#dpthorst

This was sent two years ago I am so sorry kahdlfad

For you, my friend. Part 1/2.

content: dirty talk, banter, a lot of kissing, f!reader

divider: rmstitanics

She melts into your lips, her moans and tongue spilling into yours. Your body shakes off the surprise in a second and meet her just as desperately. Tongues tangle and moans mingle until lungs burn for air.

She pulls away, her dark eyes like hot coal on your skin, catching embers on places where they linger. But where her gaze is pure sin, her skin glows softly under the candlelight like a blushing peach. Poetry and praise rise to your throat, but your tongue has other plans.

"Not so icy now, are we, Ice Queen?" The words light your shared breaths like a fuse, and she ignites with amusement, slow and molten across her face.

She laughs—nothing short of music—and the sound settles around your heart and somewhere further down between your legs. "You're the only one who dares to call me that these days."

"I've always been the daring sort. I wouldn't be kissing you right now if I weren't." Your hands find her hips and squeeze through the sheer (good lord) fabric of her nightdress. She yelps, holding onto your shoulders, as you pull her close and press your hips flush together.

"Well." She huffs, and her arms slither over your shoulders and around your neck, meeting your stare with desire dressed as defiance. "You're not kissing me enough if you can still tease around like this."

Even when dishevelled and kiss-bruised, she commands attention. And like a loyal subject, you obey.

"Then I shall apply myself as you desire, my queen."

She meets you halfway, kissing you with a devastating softness. What remains of you commit her taste, moans, and smell into memory like a scribe hearing her death knell. The seconds pass with increasing desperation in a flurry of groping hands and backward steps until the back of your knees hit the side of the bed.

You fall onto the sheets together without breaking apart. Even when surrounded by premium silk and linen, they are all sandpaper compared to the softness of her skin. Neither can the filigrees on the ceiling compare to the panting beauty perched on your hips as she stares down at you.

Before you can speak, she makes quick work of your clothes. Her frenetic hands unlace and tug until you're in nothing but your sweat-coated skin, trembling from being wanted this thoroughly. When she starts fumbling with her own clothes, your hands still them by the wrists.

"Don't be so hasty. Allow me, your majesty."

Her face burns, but she allows you to do as you please. You unlace the drawstring on her chemise, and the ruffled collar parts to reveal her collar bones and the first hint of cleavage. Your hands seek out her thighs, and she gasps—a wonderful sound—as you trace up the sensitive curves of her hips and waist.

"Are you comfortable?" As if pulled from her reverie, she takes a second to nod.

"It's been a while," she whispers. Her eyes, unwilling to look at you, settle somewhere on your bare chest. The unspoken story in her confession weigh on her shoulders, dampening the desire that made her burn only moments ago. That won't do.

You lean up to kiss her again—a gentle assurance. "Then we'll take this slowly. Let's discover what makes you tick, hm?" Her eyelashes flutter in the dim light as she takes in a ragged breath.

"You're dangerous."

You laugh at that. "If only you know how many times I've thought too long of you and almost died."

Her mouth hangs open as she stares back in disbelief. "You're joking."

"Not in the slightest."

She bites her, mulling over her next words. "Will you tell me?"

"You seem awfully curious by my potential demise, my queen." You pinch at her hip, teasing.

"I'm involved so I deserve to know." She looks all mischief and delight as her previous fire rekindles.

"Very well."

You lean up, grasp her hips, and push her over in the next second. Now straddling her, you dip your head to her ear, breathing in her scent. "I can wax poetic the entire night about how your eyes have almost caused me to topple over from a ladder in the middle of painting a mural, or drink from a cup of paint water whe n I caught a whiff of lilies and remembered its fragrance from your wrist—but we only have one night where we can have each other fully, and heaven knows when another one might fall in our laps again."

Her gasp sparks a swell of satisfaction in you, kindling your lust into a fiery blaze. "But if you're still so curious," you continue, "allow me to write it on your body so that you may never forget."

