#I AM FED I AM SATIATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dustwuskies]

YES I AM BEING FED.. HOWEVER I AM NOT YET SATIATED!!! (take your time but THANK YOUUUUU)

Part 7/?

Bet you didn't expect a new part already did you?!

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[ernestmenvillemd]

PETEY NATION PETEY WORLD. PETEY BOYS AND PETEY GIRLS. COME AND JOIN THIS PETEY QUEST. FOR WE KNOW OUR MAN’S THE BEST

[hibiscuslynx]

STANLEY CUP MENTION IN THE NEW EP. FOR THE NICHE COMMUNITY OF HOCKEY & WTTT FANS WE WON!!!!

AND REFERENCE TO TKACHUK TAKING IT INTO THE OCEAN LMFAOOOOOO

(you are very much not supposed to take the stanley cup into the ocean)

[meowrimo]

DEVILISH DESSERT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. astarion !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : your cramps have hit you especially hard this month and astarion has an idea that could be mutually beneficial

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, period sex, oral (f!receiving), mentions of blood, unprotected sex but astarion pulls out, multiple orgasms, blood sucking, praise, pet names (darling, my sweet, pet), — WC : 2.2k

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

“believe me, pet, it would be a win-win.” astarion drawls, his hands following the flow of his speech. “you lay down and let me take care of you while i get my fill.”

the thought had crossed your mind before —fleetingly. the last time he fed from your neck the idea planted itself in your mind in a haze joined by many other ones, swirling together as your body tried to make sense of what was happening.

“but,” the argument you were about to make dies in your throat. but, what? astarion was asking you to let him indulge, a chance to satiate his hunger while also pleasuring his lover. his eyes plead with yours, giving away how eager he really is. “sure, why not.”

“that’s the spirit.” he claps his hands together before reaching out for your hand. “i promise i’ll take good care of you, my little treat.”

“what did i say about using that nickname?” you mumble as he takes your hand, quickly bringing it up against his lips for a quick peck, hiding the small smirk that was blossoming.

flashes of the last time he called you that floods your mind – the way it slipped off the tip of his tongue and lured you to his bed. the first night you let him feed off of your neck, taking the blood he needed while his cock was buried in your heat.

“what’s that? can’t hear you darling.” he teases, knowing exactly what was running through your mind right now. he finishes guiding you to his tent and he closes the curtain. “no matter, it’s just you and me now.”

suddenly, you feel a bit nervous under his stare. the reality of your moment coming into the forefront of your brain. you knew he has an affinity for blood, but what if it tasted bad — what if you tasted bad?

his lithe fingers gently cradle your face, adoration soaking his features. his dark red eyes trail all over your features, taking in every little piece of your face.

“gods, you’re beautiful.” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. he pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “i can’t wait to taste you, i know you’ll be as sweet as always.”

his words pour over you as warm reassurance, your body melting against him as he kisses you again. the small flame that had formed before was quickly simmering into a wildfire, lying just beneath the surface and ready to consume both of you in a spark of passion.

but for now, he takes his time with you. his lips trail down your neck, fangs barred as they lightly drag along your jugular. you hold back a gulp, ashamed at how much it makes you yearn for him even more.

he doesn’t bite, not when he’s so eager for what lies below. you lay all the way down the bedroll as he makes his descent, murmurs of praise slipping off his tongue and onto your skin.

he makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his bloodlust starts to kick in. in seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit as he deeply inhales.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“never seen you so speechless before.” you tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the blood woven slick pooling at your entrance.

“what can i say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “this is a gift, and i plan on showing you just how appreciative i am for it. for you.”

you open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. after that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins.

he tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper. his tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. it’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. he grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of blood he can get his mouth on.

each precise stroke of his tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your bloody essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. he was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. he breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

“no one could ever taste as sweet as you, darling.” a soft nibble to your inner thigh, his darkened, blown out eyes still locked onto you.

he goes back down on you, slowly pushing in his fingers to draw more out of you, wanting you to flood his vision with the small slice of heaven you’re granting him right now.

it’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. the coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. you don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

the tent is silent, save for both of your heavy breathing. through half lidded eyes, you see him greedily lick around his lips, ensuring he didn’t waste a drop of the gift you’ve given him.

it takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure astarion hurtled you in. you watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

without breaking eye contact, he slips his still coated fingers in his mouth, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as he savors the taste of you. a beat goes by and you think it’s over and time to head back to your own tent.

but he’s always been a selfish man.

“you know, i don’t think i’ve quite gotten my fill of you yet.” his voice sings in your ear. “i think i want a little more.”

“you might have to wait a bit.” the words flow out of you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at him. his eyes were still blown out — crazed. whenever he has that frenzied look in his eyes, his hunger is still strong and his sights are set on you.

“or, maybe not.” he tilts his head to the side. “let’s have sex so i can make a proper mess of you.”

“what? i-i’m not sure.” you frown slightly. the cramps had subsided, sure. but who’s to say that wouldn’t bring them back?

“think about it.” he drawls, taking off his shirt, showcasing his body. “coming a few times will be very beneficial. it’ll clear everything right out.”

“well.” you pause. realistically, there could be a truth in that. but who knew if your body would listen to logic anyway. and yet, “well i suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“exactly, darling.” he smiles before a softer look falls onto you. “but if it does, you’ll let me know.”

it wasn’t a question. the underlying care he held for you was slipping through the cracks of the tantalizing facade he loved to put up. you nod your head in confirmation. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to test this theory out, especially watching him slowly untie his breeches. lithe fingers that were just inside of you untwisting the knots woven in the string.

his cock springs out from being stuffed away, begging for some sort of relief judging by the amount of precum that was pooling on its head.

he hastily lines himself up to your slick entrance, rubbing his tip around it before it kisses your swollen clit. you gasp out as your body tingles with electricity. after a baited breath, he starts to slide in agonizingly slow, carefully watching your face as he does so.

but you look away, the eye contact feeling a bit much — even after everything. he was just too pretty, his expressions too raw. every moment you held his gaze, the fire inside of you threatens to take over.

“you need to look at me, my sweet.” his cold fingers grasp your chin lightly, tilting your head so you had no choice but to look at him.

before, when you had first slept with astarion, things hadn’t been so intimate. of course, it was all very rushed. it was the end of a gruesome battle and tensions were high, not to mention alcohol was swirling around in both of your systems.

but this was different. so much time had passed since then — or at least, that’s what it felt like. it’s all been so intense since you first met the pale elf that you hardly believe it’s only been less than a few months.

and in that time, you two had gotten so close, really close. slowly prying each other's heart open with gentle, reassuring hands. something that had forged itself out of forced trust, blooming into a beautiful and vulnerable partnership.

“i’m here.” you whisper, finally looking at him. his eyes soften and you realize at some point you started to caress his cheek. your finger smooths over his soft, smooth skin before his lips meet the palm of your hand, pressing a kiss onto it.

“and thank the gods for that.” he whispers back with a pleased look. his hips were flush with yours, moving in slow and short movements so he didn’t overwhelm you. but every second he filled you up, you could feel the pain subsiding in your lower abdomen.

you let out a soft whine, clenching around him as he starts to go a little faster. his eyes trail from yours and down your neck, looking at the twin marks he left the last time he had you in his embrace.

“astarion-.” you gasp out, savoring the way he continues to roll his hips into you, molding your cunt perfectly to take him and him alone.

“yes, my love?” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss against your neck, taking every ounce of his self control to not sink his teeth into you. but he was making you feel so much better, one bite couldn’t hurt, right? you tilt your neck to the side to show it off for him. he hesitates. “are you sure?”

“please.” a simple request he wouldn’t leave unfulfilled as his fangs dig into your neck, the same spot he drank from before. he sucks lightly, your mind clouding and filling with nothing but stinging pleasure.

his starts to thrust again — faster this time as he gets lost in the overwhelming sweetness of your blood. it fuels through his body, giving him the strength he normally needs to help keep you safe. but instead, he’s only using it to drive into you harder.

he pulls back from your neck with a gasp like he’s been shocked, blood dripping down the sides of his mouth. his attention shifts, watching his cock disappearing into your cunt, feeling you already start to gush around him, blood starting to soak around his length.

“so sweet.” the words barely leave his lips, but enough for you to hear it. his fingers move down to swirl against your clit, trying to give you the same pleasure you were giving him. “make a mess for me, my sweet.”

words escape you as moans take its place, his name a mantra you can’t stop yourself from repeating. the sting from the bite he gave you was rushing through your veins now, every sense of your nerves being heightened to places it’s never been — overwhelming pleasure coursing through your whole body.

you clench around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he can’t control his hips anymore, rutting against you as the pleasure finally consumes you both.

astarion’s eyes flutter shut as you cum around him, coating his cock in your bloody essence. once you stop fluttering around him, he quickly pulls out and cums all over your lower abdomen.

your head lolls back, coming down from the high he just gave you, aftershocks running down your body. astarion lightly trails his hands along you, a surge of energy overcoming him as he breathes in your scent once again.

“there, now that that’s settled,” he pauses, immediately sliding down and tucking his head back in between your thighs. he licks his lips quickly, his tongue darting across as his feast lays before him. “i’d like to resume my meal.”

taglist : @boogiebooboo @niqhtfell @collin-thegreat @zorosdimples @oikawabi-sabi @mammon-s (happy bday!) @moss-is-a-tasty-snack

[teashh]

I am so glad the new kdramas are bringing back the specific brand of loser men. You know which brand I'm talking about. The Ahn "min min" Minhyuk brand of loser men and I'm loving it. The "I worship this goddess and I'm so in love with her and I can't believe I get to love her. Oh my gods I love her so much" brand of loser men. And we're being fed so well with lovely runner, love next door, no gain no love, my demon, Cinderella at 2am, Hierarchy, Midnight Romance in Hagwon, doctor slump, Queen of tears, welcome to samdal-ri and even good partner (yes it's one sided but the dedication and yuri's couple too).

