#prowls for silk

[tikiki05]

Rating the ATSV adults based on how I think they’d be at a drag show (heavily based on one of my fanfics)

Rio: 300/10- Super enthusiastic, tips a lot, all the queens love her

Jeff: 6/10- A little uncomfortable, not really his scene, but having a good time with Rio

Aaron: 10/10- Fantastic ally, tips, this is so canon to me you guys you don’t get it-

Miguel:  8/10- Also a little uncomfortable, definitely not his scene; gets flirted with and teased a lot by the queens but he laughs and takes it gracefully

Peter B: 7/10- Supporting by getting food and drinks from the bar, a lot of the jokes go over his head but he still laughs, maybe just a *tiny* bit trying too hard as an ally, just an itty bitty bit though

Hobie: 12/10- Gets dressed in drag too, sings along to the songs and cheers loudly, brings great vibes

Jessica: 9/10- Sings along also, having a good time with Rio and Jeff (yk ignoring how she helped hunt down their son hhhh-)

Ben: 9/10- Probably gets drunk but has a great time and doesn’t cause trouble; also gets flirted and teased a lot by the queens and relishes in it

said fanfic✨✨- Prowls for Silk

[tikiki05]

Aaron and Vinex

poolverine pt 3

[screampied]

“you, stop . . moving,” sukuna prowls, the base of his chin sat on top of your thighs.

you were in your usual spot, waiting for him to return from whatever battle had him occupied for half the day. moments later, you’re now slouched back against sukuna’s throne with a very grumpy, pouty demon lying his head against the center of your lap. before you could even part your lips to ask him what happened this time, sukuna grumbles. “bad. very bad day, little one.”

humming, you strum a few feathery fingers toward the pink roots of his hair before softly digging a path through his tender scalp. “oh. well, wanna talk about it?”

“no,” he replies gruffly with an abrupt quickness, his pout growing the more he remembered about his day. however, as your fingers continued to comb through his silk tresses, sukuna buried his face between your thighs. “i need… to recharge.”

“most people would drink water or eat somet-”

“shut up.”

“…..”

slowly peeking from between the warmth of your glued legs, sukuna notices the pausing halt on your fingers that played with his hair and he scowls. oh, he’s pouting, and with a cute, annoyed grumble, he avoids your gaze.

“i told you to shut up, not . . to stop doing that. go on. hmph.”

rolling your eyes, you gave him a subtle head pat before hearing a loud sigh exit between your thighs. he’s usually never this clingy, and you remained quiet - wondering just what happened in his day for him to behave so … needy.

your fingers resumed its maze through his scalp tenderly, and his long lashes fluttered close - a soft content sigh dragging away from his thinly parted lips. in a way, you had to admit — this looked silly.

a huge, burly thousand-year-old curse of a demon positioned between your thighs. it was merely comical, and yet, sukuna could really care less.

the king of curses didn’t have a weakness - except you.

“mmgh-” he’d grunt, tilting his head to the left before he felt your thumb gingerly scratching behind his ear. for a second, you think you saw his nose twitching too. sukuna’s pink brows were still forcibly furrowed together, perfectly expressing his stubborn frustration before he let off another noise.

this time though - it’s different . .

it’s a subtle, cooing ‘rrrrr’ sound that’s deeply low. the entire sound alone from sukuna makes your thighs shake a bit and you look down at him with a perplexed look.

“ ‘kuna?” you murmured, the swirling circles of your finger stopping once again. a cunning grin gradually creased against your lips before you gasped. “did you just … purr?”

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“that noise you just made.”

sukuna rolls his eyes, his scratchy voice a bit muffled from how he nearly sank between the arc of your thighs. “pft. i was clearing my throat, obviously. you humans and your delusions-”

“nooo, i heard it,” you cheekily simpered, pinching his cheek. that earned a disgusted glower from him before you brought your fingers back toward behind his ear. “i scratched behind hereeee ‘n then . . you made that sound.”

the demon’s breath hitched once he felt the tip of your stubby thumb leisurely trail its way near behind his ear. instantaneously, his ear even twitched at your delicate touch and his eyes were just whining for more. for once, sukuna doesn’t have a witty remark and he’s just allowing you to toy your fingers against his balmy skin.

“stupid …. it wasn’t a purr. that’s insulting.”

“oh, my bad. what was it then?”

sukuna glares at you, and you return with a smug expression. damn.

sighing, sukuna’s shoulder slacken. “whatever. anyways,” he grumps, his chin sitting back onto your right leg. crimson eyes flicker up toward you before he pouts. “scratch behind my ear again. see what happens.”

“or what, you’ll purr again? ooh. scary.”

sukuna’s cheeks were so flushed - on the very cusps of shading into a bright hue of vermillion before he scoffs. “ha! do it. you wo- mmmmrr-”

cutting him off, you give him a good scratch behind his ear once more, and again—that sound comes out. a soothing, content purr from sukuna that cutely makes his whole body faintly rumble against your thighs.

it wasn’t just the purring, it was all of his changing body language that occurred too.

whenever your fingers would swiftly dash across the sensitive territory that was located behind his ear, sukuna turned into an entire different person. his eyelids would hang low, his nose would twitch, and his usual grumpy expression would slowly switch to a more… tame one.

it’s like your fingers had some sort of magic, and it irritated him but it also made him . . craving more of your touch. “there there,” you hummed, feeling him relax against your touch. your fingertips were always so gentle, dancing down the outer edge of his ear as the low, purring noise continued.

it only lasted for a few seconds but to sukuna, it felt like many, many hours..

the scratching had him nearly hypnotized - and he was already closing his eyes, forgetting all about his horrible day. you silently watched as the curse’s pink slit brows curled apart from its usual furrow, and you could almost see his pout turning into a tiny smile.

it’s a half-almost smile, and sukuna’s starting to feel himself eventually falling asleep.

“such a cat,” you teasingly mumbled, hearing his ragged breaths suddenly come to a mesmeric slow. sukuna deeply sighs, cool puffs of air from his nostrils falling against your thighs. you weren’t sure if he was fully asleep or not, so you gave him a soft poke.

nothing.

giggling, you laid back against his throne as he remained in his same spot—head laid on your thighs as he was kneeling before you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen sukuna so relaxed. he’s usually so angry - so full of hate and uncontrollable rage but now, he looks finally at peace.

at peace in his favorite spot - between your thighs.

in a soft lulling voice, you gave his head a small pat before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “i love you, ‘kuna. sleep well.”

“hng- i love …. you too, little one.” he’d groggily reply, pressing plush lips against the crevice of your thigh.

“never talk about this again, by the way. or els-”

you interrupt his tiny threat by scratching behind his ear one more time and sukuna purrs even louder than before. it’s more high-pitched this time, and he opens his eyes before a pink tint spreads across his face once he realized he purred again.

“d- damn it..”

[littlelamy]

the boutique reeked of money—shiny surfaces, plush carpets, the tang of expensive perfumes clinging to every rack of silk and leather. rafe prowled between the displays like he owned the place, sharp blue eyes narrowing as he scanned hangers with the kind of focus that made your skin crawl. his jaw was tight, a permanent flicker of something dangerous lurking in his expression, and you knew better than to question why you were here.

he yanked a little black dress off the rack, the fabric slinky and shimmering like liquid. “hold this,” he muttered, not even sparing you a glance as he shoved it into your arms.

“rafe—”

he cut you off by tossing another piece at you—a deep red number with a plunging neckline and slits high enough to be illegal. “that one too.”

your mouth opened to protest, but the way he was moving, the way his lips twitched like he was teetering between smirking and snapping, made the words die in your throat. he was in that kind of mood. the kind that left no room for arguing, no space to breathe unless he decided you’d earned it.

you clutched the growing pile of clothes in your arms, glaring at his broad shoulders as he stalked to another rack, tugging free a piece of lavender silk that looked like it barely qualified as a dress. of course he picked that one.

“rafe, this is insane,” you hissed, following behind him despite yourself. “i’m not trying all of this on. it’s too much.”

he stopped dead, spinning on his heel so fast you nearly smacked into him. his eyes locked on yours, piercing, cold, a hint of that wildfire temper simmering just beneath the surface.

“you’ll try on whatever the fuck i tell you to,” he said, voice low and sharp.

you stared up at him, a mix of anger and defiance bubbling in your chest. “you’re being ridiculous.”

his lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. it was sharper than that. crueler. he stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off him, close enough that his voice curled hot and soft in your ear when he spoke.

“unless you want me to strip you down right here in front of everyone?”

your face burned, and you shoved at his chest. he didn’t budge.

“god, you’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your grip tightening on the dresses in your arms.

he just laughed, low and mean, before leaning back slightly, his eyes dragging up and down your body with that possessive glint that made your stomach twist in ways you hated yourself for.

“and you love it,” he said, grinning now, wide and toothy. he turned, nodding toward the fitting rooms with a lazy flick of his hand. “now go. try them on. every last one. and don’t make me come in there, baby.”

your pulse skipped, the warning clear in his voice, and you had to fight the urge to hurl the entire pile of expensive fabric at his head. instead, you spun on your heel, stomping toward the fitting rooms while muttering under your breath about rich boys and their bullshit.

“louder,” he called after you, his laugh chasing you down the hall. “didn’t quite catch that.”

your middle finger shot into the air behind you without hesitation, but you didn’t stop. you had no doubt he’d make good on his threat to follow you in if you pushed him far enough.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs

credits to @xred-wingsx for divider

[michaela-o]

Hey my bbys im back 🧡(๑>؂•̀๑)✌☆*:

Took me long enough but i kinda took a lil break for a while and here i am again (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

Since it was Christmas we had SO MUCH to do, all the familie's traditions and preparations, my WHOLE family came over, everyone needed my help, i was also at work, i had to make a painting i promised i would do and then me and my bestie went on a trip in Vienna for three days so i was like SUPER busy but we had so much fun together man ( *´﹀` *)

I truly feel relaxed so here i made a drawing with Prowl kinda inspired by this absolutely amazing fic by @robolvrr ( minors DNI ! )

Guys they are such an amazing writer go give them a follow please🧡

Also i feel so good to be back and see what you guys have been up to :3🧡

[tikiki05]

Aaron and Vinex 🙈

*cough cough* miguel *cough cough*

[novaursa]

Fire Never Forgets

- Summary: Daemon swears to have you. No matter the cost.

- Pairing: sister!reader/dark!Daemon I Blackfyre

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (blood, gore, violence and all the other fluffy stuff)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround

The halls of the Red Keep were always alive with whispers, faint and elusive, as if the very stones had ears. You heard the rumors, of course—the ones that slithered into your chambers like serpents in the night. The court buzzed about Daemon Waters, the king’s unruly bastard son, the rogue boy who roamed the training yard with a smirk and a blade that sang like a lover’s sigh.

You were young then, barely past the threshold of maidenhood. Your world was still golden and unmarred, a delicate tapestry woven with tales of dragons and the dreams of kings. You had seen Daemon before, always from a distance—his pale hair gleaming under the sun, his violet eyes like shards of amethyst, sharp and cutting. There was something about him that unsettled you, a feral energy that prowled just beneath his skin.

