the heat from her engine rise, then settle again. No one spoke.
Minthara continued. "A god does not fear mortals. A god does not cower behind silence. Yet this one did. And now the silence is all that remains."
She looked around the camp. At the faces watching her. At the ropes lying cut on the ground. At me.
"I need time," she said. "To think on this. To sift through the storm without anyone pressing. Without questions. Without your eyes on me."
I studied her. No tremble in her voice. No plea. Just the flat statement.
Shadowheart spoke first. "You expect us to leave you unbound and unwatched?"
Minthara's lips thinned. "I expect nothing. I ask. If you refuse, bind me again. Kill me. Do what you will. But if you want me to listen, if you want me to choose, then give me the space to do it."
I glanced at the group.
Lae'zel met my eyes. Gave a single, short nod.
Wyll exhaled slowly. "This could go very wrong very fast."
"I know," I said.
Karlach shrugged. "Your call, soldier."
I looked back at Minthara.
"Walk to the edge of camp," I told her. "Stay in sight. No weapons. No sudden moves. You sit. You think. We watch but don't disturb. That's the deal."
She held my gaze a second longer.
Then she nodded once.
She walked past us. Slow steps. Back straight. She stopped near the treeline, far enough for distance, close enough we could reach her in seconds. She lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the ground. Hands resting on her knees. Face turned toward the forest.
The tadpole brushed my mind again. Faint. No words. Just the echo of that storm she described. Chaos. Then quiet. Then the same small image: a drow alone in darkness. No leash. No voice.
I turned away.
"Keep eyes on her," I said to the group. "No one approaches unless she tries something."
Lae'zel moved to a better vantage point without a word.
I walked to the fire and took a seat.
My day was only getting started.
...
End of Chapter!
Sorry for the wait again, but you should be used to this by now. This was the first time I've ever written smut, so what did you think? I'd thought it would make sense given I'd been away for a bit, so this was my apology, I guess.
This chapter was more focused on Minthara and some growth for the team, as Fin reveals a little of his story in hopes of saving the Drow. Anyways, I'm gonna get started on catching up again, but as always,s please comment on anything, I love replying to you guys.
Bye!