We need more fictional loser men who worship women to satiate our eldest independent daughter desires.

[urprettylildoe]

𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 𝓬𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 (𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵)

yandere anti-cupid × (fem) cupid reader.

Synopsis: you bring couples together and he breaks them apart. A rivalry ensues between the two of you. And while Vexian seems hellbent on destroying everything you've built, we often forget how close hate is to love...or perhaps obsession is a better term.

Contains: yandere thoughts/behaviour, mentions of side character death, blood.

Note: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY ANGELSSSS ♡ Sorry this came out after valentine's day! I was so busy but here it is. (Wrote this to make myself feel less single) but anyway enjoy!

♡

Strange dreams had been plaguing your mind. And not just any dreams, ones of him.

Vexian, an anti-cupid — whose favourite indulgence was picking apart people's relationships, watching them crumble under the pressure. A heart made of stone, and a head even harder.

Then there's you, a cupid. The embodiment of everything pure and happy, the very person who fosters love. Too sweet, too gullible.

A match made in heaven, right?

You would dream of lips caressing your skin like silk, whispers of sweet promises fanning over your ear. It felt all too real each time you shot up, covered in cold sweat.

But, this couldn't possibly be true. How could it when he glared at you like you were dirt on his shoe?

A being born from evil could not be capable of such tenderness.

♡

A lazy yet smug smile adorned Vexian's lips as he watched the couple quarrel. It was music to his ears, humans unknowingly dancing to his tune like puppeteers.

He doesn't remember the last time there wasn't a hole gaping through his black soul. It was a bottomless pit of hunger. It was only satiated when he fed on heartbreak and grief, and even then it would crave more.

Whether he liked it or not, he had grown addicted to his guilty (or not so guilty) pleasure of having power.

One obstacle stood in the way of getting what he wanted: You. A pretty winged thing who scurried around with a cute arrow and bow, desperate to give everyone a taste of romance.

Too selfless for your own good.

"You're wasting your time, y'know." Vexian drawled, towering over you. The air surrounding the two of you was distorted and sizzling; it pulled you in yet made you uneasy.

"How am I wasting my time exactly?" Your brows furrowed, a pretty pout on your lips that was adorably frustrating.

He could crush you under his foot like a bug, but he doesn't want to. The game is much more fun that way. The silver cracks that ran through his otherwise perfect skin practically glowed. "It's funny, trying to fix things that were bound to break eventually." A finger reached out to twirl a strand of your bouncy hair around it, his thumb rubbing it.

He continued, "Emotions make you weak. They cloud your judgement and do nothing but disrupt the so-called peace you strive for."

Holding your chin high, you attempted a glare that could only do so much to rival the crazed intensity in his. "It makes people happy, though."

"That could only do so much in the long run," his eyes crinkled. "And I can't wait to watch you realise that."

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished.

Back then, you didn't realise that there was something lurking in his eyes while he looked at you.

Perhaps it came from his desire to prove you wrong.

Vexian did everything he could to watch everything you built fall so graciously to the ground. He meddled into all of your relationship, hoping for a disheartened expression. The only thing on your face was a small smile as you continued aiming your arrows at each and every person.

Something fluttered inside of him. You were so fascinating, even more than the night sky he liked to stare at.

He recalled those evenings where he'd come to your place to discourage you, only to find himself in a trance..

The moonlight streamed through the window, bathing you in an ethereal glow. Your lashes cast shadows on your cheekbones as you slept.

And Vexian couldn't bring himself to hurt you.

Other evenings he'd watch over you while you were out match-making, just to quell the storm inside of him.

Perhaps it grew more wild as he left things on your windowsill.

The anti-cupid finally found something new he could study. How could your spells counter his own? What did you have that he didn't?

A new kind of beast awoke inside him. If love was so powerful, then shouldn't he get to experience it firsthand? That sounded only fair.

Yet, he didn't want any kind of love.

No, he wanted yours.

♡

Disappointment washed over you, replacing any initial excitement. Why didn't your arrows work? Why did it turn love into something unrecognisable, monstrous?

All the couples you worked so hard on matching ended up hurting each other. Jealousy would rear its ugly head into their lives, and so would obsession right after.

No, no, you could not fail. This was your one purpose, your true reason for living. If you couldn't fulfill your job, what would you do? Where would you go? What if-

"Hey, hey, relax."

That velvety, haunting voice sounded so deceptively sweet, prompting you to look up into his eyes. For a moment, you were almost fooled...until his hand on your shoulder snapped you out of it.

You wrenched out of his grasp, jabbing a finger into his solid chest. "What did you do?"

He hummed, "I'm not sure what you're talking about, baby." The pure amusement in his voice practically gave it away.

"You did something to my arrows, I-I don't know what it is but you're ruining love." Your voice sounded strained with distress. It could only make him croon. You always gave and gave and gave to those pests, but never got anything in return. He plans to fix that.

Tweaking your arrows was rather easy. A little dark magic here and there then it all fell into place, like a perfect puzzle piece.

Feigning sadness, he sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you'd like what I prepared for you. I just altered it a teeny bit to perfection. After all, shouldn't the feeling of it consume you?"

You flail your arms in wild gestures, "no, it shouldn't."

"Oh?" Then why did he feel that way when he looked at you?

Before he could utter another remark, his gaze drifted over to where you had been staring before he arrived.

A measly man. Was he another one of your projects? Yes, that must be it. It's probably-

You turned to follow his gaze and you stared at the human...

...with hearts in your eyes.

His body froze up. The world around him spinned and the air thickened around him, crackling. He couldn't speak, couldn't think of anything else except you.

How dare you love another? Go against your morals? Lovers didn't betray each other, you knew that.

Fists clenching, he recoiled from your form but you didn't seem to notice, too entranced by the pathetic man. The gears started to turn in his head, jaw clenched.

No one should have your love. You should've noticed him, whose love burned brighter than the stars. But no matter, he will have your love. Vexian will be back soon enough.

After all, Valentine's day was approaching, right?

♡

14th of February.

Romance, love letters, sappy confessions, dates, all of it was on this fateful day.

You had a skip in your step, wings fluttering behind you as felt giddy about your favourite holiday. You got ready — adding a pretty gloss to your lips and a clip to your curls. You wore a short, white sundress for the occasion.

Things were going to be a bit different this year.

It was time you finally rewarded yourself on Valentine's — maybe a cupid could have a chance at love too?

Fluttering around your house, you looked for your bow and arrows. Could have sworn you put them on the vanity-!

They sat proudly, carefully, on the small kitchen table. There wasn't any time to ponder as you reached for them.

A large hand enclosed around yours.

Your breath hitched as the other arm wrapped around your other side, trapping you against the table.

Warm breath fanned over the nape of your neck, "Happy Valentine's day, my love." Vexian pressed a kiss to your temple, making your chest tighten. What is he doing? And why couldn't you bite back?

The lack of response on your behalf only encouraged him to continue, "thought I'd bring you a gift. What kind of lover would I be if I didn't, hm?" You had half the mind to call him out, if it weren't for the supposed present being thrusted into your hands.

A white rose, dripping in crimson.

Your ears rang as the thorns prickled your skin, sending golden blood running down your hands. "What- I-I-"

Vexian hushed, smoothing down your hair, "Shh, baby. I got rid of that pest for us, aren't you happy?" The flower dropped to the ground. Pest, did he mean-

No, no, no. Not him. Please. Your quiet sobs wouldn't come close to the turmoil twisting your very organs around.

"Don't cry, Y/N." He cooed lovingly, cupping your chubby cheeks and squishing them together to form a quivery pout as tears ran down in streaks. This was a nightmare. A terrible one.

You managed to sputter, sobbing, "what have you done?"

His chuckle sounded more like a rumble in his chest, dark wings mocking your tiny ones that he's come to love so much. "What have I done? I made sure no one stood between us anymore." That only made you spiral deeper and deeper, drowning in your tears.

Sigh. "Baby, I understand your hesitation. You fear what you don't understand, right? I do not love like you do. I love like the moon loves the tides—pulling, controlling, devouring.” a soft smile has the audacity to grace his lips, "but the way I see it, you wouldn't need to worry about my loyalty. The devotion I have is eternal, unlike that human."

"He didn't do anything to you!" You bawled hysterically, both because of your demise and the man's. Your shaky hands reached up to grab his, trying to pull them off of you.

"Oh, but he did. He took your attention away, and that alone is unacceptable." He peered into your frightened eyes at such a close proximity, "but enough about him, I want to show my real gift."

Raising his hand, Vexian snapped his fingers. And the world around you spun before collapsing.

♡

You could finally look around, but this was not your home.

The luxuries surrounding you were hard to ignore — walls made out of marble stones and intricate carvings, jewels and expensive trinkets littered the room and a heavenly view was cast outside. This location was too peaceful, too relaxing, too perfect.

Realisation dawned on you that this was no ordinary place, but a palace. You almost forgot about Vexian if it wasn't for his warm hands placing themselves on your waist.

"Do you like it here?"

A sniffle escaped you as your gaze flickered up to him, "W-where are we?"