It was not long before he noticed you.

The first time he truly saw you was during one of the king’s lavish feasts. You sat quietly at the high table, your hands folded neatly in your lap, eyes cast downward as the lords and ladies roared with laughter around you. Daemon was seated at the far end of the hall, amongst the lesser-born nobles and the bastards, his place at court as unsteady as his name. But his gaze found you nonetheless, cutting through the noise and the distance as if drawn by an invisible thread.

You felt it before you saw it—the weight of his stare, heavy and unrelenting. When you glanced up, your eyes locked with his across the room. A chill danced along your spine, though the air was warm and thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine. Daemon tilted his head, a wolfish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It was the beginning of everything.

The next morning, you found him waiting in the gardens.

"Princess," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, a serpent’s hiss wrapped in honey. "I thought I might find you here."

You hesitated, your fingers clutching the edges of your silk cloak. "Ser Daemon," you replied, though he bore no knightly title. "What brings you here?"

He stepped closer, his movements languid and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. "You."

The single word hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, your heart fluttering in your chest like a caged bird.

"You flatter me, my lord," you said, forcing your voice to remain steady. "Surely there are more interesting pursuits for someone like you."

Daemon chuckled, the sound dark and rich. "Perhaps. But none as captivating."

His eyes roved over you, unabashed and possessive. You felt exposed under his gaze, as though he could see every hidden part of you. The court had warned you of Daemon Waters—his ambition, his cunning, his charm that could melt steel. But standing before him now, you realized they had not warned you enough.

"I should go," you murmured, taking a step back.

"Why?" he asked, his tone almost playful. "Afraid of me?"

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. He took the opportunity to close the distance between you, his fingers brushing against your hand. His touch was cool, sending a shiver up your arm.

"You shouldn’t be," he whispered, his voice a caress. "I would never harm you."

The way he said it, soft and almost reverent, made you feel both comforted and unnerved. You pulled your hand away, your cheeks flushed.

"My father would not approve of this," you said, your voice firmer now.

Daemon’s grin widened, and for the first time, you saw the glint of ambition in his eyes—the fire that burned brighter than any dragon’s flame.

"Your father underestimates me," he said. "But you won’t. Will you, sister?"

The way he said the word sister made it sound like a claim, a bond that could not be severed. You took another step back, your mind racing.

"I must go," you said again, turning quickly and fleeing the garden.

Behind you, Daemon watched your retreating form, a smile curling on his lips. He had set his sights on you, and Daemon Waters was not a man who let go of what he wanted.

Not ever.

The throne room of the Red Keep was silent, save for the rustle of courtiers shifting in anticipation. King Aegon IV sat upon the Iron Throne, a mountain of swords forged in fire and blood, and the weight of his presence was suffocating. His indulgent grin held the promise of spectacle, for today, his bastard son, Daemon Waters, would be legitimized.

You stood among the lords and ladies, your place at court dutifully observed, though you wished to be anywhere but here. Your eyes darted to Daemon, who stood at the foot of the dais, head high, shoulders squared, a predator cloaked in finery. His hair gleamed like a crown beneath the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows, and his eyes burned with a fire that had always unnerved you.

The king raised a hand, silencing the murmurs that rippled through the court.

"Today," Aegon began, his voice booming, "I honor my blood. Daemon Waters, my son, I hereby legitimize you. From this day forward, you shall bear the name Blackfyre, a name as fierce and enduring as the blade I bestow upon you."

Gasps echoed through the chamber as a knight stepped forward, holding the famed blade Blackfyre in his hands. The sword, a symbol of Targaryen power, shone in the light, its Valyrian steel etched with dark ripples that seemed alive.

Daemon stepped forward, but instead of taking the blade, he turned his gaze to you. The intensity of his stare rooted you in place, and your breath caught in your throat. The court grew restless as Daemon spoke.

"I am honored by the name and the sword," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with danger. "But there is something I desire more."

The hall fell deathly silent, every eye shifting between Daemon and the king. Aegon’s brow furrowed, his indulgent smile slipping into something harder.

"And what is it you desire, Daemon?" Aegon asked, his tone wary.

Daemon’s lips curled into a smile, predatory and triumphant. He gestured toward you, his hand outstretched as if he already owned you.

"I want her," he said simply. "Your daughter. My sister."

The air left your lungs as gasps and murmurs erupted around the chamber. Your heart raced, your hands trembling as you felt the weight of hundreds of stares boring into you. Aegon leaned forward on his throne, his face darkening with rage.

"You dare?" Aegon’s voice was sharp, cutting through the noise like a blade. "You speak of your own sister, my daughter, as if she is a prize to be claimed?"

Daemon did not falter. "She is more than a prize. She is mine. Always has been."

The court erupted into chaos, but Aegon raised his hand, silencing them once more. His expression was a mix of fury and disbelief as he addressed his son.

“Daemon!” The king’s voice thundered through the hall. “You will take the sword and hold your tongue, or you will leave here with nothing!”

For the first time, Daemon faltered, his eyes narrowing, his jaw tightening. He looked up at the throne, his defiance unyielding.

"So be it," Daemon said softly, his voice carrying the promise of violence. He turned back to the knight holding Blackfyre and seized the sword in one fluid motion. The Valyrian steel hissed as he swung it through the air, testing its weight. He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

"If I must bloody my way to her, so be it," Daemon declared, his voice ringing through the hall. "I will carve a path through this world until she is mine, no matter who stands in my way."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your knees weaken beneath you. He turned his gaze back to you, his expression softening into something almost tender, though it only made your skin crawl.

"Wait for me, sweet sister," he said, his voice dripping with possession. "This is not the end."

Before anyone could react, Daemon spun on his heel and strode out of the throne room, the sword gleaming in his hand, his silver hair streaming behind him like a banner of war.

The silence that followed was deafening. Aegon slumped back in his throne, his face ashen. The lords and ladies whispered among themselves, casting furtive glances in your direction. You stood frozen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Daemon’s promise echoed in your mind, a dark and terrible vow that you knew he would keep.

Daemon Blackfyre stood atop the battlements of his newly-claimed stronghold, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the Red Keep loomed in the distance. The sun dipped low, but the fire in his chest burned brighter than the dying light. Blood stained the earth beneath his boots—Targaryen blood, Velaryon blood, noble blood—all spilled in his name, all spilled for her.

The sword in his hand, Blackfyre, felt like an extension of his will. The weight of it was a comfort, a promise, a whisper in the dark that urged him onward. The blade, black as night and sharp enough to carve destiny itself, gleamed faintly in the twilight. It had tasted blood that day, and it craved more.

But no amount of blood would satisfy him until he had her.

She haunted him, her image as vivid in his mind as the first time he had seen her. The delicate curve of her neck, the soft sway of her silken gown as she walked, the light in her violet eyes that burned like dragonfire. She was everything he wanted—everything he deserved—and she was denied to him by a man who called himself king. His father had dared to refuse him, dared to speak as if she was some prize to be withheld.

“Mine,” Daemon growled under his breath, the word a low, guttural snarl that escaped without thought. She was his. She had always been his, from the moment he first laid eyes on her. The rest of the world just hadn’t realized it yet.

His tent that night was a place of solitude and chaos, mirroring the storm within him. Maps and letters lay strewn across a wooden table, inked with the names of those who had pledged to his cause. Lords who whispered of justice, of a bastard’s right to the throne, of their disdain for the Targaryens who ruled. Fools, all of them. They thought this rebellion was about a crown, about power.

They didn’t understand. None of them did.

This war wasn’t about the Iron Throne. It wasn’t about Aegon IV’s rejection, or the legacy of the sword he now carried. It was about her. Every step, every stroke of his blade, every castle he burned and every knight he cut down—each was a step closer to her.

He paced the tent, his blood singing with the madness of his obsession. Visions of her filled his mind. He could see her now, standing on the steps of the Red Keep, her hands clasped nervously, her lips trembling as she spoke his name. Not with disdain, not with fear—but with reverence. With love.

He paused, his hands tightening on the edge of the table. Love. The thought of it twisted in his gut, raw and consuming. Did she love him? Could she? Or was she as blind as the rest of them? Did she see him only as a bastard, a rogue prince, a usurper?

No. She would love him. She had to. He would make her see.

Daemon's laughter filled the tent, low and dark and unhinged. It echoed off the canvas walls, a sound that would have sent shivers down the spines of lesser men. He reached for Blackfyre, lifting the sword and examining its edge, still stained crimson. His reflection stared back at him from the blade, wild and fierce.

“If she won’t come willingly,” he murmured, his voice soft yet brimming with malice, “then I will take her.”

The thought ignited something feral within him. He imagined storming the Red Keep, the doors splintering beneath his strength, the court scattering like frightened sheep as he strode through their midst. He would find her, wherever she was hidden, and she would look at him the way he dreamed. She would finally see the man who had razed kingdom for her, who had spilled oceans of blood for her name.

They will write songs about me, he thought, a twisted grin curling his lips. Daemon Blackfyre, the bastard who burned the world for love.

A knock at the tent's entrance pole pulled him from his thoughts. One of his captains, bloodied and battered, stepped inside. “My lord,” he began, bowing low. “The forces from House Peake are prepared to march. We await your orders.”

Daemon turned, the grin fading from his face as he fixed the man with a piercing gaze. “We march at dawn,” he said, his tone calm but laced with menace. “And we do not stop until the Red Keep falls. Tell the men that anyone who stands between me and what is mine will die screaming.”

The captain nodded, a flicker of fear crossing his face, and quickly left the tent. Daemon stood alone once more, the weight of his obsession settling over him like a cloak.

He stepped outside, the cool night air washing over him as he gazed toward the distant capital. “Soon,” he whispered, gripping the hilt of Blackfyre so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Soon you’ll be mine, my sweet sister. I’ll paint the streets of King’s Landing with blood if I must. But you’ll come to me. You’ll see there’s no escaping me.”

The stars above were cold and distant, their light pale and indifferent to the madness unfolding below. But Daemon didn’t care. The world could burn, the heavens could fall, and the gods themselves could descend to stop him—it wouldn’t matter.

He would have her. And nothing, not man nor trueborn dragon, would stand in his way.

The Great Hall of the Red Keep was eerily silent, its grandeur overshadowed by the chaos and death that lingered just outside its walls. The banners of House Targaryen still hung, but they were no longer symbols of your family’s strength. They were torn and bloodstained, fluttering weakly in the ash-laden breeze that seeped in through shattered windows.

You stood at the foot of the Iron Throne, your hands trembling as you clutched the fabric of your gown. Your heart was a hollow ache, a wound that bled for the family you had lost. Your father, your brothers, the loyal men who had sworn to protect you—they were all gone. Their screams echoed in your mind, drowned by the roar of Daemon Blackfyre’s armies as they stormed the capital.

Now, the victor was coming to claim his spoils.

The doors to the hall groaned open, and the sound of boots against stone shattered the stillness. Your head snapped up, and there he was. Daemon Blackfyre. His armor was stained with blood, his black and red cloak torn at the edges, but his posture was as commanding as ever. Blackfyre, the ancestral blade, hung at his hip. His violet eyes locked onto yours the moment he entered, and the air seemed to grow colder.

