Date: 2018-06-07 05:30 am (UTC)
silverhalide: ([love] -> take it)
From: [personal profile] silverhalide
[ Stay still, stay still. The words have to replay a few times through Prompto's addled brain, even as Noctis' hands tighten on his hips, pulling him down from whatever rhythm he'd been managing to maintain. Slower, slower, until the full weight of his body is pressed down over the thickness of Noctis' knot, pushing it deep and holding it there, pressure white-hot and relentless-- stay still? Every instinct in his body is telling him to writhe.

There's a low-level pull of command to the motions, though, and that-- gods. That absolutely overrides any of those instincts, replacing it with this burning need to obey. With a shaking whimper, Prompto stills himself as much as he's able (save, of course, for the tremble in his thighs that he absolutely can't stop), head hanging further and hands raking up onto his alpha's chest, fingers clenching and unclenching aimlessly. His breath-- he's almost sobbing with the intensity of it, the desperate knot of his heat twisting in the pit of his stomach.

It feels like he's on the very edge of completely melting down. He can feel every single throb of Noctis' knot (gods it's so heavy, pressed so deep) up against his inner walls like a drumbeat, reverberating through his body and ricocheting back on itself until his entire body feels like a cacophony-- the heat, the helpless ache, scorching through his veins. It's agony.

That soft, almost sympathetic stroke along his quivering thighs makes something in Prompto's chest give out, something warm and liquid cresting up through his throat and stinging behind his eyes, his desperate panting giving an occasional hitch. Fuck, he's completely overwhelmed, with sensation and emotion both; he wants this, he wants it, wants it, and oh gods he adores this man. Knows, in his heart, that Noctis is truly his alpha, the only one who can take care of him like this, the only one who can ever touch him, fill him, satisfy him-- love him.

His head lifts just a fraction as Noctis coaxes him on, enough to gaze in near-worship through the sheaf of hair that had fallen into his face, eyes hazy and half-wet-- and a hand comes up to gently shift the veil of blonde back aside, curling affectionately down his cheek. Down his jaw. Down his neck--

Oh, fuck. The soft pressure against the gland there sends a flood of heat down through his body, crashing against the dense pit of heat between his legs-- and his scent, the sweetness of it suddenly boiling up in the back of his throat, spreading through his senses. Prompto chokes out a moan that just borders on a desperate keen, fingers scratching at Noct's chest and hips shoving down as hard as possible, just to feel the hard shift inside him. His cock, already more than half-hard again, jolts hard against his alpha's belly with the pulse of exquisite pleasure that runs through him. ]


Noct-- Noct-- [ Nice and slow. Just like his alpha wants. And he does so want to be good for him, doesn't he?

His hips barely move, really. Prompto faintly rocks back and forth, slowly, letting that knot roll in heavy circles right up against where he's most sensitive-- and gods, gods, he's almost sure this kind of pleasure is going to kill him, it's too intense, like a pulsar spinning in tighter and tighter rotations between his legs. Everything is tense with it, seizing tight around his alpha's waist and hips and cock, on the verge of breaking. ]


Oh-- please Noct, I-- please--
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