Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
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A Page From Another's Book
Eris Week - Day 1 - Bonds and Bargains
Summary - After 2 full years without you acknowledging the bond, Eris is willing to do whatever it takes for just a moment of your time
Warnings - Smut, choking (kind of), mating bonds, forced proximity, slight manipulation, and possibly a few missed errors. If you see them, no, you didn't 👀
A/N - Happy @erisweekofficial! I have challenged myself this week to try to use both prompts in one fic. Why? Because I could not choose! They were so good this year.
🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂
Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears 💕💕
The look in your eyes was not what a male wanted to see from their mate. You looked at Eris like you hated him, a soft snarl always playing on lips too plush to have been real.
But Gods that look did things to him. Things that had his own smirk growing as you two stared at each other in silence, waiting for Rhysand to finish looked over the contact for trade Beron had forced his heir to come present. Rhysand was using his hand to hide a smirk.
The scent of the bond between Eris and y/n was potent. Honey and apples. Ginger and cinnamon. The High Lord understood now why so many of his family members complained about the way his and Feyre's scents mix. He could hardly tell who was who anymore but he couldn't stop breathing it in all the same.
“You can go sister, I believe I can hold my own against our dear Eris,” Rhysand dismissed you so easily. Your eyes met his in silent conversation before you stood, black dress swishing as you did and walked out of the room.
Eris felt himself relax then, body melting as he and Rhysand began to show each other vulnerability, “You told me she'd warm up to me by now.”
Rhys pinched his brows, “Y/n is a complex creature. Beautiful as the rising moon, complex as the stars.”
“And crafted from the very darkness between them,” Eris's fingers rolled, nails tapping the table in a pattern of annoyance. “What do I do?”
“Force her into a bargain,” Rhysand was half joking as he struck out a line on Beron's trade agreement. He paused, sharp mind and eyes hitting Eris. “That.. May actually work.”
Eris looked at Rhysand like he had grown two heads, “She would not make a bargain with me, she hates me.”
“She likes knowledge more than she hates you, trust me. And, Eris Vanserra, you live in a court she has never been able to go to.”
Eris fell into a brief moment of silence, “And you believe this could work?”
“It turned out well for me,” Rhysand picked at his jacket. “Make a bargain with her, force her to spend time with you.”
Rhysand slid the contract back over, a look of annoyance on his face as he did, "Your father,” the word spoken with such disdain, “needs to learn what fair terms actually means.”
“I do not believe my Father would know fair if it bit him in the ass,” that snake like smirk came forward. “Luckily, it will be me you deal with soon-”
“Is it not you I deal with already,” Rhys groaned. “Anyways, y/n. Bargain her a week in Autumn in exchange for intel.” He said it so casually, having accepted what the Fates and Cauldron decided would be with you the second the bond snapped during the war with Hybern.
And what a dramatic way for it to have snapped. A fight between Autumn and Night's emissaries leading to you pinning the heir to the ground, dagger at his throat.
It was one thing you and Azriel had in common:
Going for the jugular whenever you two deemed it fit.
Rhys waved a hand dismissing Eris, “I'm sure she is in the hall, waiting to guide you to your room.”
And you were, leathers clinging to every curve, one wing stretched out while you pulled your arm across your body, “Sore, assassin?”
Defiant eyes met his, narrowing slightly as he stared, “Only by the sight of you, heirling.” You began to walk away from him, forcing Eris to follow you to his room in Hewn City. Footsteps fell in time, breathing in sync as the bond between you two pulled and flickered.
It wasn't tense, but the quiet that lingered was thick. There were mountains of emotions between you two. Anger that lingered from years of what he claims was all an act and lies.
“You look beautiful today,” you were the only being he ever spoke this gently to. “Your hair has gotten longer.”
“Are we making casual observations?”
Eris smirked at the way your held a bite yet your eyes were soft. You were truly the most beautiful creature he had ever gotten to lay eyes on. In a dress, armor, casual clothing, leathers. Your confidence was unmatched. You owned every room you walked into. He admired that about you.
Eris opened the door to his room, hand going just above the small of your back to usher you in, “I have an offer for you.”
You leaned against the wall, a shadow coming to check on you. It indicated he was on a time crunch, that your brother would be coming soon. “I am listening.”
“Come with me to Autumn. A week of your time in one of my private residences in exchange for intel on my father.”
Your mind began to race at the possibilities. Bringing home info to Rhysand that the Night Court could use was like dangling a sparkling object infront of a fish. He knew you would bite. “What is in it for you?”
“You. Just one week where I get to see my mate in my court, in our fashion, enjoying our food. Such a small thing to give me in exchange for the knowledge I will give you, and your ability to stay safely in a court you've never enjoyed.”
