vampire!valarr — the coffin is lined with the deepest, softest black velvet, the color of a moonless sky. the inside is cool, a sanctuary from the sun he can no longer bear, smelling faintly of sandalwood and frost. he arranges you within it as if preparing a sacred offering, his movements slow, reverent. he lays you back, your head pillowed on the plush lining, and settles over you. his silver steak, longer and finer than in life, falls like a curtain around your faces. he moves inside you with a deep, relentless rhythm, the velvet whispering beneath you with every thrust. his mismatched eyes glow faintly in the dark, fixed on yours.
his fangs brush your throat, not piercing, just teasing. “hm?” he murmurs, his voice a soft, hypnotic hum against your skin. his hips snap forward, a fraction harder, making you gasp. “what’s wrong, pretty girl? am i being a little rough?” he kisses the corner of your mouth, his lips cool. “tell me.” he doesn’t wait for an answer. he sinks his fangs into the side of your neck, not to feed deeply, but to leave a bruising claim. the dual sensation-the deep, filling stretch of him and the sharp, sweet pain of his bite-makes you arch and whine, a helpless, eager sound. he drinks a sip, just a taste, and pulls back, licking the twin wounds. a soft, dark laugh rumbles in his chest, vibrating through you both. “you are,” he whispers, answering his own question. “you enjoy it. being so good for me, so perfect.” he kisses you, and you can taste your own blood, metallic and intimate, on his tongue.
“do you taste as sweet everywhere?”
vampire!aerion — the coffin is carved from a wood so dark it's almost black, polished to a high sheen, and lined with blood-red silk that feels sinfully smooth against your bare skin. he throws you into it, not lays you. there’s no reverence here, only hunger and impatience. he's on you before you can orient yourself in the dark, pushing your thighs apart. the silk is cold, his body is cold, but the friction between you is fire. his blue eyes burn like twin suns in the darkness, full of madness and something sinister.
“look at you,” he sneers, his voice a cruel, breathless rasp. his hips hammer into you, the coffin creaking with the force. “trapped in a box with a monster. and you're wet for it.” he leans down, his fangs gleaming. he doesn’t tease. he bites to hurt. he sinks them deep into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, and he drinks. not a sip. a greedy, pulling draw that makes you cry out, a sharp mix of pain and shocking, unwanted pleasure. he groans against your skin, his rhythm turning jagged and frantic. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”he pants, pulling back. blood-your blood-smears his perfect, cruel mouth. “fucking pathetic.” he licks his lips, watching you writhe beneath him, trapped by his body and his bite. “but it's what you deserve. it's what you want” he flips you over onto your stomach, the red silk slick under your cheek, and takes you again, harder, his fangs finding a new spot to claim as he drinks you down.
“your pulse is racing, dove. is it because of fear..or something else?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
a/n: vampire!valarr is finally here and i’ve literally had these ideas sitting in my notes for weeks.i was watching gotham knights and saw oscar morgan all covered in blood oohmygod
cw: blood, vampirism, feeding, biting, a bit of dark valarr, vampire valarr, fem!reader,obsessive behavior, possessiveness, erotic horror, unhealthy attachment, dependency themes, violence/intimacy overlap, explicit sexual content, coercive undertones
𝔅𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔐𝔢
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen whose first bite is a sacrament of agony and bliss. he is so, so gentle at first. his cool lips barely brush the frantic pulse at your throat, a kiss of apology. his hands, usually so decisive and strong, tremble as they frame your face, holding you with a reverence that makes you want to cry. “be still, my love,” he murmurs, his breath a cold sigh against your skin. “be so still for me.” and then the sharp, perfect puncture—a lightning bolt of pain so clean and swift it steals your breath. you gasp, your fingers flying to tangle in his hair, not to push him away, but to hold on as the world dissolves
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who loses all control when he tastes you. the first pull of your life into his is like a dam breaking. that princely restraint, the discipline, it all shatters. a low groan vibrates against your throat, a sound of pure desperate want. his arms tighten around you, crushing you to his chest as he drinks deeper, his movements turning from reverent to ravenous.
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who is driven mad by your whimpers. the little sounds of pain and pleasure you make go straight through him like a sword. he’ll growl, low in his throat, a feral sound, and his bite will deepen, not to hurt you, but to feel you more, to drown in you. when you tug his hair, he moans against your skin, he’s addicted—not just to your blood, but to your reactions, to the proof that you are giving yourself to him in the most intimate, devastating way possible.
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who would never, ever let you go once he’s started. if you tried to pull away, even weakly, it would awaken something terrifying in him. his arm would lock around your waist, his other hand cradling the back of your head, holding you in place with a gentle, unbreakable firmness. “shhh,” he’d whisper, his voice thick, blurred with your essence. “shhh, my darling, my only one. give it to me. let me have it. you are so sweet, you have no idea.” he drinks until he’s drunk on you
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who is horrifically, beautifully tender afterwards. when he finally, reluctantly detaches, it’s with a soft, wet sound that makes you blush. he’s panting, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his body shuddering with aftershocks. then, with a devotion that borders on worship, he licks the twin wounds clean, his tongue soothing the sting. he kisses each puncture with a softness that brings tears to your eyes, then trails his lips up the column of your throat to finally capture your mouth. you can taste yourself on his tongue—metallic, vital, yours—and it’s the most intimate kiss you’ve ever shared.