Instead of diving headfirst between her legs, you create a trail of slow kisses down her neck and across her collar bones, drawing a necklace of plum-colored bruises there.

"That will considerably limit my wardrobe choices for the next few weeks."

"I'd rather have you completely naked if I could have it my way."

She slaps at your shoulder, but her peals of laughter show that she's more amused than offended.

"For your insolence, I could have your head."

"Oh, but I already plan on giving you that."

She gasps—more indignation that amusement this time—but the shock of red that colors her face means that your head will be off the chopping block and likely venture to more pleasurable parts in the foreseeable future.

"Now, let this humble servant work so that she can deliver on her promise."

To be continued.

(MILD SPOILER: SNOW IS GONNA GET WRECKED)

Do not @ Me with these. (This is my only time being shameless, as some of these have been in my head for a while.)

Here's a nice not Questiable one to start: Parn will NOT do anything to compromise any trust that his partner gives him, If his Partner doesn't want to do anything Risque or wants to straight up stop- he's perfectly fine with it, as long as his partner is happy then he's happy. If nothing is going on between the two- it will be a major cuddle session, they will be talking about random topics that pops up and it will most likely end with either Parn reading to his partner as they listen to him while they fall asleep on him as he pets their hair, his partner running their hands through his hair and petting his ears before kissing him on his forehead as he curls into them.He's content with just being with each other. Parn loves his partner so much it's scary.

Parn Reads to me as a service Top at times, But look me dead in the eyes, and tell me he wouldn't love being in charge for once. (An less extreme example is while during a heated makeout session, and his pulling away to ask if he could continue on-before his partner pulls him back down and either bites or licks his lower lip, signaling for him to kick it up a notch.)

BITING AND CLAWS NEED I SAY MORE?! (But like for real, I think His absolute favorite places to bite is the collarbone, base of the throat, back of the neck, the sides of the throat, and the inside of the wrist. - in short- basically, anywhere he can feel his partner's pulse quicken.) And he does, in fact, draw blood at times depending how hard he does it. To him, it's marking who his partner belongs to- as a way to sway people from even attempting to talk to his partner without him by their side. It's also gives him a odd sense of being prideful about his partner, He's the only one who can do this to his partner and make them unravel within his fangs, nobody else.

As for the claws, will sometimes forget to sheath his claws when being intimate, but the thrill of having his partner's life in his hands, adrenaline kicks in, in short riling himself up. (Yes, following from before can apply to the claws as well, he likes seeing the marks he's made.)

PINNING HIS PARTNER DOWN -he will- and is- going to pin his partner with a fraction of this strength at least once, before slowly purring near his partner's throat or ear as a way to rile them up. (The man is strong enough to do so He pushed the MC from Cursery through brick and mortar, it wouldn't surprise me at all if he did this.)

OH MY GOOOOD I SEE YOU I SEE YOU 👀 👀 👀

I absolutely agree with all of this. Parn is a very conscientious and considerate partner who will always put your pleasure above all. But with feline instincts in him, he's also possessive, territorial, and sometimes the CLAWS can't be helped when he's balls deep. He's WHIPPED and I think he's slightly obsessed with you, perhaps even harboring some sort of fascination teetering on the orgasmic when he feels, smells, and hears your blood under your skin.

I think his loving to play it dangerously with his fangs and claws, leaving marks and sometimes drawing blood, is belied by his utter adoration for you. To have you, whom Parn will hang the moon and stars for, willingly put her life in his hands, such a show of vulnerability and submission makes his heart and guts churn with yearning and affection. There is this urge to treat you as delicately as possible, treat you as gently as you deserve, have him slowly worship every part of your body with his hands and tongue.

But when you're needy and wanting under him, biting at his lip and whimpering for him to just take you and be rougher—well, how can he not indulge you?

This touch-starved prince. You'd think he'd cling to any fiber of princely honor, but centuries of fruitless search and licking his wounds in the darkness had made any pride or resolve as fragile as a threadbare cape. His voice would break to the stingiest lips, his mind would crumble to the lightest flutter of affection across his skin.