He spread his arms wide open, a cheek grin making its way onto his features. "Home."

"H-home?!" You repeated a moment after.

"Home," he confirmed. "I made this world for you, for us. Time is a bit different here, but other than that, everything you desire shall be at your feet."

Your body flinches at the impact of his words. This guy expected you to go running into his arms, didn't he?

You whisper softly, "No, I won't stay. What about my life back there?"

"You're still thinking about those pesky humans? Your only purpose right now is to accept my love," he stepped forward, pushing you down on the golden, silk sheets of the king-sized behind, hair spreading out beneath you like a halo.

Struggling under his grasp, you yelled. "And what makes you think I'll actually stay here?" You expected anger, but it never came. His gentleness was a contradiction to his existence, so much that you couldn't believe this was the same man who hated Valentine's day with a burning passion.

Silver eyes gleamed under his tousled locks of black, "you will, one way or another." Slowly, he extracted a blade, shushing your protesting cries with a peck on the nose.

You screamed and thrashed, trying to get him off. "You monster, let go of me!" Hands clawed at his chest, trying to free yourself. It was all in naught though as he pinned you down.

He cut his own palm then did the same to you. Then, he interwined your hands together — silver and gold mixing — before leaning down to kiss you. You turn your head to the side, only for him to grab the back of it and force you to look him in the eye. His fingers tangled in your hair.

"I've waited so, so long to do this. M'not wasting my chances, my love." His lips suddenly smashed down on yours, the kiss speaking volumes.

You tried to break free, but the spell was strong. Your resistance grew weaker and more futile. It was a silence to your pleas. You could no longer flee.

He pulls away, pupils dilated. Finally, you whisper softly, succumbing to your fate, "you don't understand love at all."

Pressing his forehead against yours, he smiled adoringly.

"Then teach me. After all, we have all eternity."

♡

Yours truly,

@urprettylildoe

[theealbatross]

Sebastian x Reader: i love you, it's ruining my life (One Shot)

Plot | Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him. Tags | none, fluff, slytherin!reader, bad english accent attempt by me, repressed feelings, unhealthy attachment, codependency, teenagers trying to process trauma together, mentions of nightmares, they are both 17 years old [A/N : FUCK JK ROWLING!!!!!!! Also I just needed to write something and somehow a depressed Slytherin boy was just the one to cure my insane writer's block. Enjoy!]

I am not dating Sebastian Sallow, is what you kept saying yet no one seems to ever believe you. Even Natty, bless her kind soul, gave you a look so incredulous as the words went out of your mouth that you couldn’t help but be confused yourself -- were you dating Sebastian?

“I’m not trying to be nosy, my friend. I’m just concerned.”

“About what?” This has been the third person this month with that same irritating expression on their face. Pity.

“I thought … you were always together that I just assumed there was … something.”

You blinked, trying not to let your face slip, afraid that your ever observant friend would read too much into each emotion.

“Well, there’s nothing. So you and the others can –”

“There are others?!”

You widened her eyes, telling Natty to drop it and she wisely did. “The rest of you can stop reporting his rendezvous to me. Understood?”

“There you are!”

Merlin, will the cruel gods of fate ever give you a break?

The deep voice from the door cut through half of the conversations in your table as Sebastian jogged towards you. “Morning, pet.”

He casually grabbed your head gently, pressing a kiss on top of it, before settling down by straddling the chair so he was facing you. “Hey Natty, got lost?”

It wasn’t unheard of for students to not stick to the assigned tables on their houses but it was still odd, especially for someone like Natty who much preferred the company of like-minded people. Always said that the quiet and whispers in the Slytherin table made her uneasy.

Natty looked from you, to him, to the arms that was hidden under the table but was no doubt placed on your waist, subtly but insistently pulling you closer. You silently pleaded for her to ignore it which she thankfully did with a sigh.

“Not at all, Sebastian. Just trying to keep our friend company before you undoubtedly steal her away for the day.”

He didn’t even pretend to be offended by the accusation, only chuckling good-heartedly. “You can be welcome to tag along just for today.”

“Wouldn’t want to intrude. And with the trouble the two of you get into I’d be grounded by my mother for the rest of my life.”

The three of them laughed at that. The conversation thankfully flowing easier and away from the initial topic. Once Ominis arrived and Poppy was called over it was like fifth-year again. The initial circle you had formed has always been a source of comfort, no longer having to have your guard up all the time especially as easy conversation flowed between each other.

“I got some new books for you, just got delivered an hour ago. We should read it tonight.”

You fed him a piece of bread in your hands, knowing that his growing appetite has not been satiated by the plate he made for himself but he would be too lazy to make a new one and would just rather take bits and pieces from your own. “Just for me, huh?”

He grabbed a tuft of grapes before feeding you one as well before he demolished the entire thing. You couldn’t help but giggle when he spat out a small branch that managed to sneak into his mouth.

“It’s that new muggle series you love, paid off one of Ominis’ servant to line for it so you wouldn’t have to sneak out of Hogwarts like I know you had planned to tonight.”

You could feel your face heating up at the fact that he knew you too damn well. “You know I don’t like you spending money on me, Sebastian.”

“Well, you’re gonna be reading it to me so technically I’m spending money for me.”

You gave him a look but he quickly evaded it by feeding you another pair of grapes.

Sebastian had been haunted by nightmares after last year’s events. Ones so bad that the nurse feared he would be a bit too dependent on sleeping potions at such a young age. Thankfully, the two of you had found a solution together, after a late night studying in the Undercroft reading your notes aloud hoping it would stick into your head a bit better – you had turned to find your companion snoring away beside you.

At first, the two of you thought it was the history lesson that put him right to slumber so you borrowed tons of history books in the library for him to read before he slept but an enchanted note later and you were dragging your sleepy self and a blanket out of your chambers as you read about the History of Magic in his bed.

It was that night that you had been eternally grateful that he had no other roommate but Ominis. Especially when you found out that Sebastian was apparently a horrible koala when asleep.

“That’s just –”

“What are you two whispering about?”

You actually jumped, pushing Sebastian away as if the soft voice behind them reminded you of how they had actually drifted closer than what was appropriate.

“Arieta,” Sebastian greeted her with a raised brow, seemingly confused why the Ravenclaw was this far off the room not even all that affected that his new girlfriend just caught him being a bit too comfortable with another girl.

“Sebby!” she shrieked prettily, quickly recovering and pulling on his arm. “We have History of Magic together, remember? You know I can’t survive that class without your shoulder to sleep on.”

She can hear Ominis choke on a laugh yet Arieta shot you a look like it was your fault.

“I, uh,” Sebastian turned to your table, now fully aware that everyone was staring at him with various expression on their faces. “Right, let’s go.”

Ever the gentleman, Sebastian was quick to grab the books in Arieta’s arm as she held on to his hand and dragged him towards the doors.

“Arieta, huh, wouldn’t have pegged her as territorial one,” Natty chuckled, you chucked a grape at her. “What? I am only speaking my mind. Might have to watch out for that one or she might just drag poor Sebastian away from –”

Just before she finished her sentence Sebastian came bounding down the path once again stopping just beside you, catching his breath. “Hey, you’re mine tonight, okay? No adventures.”

His wording left so much to be misinterpreted that even Poppy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, damn near resembling those mooncalfs she loves so much.

"I stand corrected," Natty muttered.

“Sebby!” Arieta screamed at the end of the hallway.

Merlin’s beard.

“I’m coming!” He threw her an impatient look before holding on to your chin so you were looking at him and forcing you to nod. “No adventures.”

This time the embarrassment of the absolute mess that was unfolding before your unfinished breakfast have overwhelmed your brain that you could only nod with him.

“No adventures.”

Sebastian smiled, one of those real, bright ones that makes your body malfunction and your heart to stop beating. Pressing one last kiss on the top of your head and managing to wave to your shared friends he was off and gone through the double doors.

The entire table was left in silence and you had hoped they would let this go but Natty couldn’t give you that mercy as she cleared her throat.

“Well, now I got even more questions.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow you just think about him a lot.

You weren’t as daft as the rest of them have probably assumed. You did think there was a lot more than friendship between Sebastian and you. But with all the things that the two of you had been through it was difficult to pinpoint what it exactly was aside from their unusually intense loyalty to each other.

Was it a trauma bond? Was it just their kindred spirits refusing to let the one soul who understood them go? Did everything that they went through, the secrets they keep, the curses they threw to protect each other become the bloody ribbon that held the unhealthy attachment they had to each other? It could be love. But it could be a whole lot more complicated than that.

That’s what they were. They were complicated.

After the nightmare that was your fifth year the two of you had kept to yourselves with Ominis in tow, trying to keep as low as profile as possible and give your poor professors a break. With your newfound infamy as the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ (blergh) and the dark secret you three were desperately keeping for Sebastian, the best you could hope for was to blend in with the rest of the nameless students in Hogwarts.

That agreement got shot into hell when your dear friend Sebastian Sallow proved to be one of the best beaters in Hogwarts’ long, long history. It was a dare that exploded in your own face to try out and irritate Imelda but when he had accidentally proven to be a bit too good at it their mutual friend clutched at him with her demanding claws and put him through the ringer until he got spat out decent enough to be one of the soldiers to secure the honor of their noble house and win the Quidditch cup this year.

Piled on top of that development was his connection to the Gaunt family, the Hero of Hogwarts, and the rumor of his hefty trust fund waiting for him the moment he turns 18 – Sebastian Sallow, just as the gods intended, became the most eligible bachelor of his age.

And thus your hell begun.