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who looks at the mark he left with a mixture of pride and terrible shame. his thumb, cold and gentle, will stroke over the delicate bruises blossoming around the bites. his perfect prince mask is gone, replaced by raw, vulnerable awe. “look what i’ve done to you,” he whispers, his voice wrecked. “my darling girl..marked by me. forgive me.”
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who finds you asleep in his bed, curled under the furs, your pulse a soft, steady rhythm he can hear from the doorway. he doesn’t wake you. he simply watches, memorizing the flutter of your eyelashes, the way your lips part slightly with each breath. then he slides into the sheets beside you, cold and deliberate, and drapes himself over your body like a second skin. his nose drags along your throat, inhaling the scent of your skin, the salt and warmth. when you stir,half conscious, he murmurs against your pulse point “stay asleep, sweet one.” and you do, surrendering to the dreamy haze as his fangs sink in. you don’t wake until morning, groggy and strangely content, with two small marks on your neck and the taste of copper on your tongue.
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who tastes you slowly, reverently, as if you are the first meal he’s ever been allowed to savor. he doesn’t rush. he traces the line of your collarbone with the tip of his tongue first, tasting the salt of your skin, the faint sweetness of the oil you rubbed into your shoulders. he nips at your earlobe, your jaw, the hollow behind your ear. by the time he reaches your wrist, you’re trembling, half naked beneath his robes, cunt slick and aching. he holds your arm like it’s something precious, turns it over, presses his lips to the delicate blue veins. “here,” he whispers, “i want to drink from here tonight.” and when he bites, he does so with his other hand pressed flat against your lower belly, feeling the heat of your arousal rise as the blood leaves you. he drinks in slow pulls, his eyes closing, a broken sound escaping his throat. when he finishes, he licks the wound clean, seals it with a soft kiss, and pulls you into his lap, your blood still wet on his lips. “you taste like sin,” he says, “and i am never going to be saved”
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who fucks you while he feeds, because he cannot separate the two anymore. you’re on your back, legs hooked over his shoulders,his cock buried deep inside you. he’s leaning over you, fangs grazing your throat, but he doesn’t bite yet. he waits until you’re close—until your walls flutter around him until your breath hitches into that high, desperate pitch. then he sinks his fangs into the curve of your neck, just as your orgasm crests. the pain and pleasure collide so sharply that you scream, your body arching, your hips bucking against his. he drinks through your climax, his own hips grinding, chasing his release inside you. when he comes, it’s with your blood hot in his mouth, your cunt clenching around him, your nails raking down his back. he pulls out slowly, still lapping at the bite mark, still trembling. “you will kill me,” he says, voice wrecked. “but gods, what a way to die.”
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who discovers you’ve tried to hide from him, just for an hour, just to breathe. he finds you in the castle library, tucked behind a shelf, a book open in your lap. he doesn’t speak. he simply stands at the end of the aisle, arms crossed, mismatched eyes glowing in the dim torchlight. the silence stretches. you look up, and your heart stops. he walks toward you slowly, each step deliberate, predatory. he doesn’t grab you. he kneels in front of your chair, takes the book from your hands, sets it aside then he cups your face, tilts your head, and presses his forehead to yours. “if you need space,” he says quietly, “you tell me. you do not hide.” his thumb strokes your cheek. “i will give you the sky if you ask. but i will tear down every wall in this world if you try to run.” he kisses you then—soft, almost tender.
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who, after feeding, becomes unbearably gentle. the feral edge dulls into something warm, almost sleepy. he curls around you, one hand splayed over your stomach, nose buried in your hair. he whispers things he would never say otherwise. that he was alone for centuries before you, that he thought love was a mortal lie, that your blood has rewritten his very nature. he traces the bite mark on your neck with his fingertip, over and over, like a prayer. mine, he breathes.mine. and you feel his lips press a kiss to the crown of your head. “when you die, and you will, because you are mortal and i am not. i will find you in whatever comes next. i will tear through the veil itself to reach you.” he says it like a promise, not a threat. and you believe him
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who wakes you in the middle of the night, not with a touch, but with a whisper. “i dreamed you left.” his voice is small, childlike. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched. you reach for him, but he flinches. “don’t. not yet. i need..i need to know this is real.” he takes your hand, presses it to his chest where his heart should beat but doesn’t. then he brings your wrist to his lips and bites, shallow and quick, just enough to taste. he closes his eyes. “yes. you’re here. you’re real.” he crawls into bed beside you, wraps himself around you, and doesn’t let go until dawn.
♱⃓ vampire!valarr targaryen who has a habit of hoarding things that smell like you. a ribbon you wore in your hair. the shirt you slept in. he tucks them into a chest under the bed, and he won’t tell you why. but one night, after a heavy feeding, he lets you peek—and you see the collection, neatly folded and arranged like relics. “when you’re not here,” he says, voice barely audible, “i need something. anything. so i don’t forget the shape of you.” you crawl into his lap, wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper that you’re not going anywhere. he holds you so tight it hurts. “promise me,” he says, and you do.
loves, help me decide who should i post first? (i’m locking in for this one) i’ve got a few ideas i’m really excited about, but i want to hear what you want to see. send me your picks, your cravings, your very specific little tropes, don’t hold back. also, if there’s something you’ve been dying to read, tell me.i’m always looking for inspiration 🧛🩸🩸
i just got the most delicious anon request for vampire!valarr/aerion.. currently writing it and having the time of my life (p.s. it has to do something with a coffinnnn)