Behind him, his allies flanked him like wolves circling their leader. They carried the weight of victory on their shoulders, but it was Daemon who held the room in his grasp. He strode forward with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Leave us,” he commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding.

The men hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other before filing out of the hall. The heavy doors closed behind them, and the silence returned, thicker and more suffocating than before.

“You’ve taken everything from me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. Tears brimmed in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “My family, my home… everything.”

Daemon stopped a few paces away, his lips curling into a smirk that made your blood run cold. “Not everything, my sweet,” he said, his tone soft but laced with menace. “Not yet.”

He stepped closer, and you instinctively backed away, your heels hitting the edge of the steps that led to the Iron Throne. You had nowhere left to run. Daemon noticed and chuckled, the sound low and predatory.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he said, his voice a dark caress. “I warned them. I warned you. I would spill oceans of blood to have you. And now, here you are.”

You shook your head, your throat tightening as panic clawed at your chest. “Please… don’t do this.”

His expression softened, but it only made him more terrifying. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Oh, sweet sister,” he murmured, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “This is what was always meant to be. You and I, ruling together. Fire and blood, united.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him. His lips crashed against yours, demanding and unyielding. You froze, every muscle in your body screaming in protest, but Daemon was relentless. His kiss was a claim, a branding, a promise that you belonged to him and no one else.

When he finally pulled away, you gasped for air, your chest heaving as tears streamed down your face. Daemon’s thumb wiped one away, his smile dark and triumphant.

“Bring the Septon,” he called, his voice echoing through the empty hall.

The doors opened, and the trembling figure of a Septon was ushered in by two of Daemon’s men. The holy man clutched his robes tightly, his face pale as he took in the scene before him.

“We will be married,” Daemon announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And then I will be crowned. The throne is mine, and so is she.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “You can’t—”

Daemon turned to you, his hand gripping your chin firmly as he forced you to meet his gaze. “I can, and I will. You are mine, now and forever. You can fight me if you wish, but it will change nothing.”

The Septon hesitated, his voice trembling as he began the rites. You barely heard the words, your mind spinning with the weight of what was happening. When the time came for Daemon to speak his vows, his voice was strong and sure, each word dripping with obsession.

“I take you as mine, in fire and blood, now and always,” he said, his gaze burning into yours. “And I swear, before gods and men, that we will make this world kneel before us.”

When it was your turn to respond, you hesitated, your voice caught in your throat. Daemon’s hand tightened on yours, a silent warning. You forced the words out, each one feeling like a blade to your heart.

As the ceremony ended, Daemon turned to the Septon and dismissed him with a wave. The poor man fled the hall as quickly as his legs would carry him. Daemon’s attention shifted back to you, his smile returning as he gestured toward the Iron Throne.

“Come, wife,” he said, the word thick with satisfaction. “Our union is not yet complete.”

Your eyes widened in horror as his meaning became clear. You shook your head, backing away, but Daemon’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist like iron.

“Do not fight me,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “I promised myself this moment, and I will have it. We will make love on the Iron Throne, and the realm will remember it as the night House Blackfyre truly began.”

Tears streamed down your face as he pulled you toward the throne, his grip unyielding. The jagged steel of the throne loomed before you, a monument to power, cruelty, and now, the dark desires of the man who had taken everything from you.

Each step up its dais felt like a climb toward your doom, a spiral into the depths of Daemon's madness. His hand never left yours, his grip unrelenting as he guided you to the seat that had claimed the lives of kings. The steel beneath you was cold and unforgiving, a perfect mirror to the man who now stood before you.

Daemon's eyes were brilliant with triumph, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he towered over you. He had everything he had fought for—the Red Keep, the realm, and you. The fire in his gaze burned hotter than the dragons of old, and you realized then that there was no escape.

He lowered himself to his knees before you, though there was no reverence in his act, only possession. His hands found your waist, his touch firm and commanding as he pulled you to him. The kiss he pressed to your lips was fevered and insistent, a claim written in fire and blood.

"Mine," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "Always mine."

You closed your eyes, tears slipping free as you endured his touch. The throne cut into your back, its cruel edges biting through the delicate fabric of your gown, but Daemon seemed unbothered. He was relentless, his obsession driving him to take what he believed was rightfully his.

Time blurred, the world narrowing to the cold steel beneath you and the scorching heat of Daemon's presence. His whispers filled your ears, promises of love and power tangled with threats of what would happen if you ever tried to leave him. When it was over, the throne room was silent once more, save for the sound of your ragged breathing.

Daemon rose, his expression one of dark satisfaction. He reached down and pulled you to your feet, his hands lingering on your waist as he steadied you. The throne stood behind you, its cutting edges now marked with the blood of your union.

He stepped away briefly, retrieving something from a nearby table. When he returned, your breath caught in your throat. In his hands was a crown—a twisted masterpiece of Valyrian steel and black diamonds, its design sharp and imposing. It was a thing of dark beauty, as haunting and unyielding as the man who had commissioned it.

"This," he said, his voice reverent, "is yours. A queen must have her crown."

You shook your head, your lips trembling. "Daemon, please—"

"Silence," he interrupted, his tone firm but not cruel. "You are my queen, my wife, my equal by blood. This crown was forged for you, and you will wear it."

He placed the crown upon your head, his fingers brushing against your hair as he adjusted it. When he stepped back to admire his work, his expression softened, a rare glimmer of tenderness breaking through his dark obsession.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. "You are everything I dreamed of and more."

You stood frozen, the weight of the crown pressing down on you like the weight of the world. Daemon extended his hand, his smile widening as he awaited your response. When you hesitated, his gaze hardened.

"Take my hand," he commanded. "Stand beside me, and let the realm see its king and queen united."

Slowly, reluctantly, you placed your hand in his. His grip tightened immediately, a silent reminder of his control. Together, you descended the steps of the Iron Throne, Daemon leading you toward the hall’s open doors where his allies and soldiers awaited.

As the doors swung open, the crowd erupted into cheers. They hailed Daemon as the king who had taken what was rightfully his, and you as the queen who would rule at his side. But you saw the truth in their eyes—the fear, the uncertainty, the unspoken acknowledgment that their loyalty was born of necessity, not love.

Daemon raised your joined hands high, his voice booming over the crowd. "Behold your queen!" he declared, his tone filled with triumph. "She is mine, as this throne is mine, and together we shall forge a new world—one ruled by House Blackfyre."

The crowd roared its approval, but you felt none of their enthusiasm. Your heart ached for what had been lost, for the family and the life that had been torn from you. But as Daemon’s hand gripped yours, unyielding and possessive, you realized there was no escaping him.

This was your life now—a crown of blood and ash, a throne forged in obsession, and a king who would stop at nothing to keep you by his side.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Silk Pyjamas[*]

Azriel x reader

a/n: I want to get a nice pair of silk pyjamas so badly but they’re so hot in the summer 😫

warnings: smut

word count: 1,232

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“Az…”

“Azriel…”

“Az…!”

You squirm under the hotness of his palms as they press their shape into your skin, squeezing at your hips, grazing your waist, cupping your breasts as he pulls your comparatively soft body flush to his front. Your hands press into the crook of his elbows, spine curving into him, head tilted to the side as his tongue licks over the smooth skin of your neck, nipping just shy of your ear, lost in the small noises you’re making, the short, hushed breaths exhaling from your inviting lips, the soft swell of your breasts against his chest as you curve beneath his touch.

“Az…come on, we have an early morning tomorrow…” you try, lips helplessly curving at their corners as he presses ticklish kisses into your skin, swiftly turning hot and feverish, wet and open-mouthed as he moves lower, forearm banding around the curve of your spine, his body arching over you as his hips press to yours.

You inhale sharply when his thumb slips beneath the blue silk band of your pyjamas, matching the pair you’d bought for him: a deep blue top with sleeves down to your wrists, his with slats carefully cut into the back panel, trousers for each of you that come to your ankles, cut in a way that Azriel has mentioned show your hind off. And now his hand slides from your hips to squeeze at the swell of your ass appreciatively, sucking small marks into your throat as he guides you back to the bed.

It’s then he pulls away, and any serious fight you had left in you liquefies at the softness and hunger of his hazel eyes—bedroom eyes, if you’ve ever seen them. “Do you want to stop?” He asks quietly, hands pausing their exploration to settle on your hips, his fingers just beneath the silk of your top, able to feel the soft heat of your naked waist beneath.

You make the mistake of glancing down to his mouth, your pupils dilating as heat softens your body in his arms, your hands slowly making the trail up over his arms, feeling the swell of muscle beneath your fingertips, tracing up over his biceps, up over his broad shoulders, settling at the nape of his neck. Fingertips threading through silky, dark hair.

“No…” you mumble, inclining your jaw, lips parting as he sighs with arousal, mouth slanting hotly against your own, tongue plying you further apart so he can get inside of you, soft, wet noises being exchanged between your mouths, the bed pressing into the backs of your thighs. Your teeth nip at his lower lip before pulling away in favour of crawling onto the bed, but his hands firmly grip your hips, lifting you up off the floor—a casual display of effortless strength that has heat melting between your thighs.

“Az…” you urge softly, settling on your hands and knees in the centre of your bed, feeling as he prowls up behind you, crowding your space as his long, deft fingers hook beneath the band of your blue, silk trousers, pulling the elasticated band down over the curve of your ass, stopping when you’re uncovered, the elastic squeezing at your mid-thighs, far enough down for him to be given an arousing view of between your legs.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and you flush from the praise, lowering yourself into the duvet so as to keep his attention on your ass, stuck invitingly in the air. “So good,” he murmurs to himself, feeling how wet you are as his hand wraps around your upper thigh, thumb sliding with ease through your heat, prodding with interest at your entrance.

“Az, come on…stop teasing,” you moan sweetly, shifting your hips with impatience. “You started this…” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, and you tighten around nothing, as if trying to suction his thumb further inside, but he pulls away, if only to lower the waistband of his own pyjamas to free himself.

“Alright, no teasing,” he replies, mirth clear in his deep voice, pressing closer to your soft body. Your teeth drag over your lower lip as he pushes his tip to your entrance, gliding through the wetness effortlessly, coating himself in your slick, before pushing in. You moan into the duvet, fingers crumpling the previously crisp and smooth sheets, toes curling as his hot palms pull back on your hips, guiding you together.

“You can…please…” you pant softly, spine curving from the pleasure, breasts pressing into the plush mattress, and you tilt your head into his shadows as they brush against your cheek, stroking your hair. “Please move…”

Azriel groans quietly, breathlessly, but acquiesces, gently pulling his hips back only to push in again, softly pushing you deeper into the mattress with each roll of his hips. Moans swiftly start spilling from your lips as he repeats the movements, pace increasing ever so slightly to become more regular, more languid movements that have your arms shaking from holding yourself up.

You feel so at home between his arms, with him filling you up so completely you can’t take it, arms giving out as you collapse down into the bed, allowing him to fuck you sideways. You cry out softly as he noses at your throat again, shadows pulling your hair out of his way so he can pull your scent deep into his lungs, infuse you with his body, increasing the pace to something more regular and familiar, his cock touching a spot inside you that has your toes curling, nipples peaking beneath the dark blue silk of your pyjamas.