The silent charm he always had with him grew with his stature. He clearly enjoyed the attention after having hid his pretty bloody face behind dangerous books all year last year that it was almost like he was compensating for the hearts he could’ve broken. Every moon it was a different girl looped around his arms and every month it was a different friend reporting to you that your presumed ‘boyfriend’ was found snogging a goddamn Gryffindor in the Three Broomsticks.

It was annoying, confusing, and you were getting sick of it.

“Over here.”

Before you could find the source of the voice you knew all too well, a door had already opened and you were quickly pulled into an empty room – well, room was being generous as it was more of a storage space than anything.

“Sebastian!”

“Shh,” you gawked when his opened palm muffled your voice as he firmly presses it on your mouth. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps and a softer call of his name echoed the hallway outside the door. When the footsteps faded and disappeared, he had the nerve to give you a lopsided grin that turned your face red in irritation. Definitely in irritation.

Nothing quite like being forced to face the boy who had been running around your head all day.

“Sorry bout that, pet,” he chuckled, leaning on the wall an arms-length way from you. “I’m not too good with break-ups, especially when they say no.”

“Must be horrifying,” you sniped shortly, also pressing your back on the nearest wall to give you as much space as possible – it would just be absolutely mortifying to faint because your heart was beating too fast it was like it was trying to escape. “Are you gonna explain why you’ve kidnapped me in this dingy room?”

“Come on now, don’t be short with me. I just wanted to hang out with you ‘s all.”

“You want to hang out with me …. Inside a closet?”

He shrugged, “I never see you anymore these days.”

Ah, the nightmares must be back. She tries to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.

“That’s not my fault, Sebastian.”

At least he looked guilty. And absolutely miserable.

In the few weeks you had taken your eyes off him it would seem he had another growth spurt. Do boys just not stop growing ever? Looking up at him was starting to get painful. Plus, all those drills they run to prepare for every game had done nothing but well for his physique. You couldn’t help but run your eyes to his broad chest and shoulders before you caught yourself and nearly screamed in horror.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Rough hands grabbed one of yours. He bent his knees so he could look in your eyes as you now outright refuse to meet his, in anger for the absolute shit friend he had been the past months or in embarrassment that you so casually checked him out you’re not quite sure. “I … I got distracted but I missed you. You know I prefer your company over any other.”

Those damned brown eyes, not even the poor light in the windowless room could dull its effect on you. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Your harsh words did not match with the growing smile on your face you failed to suppress. He mirrored your grin, “Do you still have classes?”

You shook your head.

He damn near vibrated in glee. Merlin, you did miss him.

“Let me steal you away.”

In a flash, Sebastian grabbed a hold of your hand to survey the hall one last time before dragging you out of the room and into the nearest Floo. You barely caught the surprise and anger in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes as she gawked by the stairs before you got swallowed up by a green flash of powder.

“Boathouse.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow because this is definitely not a date.

You wouldn’t think the Boathouse would be a romantic place but with the lack of students, the dimming sun and a gorgeous boy leading you in the inside of it for privacy – you couldn’t help but think that anyone who would pass by would be well within their right to think you had become another notch in Sebastian Sallow’s belt.

You’re not sure how you feel about that. A greater witch would’ve been offended but maybe you’re no better than the knots in his belt.

“Sit here.”

Sebastian spread out a worn-out black robe on the ground, patting on it expectantly. Before you could do it yourself, he was already kneeling beside you and removing your shoes and socks. The intimate act forced you to hold your breath, making sure you controlled your face so your jaw doesn’t fall to the floor as he slowly pulled on your socks, gently plopping them on the edge and letting the Black Lake’s water tickle your feet as they dangled.

When you were settled, he nonchalantly laid his head down on your lap. Gods, help you.

“Comfortable, aren’t you?”

He made a dramatic noise of satisfaction, even wiggling in your lap to show his assent. A giggle slipped out of your mouth at the absolute gall of him, your hands naturally falling in his soft, thick, brown hair to play with it.

“What had you been up to, pet?” he mumbles, eyes never leaving your face although you find yourself unable to do the same as you opted to look around the architecture of the Boathouse you rarely visit.

“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “Although I did find that swimming in the Forbidden Forest’s Lake was surprisingly relaxing.”

He hummed, not even surprised at your little antics when you leave his line of sight. The boy had definitely pulled you out of worse situations than roaming around the Forbidden Forest. “You should take me some time. Merlin knows relaxing is what I need.”

A scoff escaped your mouth as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, right after I duel your newest girlfriend for the honor of getting to take you out.”

He poked your side at that, “As entertaining that would be you know all you have to do is send me an owl and I’d trek up to Maurenweem for you.”

Your face clearly showed you didn't believe him and he frowned. Carefully, you ran a finger in-between his brows where a frown formed to relax it.

At this angle you could see the toll the sleepless nights he must’ve been having had on him. If the bags on his eyes was any indication it must’ve been a few nights now. You ran your hands on his hair earning you a satisfied hum as he dangled his hand on the edge of the ledge to play with the water below.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He popped one eye open but your gentle touch proved too much as he closed it again with an even longer hum. “A few hours last night.”

“You should’ve woken me up.”

He gently shook his head, grabbing your free hand so he can hold it by his stomach.

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Oh please, Sebastian.”

He chuckled at that, gripping on your hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath. “The nightmares … I thought it’s been better. Barely had any a few months ago. But now it’s just gotten worse.”

The confession broke your heart. Sebastian was not a vulnerable person; despite his usually easy and cheerful demeanor he was quick to wall himself in at the first sign of trouble. You would bet galleons of gold he still feels horrible of all the things he put you through and it was truly in desperation when he had called you over to help him through his insomnia. Which was also why you had welcomed the responsibility with open arms.

“Care to tell? Is it still about Anne?”

His estranged twin has been forefront of most of his darkest nightmares but he shook his head again and for that you were thankful he was spared that at least. “Solomon? Ominis?”

He opened his eyes; it was full of overflowing guilt and fear. And when it seemed he could no longer keep it to himself he sighed, “It’s about you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t …”

The revelation had your blood freezing. “What?”

He sat up, now facing you and taking both of your hands. “I’m only telling you this because you are my best friend and to remind you that none of this is ever your fault. You haven’t done a thing wrong, in fact, I can’t think how I would’ve gotten past any of this if it wasn’t for you.”

You held on to his hands tighter. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.”

He shook his head, pulling you closer as if to comfort. Why was he comforting you when it was him who had been terrorized by this dream version of you. It was irrational to be mad but how could you not be when apparently you had become one of his problems while you were simultaneously desperately trying to fix it.

A palm on your cheeks pulled you out of your self-loathing.

“All of my dreams … it was of the people I love leaving me. Anne never forgiving me for the rest of my life, Ominis turning me in …”

“Oh, Sebastian,” you buried a sob on the crook of his neck, your hand roping around his back so you can rub on his back comfortingly while he lets everything out.

“And … and every time it happens my brain drives itself insane thinking of plans of what I would do if those nightmares came true. That’s the reason why I couldn’t sleep.” You looked up at him through your lashes but never leaving your spot even as he brings your legs out of the water and over his until you were in his lap.

“But then … they turned to you.” His voice dropped so low you almost shivered. “And for the life of me I just couldn’t … see an out of that. If I lost you – If you gave up on me I … I think I’d turn myself in Azkaban myself.”

“Sebastian I would never –”

“I know that,” he whispered. “But I still can’t – I can’t let it go. I can’t let go of these doubts and fear.”

This time he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “That’s why I keep hanging out with all those girls.”

You raised your head in confusion, taking a better look at him.

“I thought if I loved you less, my nightmares would be kinder.”

The breath got caught in your throat. What is he – does he mean –

“But I couldn’t do that either,” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his face, clearly frustrated. “So I’ve decided. I’d rather go insane, let the nightmares do their worst because I am done pretending I don’t love you. I’m done avoiding you, I’m done pretending you aren’t the only light in my life. I’m done. And I love you.”

A fully grown crying Mandrake could drop from the sky and you don’t think you would’ve heard it over your own heart. You could barely comprehend anything but that his grip on your waist was so tight it was almost painful and that his pleading, terrified eyes was in the perfect angle that the late dying sun made it look like it was in a golden fire.

And that Sebastian Sallow … is in love with you. Just as madly as you were with him.

“I’m not forcing you into anything. I needed to let it out. If you want, I fully intend to formally court you until –”

“I love you.” You could no longer bear to put him in such misery. As long as you were alive, he would not question the adoration you’ve felt for him that just kept growing since the first day he had taken you to Hogsmeade. “I love you, Sebastian.”

Just for a moment there was quiet then he burst out laughing. “Thank you, darling." His body visibly shuddered as he sighed in relief, burying his face in your chest. "I’ve already planned to throw myself off the highest cliff in Hogwarts if this had gone south.”

You wrapped your hands around his neck, accepting the gentlest kisses on your neck. “Don’t say that. I plan to be your girlfriend for a very long time.”

His body shook from laughing, this time a kiss under your jaw, “Not that long I hope?”

You frowned, pulling away from him, though his unrelenting hold prevented much space to be in between the two of you. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” his thumbs rubbed circles on your thigh, now seemingly shy. “If all goes well, I had hoped to be engaged by the time we graduate. You won’t be just my girlfriend then.”

"You bastard," You gawked, laughing at his proclamation. The happiness was overflowing in your chest that you couldn’t help but just squeeze him into you hoping maybe that your souls would fuse with each other.  “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re already pre-proposing?”