It was tempting, so tempting the shadow on your shoulder panicked and ran to Azriel. “What's the catch?” You moved to sit on the chair, long legs crossing at the ankles as the two of you continued staring each other down.
“No catch, my lady.” He moved to you, a hand touching the loose hair from your braid. It was a bold and dangerous choice, touching you so freely. “Just a week in exchange for information. That's all I wager.”
His hand raised to you, the freckled skin calloused from training and earning his place as a general, but so soft. Hands spoke volumes to you, and his were so similar to Rhysand's. You raised your hand slowly and took his, feeling the warmth from his skin heating yours.
The bargain mark for you was nothing, a small rune on the inside of your left ring finger, but he flinched slightly before moving to the mirror across the room and pulling up his shirt. He rolled his eyes at the small matching rune above his heart. “What does it say?”
“Agape,” you responded quietly. “We need to leave if you plan on getting out of this alive. Azriel is coming.”
He grabbed your without hesitation, without even putting his shirt back on. Fire and smoke surrounded you before the silence of a cabin. Soft whimpers immediately started before howling. Loud howling. 12 hounds all began to point their noses to the skies they couldn't see. It was a celebration of his arrival home before the smallest then began to pawn at the door.
Eris just smiled as he made his way over, “Be back before dinner,” he told them, patting each one on the head as they can out into the warded clearing. Your feet carried you behind them, eyes wide in wonder as you took in the colors of the trees.
Warmth.
A fireplace with a good book and spiced cider.
Chilled air and pumpkins.
You had always longed to see Autumn, but Beron's prejudice towards Illyrians always got in the way. “Eris..” You were speechless as you admired the woods, the crunchy leaves on the ground. “Its-”
“Home,” he finished as he leaned on the railing watching his hounds. “We're right on the border of Autumn and Winter. There are times where the run rises and sets on the creek and lake near by that makes the snow of Winter appear like it is on fire.” His smile was so soft, eyes relaxed, muscles even slowly loosing tension. “This is my favorite cabin I have. The village nearby is quiet, open minded, hates my father.”
“That seems to be a reoccurring theme,” you jumped in.
Eris smirked but didn't say anything. “Can I offer you more comfortable clothing? A drink?”
Night one with him was filled with you two reading silently, one of his hounds being the first to inch his way into your lap and cuddle. Rhysand had not checked in, Azriel had not searched for you. Not even a mocking letter from Nesta. It was peace, bliss that allowed your guard to fall down.
He allowed you to sleep alone in a spare bed, not even asking as you used your ability to shift to get rid of your wings for the night and stole his sweater to sleep in.
The smell of bacon woke you from your lay in. A rare lazy morning that had you stretching as you walked on in just his sweater.
It felt so domestic, natural to both of them. He wordlessly handed her coffee and sugar, sipping his own. He was shirtless, lean form on display and making your brain spiral to the what ifs. His sweatpants hung low on his hips as he continued cooked breakfast, knowing you could not do it.
“How far do you powers as a wild form go?” You glanced at him, not ready to speak without at least getting one sip of coffee in. His hands shot up in defense, a graceful step back as he did. “I am asking because I wanted to leave you with some marks so you could do shopping. Observe the village here.”
You only hummed, reaching for a finished piece of the crispy bacon and bending down to give it to the sweet hound that had attached himself to you. “What's his name?”
Eris sneered as you gave his well trained pet a piece of bacon, dark brown eyes meeting his like it was a victory, “That is Whiskey.” The Hound seemed to skip away as you stood up, “And you will not spoil him.”
“Says the male who had 3 in his bed last night and the rest all in fluffy dog beds that a nicer than what some poor lower fae have.”
“They are orthopedic. Smoke hounds require comfort for their limbs,” his tone was definitely defensive. Almost parental. “They are faithful companions. They deserve comfort.”
You were thankful for your ability to hide laughter, but your eyes began to betray you. This male was not the one you knew, the one who you believed left your dear friend for dead. “To answer the earlier question, it's limitless, like Tamlin's ability, only less effort and my scent is hidden.”
“So you can spend my coin today,” he tossed the bag casually on the counter. He moved the pan from the heat before reaching around you, “You are even beautiful in the morning.” He'd carry the torch for you. He'd carry it even if you rejected the bond, as pathetic as that was.
Day two with him was filled with heated glances that grew the more he showed you who he was. Touches that lingered as he took you from shop to shop, purchasing candies, clothing, books.
He was a handsome male. You'd be a fool to lie if you said otherwise.