As usual, his shadows don’t miss a thing, squeezing and palming at your breasts as they slip beneath your top, pinching and lightly flicking at your nipples, playing with them sweetly as he pushes more and more pleasure into you.

“Az…!” You cry out, the moan flying from your lips as a sign you’re on the edge, unable to help it—you want to call out his name when you cum; you like having it shaping your lips, how it feels in your mouth. “Az, Az…! I…I’m—!”

“Go on,” he urges softly, kissing up your throat, settling on a spot halfway down your neck, below your ear to focus on. “You deserve this…take it…fuck, there you go.”

Your breath catches as he rolls you over the edge, pleasure tingling in every part of your body as it bubbles and simmers beneath your skin, like being warmed by the summer’s sun. “Azriel…” you moan, fluttering around him as you reach your high, the pleasure practically doubling as you feel him breathe a sigh of relief, allowing himself to find his own release inside of you.

The high takes a while to fade, slowly drifting back down to this plane, panting deeply, warmed beneath the reassuring weight of his body, wings shuddering lightly where they’re splayed out over the bed. He pants softly against your neck, and you squirm from the ticklish sensation, wanting to shift to look at him.

The two of you smile, before mouths are opening again, pressing together and your fingers drag through his hair, gently stroking to keep him from pulling away before you’re okay with it.

There’s no need for that, though.

He doesn’t want to leave any more than you do.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya @starlitlakes

[tikiki05]

Shocked and appalled by this post (im writing a new smut piece w him and i feel it might be my best smut yet teehee 🤭)

I wanna suck his dick til he turns pale.

His ass deserves to get that punani 😮‍💨

[robolvrr]

silk baby ✧⁠*°•

idw prowl x gn! human reader

nsfw. tags: lingerie, hatesex, petplay (wink), humiliation kink. let's get kinky.

you infuriate him.

it's almost insulting. the uniform your kind has given you, the shiny, golden lapels and glittering badge. you've served no war, fought no battles and have a fraction, no, a blink of his lifetimes experience in diplomacy.

when he first heard of your transfer from optimus himself he scoffed audibly.

files upon files were downloaded and analyzed of you immediately.

you're young. all of your people compared to cybertronians are. but you're still fresh-faced, no scars of time and still speak in those sweet, hopeful hums that makes his spark crackle.

he decides that reaction is hate.

and he shouldn't be feeling it, shouldn't be questioning his alliance and the brand on his chassis when he thinks about how easy this entire miserable planet could be wiped from the plane of existence.

somehow, humanity has managed to cause so many problems that not even his processors and planning can delegate the stress of having to pretend he was anything but superior to the generals, captains and presidents that adored to speak to them as if they were subordinate.

when you first meet prowl, you think, he must despise you. his frown on his angular features is stubborn and unmoving. he speaks to you like you're inconvenient.

"this is all wrong."

"do you even check your notes?"

"i am shocked to see just why they chose you for this role."

"don't bother me again until you find your voice. stop stuttering like a fool. you're an advisor, are you not?"

he's cruel. you're unable to find a response as he always slinks away, before you can seek a fellow autobot to properly report him.

sometimes, you can see the smirk in that disapproving gaze.

you do what most humans do. try to adapt. try to appeal. he likes to think in his spare time of you as a slobbering dog, trailing his pedes on all fours. drooling for even an opportunity of companionship.

you, on the floor. crawling. that's a bitterly tasty thought, indeed.

the rejected sentiments are visibly breaking you, slowly over time. starts with you trying to relieve his load in reports. attending his meetings, even though you're not required. he even heard you trying to argue with your own command, in some hopes they'd lessen their restraints on their current agreements with the extraterrestrials.

it's laughable. did he ask for any of this? no. you still do it.

dog. filthy, needy, pretty dog.

--------------------

you're frustrated.

you have so much pressure on you, all the time. all the poli-sci courses and straight a's don't compare or prepare for being the middle man between the united states and co governmental bigheads and literal, walking cars.

and jets. and motorcycles, you learn.

you should be out at parties. kissing boys and girls and someone you don't remember, crying about tests and complaining to your friends about the shitty sink and your shitty landlord.

instead you get this opportunity shoved in your lap.

to be taken seriously, you pin yourself in sleek hairstyles and make sure your appearance is flawless. your boots are polished. you smell like fresh laundry and evergreen.

most of the autobots have taken a liking to you, or at least listen to your points. most have gotten the common sense having lived on earth for as long as they had to not purposefully offend.

prowl? oh no. no, he made a point to make sure you felt belittled.

why does his opinion mean so much to you? is it because his tone is always cold? is it because you feel metaphorically and literally pinned under his gaze, some twitching fly beneath his precise needle?

he knows each and every weak spot in that barely nurtured ego of yours to jab.

you lie to yourself. lie that it makes you stronger. laugh like he's just jealous.

your sheets are sweaty. his voice is level, that you remember.

his hands. servos. so articulate.

you should feel sick when your own weasels from between your thighs.

you should feel ill for thinking of him when you see the slick wetness dripping down your forearm.

would he tell you you did a good job?

--------------------

the teapot in the shared downtime area whistles.

you're drowsy. caffeine does little to put any pep to your step so you resort to accepting your fate, hoping to bullshit your way through your rotation and worry about the repercussions later. today was boring. that was the issue - you're drained and understimulated.

not long enough it seems.

"slacking off, mm?"

a visible shake flirts up along your spine. the look you give over your shoulder is barely short of disrespectful.

"there is nothing else of importance for me to do. why would this room exist if not to relax between shifts?"

prowl towers. the doorways are higher, larger, to accommodate for humanity's new, glossy allies. you ignore the way his optics narrow. like he's studying you. like you've already fucked up.

"sounds more like failed excuses to me, diplomat. though.."

he's close. too close. uncanny valley crawls in your stomach as you struggle to forget nights ago. the dusting of his metal plates pattern similar to freckles.

that'd be cute if he wasn't awful.

".. mm, yes. you humans are so delusional. it's admirable, truly. patting yourself on your backs but too lazy to put in the effort to earn anything."

now it's your turn to frown.

"you're wrong. i work my ass off-"

"tsk, tsk, language."

"oh, fuck off!"

the tea kettle steams loud. and then it's jostled off the burner and you're scrambling, a scream caught in your throat.

cybertronians are strong. beasts, truly. they come in all shapes, sizes and talents but one thing is clear - they're living, breathing metal. there is little that can actually harm them.

prowl has your chin snatched between his digits. his helm is close and he has no need to breathe, but his ex-vents are sharp and his voice is still deliciously icy.

"see? animals, all of you. mutt. you bark and whine and complain. and i was supposed to take you seriously?"

your work shirt has lifted up your midriff. you ignore the throbbing at your core.

either he knows or he doesn't care, though it's prowl and it's rare he's in the dark.

there is no imagining how his vocals dip.

"predictable."

------------------

prowl finds fabric to be gaudy.

a prized trade elsewhere is commodity down here. he is much more trained on revealing what lays under that tight, useless suit of yours.

he doesn't bother answering any of your questions, only responding by yanking you by the back of your hair and letting his dentae sink into the flesh of your neck until it bruised.

he's rough. he knows you cannot take it, so when you're crying out to a god he doesn't know, his smile finally starts to edge his otherwise stern expression.

"good."

there's a snarl of disgust and despair when he gets all the buttons loose.

you are a spike tease.

underneath the bravado is the coverings of a slut.

it's gorgeous. soft, genuine silk. the straps are thin and bows dangle at the connections to heart-shaped lace that barely covers your chest. there's frill.

he tears a thread and unweaves it, just as he does with you.

your panties are yanked down your legs. they leave a red mark with how roughly he deposits them ..

for future observation.

his grip wrenches your hips, until a hole is found and he's jamming in and you're mewling, panting, huffing for him.

the "i hate you"s and "you're terrible"s just piston his pace faster.

his audials resort to memory banks that store all the pitiful expressions you make. he gets you on your hands and knees after all and when he's clutching your throat between sloppy thrusts, his grin is sharp and horrid.

"bark, puppy."

robolvrr 2024.

[tikiki05]

Wrote an Aaron Davis oc x canon angst one shot inspired by this think piece by @incognito-duo that’s about him and Jeff seeing the other in Miles. I loved it so much and it inspired me so much too!

If you like this piece and are interested in how my character and Aarons relationship comes to be, you can read their full story here!

Below is artwork of my OC Vinex Devi which was done by dee_from_webtoon on instagram and webtoon

Earth 42-B, middle of the night. Cuddled up to him with Aarons arm draped around them, Vinex began to stir awake as they heard something; a voice softly murmuring. As they came to and looked up, they realized it was Aarons voice. Through the darkness, they could see his lips barely moving. They lifted their head and gently rubbed their hand on his chest.

“Aaron? Darling?”

They asked quietly. His head moved from side to side as his eyelids slowly fluttered open.

“Babe?”

He muttered with a hoarse voice.

“Were you dreaming? You were talking in your sleep just now,”

They clarified for him. Aaron removed his arm from Vinex’s shoulders to sit up and rub his eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait, what…?”

He mumbled in confusion. Vinex sat up and watched him reach for his phone on the bedside table. He planted his feet on the floor and looked at the time that read the late hour displayed on top of his screens wallpaper, an old picture of him and Jeff. He stared at it, and Vinex watched with concern as a realization started to paint his screen-illuminated face.

“Aaron, is something wrong?”

They questioned as they put a hand on his back. He began tearing up, and set his phone down to cover his face with both hands, leaning over and resting his elbows on his lap.

“Goddammit…”

He sighed shakily. Seeing he was upset, Vinex moved closer and held his shoulders.

“My love, what is it?”

They persisted with worry.

“It’s Jeff, I was having a dream about Jeff…it felt so real, I-I forgot for a second…”

He admitted.

“Oh heavens, no, I’m so sorry,”

Vinex frowned as they patted his back. He started to sniffle and held back his sobs in his hands. They moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, holding him close and kissing his temple.

“I’m so messed up right now…Can you promise me that this right now is real?”

“Absolutely, this is real life, I promise you,”

They reassured. Aaron reached for their hand and held it tight, pressing it to his forehead.

“God…I don’t even realize how much I miss him sometimes…”

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m here to listen to you, always.”

They offered. He let out a sigh.

“…sometimes…I see him. I look at Miles, and I see a little version of him…an’ I know that’s obvious, he’s his son, but…it shakes me up sometimes…and, other times I wonder, if before he was gone, he ever looked at Miles and saw me? I kinda hope he did, but…I get why he wouldn’t want that…I hate how things was between us. I really, really do. And I hate how complicated it was, I wish I could say that it all didn’t matter, but it’s just not that easy,”

He let out a small sob at the end of his sentence. Vinex frowned and tightened their hold on him with their free arm.

“It doesn’t sound like it was easy at all. I’m so sorry Aaron,”

They consoled him. He turned towards them and hid his face in the crook of their neck and continued to cry softly, very clearly trying to resist fully letting go. Vinex continued and encouraged,

“Please my love, cry as much as you need to, let it out.”