He licked his lips, his sleepless eyes now full of vigor. “Ah, we gotta fix that, don’t we, pet?”

“We’re dating.”

Natty sighed in relief.

Poppy clapped.

Garreth passed Imelda a silver coin.

"Excuse me," Ominis muttered, standing up. “I'm gonna request a room change to the Headmaster.”

[daosies]

keep your eyes

you can't help but stare at his lips. he can't help but get fed up.

wanderer ♡ gn!reader

warnings: kissing, wanderer may be ooc

notes: sigh. i miss my man.

"and where do you think you're looking?" wanderer asks, crossing his arms.

you blink, and your gaze quickly returns to the wanderer's, locking on his pupils and unraveling your soul. cornflower irises drink your reflection in greedily, even though puppets don't need to be satiated by such mortal desires. even though puppets aren't guided by thirst or hunger or love.

"what?" you reply, feigning ignorance to the shit-eating smirk on his face and the smug taps of his foot. wanderer steps towards you, the ornaments of his hat swaying with his gait.

"do you think i'm stupid? or are you stupid?" he asks, hardly containing his jeering laughs. "you've been staring at my lips."

he leans in towards you, but there are no breaths escaping his nose, no warmth emanating from his skin.

he leans in towards you, but you can hardly feel his presence, the only proof of his existence being vested within his eyes, which trace over your features wildly, trailing from the wisps of your lashes, to the bridge of your nose, and down to the curl of your lips.

when you look away, he smirks, sure, but his index finger comes up to the bottom of your chin, guiding your gaze back to him.

when wanderer approaches—no, when he perceives you—he eyes you with the intensity of a madman, the hunger of an insatiated mortal. when wanderer perceives you, he does so like a phantom, an absence that drowns you in, the desperation that comes with the unknown.

you are all that is foreign to him.

you make wanderer unlike himself, dismembering his puppet limbs and his screwed-on joints. you piece him back together, tugging at his strings and reinventing them anew, the transparent strands dyed red—oh, the color of love, the color of life and the color of blood—weaving and transfixed to your touch.

when wanderer perceives you, he perceives a heart, a rhythm, a tempo that echoes throughout the cavity of his empty chest, the sound of humanity and the timeless, estoric: thump-thump, thump-thump.

wanderer is not human. but his creator discarded him because she believed he was too human, too flawed, too selfish. but selfishness breeds love, and wanderer is not human, yes, but how can he explain the selfishness—the love—within him otherwise?

wanderer is not human. but his creator discarded him because she believed he was full of humanity, because he was full of love. his creator abandoned him, but you—oh, you—kept him like a treasure.

you reassembled him and you are, undoubtedly, all that he knows.

"tch. and there you go again," wanderer mutters, flicking your forehead. "look at me."

"i am, though?" you retort, taking a step back. wanderer's brows furrow prominently, his arrogant smirk dropping into a frown as he narrows the distance between the two of you.

"liar. do you think i am a fool?"

"yeah," you reply, grinning. "i'm always looking at you."

wanderer conjures a few hexes and curses under his breath, gaze momentarily averting from yours before reaching for the rim of his hat, tugging it down in a futile attempt to conceal his expression.

"you're ridiculous."

"you must love ridiculous people."

"oh, now you're just asking for trouble."

wanderer says nothing once your eyes drift again, tracing the features of his face and settling on the curl of his lips. he huffs.

"you want to kiss me so bad," he remarks arrogantly, tone sounding irritated. "don't you know how stupid it makes you look?"

you don't miss the way his ears bloom a violent shade of red, the way his brows furrow while he tries to suppress the adoration flourishing within his irises.

you don't miss the way wanderer steps towards you, presence known only by the thunderous beat of your heart and the way his face is barely a centimeter away from yours.

much to your chagrin, your eyes flutter shut, and a mocking laugh escapes the wanderer's lips.

"did you think i'd make it easy for you? hah! the arrogance!"

when you open your eyes, lips barely parting in an attempt to protest, wanderer's hand comes to the back of your head, pressing you towards him, the coldness of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

the shade of his hat captures you, the darkness slipping in between your faces and falling everywhere but your lips.

despite his tongue spewing fierce insults regularly, wanderer's touch is tender, marred by love and the softness of a human, the softness of which his creator loathes.

he cradles you with his hands, his lips pressing against yours, chasing after you whenever you part ways.

he's desperate. he's hungry, constantly wanting more and more, like lovers do—oh, like humans do.

when you pull away, breathless, wanderer merely smirks.

"you—" you start, but are quickly interrupted by another hungry, defiant kiss. when wanderer kisses you, his touch becomes both tender and mad, terribly desperate and terribly, terribly lovely.

"you talk too much," he mumbles, waiting for you to regain your breaths. his other palm comes up to the side of your face, the warmth from your skin beginning to permeate into his. "just..."

your gaze meets his, and wanderer falls silent, enamored by the sight.

"just what?" you ask, smiling. wanderer scoffs.

"don't make me say it." he kisses you again.

"wanderer, i was—" you manage to interrupt, only to be silenced by the narrow of his eyes and the thumb that brushes over your cheekbone.

"shut it." his words don't match his adoring tone.

wanderer thinks he could get used to this. just for good measure, however, he kisses you again.

and again.

oh, and one more time. just to be sure.

[chibsandchill]

Stolen moments under silk sheets (18+)

Fandom: HOTD (House of the dragon)

Pairing: Aemond x AFAB!reader

Summary: Aemond is touch starved. That’s it. That’s the whole story. Kind of. 

Masterlist

My requests are open! 

MDNI NSFW (warnings under the page break). SFW version here!

Warnings: Including but not exclusively slivers of angst sprinkled here and there, fluff, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, obsessive behavior, obsessive thoughts, descriptions of metaphorical self-harm, very brief mentions of the dance and the events that happened (some canon divergence), Aemond is his own warning, canon typical themes, the beginning is a bit slow, grammatical and spelling errors (English is not my first language)

I am not responsible for your media consumption 

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

The roses in your garden have begun to wilt. Summer is leaving, and winter claims all, but you remain untouched by the darkness that crept ever closer with each passing cycle. Your roses may have lost their vibrant colors but your face remained as bright and beautiful as ever. You thrive even in desolation – the harsh winds cannot steal the warmth from your cheeks or the spark from your eyes. 

“And you say you do not care for gardening, my love.” 

He’s almost startled by your presence, but since the war very little caught him off guard. But that look in your eyes? The overwhelming affection? That was something Aemond reckoned he would never get used to. And yet he could not get enough, you had awakened a beast inside him that fed and craved all things you. A smile did not satiate him like it used to, a night spent together felt like a fleeting moment spirited away by vengeful gods. 

Aemond hums. “Your passions are my passions.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your face on his shoulder. He felt, in that moment, as if he was standing on jelly, his knees threatening to buckle and his spine like liquid. There was not enough of you pressed against him. He felt burning hot and freezing cold at the same time, his skin crawling with want and desire, his cock half-hard already and his mind buzzing. 

“Clever.” You chuckle into the crook of his neck. Aemond shivers as your warm breath hits the sensitive skin there. 

“Did I wake you?”

His words are a whisper. Soft and with underlying guilt. You do not sleep well anymore, not without him. Too much has happened. The death of Jaehaerys proved that there is no sanctuary that cannot be breached, not a lock that cannot be broken, and not a part of you that will not suffer.  

You shake your head. 

“Liar.” 

“I was already awake. I like to…” 

“Hm? There is no judgment here.”

There was not an inch of you that he would part from – not a sliver of you he would not take, and not a piece of you he did not dream of devouring. The opposite was also true, for he craved to be taken, to be devoured and kept more than he ever dreamt of possessing. Aemond would have all of you, had woven that promise into the very fabrics of your marriage, embedded the words as if they were a spell into his vows, and oh, how sweetly you had smiled upon hearing them. He doubted you heard them for what they truly were. Are. 

“I watch you,” you confess, “when you sleep. You look so… so peaceful. The war has yet to poison that.” 

He blinks. Seconds tick by, but Aemond is too busy staving off the greedy blush from turning him red to respond. He is unable to respond, truly, even were he not practically glowing at your words. Words clump together on his tongue. 

“I should speak to the Housekeeper then,” Aemond clears his throat, “ if the room is so lacking you need to resort to staring at me. Though, perhaps I should thank her for her oversight that surely allows you to fall asleep quickly.” 

The corners of your lips fall, barely, but there is nothing about you he does not notice. There is nothing you can hide from his greedy eyes. 

“Twas a compliment, husband.”

“Perhaps a visit to the Maester is needed-”

You press a hand flat against his cheek and he falls silent. Your thumb brushes across his cheekbone to the apple of his cheek, to under his eye. There it rests, caressing him. He wants more. Your touch is only skin-deep, and it is not enough. If he could, he would press himself against your skin until all that remained of him was fading heat. Until he was but a faint whisper on the wind and his memory lived on only in you, for there was not a part of him he did not wish to give you. He would carve a place for him in you – in your heart, so that he would be close always. You would beat as one, breathe as one.  

“Yours is a beauty that the gods go to war for.”

“Perhaps once.” Aemond looks away. 

“Scars are stories of hardships overcome. They are marks of victory, do not think they make you less. They never will. Not to me.”

“Perhaps so, but I am not whole. There is a piece of me that was stolen and I can never get it back. The gods would not even glance at a man such as I for anything other than a feat of greatness.”