The third evening is when things became more. The bond was humming, desperate for anything to happen between you two. Music was playing softly as you two read again. You books on the history of Autumn, Eris a novel he refused to let you see the cover of. His fingers swayed his bookmark in a small dance, the movement as smooth as you had witnessed as he and Nesta glided across the floors of Hewn City.
“You're staring,” He said without looking to you. “Did your high lord never teach you it's impolite to stare?”
“Maybe if your bookmark wasn't waving all over the place while you read your smut,” you muttered back at him. Amber eyes met yours, brows raised as he mouth tried to formulate a response.
“It's not smut. It's a love story!”
You snatched the book from him, the brief contact of your body against his making the bond pound, “Her body sang for him. Each roll of his hips setting fire to her veins,” Your voice reading those lines had the scent in the air shifting. He could no longer mask his need for you as he took a deep breath. “His length filled her, reaching places inside of her she'd never find without him, pulling sob after sob from swollen lips as she held to him.”
“Enough.” He grabbed the novel back and drank his whiskey like a shot as he stared at you now.
No more words passed as you tell held eye contact.
No pointed remarks. No jokes.
The music seemed to fade as the bond began ringing in your ears.
2 years. 2 years if knowing who your mate was. 2 years without even so much as a kiss.
It was finally too much. You had never enjoyed slow burn romances. Why turn this into one when the longing lingered all the same.
Perhaps he closed the gap. Or maybe you did, but it happened. His lips on yours in a passionate kiss, dominating you quickly by tugging your hair back to angle your head.
There was no looming war. No assassinations waiting to happen. No lingering past wounds. Not as he lifted you, laying you down infront of the fire place.
Not as he pulled your shirt off, then his own.
Not as he kissed down your body, nipping and marking his favorite places to remind him to spend more time there later. Neither of you could wait. Neither of you wanted to.
Your bodies were born ready and aching for each other. Like two halves forced apart and just waiting to collide.
Even in the heat of this moment, he looked at you, eyes searching for a sign of doubt, for anything that didn't ring a resounding yes. All he found was lust. Heavy deep want weighing on both of your souls.
He reminded you that you two were nothing more than stardust. Stardust given life and form. Needs and wants. A chance.
You understood the book now as he filled you, stretching you after time spent without a partner. You understood that now, too. Understood why Lucien was all too happy to wait as well.
It had never felt like this. Sex had never felt like coming home. Like your soul was nurtured as he wrapped your legs around his hips. As he moved, he used the bond to instantly get his feedback. He wanted you to sing for him, to cry his name, and when he found that soft spot inside of you, he knew he could have it.
His movements focused on that spot as you grabbed his forearms, back arching off the ground for him, mouth falling into a silent scream.
“Look at me, y/n,” he panted. “Look at me when I make you see the heavens.”
His thumb moved to your clit, circling and rolling it in time with his hips, watching as your breasts bounced.
There wasn't an inch of you Eris wasn't instantly falling in love with. You were exquisite. Not too thin, curves in all the right places. Muscles strong and flexible.
“You are better than I dreamed,” he moaned. “A muse hidden to all but me.”
You whispered his name, eyes squeezing shut as the coil began to build and tighten. He would be the death of you. You of him if he wished, “Eris.”
“Sing for me, my fire.”
The coil built more and more, “Eris!”
He kept pushing and kept hitting that spot. He wouldn't last, not with the way you two fit like a puzzle. With the way your warmth hugged him. But you were also there, dangling from the edge by a string Eris held in his hands.
“Eris, please?”
“What do you need,” he whispered. “I want to hear it. Beg for me it.”
Your hands trembled as you moved his hand that wasn't occupied with your sensitive clit to your throat, eyes looking at him in silent understanding.
Life had not been gentle or kind to you, nor to him, love would not be either.
He squeezed softly, only enough to make you feel the euphoria. His pace picked up, driving hard and faster into you.
It was a chain reaction as you hit your high, screaming his name like you had in all of his dreams. He followed you over, groaning loudly before he praised you and worked you through your heightened state. Screams fell to soft whimpers, whimpers to pants.
Eris waited until the shaking set in, until he knew you were done to pull out before standing to grab a cloth to clean you. Soft kisses were shared as he took care of you before wrapping you both in a blanket.
You two said nothing as you processed what happened.
You didn't even mention the mark on his left hip. One that you knew. That matched Mor’s only hidden mark.
You just processed. Processed that you knew deep down that you loved him. Processed that in few days the bargain mark you shared would disappear from you both, fulfilled and nothing more than a smear on your histories.
In a few days, you'd be going back to the Night Court.
And you couldn't help but you find yourself considering if that was truly home.
How could it be when it wasn't where your mate was?
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