With this, Aaron allowed himself to cry a little louder, a little more unrestrained, though was still overall quiet and tame. Vinex let him do so, rubbing his back and staying silent for a little bit before speaking again.

“Do you want any input from me, or did you just want me to listen?”

They asked him. After thinking on the question, Aaron raised his head and laid it on their shoulder.

“Did you have any input to give?”

He inquired.

“Well, it’s not very relevant to what you’ve just talked about, but, it’s what I like to think about whenever I find myself missing Jeff, or when I think about his and yours complicated relationship,”

They explained. Aaron listened curiously.

“What is it?”

“I, I like to imagine that in whatever afterlife hopefully exists, he’s watching you take such good care of Miles, and be so supportive to him, and helping him and Rio get by, and he’s proud of you. And, maybe he realizes some of the things he thought about you were wrong,”

They told him. Aaron gave a small scoff.

“I doubt it. His ass was so stubborn…and god, he’d hate that I taught Miles how to prowl…”

He sighed shakily with self-disappointment. Vinex frowned and gently rubbed his shoulders.

“You did have your reasons. You told me it was because Miles wanted to be able to protect himself and others, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So, you taught him just that, in the way you knew best. I’m sure Jeff would understand it from that perspective.”

Aaron slowly nodded his head.

“You gotta point…thanks, I…I feel better now I think.”

“I’m so happy to hear. How can I make you feel even better?”

They asked with a smile. He shrugged.

“I dunno…maybe something to drink, I guess?”

“You’ve got it. Maybe we could steal some of Jordans sodas,”

They suggested with a mischievous smile. Aaron snickered softly.

“Would they be cool with that?”

“They would. In all seriousness, he buys them for the house,”

They told him.

“Aight, sounds good then,”

Aaron smiled.

They both got out of bed, and Vinex slipped on one of their extravagant robes before they went to the kitchen together and each got a can of soda. Vinex opened their can, utilizing their spider abilities as to not harm their manicure, and raised it up.

“To Jefferson?”

They suggested. Aaron gave a little smirk and raised his can as well.

“To Jefferson.”

The couple clinked cans and took a sip.

[erenjaegerwifee]

All Mine

Survive the Night: Day 6

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, manipulative kidnapping (neteyam lured you in and kept you), mentions of killing, slow sex, hard rough sex, titty sucking, pervy Neteyam, delusional Neteyam, forced mating, kuru play, oral fixation, breeding kink, p in v, beginning of Stockholm syndrome.

Word Count: 4.7k

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If you feel uncomfortable please do not interact with this post. Feel free to scroll.

You fly over the forest; it seems to calm you quite a bit when you are feeling stressed. You are a part of the Aranahe Clan, located in the silk woods, Kinglor Forest. You love your home very much but sometimes keeping up is frustrating, everyone wants something for you. You love exploring the different parts of your moon, Eywa has gifted each clan with such unique things, you cannot help but be curious.  

You are usually always careful not to over step your boundaries and cross over into other clan territory, it only brings trouble having to explain why you were there in the first place. You fly for hours until you are very close to the omatikaya clan. You have had some interactions wither their people but not enough to feel comfortable. You set your ikran down for a snack and rest while you continue your exploring by walking. 

This part of the forest looks different than yours but it is to be expected. You stop at a waterfall catching some water in a leave to take a drink. Your mind was far, you weren’t paying attention the way you usually would, your mind runs circles around your troubles at home. 

It was exhausting honestly, you laid down next to the small pond you just drank from and decided it was best to take a short nap, letting the sound of the running water put you to rest. When you awoke it was dark.  

Shit. You didn’t mean to sleep that long, and so far from home, who knows what predators prowl in this forest. You didn’t want to stick around and find out. You stand you quickly and try to make your way back to the last place you were with you beloved ikran. 

Unfortunately, you don’t even remember what direction it was in, the forest glowed beautiful bioluminescent colors but it only made it that much harder to map out the terrain, everything looks different now. You decided it was best to just pick a direction and walk, but regrettably you choose the wrong one. You wish you could have more time to appreciate the beautiful forest, but you also wanted to stay alive.  

When you heard the footsteps behind you though, all hell broke loose, you had no real light, no weapon, you were about to die. You turn back and see sharp teeth of a viperwolf; they hunt in packs. You've heard stories about the destruction they can create. Your heart pounded as you ran away from the sounds of growling and rustling of leaves but it never seemed to be far enough, by the time to stopped to take a breather, you were lost, in an unfamiliar area with wolves chasing you.  

One of the viperwolves lunched at you getting hit away from your body before it can reach you, an arrow pierced through the body of the wolf, an omatikayan arrow, but you do not take the time to think about that when you see a man with long braided hair whip his bow into another that jumped at you, he snarled at them scaring them away from you before he pulled his arrow out the dead one that sat about 3 feet away from you. 

You were scared, you didn’t mean to end up here and make this man, who you are so grateful for, save you. But it happened anyways. “You saved my life” you say to him, you breathe deeply trying to regulate your heart. The man didn't respond only stood looking at you.  

It kind of freaked you out but you were not going to have to deal with it any longer. You look up at him for the first time since he has been in front of you and oh man, he was so handsome. His warrior attire still in pristine shape like he has never had to use it, his freckles glow in the dark of the forest just like the plants around. 

“You do not thank?” his voice was deep; you almost detected a hint of humor in there. “Right yes, thank you sir” you stand up, walking right pass him and whistle for your ikran, hoping she can hear you, at least if your sound attracts any attention, the big strong man can protect you.  

You scent hit him like a train, it’s so fruity, so sweet, so delicious he wants to taste you. His eyes shut and he inhales deeply in your space, not even bothering to hide his interest in it. You look at him kind of weirdly at the action but do not say anything. When you whistle loudly, he is brought back to reality. “Where are you going?” he seems a little too eager to know, “home, I called for my ikran” you say to him 

“Neteyam.” he mumbled; you turn your head to look at him confused before you realized he was telling you, his name. “Ah ok” you smile was a bit uncomfortable but Neteyam didn’t pick up on any of it, his mind running through thoughts of you. How peaceful you looked while you slept next to the pond, how he sat next to you protecting you from predators, how he brushed the hair out of your hair and when you let out cute sighs, he was watching you, but you had no idea. 

You told him your name and hear the familiar flapping of your ikran getting closer, you look up to the sky waiting for her to come into view. “You have a beautiful name” he said quietly, you glanced back at him with a small smile, thanking him for the compliment, then looked back to the sky. Neteyam couldn’t let you leave, not when he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again. 

Maybe his judgement is clouded, he was supposed to be on a 2 week long retreat that all the warriors must go through in the clan, that is the reason he is so far away from his clan in the forest, but a beauty just stumbled upon his resting grounds? Eywa must be blessing him with a mate, no other girl has ever caught his attention the way you do, not even the woman he is set to mate.  

He wants you to stay. He spoke to you while you slept and heard your voice, heard your gratefulness, maybe you didn’t really want to leave him alone, maybe you just had to go home, but when will be see you again? He just couldn’t take that chance. 

He took in the sight of your body from behind, your slender back and long braided hair, longer than his. You plump ass, round hips and swaying tail; you looked so sexy standing in front of him. His cock strained in his loincloth, how could he not let you see what you are doing to him? 

Neteyam pulled back an arrow on his bow aiming right for the ikran now coming into view, he waited until it was close enough before he released the arrow shooting it in the heart. The ikran dropped to the floor about 20 feet away from you both hidden in the greenery. It made you scream and honestly, neteyam loved that sound.  

Looks like you never even saw what shot down your bird, when he heard you scream the words ‘what the hell’ but you didn’t turn around angry looking at him. He took this as another sign from Eywa, “Come we must go, those scavengers will find us if we stay in the open.” What scavengers? Neteyam made them up. 

Everything moved so fast for you, one moment your soul sister was shot out of the skin and the next Neteyam has you thrown over his shoulder like a dead animal, running in another unfamiliar direction, after a few minutes he burst through a small but, equip with some food, water, even some supplies. He set you down on the small sitting mate he had placed for himself by a table and explained that the people who shoot down your ikran around bad na’vi from his claim, who kill other people and just overall do bad things. That too he made up he just needed any excuse for you to stay the night.

“I will keep you safe, if you stay with me, always” he said as he watched you cry for your bird. He subtly rolled his eyes at your behavior but it was to be expected. When your tears dried up, he gave you some food and convinced you the most comfortable place for you to sleep is in his hammock with him. 

You were not that hard to convince, considering he just made you cry without you knowing it was his fault, but who can really blame him? Anyone would do the same thing if they say you. He thought you were gorgeous. When he blew out the candle and got in the hammock with you, his body weight made you slide back, down to the middle of the hammock pressed right up against his chest. His skin was warm, and his chest was hard like a warrior, which you already knew he was from previous conversations.  

The way he saved you made him extremely attractive, the way his built-up body pulled back the arrow with quick aim killing the viperwolf, the way he swung his bow and hissed that then, it was kind of sexy. Not to mention the way he picked you up and ran with you like you weighted nothing; it made you think about how else he could manhandle you- 

“Do you have enough room?” he asked you, his mouth was so close to your ear it made you twitch, you wrap your tail around your own thigh so it wouldn’t give away your feeling, you cannot just jump into this man’s bed and fuck him an hour after meeting him, you don’t even know if he is mated. Maybe you were reading too much into things, maybe he is just being nice to you. “I should be asking you that, I can’t go around your too heavy, I’ll keep sliding back down” your words make him chuckle. 

The sound made you so wet, you almost felt yourself gush, how is this man so attractive. You didn’t say anything after that opting to stare into the darkness of the little room and feel his breathing sync with yours, his broad chest rising and falling with you.  

When you turn your body to face away from him, he turned his to face your back. Neteyam made sure to press up his tight loincloths against your ass, it took it as a nice sign when your pressed yourself back into him. The action made him smile; you are so easy for him.  

His large arm came around your body and rested his hand on your stomach, his palm spanned out picking up the entire space. The size difference made you shiver, how come you didn't notice is before? Your mind didn’t lay on the thought long when you heard him say, “I like your top, fits you...exquisitely” he sighs after the word, restraining himself from just taking you. He had to work your up first.  

Your tits are slightly larger than those on the average na’vi woman, you have to make clothes specifically for your size most of the time. People often say what you lack in height you make up for in curves. “Thank you Neteyam, I made it” his fingers play with the beads that hang just under your breast, he only hummed at your words. 

You shifted slightly against his crotch feeling the hard on he had hidden underneath, you bite your lip to avoid the unwanted whimper that almost spilled out of your mouth due to his sheer size. It made you seize up slightly. 

Neteyam noticed your little movement and the way you tensed up when you felt him, he slipped his other arm under your body folding you around your shoulders in the front and his other hand slid up underneath the beads to the skin right below your breast.  

He moved so slowly; the anticipation was building up in you. His fingers lightly tickled the skin of your breast when he slid his large hand up to cup one. The feeling made you whimper and shift against him again. He squeezed the flesh feeling the softness in his fingers. His skin was not soft like yours; it was rough like he works with his hands all the time; the feeling made your eyes roll back and you lean your head back on his shoulder. 