“And you have shown them many,” you press a short kiss against his neck. “You claimed the Queen of all Dragons,” another kiss, “you won many battles on dragonback,” another kiss, “you showed mercy to your enemies,” a series of kisses follow that claim, all inching up his neck. “You saved your brother and Sunfyre,” a kiss on his cheek, “you were crowned King by the smallfolk”, this kiss fell on the corner of his lips, “and you have been a most attentive husband.” 

A kiss straight on his lips. Aemond melts into it, pressing himself into you. You pull away too soon and he finds himself chasing after you, desperate for one more touch. 

“The gods give the toughest battles to their strongest soldiers.” You thumb the skin under his eye, “and you have won them all. Take pride in that. Gods know I do.”

“You do?” He asks. 

He did not think himself strong, or a champion of god given battles. His weaknesses tower over the oasis of strength, and so they are hidden to him. But he is not a vain man, that is not why he hates Luke for stealing his eye. 

You smile. “Of course. And I think all the beauty in the world fades compared to yours. Scars and all.”

Aemond is not sure he believes your words, but he believes you. It is a conflicting mess of jumbled thoughts mingling with the words of others. He was never the beauty of the family, his dragon was not the beauty of her kin. His life was one of hiding, of pride hidden beneath compliance, of hatred festering under blushing skin. 

“You flatter me, my love.” He says before his eyes wander back to your roses. “Yours is the only opinion worth hearing. The only one that matters.” 

You hum. “Come back to bed, Aemond.” 

“As my Queen commands.” 

The draping curtains flutter in the soft autumn wind, and from Aemond’s side of the bed he could see out across the Blackwater Bay. Sometimes when the wind is harsh and the rain plenty, Aemond is back in the skies above Storm’s End. He dreams of thousands of ways he could have saved Luke, though he does not wish he lived, not truly. In some dreams he thought of ways he could harm him further – truly punish him for what he took from Aemond that night. 

You can never have all of him. Not anymore. Though he dares not tell you that is why he cannot look at himself in mirrors. He would not show you the twisted being that hid under his skin. The one that would gouge out his other eye without hesitation were you to ask and smile as he did so. 

He could never, would never forgive Luke for what he stole from you. It is a hatred so woven into his very being that he would carry that with him even in all Seven Hells. 

“Come,” you beckon, kneeling on the bed. “If my words alone are not enough, I will prove it to you.” 

“Prove what?” 

His voice is low, filled with desires transcending earthly flesh. His is one of hunger for your very soul. 

“Come here and I will show you.” Your smile is coy, playful even. There are half-wilted petals from your roses on the bed behind you. They form no pattern, haphazardly thrown across the sheets.

He wonders when you put them there. 

Aemond comes to a stop in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, posture ramrod straight. He feels as though he is standing in front of the gods themselves, awaiting judgment. He hopes that he is enough, even if he cannot offer you all of him. There will always be a piece of him enduring the times alone. 

He does not feel worthy of you. No amount of petals carefully gathered off prickly stems will soften the harsh edges of his being. The love he grew up around was conditional, and though he was rarely struck, their words were as sharp as daggers, and left deep scars that will never heal. It left him jagged, bleeding, tearing at the seams with a beast untamed. In the image of you he tried to mend himself, with your love he patched the holes left by cruel words. He tore the flames from his breath so that his wrath could never burn you, the claws from his hands so that his touch would always be gentle. Not a piece of him was worth suffering in the absence of anything you. 

He was a dragon playing at being a lover. 

But he broke his wings for just a glimpse of you, then forced himself to fly when you desired to feel the wind against your face. You could not see the darkness oozing from the cracks of him, of your husband as you knew him. 

If it meant losing you, he would be a dragon no longer. 

He could simply be him. 

Aemond. 

But Aemond knew not who he was anymore. He knew who he was forced to become, and who war made him. But war was no longer, and yet the man rising from the ashes of his kin’s pyres remained. 

“Aemond?”

“Yes?”

“Where do you go when you get so lost in your head?” 

He does not wish to reveal to you how deep his longing for you goes. It is etched into the walls of his heart, it is a bottomless pit that calls only your name. He can never fill it. It aches and aches, and he longs and longs. His envy knows no bound, it is endless in its hunger for you. He would have all of you if he could, just as he wants you to have all of him. Every thought in your head, every feeling, every sensation. 

“Lost. I get… lost.” He confesses. The words are raw and a piece of his armor is cracked open to reveal mangled flesh of all Aemond’s that has been and will be. His recreation of himself in your image is as endless as his need to please. 

“Oh, my love,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

You reach for the strings on his trousers before you pull them down. He steps out of them easy enough, though he feels awkward standing there with his tunic on. Though you did not leave him to suffer for long before you pulled his shirt off as well. You palm at his chest, touching every divot and lean muscle on his chest. It is overwhelming. He almost feels like crying. 

Your fingers massage, they scratch, they soothe and they burn his feverish skin. Your touch sets him alight. He can feel your love through every pass of your fingers over his skin. You press against the lean muscle, caress the slopes and divots of his flesh. Though you have long since memorized each other’s bodies, you touch him as if it is your first. His mind is dizzy with you, he feels as if he’s falling and drowning at the same time. The pleasure fills his throat, his lungs, and yet it also sweeps him off his feet, knocks the breath out of his chest. He wants more. He wants you to press harder, to mark him. You could press through his skin, through his muscles and ribs, and grasp his very heart, and you would still be so far away he wanted to weep.

His cock stiffens, though you keep touching him. You brush over his right nipple, then the left, then both. It is a strange sensation – one he’s not wholly against. 

Then, 

your fingers brush against his abdomen, trace the outline of his abs, then dips below. You grasp him firm in hand, and Aemond thinks he sees stars. You are so very soft, and he is so very very hard. 

The whore Aegon forced on him at his thirteenth name-day held him tightly, too tightly, then rubbed his skin raw, and still he could not force himself to come. He remained flaccid and cold in her calloused hands, even as Aegon jeered and leered from his place on the dais. 

But you showed none of her cruelty, none of the cold indifference. Just your presence took him halfway to completion, and he doubted it would take much more. Your other hand reaches below to cup his balls. That touch is less gentle, more firm. You start to twist the hand holding his cock, bringing it back and then forth in long, slow movements. You switch between firm, soft, fast, and then slower. But it is never not gentle. And you never look away from his eyes.

Though half-lidded, jaw slack and chest heavy, he stares at you. Pleasure of the flesh is second to the connection he finds in your eyes. 

His eye blinks wide open at the new sensation. Your mouth is warm and soft like silk. It is heaven made flesh, and it makes his knees tremble. You envelop him, tongue hot on his cock. You pay special attention to his head; trace the veins and the weeping slit with extra care. And, oh, is he weeping. 

Aemond needs more. 

He wraps his fingers around your hair, then gently guides you back and forth. A single shake of your head would free you from him, should you wish, but you don’t. Your tear-filled eyes plead with him for a tighter hold, and he complies. A bit. But he is soon lost to the pleasure of your mouth, and so as his eye flutter shut and he shudders, he finds himself guiding you all the way down so that your nose meets the short hairs at his base, and then back up just far enough that your lips wrap around his head. 

The reverence of a septon to the gods are nothing compared to that which he whispers your name.

Though if he finds the most pleasure from your sucking his cock or from knowing that a piece of him was inside you, he would never know. You swallow him down so easily, and with so much enthusiasm he is mournful that there is not more he can give. 

There is a knife on the chest by his feet. He wonders, would you swallow all of him as easily as his seed? If he cut himself would you lap at his wounds? 

Then, you pull away. You crawl up the bed until you fall down on the many pillows at the top of the bed. He follows without thought, kicking off his shoes and socks. His hair tie is next and his pale hair falls down his back. You are not prey, and he is not a predator, but he feels a thrill chasing after you into your marital bed. It sets his blood alight with desire. 

“That was cruel.” He says. “I was close.” 

He wasn’t. Your passions are his passion, your pleasure his pleasure. 

“Then I suppose you should get revenge.” You bite your lip. 

Your nightwear is thin. It is easily swept away from your body and thrown on the floor. 

“Yours is the beauty gods would die for.”

“It is all for you.” You tell him as you lean back against the pillows. 

His eye rove over you. Not an inch of you is not perfect, not an inch he did not love. All of you on display for him; an offering for a vengeful man. You are not unmarred by the war, and there is not a scar he does not kiss. He feels your pain as if it was his, and each wound on your body is his failure. 

“We match,” you told him once. 

He did not have the heart to tell you that this was done in your honor, to take the pain from you and deliver it upon him. He cut himself open for all the gods to see, then demanded they scar him as they did you. 

Aemond runs his hands along your form with the same careful love as you did him. His hands caress the skin on your ribs, dance around your sensitive nipples to lay flat over your heart. It pounds against your skin, calling out to him. His beats in turn. Then, he turns his attention to your breasts. You are most sensitive there. His lips wrap around a nipple, and you gasp. His hand wanders down your stomach, through the hair covering your cunt, and then he presses down on your clit. You jump into his touch, eyes widening at the sudden pleasure. 

“Aemond.” You moan. 

His mouth comes off your nipple with a wet ‘pop’ before he leans down and claims the other. He presses tight circles into your clit, alternating directions, then he moves his index finger to nudge at your entrance. His thumb stays on your clit, but the motions are lazy. He spells his name, then yours, then he stops. 

Aemond pulls away, but not for long. 

He moves down your body, about to put his lips against your cunt, when you pull at his hair. Aemond groans into your flesh. His desire for you is akin to drunkenness. He is dizzy with it, crazed with a need that can never be satisfied. Still, he presses himself against your folds, tongue darting out to lap at the wetness there. 

It trickles down the abyss of his desire, and in turn it grows. The hunger deepens, hollows out his chest. 

His thumb stays on your clit, but only for a moment before his nose replaces it. He grabs your hips and brings you closer to him. His face is all but buried in you, and yet it is not enough. Your wetness covers his lips, his chin, his cheeks. His tongue digs inside you for more, tip of his nose pressing against your clit in that way that makes your head spin. 

Time seems to stop, your pleasure endless, his chase bringing him closer and closer, and deeper. He presses a finger inside your entrance, before you give way and he thrusts it inside. He pumps it when his tongue darts away, so that you are never empty of him. 

Then, just as your hips start to shake, and your moans grow louder, you pull him away. He protests, loudly, but it falls on deaf ears. You pull him up to you, and he is reluctant to follow. Aemond feels cold and lost, but is then altogether found and warm when your hands wrap around his cock again. 

And the next moment he’s burning. 

You guide his cock inside you, and he sputters to life. His lips press down on yours, uncaring of the taste of him inside your mouth. He needs the connection, needs you. Aemond thrusts wildly against you for a few moments, his cock driving in and out of you with filthy wet sounds. 

You hold his face in your hands as you kiss, and his thrusts grow more controlled. Aemond wants it to last. Wants to drag out your connection for as long as he can, but he can feel his orgasm building already. His lower back aches with it, his toes curling against the bedsheets. He moves to slow down but the second he tries, you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing your feet against his buttocks to slam him into you. It is the same when he tries again, until he drives back with the same force as you drive him back in. 

The pace is maddening, your sounds so sweet he feels like he’s drowning. He knows not where he ends and you start, but he would have it no other way. If he pushes into you hard enough would you truly become one? In body as you are in soul? 

“Gods, Aemond,” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust.

Aemond brings his finger back down to thumb at your clit as apology, and you sing even sweeter for it. 

Time means nothing, there is only you and him. And then you’re falling over the cliff of pleasure, and he dives after you, clinging to you with bleeding fingers. Your pleasure is his pleasure, two halves of a whole finally forcing themselves together. There is not a crack in your connection, and Aemond thinks he sees stars as his vision goes white. He gasps and moans into your mouth, your pants and sounds of pleasure drowned by his need to bring himself closer to you. 

He lets himself fall upon you, cock softening inside you. His head spins still, but his heart beats like a drum in his chest at knowing that he’s once again been claimed by you. Even when he pulls himself free (reluctantly) there is still a piece of him in you. A piece that would never blossom into something more, for Aemond would not part with a single part of you, not even for himself. 

“I love you,” you pant into his ear. 

“Not as much as I love you,” he says in return. 

You laugh. “‘Tis not a competition, husband.” 

“No.” He agrees, with an easy smile. It is the truth. 

Aemond had won the war, and he had proven himself. And so he would never part from you again, even were the gods to try and force him from your side. The threads of your destiny are weaved together into one singular past, present, future. 

His beauty may be what gods fought for, 

but Aemond? 

Aemond would fight all the Gods, both old and new, 

for just one more stolen moment under silk sheets. 

[zarifreya]

WAS THIS THE SOMETHING OHH MT GODKDJJDJDJDJDDJ GOD BLESS YOU

i feel like i’m interrupting something ………..

[bellatheball]

When I had a goal and trying to hit mile markers like 350, 400 I felt like I was working so hard to gain and to expand my stomach capacity and to eat enough calories naturally and pleasurably as possible. But now 420 and beyond I’m like I’ve created a monster, I’m bigger than ever, I don’t even have a goal rn just trying to be blissfully unaware and happy … only focused on stuffing my large face and growing body and staying satiated physically and sexually is more of the goal now. I’ve fully succumbed to my desires and all I care about is feeling good, eating, being fed, being sexually satisfied, and being comfy and cozy. Just a completely happy heifer without worries is all I’m hoping for nowadays :) And with that the weight just keeps piling on, and I don’t see an end in sight really? Is that very irresponsible of me? Am I still sexy as ever? Idk I just love good yummy food and being a lazy happy hippo 🦛 I guess as long as I’m not seeing my health decline there’s no harm in living my dreams..ppl engage In risky behavior all the time and don’t get judged so harshly. Just let me live my life how I want in peace and huge! More to love!!!! 💕

[neitherofusideal]

Boston Hannibal Reunion 2024

Photo © krisandcats via Instagram

Oh I can't even begin to tell how overwhelmed I am with the number of interesting questions asked in this panel. I was only halfway through the video and my interest was already beyond satiated. No mere crumbs today, we're being fed really well.

Some great topics (and my personal favorites) that were brought up in the panel were:

Hannibal's time travel equations in Digestivo

Will about 'falling in love with Hannibal'

Hannibal Extended Universe being brought up (like if any of Mads & Hugh's other characters could do a cameo in Hannibal, and if one of their characters could meet the other's character)

If they could eat a painting, which one would it be

What would Hannibal say to Molly if he met her

How Will would have described Hannibal to Molly

On Hannibal and Will's habits and life on the run

About the time skip in TWOTL

How Will's mind palace looks like and a bonus question of how Mads & Hugh's personal mind palaces would look like

I really enjoyed this panel! ❤️

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XIV: Sharing Beds like Little Kids

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read on ao3 | read bee's diary

songs for this chapter: my friend by hayley williams, hold me like a grudge by fall out boy, ribs by lorde

summary: of course, your best friends are throwing a party before the party. of course, you have to go! what happens at that party, however, has nothing to do with you.

a/n: this one’s a little long idk what got into me i must be ovulating. Chapter 15 is already 1/3 written so. uh. buckle up!

chapter tags: raunchiness, adult language and behavior, drinking, drugs (weed), swearing, LORE DROP!!, dialogue heavy, slightly perv!eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn-y (the fire is catching!!) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

--

It isn’t until Friday that you see Eddie again, not that you’re keeping track. You’d sent pointless texts back and forth, usually receiving pictures of Ethel in exchange for a picture of a stupid bumper sticker you thought he’d laugh at. Not that you’re trying to make him laugh. 

You pull into the parking lot behind Steve and Robin’s apartment, cutting the engine and abruptly stopping the music blaring through your speakers. You haul yourself and a twenty pound backpack up the six flights of stairs, following the muffled sounds of your friends’ erratic voices, barely decipherable under the music playing from the television.

“Bee’s here!” Robin calls before throwing the front door open, a red solo cup in her hand as the music floods your senses. “Hello, my prettiest friend.” She greets, playfully kissing each of your cheeks.

“Oh, no. What did Steve do?” You giggle at her tipsy smile, glossy eyes. You’re painfully sober, having to drive yourself over. Luckily, you’d been invited to stay the night. 

“He bet me I couldn’t chug an entire can of Bud Light.” She hiccups.

“Rob, you hate beer.”

She nods, gleeful. “That’s why I did it.”

“How much did you win?”

Her smile falters. “Twenty bucks.”

You burst into giggles as Steve invades the space over her shoulder. “Hi, Bee!”

“Hey, loser.” You take the cup he offers you that smells too strongly of vodka. “Please don’t tell me you made this.”

“Nah, but I feel like if I tell you who did you’ll hit me.” You focus over his shoulder, where Eddie is mixing a second drink for himself. “If it makes you feel any better, I told him it was for you and he got right to work. Seemed like he knew what he was doing.”

You sip the drink hesitantly, the liquor pleasantly burning as it glides down your throat, sweetened with Sprite and grenadine. “Dirty shirley.” You nod approvingly. “Maybe I should be a little nicer.” You take another sip, and can tell instantly that it’s a heavy pour. “Don’t let him make all my drinks, though. I might need to get my stomach pumped.” You make your way to the kitchens without a thought, knowing your friends will follow. Eddie is talking to someone, his back to you as he nods enthusiastically at whatever they’re saying, free hand moving in erratic circles while his other clutches his drink. You watch the way his shoulders tense when you step into his personal space, and feel the slightest bit smug about it. He still hasn’t looked at you, so you take another step forward, landing yourself barely an inch away from your chin landing on his shoulder. 

“Hi, Bee.” Eddie chides, angling his body to invite you into the conversation with the other boy in front of him, who you can now see is Jeff. 

“Hi.” You bare your teeth in what you hope is a grin before taking another sip of your drink, shuddering as it slides down your throat. 

“Jeff, y’mind if I–” He tilts his head to indicate his wish to exit. Jeff nods, and you catch the way his eyes roll at his friend. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to like, steal you. You coulda finished your conversation.”

Eddie shakes his head, and you can tell he’s tipsy by the way he’s smiling at you; widely enough that his eyes crinkle at the corners, his top teeth ever so slightly resting on his bottom lip. “I’d rather be conversing with you anyway.” The words slide through your skull. You feel warm. “So?”

“Hm?” You have forgotten exactly what it was you came over here for. You can feel your friends’ eyes still on you, ten feet behind and probably trying to read your lips. 

“What did you wanna talk about?” 

“Oh, um,” God, what was it? “I wanna buy some weed.”

He blinks at you. “What?”

“You do… sell weed? Right? Sorry, am I supposed to be using, like, code words?” You have no desire, or frankly any cash, to buy weed from Eddie. 

He answers with a timid laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I, uh, haven’t in awhile. I mean I have some on me, but you don’t have to, like, pay for it.”

“Do I have to smoke it with you?” You don’t mean it to sound rude, and you wince at the way it comes out. “Because I wouldn’t mind doing that, either.”