His other hand unwrapped from the front of your shoulders to untie your top. This top was special, it tied to the front. So, when he untied it, your breast slipped out of the top quickly, exposing your nipples to the cool air. “Fuck...look at these” Neteyam’s head comes to look over your shoulder and you both watch as he squeezes and plays with your breast with both his hands.  

His fingers pinch your nipples pulling on them over and over making you whimper. He shifts positions, spinning you around the face him. Your face is like a gift from Eywa when he sees you, he almost comes in his loincloth; your lip is trapped between your teeth as you look up at his with doe eyes, a purple blush covers your cheeks and nose making you look just beautiful.  

His hands come back to your tits playing with them and he brings his mouth down to your nipples. Your eyes roll when his tongue darts out flicking the sensitive bud. You squeeze your thighs together in attempts to satisfy the feeling of your loincloth getting wetter and rubbing against your clit.  

You mewl when he tugs on it with his teeth. It feels so good, this stranger is giving you better sex than you’ve ever had from anyone else and he has even stuck it in yet, “Oh fuck Neteyam where have you been all my life” your eyes are shut and your head is thrown back. You wrap your arms around his head keeping him close. Your words make him hum, not wanting to detach from your nipple. 

“Fuck fuck fuck...” you chant under your breath but he hears you, he switches between both nipples even pushing them together and sucking and tugging on them at the same time. Your thighs become slippery from your essence; you feel like you could come untouched. Thats exactly what you do. 

“Nete rutxe ra’a ftang” (please don’t stop) you moan out. As you hump air trying to get yourself off. You finally release with one harsh tug on your nipples and a sweet whimper of his name from your lips, if you weren’t sure, you ruined your loincloth before, you absolutely did now.  

Neteyam pulls away admiring his work, making your nipples hard and purple, they even turn slightly red from how much he was biting and tugging on them. He looks at your face to see your blushed cheeks darken significantly, you look embarrassed. “What happened sweet girl?” 

“I- um, I came...” you say shyly, hiding your face behind your hands. Neteyam lets out a chuckle and pulls them away to look at you, “Don’t be shy, I’m just glad I did such a good job.” his grin was wide, fangs on full display, his tail thumb on the hammock behind him and he used his strong arms to turn your away from him so his chest is pressed up against your back once more. 

Neteyam wasn’t as hesitate anymore to touch you, now he teased you until you were tearing up. His fingers lightly touch your skin moving from your neck to your belly button until his hand is rubbing your clit through your loincloth. Your whimper and squirm in his grasp asking him repeated to touch you but he doesn’t let up. Neteyam puts you down in a delirious puddle with his touches, sultry voice and sweet words. 

“You’re so beautiful babydoll, such pretty fucking noises too, you like when I touch you like this yea? Fuck, you're soaking though your cloth baby feel” his hand moves from your clit and grabs yours shoving it down to feel the mess you made under your covering. His fingers guide your movements to play with yourself and his other hand pinches your nipples. You whine when he pressed your finger down on your clit and pushed his hard cock into your ass. 

Neteyam lets your hand out and fiddles with his loincloth to take it off, his cock springs out and he holds the base tapping it on your ass a couple times before he grabbed your hand and out it over his cock, “Feel what you’re doing to me baby” his voice was a smooth whisper, you felt his breath on your ear and you instinctively squeezed his cock in your hand. He groans at the feeling and you start pumping his hard cock in your hand, you feel his pre-cum drip down on your ass. After a few minutes of feeling your soft hand wrapped around his cock, Neteyam ran one of his hands up your otter thigh to your loincloth and pulled it to the side, he used a finger to hold it and ran the other two fingers through your folds.  

Your movements stuttered when you felt the cool air, you’ve never felt like this for anyone before. “So wet...” you heard him mumble as he dipped his fingers in deeper feeling the warmness of your cunt. He pulls it back and undoes the knot holding your loincloth together and it falls off your curves.  

Neteyam makes no move to toss it aside, your cunt is exposed that's all he wants. Your tail wraps around his forearm when he removes your hand from his cock and strokes it a couple times before tapping it on your clit. Your body tenses up at the feeling, “Neteyam...” you whisper into the air, your head leans back on his shoulder bringing your body closer together. Neteyam didn’t bother giving you a real answer, just settled on shushing your pleads.  

When he slips his tip inside you, the stretch pained a bit, his cock was massive. He pushed in slowly until he was fully situated inside you, Neteyam let out a sigh and dug his face into your neck, squeezing your tits in his hand that was wrapped under your body, listening to your whimper adjusting to him. 

When he starts moving, slowly speeding up his thrust. His hands rub along your body, pinching and tugging on your harden nipples, sweet talks you through his thrust. He hits the spot so perfectly you could come any minute. “Squeezing me so tight doll, you loved getting fucked like this? By a stranger? You are so sexy baby, taking me so well” his voice is so sultry, you could come just listening to him talk. His words coax out your next orgasm and you beg him not to stop, chanting his name like you had no other words. 

His hand moved to grab your kuru that laid pretty on your back and ran his fingers gently to the bottom. The feeling sent jolts of electricity up your spine, your eyes widen at the feeling, ‘what is he doing?’ you wanted to ask but his thrust made you breathless. When his hand made it to the base, he gripped the tendrils sending shock waves through you. Your cunt clenched when he brought it up to his mouth kissing the tendrils on your kuru. He stuck his tongue out and let your nerve latch onto him. 

The feeling made you cry. Tears pour from your eyes as you beg him, “Fuck me- fuck me hard pleaseeeee Net-teyam!” you scream out begging him for more. Your sounds went straight to his cock, how could he not give you what you want, after all, he wants to keep you. 

“Fuck sweet girl, you like it when I play with you like this huh? Look at you crying and begging for more..” he chuckles, “gonna be mine baby? Gonna let me make you all mine” his tone suggested it was not really an option for you to decide but you overlooked it feeling his godly thrust in your cunt, “Fuck- oh Eywa, gripping me so tight baby” his stimulation send you over the edge for the third time, gushing on his cock again.  

Neteyam doesn’t stop after you come for the second time, he overstimulates you moving at the same brutally hard pace. Your toes curl, “You like that huh? Being such a good doll for me” Neteyam whispered in your ear. He lets go of your braid and pull his over his shoulder. He doesn’t connect them though; he brings his kuru up to your breast and latches the tendrils onto your nipple. He lets out a sexy groan at the feeling and buries his head in your neck again, kissing and biting the skin. 

You draw blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, you feel like your mind is hazy from all the stimulation, your eyes roll so far back you swear you saw your brain. “You didn’t answer my question pretty girl...gonna let me make you mine?” his voice is so calming, makes you even wetter, you didn’t think that was possible. “Yea- yes, yours” you stutter out words trying to make sense. 

Unfortunately for you, you had no idea what you just agreed too, “I knew you would say yes, gonna make you love me so much you’ll never want to leave baby” his grin is wide as he thought ‘not that you could anyways’ before he pulled both your braids to hold in both his hands and connected them.  

Your eyes widen, your pupils dilate as you go through so much emotions, the happiness, the pleasure, the obsession. But the problem is, these aren’t your feelings. Neteyam on the other hand feels much different than you, his hips stutter as he feels the unbelievable about of pleasure, he’s making you feel, he knows now you have no thoughts, he feels amazing from the ego boost he gets from this.  

That is until he feels the confusion, when you wiggle in his grasp trying to turn around but his strong arms keep you in place, “Shhh, everything is alright now I've got you and I won’t let you go?” his words send you spiraling but you do not have the mental capacity to pull your thoughts together. He doesn’t help when his hand comes down to your waist pulling you into his hard thrust, you moan loudly when you release for the fourth time. 

Neteyam feels it through to bond and the wetness on his cock, it is only now he feels like he wants to come, he wants to come inside you, “Baby wanna cum inside you, ok? Gonna give you all my babies yea?” Neteyam doesn’t wait for your response before he is pumping his cum deep inside your stretched-out cunt. He cums with a sweet moan of your name and you feel it through the bond.  

But the feeling of ecstasy doesn’t last long as you pass out right after, falling asleep after all the stimulation you have just gone through. When Neteyam comes down from his high, he noticed you are asleep, he makes no move to sever the bond or pull out of you, opting to just hold you close and go to bed. 

The next morning when you are awake, your eyes feel groggy but you feel so refreshed, you slept so soundly you feeling like you have never had a better night sleep. Your thoughts are pulling away by the smell of food cooking, you look around the unfamiliar place suddenly remembering where you are, when you look around the room there he was, Neteyam sat cooking some breakfast for you over a small fire. Your thought process from last night is still in shambles but you swing your legs over the hammock sitting up and facing him. You do not say anything to him but he does quickly notice you are up.  

Neteyam smiles widely at you removing the food from the makeshift pot and plating it in a small leaf before walking up to you, “Good morning muntxate (mate)” his wording catches you off guard. Mate? Did he just call you his- 

“What?” you blurt out, “what? I'm simply telling my mate good morning, what part do you not understand” Neteyam seems calm for what he said, ‘this man crazy?’ 

“We mated last night during out nightly endeavors, I asked you if you wanted to be mine and you said yes” your jaw is stiff as you stare at him with an open mouth, “Now you are my wife to care for, I will show you I am worthy, I just could not let the time pass when you would have to leave and I would never see you again, so decided to keep you here, Please eat” his words hit you like a train, you open and shut your mouth multiple times not having any words to utter. 

“You decided, that it would be okay for you to mate me while I wasn’t in my right mind and keep me here as what? A captive?” your words make his chuckle, “you were out of your mind, weren’t you? But I have no doubt you loved it” he laughs ignoring everything else you said. “Neteyam! Are you hearing yourself? You mated me without my permission” you raise your voice at him which made him angry. 

His swiftly kneels face level to you and snatch you closer by the neck, “Listen to me, that is no way for you to talk to your mate. I am your husband you are my wife now muntxate, do not make the mistake of misbehaving, check your fucking tone when you are speaking to me” His voice was stern you’ve never heard this before. Your ears pinned back and your tail curled in on itself. You were so submissive to this stranger.  

“I was just saying that- that you could have courted me first” your eyes drop to the floor. Your small words make him laugh, “And risk you leaving here and me never seeing you again? I could not take that chance I told you. I will be everything you need; you do not have to fear me” his tone went right back to the fun-loving tone he was using before like he didn’t just almost cut off your air supply. 

You do not speak after that, just watch him walk around the hut cleaning up to place, he gave you a bath and let you soak your sore skin in a tub while he rubbed you down, he even went as far as to cut up his extra loincloths and make you clean clothing after your shower, ‘is this how marriage would always be with him? Would he treat you like for the rest of your life?’  

Neteyam told you about the first time he saw you while you were asleep, how he kept you safe from the shadows of the trees, how he thought you were the most beautiful, gorgeous person he had ever met, and as crazy as it might sound, you quite liked the way he viewed you. He said he thanked Eywa when he brought you into his direction, he even thanked the great mother for the viperwolves that he saved you from, effectively introducing you.  

Listening to him talk made you second guess his actions, how could such a noble, respectful, loving man forcefully mate you, maybe you had it all wrong, maybe you were meant to be mated to this man, he was supposed to do that, maybe Eywa guided him and he is just too shy to say. You haven’t had to lift a finger all day, Neteyam happily complied with your wishes. Maybe you are meant to be his muntxate, why would you want to willingly leave a man that treats you like you are an angel sent from Eywa just for him alone? Maybe you are meant to be all his.   

✨I hope you enjoy reading! Any feedback is always welcome. Repost, comments and likes are always appreciated!

Taglist:

@rivatar @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @xrollingmyeyesx @quicktosimp @m1tsu-ki

[pursuitseternal]

“𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝓂:”

𝒜!𝒜𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝒾𝒸

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | E | 2K

🎨🎁 for Stacey Monroe on twt and BlueSky

Summary: You burn, in heat and needing to mate… and your Master is more than willing to help his *dearest pet*

CW: Cw: Breeding for impregnating, bdsm, master/pet, slight degradation, PiV, reader in heat, faced fuck, mating press, ascendant stamina 😈

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

The very air tastes of him, you stick your tongue out. He’s been in this room, the sweet sweat of his body still lingers as he passed this way recently. Your mind is a mess, a primal mush of need and pheromones.

Your bare feet step blindly, compelled by your core. Your cunt clenching in time with your progress as you wander up the stairs. “He’s here,” you say to yourself, voice hissing as you pant in heat.

For you are in heat.

Your blood sings for your maker. Your folds seep with need. Your skin is damp with sweat and flushed with desire. Only his cock will make you whole, only his cum will douse the inferno.

You make it to the bedroom, hearing his movements within. His heart is skipping, contented as he moves, your vampiric hearing hones in on that low pitter patter of your creator, a rhythm as familiar as the march of eternity.

Noises sound almost underwater with the way your pulse beats, even undead your heart is in a frenzy, and it’ll stay that way…

…until you flood your cunt with seed, letting it take root and make your belly swell.

You whimper his name, your mouth salivating his scent thickens. “Astarion…” Throat thick with spit-slick, his name sounds like a high-pitched growl from your lips as you wet them. Then you enter his bedroom, his lithe form eagerly prowling from the far side of his bed, those massive wooden posters now wound in red silk ropes that extend to the center.

The candlelight flickers over his pale skin, caressing the lines and angles of his bare chest and leather-clad legs. Fuck, it makes you drool, a thin line of your saliva dripping down from the corner of your mouth. He moves with stealth, assured he knows exactly what to do, a plan in place as he prepares his bed for you.

Those pointed ears twitch as you enter, a sinuous smile creeping over his lips as he turns in your direction.

He lifts his head, scarlet gaze fixing on you as his nostrils flare. “Mmm, pet, you smell… delicious.” His hand closes around your wrist, a firm pressure, a guiding pressure. It steadies you as he pulls you to his bed and lays you down. His touch is warm, even on your burning skin, fingers leaving trails of fire as he positions you spread eagle, your arms resting comfortably above your head. The silken rope soothes you as he binds your arms, the tug of your limbs just painful enough to ground you…

To make you present to his attentions and pull you from your cloud of lust.

A single nail trails down the inner flesh of your arm, following the rises and dips of your body and leaving a trail of molten heat in its wake.

“Dearest pet,” your master’s voice caresses your very mind as he peers down at you, scarlet eyes aglow from his power, “what a beautiful feast spread so willingly for me.” More of his fingers now wander down to your breast, bare as the day you were born, squeezing it to dig those nails delightfully into your skin. Releasing you, he brings a finger to flick just nipple.

And your cunt starts to leak into the sheets. A keening cry slips from your slack mouth. “More,” you whine repeatedly.

And he is more than willing to satisfy.

“My favorite sound, the desperate cries of a whore, just unraveling for her master,” he purrs, chuckling as he climbs over your body. That frame of unmatched, ascendant strength cages you in, hands by your head, leg splaying your cunt wide open to feel his bulge as he lowers it. That clothed cock slots perfectly where you ache in delicious pain.

Instantly you grind, wrapping your legs around him. Friction, you need it, your body screams at you. Hormones racing in your blood to have him release his cock and pound you.

But you feel his anger before anything else. “Bad girl,” he growls, his sudden movements making you gasp as he pushes up, hands pinning your thighs back to the bed. “You are mine to fuck, mine to pleasure, mine to breed.”

He looks down on you, his twisted delight at your insolence is etched on the angles of his face. Lips part in a wide-fanged grin, and his fingers work the fasteners of leathers. “My sweet pet, it’s that time, hm? Those days where your urge to fuck outweighs your hunger for blood.” He drags his hands down your chest, scoring his nails just lightly to heighten your senses.

“Gods, I love this time of the year,” he groans, eyeing you like they prey you are, “helpless and mindless and ready for a good fuck, is that it, pet?”

You whine as he works himself towards your sly smile on his knees, until you’re looking straight up his torso.

The sight makes you buck your unburdened hips. “You’re going the wrong way, master…” you manage to choke out. Then, you watch as his hands deftly free his cock, the buttons almost popping off as they open. He’s flushed, rock hard and leaking.

That length bobs as he looks down at you, a sadistic smile on his plush lips, his thumb sliding into your mouth to pull it open. “First, you’ll suck me, then, if you’re eager, I’ll breed you… fuck you so full of cum your belly swells.”

His own hand runs down his torso, nails dragging over the rises of his muscles until he grips the base of his cock.

“Is that what you want, pet? Want me to fuck a child into you again… make you swell with my offspring? Or are you too mindless and drooling to reply?” He gives that wicked, rumbling laugh as he presses his precum-slick slit to rub your lips. To mark your mouth as his to fuck.

Bitter sticky fluid touches your tongue and instantly your body hums to life. “Yes, Master,” the words barely make sense to the ear around his cock as you suck him in. The weight of him traps your tongue as you try to speak, the all-too familiar veins of his shaft caressing it as he thrusts home.

Fingers and nails grab your head, hips snapping to fuck your mouth. He begins with only a few slower slides into your mouth before he snarls, losing control as he plunders that warm cavern. The muscles of his pelvic slam into your forehead and nose, his balls slap against your chin and neck as he ruts down your throat.

“Such a pleasing cocksleeve, such a willing whore,” he snarls in deep chested tones, voice roughed with his efforts. “You make such a beautiful vessel for our offspring. I can hardly wait to see you swollen… to make you bounce your beautiful, rounded body on my cock again…”

Tears leak from your eyes at the memories and images he conjures, his words that mix of praise and insult only making your cunt throb harder. You keen around his cock as it jabs the back of your throat. So hard and leaking, you can feel him readying to blow… your hips buck against nothing. Just a constant slow slap of your ass back on the bed to remind him where he needs to come.

“Heh,” he pants, his laugh more of a growl, a feral sound from his throat. “Eager, my treasure?” He slows, one last thrust deep enough to make your neck strain open until you gag, and he pulls his length free. He is too graceful to scramble, that lean pale body sinuous as he slides back between your thighs, his mouth covering yours to taste yours.

Spit and early cum on your tongue that you selfishly thrust inside his mouth, a gratified hum rattling your teeth as he groans in appreciation. “I do so love the taste of you… after you’ve tasted me…”

You chuckle, that aged line far from faded in its ability to make you clench.

But this time at last you clench around something… that blunted tip of his cock teases at your entrance, coaxing your own pathetic noises. It slides in so easily with how much slick there is. But, he’s determined to make you insane with lust. Only an inch inside you… then back out. Only a bit more… he thrusts, fast but shallow.

And you swear your womb is throbbing, your cervix screaming to be rammed until he floods you with what you crave.

“Master… master…” his title, his name tumbles pleas after plea as you yet endure this torture that only makes you weep from your eyes and your cunt.

At last, his hands find purchase under your knees, folding you in half and raising your entrance to the ceiling. Still seated inside you, he thrusts deep, mounting you to fuck. “Of course, my pet,” he pants at last. “Who am I to deny you what your body truly craves?”

All control snaps, all sense of restraint evaporating like the sweat that sticks to your whole body as he fucks. His mouth consumes yours, tongue addicted to the taste of your essences mingled. Your two made into one… just as he is about to do inside you.

To fill you with him to make something new… a bit of him and a bit of you…

“Fuck, Astarion,” the very idea of swelling with his offspring makes you clench as he bottoms out over and over again.

“That’s it, pet. Make room for Master so I can give you our child,” his voice rumbles in your ear. His head nuzzles against your neck, his fangs scraping and not biting your skin. Every thrust is a grunt, vocal cords fraying as he grows louder and tougher. His chest vibrates against yours as his hips snap. He chases his release, but not at the expense of yours.

The way your whole body pulses with the need for him… to take him deeper and harder, it makes you rock your hips and tug on the restraints on your arms.

“Mine… mine… MINE,” he growls into your ear, one hand leaving your leg to claw hard into your breast once more. A merciless squeeze around its fullness, a playful nip in your neck to taste you blood, and he sends your careening into orgasm.

All you know is the bloom of heat and the slap of wet flesh between your thighs. It soothes you, calms you… and finally with a roar, he completes you, seed pulsing and flooding your womb to take root again.

“Good… good… girl,” he rumbles the final word. A single, tender kiss on the underside of your ear is his one soft sigh of affection before he pulls out. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts however, just to be sure his cum is deep inside you.

Those crimson eyes scan his work, long nailed fingers raking up your ass to gather the seed that drips out before he shoves it back inside your channel. “Really darling, now don’t move a muscle. We want this to take, don’t we?”

That smirk that flashes down at you makes your walls clench, making more of his cream leak back out.

“Tch,” he sneers. “If you’re going to be so stubborn about it,” he leans in to whisper against your lips, “then I’ll just have to be more… persistent this time around.”

Your world spins as he flips you, twisting your bound arms to splay you on your belly.

And you grin, already sliding yourself up on your knees, face down into your sweat-soaked sheets. Ass in the air, you’re ready for more.

Ready to be mounted and mated. Ready to make room for him.

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Having the attention of Oberyn

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Oberyn being clingy

~~~

Vipers were notorious creatures; quick, deadly, and adept hunters who'd strike and catch their prey before the poor creature even realized its intentions. They were beautiful with scales that glimmered under direct sunlight, smooth to the touch as they slithered against the skin, entrancing with their beauty and charm. The Red Viper was perhaps the most deadly with his ability to dance on the line between a vicious warrior and a dutiful lover. 

But alas, even with their sweet words and gentle touches, one always had to be careful of growing attached to a viper.

With the sun beginning to rise over the dunes in the east and chasing night away with its light, (Y/N) similarly went with the shadows. He moved quietly, managing to untangle himself from the prince without waking him and collecting the clothes Oberyn had haphazardly tossed around his room. Mindful of the crinkling of the clothes, he slipped them back on and spared the sleeping prince one last glance, ensuring his chest continued its steady rise and fall and his eyes remained closed. 

It was not uncommon for figures to be seen coming and going from the bedchambers of the prince, ladies and men alike slipping away for whatever reason after spending a night with Oberyn. Servants barely batted an eye at him when he stepped out into the halls, merely smiling and murmuring greetings before continuing down the halls. (Y/N) could only return the knowing smiles as he returned to his room, finding relief in the fact his elder brother remained in Starfall, although the whispers would no doubt reach him in no time. Those who resided in Sunspear or even in the shadow city sitting at the feet of the castle knew of Oberyn's infatuation with him, how he frequently courted and flirted but was left brushed aside. A game of chase they both equally enjoyed.

"And so you've finally fallen into his jaws," A husky voice purred right as he reached the doors of his bedchambers, hardly needing much else to identify who the voice belonged to. He pushed his door open and turned to face the heiress of Sunspear with the hint of a grin on his lips. "It was only a matter of time. Shame, though," Arianne batted her long lashes, slim fingers toying coyly with one of her dark curls. "I hoped to catch you first." 

"I'm not one of your little knights, Ari." (Y/N) replied, chuckling when her lips formed an exaggerated pout. "Nor am I my cousin."

"You most certainly are not." She laughed, crossing the distance swiftly and tossing her arms around him, purposefully pressing up against him and making use of the sheer silks she so often enjoyed wearing. With her shorter structure, she had to tilt her head up to look at him as she did with everyone else, flashing another smile. "You are much more interesting than Gerold. But alas, I love my uncle, and I will not steal his catch unless he decides to share." 

"Run along then, Ari." (Y/N) gave a small eye-roll, listening to her laugh echo down the hall when she retreated, the purple skirt of her dress flowing freely behind her. 

Once the sun rose and stepped out of hiding, (Y/N) knew it'd only be a matter of time before Oberyn would be on the prowl again, no doubt more determined to find him once he realized he'd snuck out of bed. He kept himself on the move, visiting his usual spots but only lingering long enough for a servant or courtier to be able to point Oberyn in the right direction.

It'd always been fun; pretending as if he wasn't fully aware he was being hunted down by the Red Viper. It'd started as youths when his parents had brought him to Sunspear, back when his siblings, Arthur and Ashara, as well as Elia Martell, were still living and breathing. (Y/N) had never given in to the prince, but he supposed Oberyn had caught him in a better mood than usual.

(Y/N) peeked over his shoulder, his footsteps light and quick while he walked, gingerly plucking a plum from one of the trays once he confirmed he was in the clear. He stepped forward toward the railings overlooking the gardens, searching for any sign of Oberyn or one of his Sand Snakes who'd no doubt betray him in exchange for helping their father. He bit into the plum, tasting the tart flavor from the skin and then a sweetness. He considered heading to the Water Gardens but right as the thought crossed his mind, arms wrapped around him from behind and caged him against the railing.

"Little Star," Oberyn's familiar voice murmured in his ear, lips brushing over his earlobe before dipping to kiss the base of his neck. (Y/N) tried biting back a smile. "You left too soon. There was more fun to be had."

"Was there? I thought that perhaps you'd be... too tired." (Y/N) replied teasingly, taking another bite of the plum before Oberyn spun him around to be chest to chest. His dark eyes narrowed playfully yet he planted a chaste kiss between (Y/N)'s brows. "A man of your age needs much rest, no?"

"You say that as if you're Arianne's age." Oberyn huffed, palms moving to run along (Y/N)'s hips and back with a familiar spark igniting in his eyes. He glanced at the bitten fruit in his hand and arched a questioning brow, the corner of his lips twitching upward when (Y/N) offered the rest to him. Instead of plucking the fruit from his hand, Oberyn swooped in to kiss him, tongue darting between his lips. (Y/N) couldn't help the muffled laugh that escaped him, his hand lightly shoving Oberyn's shoulder and breaking the kiss. 

"I should have known." (Y/N) allowed himself to melt into Oberyn's arms when he brushed their noses together despite knowing fully well how enchanting the Red Viper's eyes were. 

"Come," Oberyn tugged on his hips and kissed the corner of his lips. "You must make this morning's escape up to me, Little Star."

[evieolo]

Breathy — Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Contains: SMUT!!/fem!receiving/fingering/aftercare

Request: Reader comes home after a long day and is super tired and stressed and Matt wants to take care of her

“How was work?” Matt’s asking the second you enter his house.

You sigh, feeling your social battery at an all-time low, “It was Ok.” You mutter, tossing your keys to the nearest table, you step closer to Matt wrapping him into a tight hug, and breathe deeply against him.

“Ok?” Matt questions, he laughs slightly reading into your body language, “What’s wrong?”

You pout and pull away from the hug, looking straight into his eyes. “I just wanted to spend time with you, but I’m too tired now. So now your nights going to be ruined.”

Matt smiles and nips a kiss to your neck, trailing his hands down from your waist to the bumps of your hips. “Baby, my night isn’t ruined.” He moves his left palm from your hips to your ass, giving your butt a light squeeze before directing his palm’s attention to your shoulders, “Do you want a massage?” He hums, acting before you can respond, kneading his hands through the knots in your shoulder blades.

You shake your head ‘no’ shrugging his hands off your shoulders and let out a deep sigh, “Work was just…hard today.” You express, letting your shoulders tense back up at the reminiscence of the day.

Matt notices your strained attitude and frowns slightly before speaking,

“you’re so stressed, pretty, how about I take care of you.”

You look at him, a hungry but understanding look in his eyes. One that says he wants to help you out definitely sexually, but there’s a gleam of sympathy in his look.

You nod, feeling heat bubble in your core and quickly pull his head to yours. Tangling his lips with yours in a matter of seconds.

He kisses you sensually, the kiss itself has your worries melting away, but his hands have carnal desires, one moving to the underside of your thigh, and lifting it up, hoisting it against his side, the other groping your ass.

You get the memo and wrap your legs tightly around his waist, still locked in a kiss.

Matt presses your back against the nearest wall, getting a better grip on your hips before he makes his way to his room, shoving the door open with a half-occupied palm and prowling to his bed, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you down while he sets you on the mattress.

Hunching over you, Matt grabs a pillow from the head of his bed and places it above where your head sits. “Scoot up baby, get comfortable.” He hums. You oblige and rest your head on his satin pillow, sighing as the silk of his pillowcase elevates your head and neck with comfort.

Matt loses himself staring at you, he can’t help it you’re beautiful. But you’re also aching to be touched and Matt’s doing everything but touching you.

Matt notices the ‘discomfort’ in your expression and coos at you, “What do you need sweetie?” He questions, sultry sweet coming off his tongue.

You whine, shimmying in your position trying to possibly get closer to him. “Need you to touch me, please Matty.” You plead.

Matt nods admiring you for a moment more before gripping the band of your work pants and slipping them down your thighs swiftly, “No need to beg sweetie, I’m here to make you feel good.”

Your heat throbs in anticipation, waiting for Matt to do something. Even the slightest of actions to stimulate you.

This, he does, pressing a kiss to your clothed heat through your thin panties. This sends a shiver up your spine.

Refusing to beg anymore, you let Matt move at his mannerly pace, lucky, he pulls your panties off and lets them loom by your knees, ducking under them to get closer access to your heat.

He runs a finger through your slit. Finally. And admires the gleaming wetness that coats it before sticking his finger in his mouth, sucking the taste of you off of his digit slowly and slipping his finger out of his mouth with a light ‘pop’

“You taste so good, baby.” He grins, moving closer to your wetness.

Momentarily his hot breath fans you, before his lips meet your bud and he sucks.

You moan breathlessly, feeling pleasure overtake your senses, and squirm at the overwhelming pleasure.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” Matt breathes pulling away. He was eating you out for his pleasure.

He presses another kiss to your throbbing clit before slowly licking a stripe up your slick. Shivering at the contact, you whine, nearly about to tell him to stop teasing when he shoves his tongue into your hole, plunging it quickly in and out of your wetness and wriggling it inside of you while he does so.

Matt’s messy while he does this, decorating his face with a mix of his spit and your wetness, your mind is going into a frenzy.

The pressure of your upcoming orgasm has your stomach knotting, on top of that, it's making you sleepy. No thoughts are on your mind but Matt - Matt and his tongue that’s now running flat against your slick.

Your breathy moans fill the room, usually, you’re louder. Matt knows you don’t moan as loud when it’s late. You’re tired. Knowing this, he’s fueled further - he wants to hear your pretty noises.

Wet noises fill the room as Matt’s lips run against you, bumping your clit with every movement. Then he adds a finger, one to test the waters, but quickly, he adds a second, pumping them quickly into your heat while his mouth stimulates your clit.

“Fuck, Matty s’good” You moan lightly.

Pulling away momentarily, Matt pauses to speak, “I’m making you feel good pretty girl?” He confirms, not waiting for your response before he starts lapping at your heat again - this time his tongue flicking more rapidly over your bud.

Your eyes pinch shut, struggling to form words you choke out a strangled, “So good.” Being brought, through your tiredness to an orgasm.

Matt’s fingers plunge into you, ramming your g-spot easily for the nth time, this sets you over the edge. You feel a wave of ecstasy crash over you, then your legs start to shake.

Matt notices this, smiling slightly into your heat before continuing at the same pace.

“M’cumming,” You whimper out through a trail of quiet moans.

Matt acknowledges this with a hum, sending a vibration straight to your core, and then your orgasm is crashing down on you. Your walls spasm, clenching around Matt’s fingers as you release.

Matt pulls his face away from your heat but continues thrusting his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm. Limply, your hips jolt up into his, signaling the slight overstimulation he’s bringing you. Matt notices.

“You did so good for me baby,” He coos, dragging his fingers out of you, “So, so good.”

You nod at his words, opening your lidded eyes to look down at him. He makes this task easier, lifting himself out of the space between your thighs and leaning over you at face level.

“Wanna taste yourself?” He asks, sensually hinting for a kiss. You nod, drowsily from your orgasm, and Matt cups your face into a kiss, moving sloppily against your tired list.

You hum into the kiss, pulling him closer to you (if even possible) by tugging at his hair. Tasing the foreign honey of your slick on his tongue you pull away from the kiss. Giving him a short peck before pushing him away slightly.

Matt stands, towering over you as he does so. “Still stressed baby?” He coos.

You shake your head ‘no’ and Matt smiles lightly, “Are you gonna sleep now?” He questions, helping you reposition so you’re lying at the head of the bed.

You nod again, “Yes please.”

Matt smiles, “Want me to tuck you in?” He asks jokingly, “mhm” you mumble, “I also want cuddles.” You slur drowsily.

Matt chuckles and drapes the comfort out over you. You hum as the satin of the blanket hits your skin.

Matt strolls over to the edge of his room, flicking the light off before walking back to his bed, dipping the mattress towards him as he sinks into the sheets, he lays next to you. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead and muttering out a ‘good night’ before he realizes you’re already asleep.

[itsphoenix0724]

All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched woods, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target. 

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you. 

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you. 

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away. 

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine. 

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul. 

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him. 

But how could you not? 

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth. 

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf. 

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you. 

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily. 

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try. 

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight. 

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games. 

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core. 

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords. 

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs. 

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours. 

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck. 

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this. 

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body. 

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention. 

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your eyes roll back in your head. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs. 

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look. 

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement. 

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands. 

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.