Before Eddie can respond, Steve is shouting at you from across the room. “Bee, c’mon! We’re about to play truth or dare! You too, Ed, let’s go!” 

“Are we in fucking high school?”

“No, silly! We’re playing the adult version!” He’s dragging the drink cooler over to the kitchen table before you can ask what that means. 

“The game is simple,” Robin starts, her usual goofy disposition gone, replaced with an absurd sense of authority. “You ask someone, truth or dare. They can either: complete the challenge, or opt to take a mystery drink,” She motions to the massive Igloo cooler, which Steve opens for dramatic effect. “In here, I have curated a collection of random alcoholic beverages from the crevices of this party. If you cannot complete the truth or dare requested of you, you may only avoid punishment by chugging whatever you pull from the cooler of DEATH!” She stops, expecting a collective gasp that never comes. “First person to puke has to clean up tomorrow.” She adds, which starts the group of you panicking.

There are eight of you playing: Steve, Robin, Eddie, you, Gareth, Jeff, Nancy, and Jonathan; the last two of which you have only just noticed are here. You form a circle around the kitchen table, where other party goers have crowded to watch the inevitable drama unfold. One thing remains true about Steve and Robin, they know how to have fun. 

“Let the game begin!” Robin claps her hands together before spinning an empty beer bottle on the hardwood table. It lands on Nancy, causing Robin’s gaze to shift downward, mischief shining in her eyes. “Nancy Wheeler. Truth or dare?” 

Nancy is a beautiful girl, you can’t argue with that. Everyone that went to high school with you would agree, knowing Nancy as the whip smart, criminally beautiful girl next door. Since graduating, though, you’d lost most contact with her. She’d gone to Emerson, and from the town gossip you know she’s still the top of her class, but beyond that you have no idea what she’s like. Maybe the game will answer a few of those gaps. 

“Truth.” So she’s still one to play it safe?

“Boooring!” Robin fakes a yawn. “Fine. What is your deepest regret from your time in college?” Nancy’s eyes widen at her friend’s question, and you think she’s gonna chicken out.

“I’d have to say…” She looks away, tapping her finger against her chin mockingly, and you giggle. “Not getting to have the usual, y’know, college experience.” She emphasizes the words. Are you supposed to know what she’s talking about.

“Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“The rules don’t say I have to!” Nancy exclaims, but Robin won’t take no for an answer. 

“C’mon, you’re no fun!”

“I wish I got to–” She glances at her boyfriend, who’s picking at the label of his beer. “Ugh, roll me the cooler.”

Robin snorts, shaking her head. You look from where Nancy is blushing profusely, to Steve who is sitting there, head cocked to the side. “What the hell are you even–” Nancy darts her eyes from Steve to Robin, and Steve seems to catch on. You watch as his face contorts from confused to enlightened. “Oh! You wanted to have sex with a woman!”

“Steve!” Nancy, Robin, and you all exclaim in unison, begging the boy to shut up. 

“What?!”

“Oh my god will someone just go?” Nancy cracks open a cider, and you envy her luck of the draw. As she chugs it, Steve reaches for the bottle and gives it a spin. It eventually slows, and lands on you. 

“Shit.”

“My precious Bee,” Steve twiddles his fingers together, a menacing glint in his eye. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm,” You have no idea what to expect from Steve. He’s been your best friend for years, he was there for you when Eddie left, when your brother was sentenced. He’s never been anything but kind, there’s no way he’d betray you now, right? “Dare.”

“I dare you to sit on Eddie’s lap.” He doesn’t even have to think about it, he had that one locked and loaded.

“Wait, what?” You sputter, whipping your head to look at where Eddie is sitting across from you. His eyes have widened with Steve’s outburst, his cheeks far more pink than his drunkenness would call for. “I can’t just do that, he has to consent!” Aha, you’ve wiggled out of this one.

“I consent!” Eddie smacks his hand on the table. “It’s cool with me.”

You could just drink. You could escape all of this with a quick gulp of… something. But your vision is already blurred at the edges, and your head feels too light to be attached to your neck. So sitting in Eddie’s lap will have to be it. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo, Steve.” You can assume why he’d do something like this. He’s bored. He’s single, and he’s horny, and he wants to torture you. Makes perfect fucking sense. You push yourself from your chair, dragging it across the floor for dramatic effect before circling the table and approaching Eddie. He accommodates you, pushing the chair back and uncrossing his legs before patting his lap playfully. “Your throne awaits.”

“I hate you. Both of you.” You try to place yourself on the edge of his knee, clenching your core to hold your posture, but Eddie isn’t having it. Before you can protest, he’s laced his fingers across your abdomen, and pulls you snugly into his lap. “Get cozy, darlin’, you’re here ‘til the next round.” He says it quietly enough that only you can hear him, and his breath smells of vodka and cigarettes. “God knows I’m perfectly comfortable.” You can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. 

“Your turn to spin, Edward., if your boner isn’t too distracting.” Robin taunts, causing you to backhand her. “What? I’m just teasin’.”

“I’ll have you know, Robin, I’m being quite the gentleman.” You can feel his right hand land on your hip, his grip slightly tensing. He’s nervous. With his other hand, he reaches across the table and flicks the bottle, spinning it hard enough to skip a few times on the wood. It lands on Steve, and you feel Eddie relax, his nerves satiated by the ability to return the favor. “Steven. Truth or dare.”

“I might as well take the drink now.” Steve holds out his hand, exasperated.

“Tsk, tsk, that is not how this game works, my friend.”

“Fine, truth.” Steve huffs, the defeat in his voice almost convincing you to feel sorry for him. You shake that thought off immediately when you feel Eddie shift underneath you. Your back is now pressed flush against his chest, and you can feel his heart racing through the layers of cotton and denim between you. 

“Would you care to tell the class exactly why you were called King Steve in high school?” It’s not the question you had been expecting. It feels relatively tame, and you’re sure you know the answer. Steve slept around, it was a known fact. You’d watched as he’d take girl after girl out on dates in his nice car, charm the pants off ‘em, rinse, repeat. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Summer. Before freshman year.” Eddie has something up his sleeve, something even you don’t know about. 

“Eddie.” You try to be quiet in your warning. “Stop it.”

“Oh, at the lake?” Eddie waits for him to continue. “We were playing capture the flag.” Even in your current state, the memory rushes to the front of your brain.

–

That Summer before High School

“Steve, run!” Chris’s voice cracks as he shrieks across the sand. You had successfully blocked Steve from returning to his home base up until this point, but you were getting tired. “Fake’er out!”

Steve fakes right, and you let him slip through your fingers, the makeshift “flag” in the wind behind him. You lunge for it in vain, but he dodges your feeble attempt, and plants himself within the bounds of his territory. 

“Yeah!” Chris cheers from behind you, where Eddie has finally caught up to him, huffing in an attempt to catch his breath. It wasn’t fair, facing Chris and Steve, a track star and a football player, as someone whose athletic ability started and ended with the middle school band, and the little sister that no one really wanted there. 

“Okay, fine. You win. Again. King Steve and his fuckin’ jester.” You stick your tongue out, and he flips you off with the hand not clutching the piece of cheap fabric for dear life. Eddie cackles as he approaches you. “God, if that nickname sticks he’s gonna leave us in the dust.”

Steve gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like he’s been stabbed. “I would never!”

–

Fast forward to the second semester of Freshman year, and Steve’s already… different. Sure, he still hangs out with you, but he’s barely acknowledged Eddie since Homecoming. In fact, Eddie’s been drifting further from both of you, instead hanging out more with Chris, as well as some Dungeons and Dragons dweebs from his lunch period. 

–

“And then, well, y’know.” Eddie sits back in his chair, and the shift in position has you clenching your thighs together in a panic. Don’t fucking move.

Steve shrugs. “I think I have since made up for who I was in high school, Eddie. It’s your turn, Jon.” Jonathan is shaken out of his haze, flicking his fringe out of his eyes before leaning forward and spinning the bottle. It lands on Jeff. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, dare.”

Jonathan dares Jeff to take a gravity bong rip, which Jeff accepts. You and your friends cackle when he can’t hold his smoke, sputtering and coughing on the exhale, head shaking with disgust and discomfort. The round ends with everyone having done at least one, and it’s once again Robin’s turn to spin the bottle. When it lands on you, the room seems to stiffen, and you probably could have heard a pin drop if you focused hard enough. “Bee, truth or dare?”

“Have I mentioned today how much I despise you?” You have no real malice in your tone, but she pouts at you anyway. 

“Truth.” 

“Ugh! Oh for two. Fine, be honest: how uncomfortable are you right now?” She cocks an eyebrow, and you take a beat to think about your answer. Truthfully, you’re not the slightest bit uncomfortable. Physically, you and Eddie seem to fit together, moving in sync without an issue as the game continues. You’re not laser focused on the way his strong legs feel underneath you, or the fact that your ass has been sat on his crotch for at least the last forty five minutes. His hand hasn’t moved from your hip, and he’s been rubbing grounding circles on the sliver of exposed skin above your jeans and below the hem of your shirt. You feel safe, and that information doesn’t even freak you out.

“Hello? You in there, Bee?” You’re dragged from your thoughts, and your gaze shifts from Robin to Eddie, who’s waiting eagerly for your answer, eyes wide and waiting.

You shrug. Because it’s no big deal. “He’s kinda bony, but I’m alright.” You feel him laughing, and you giggle along with him when Robin groans. “Face it, Rob. We’ve just matured so much since the last time we played this game.” You reach over to poke at her, and she shoos you away with a huff. 

–

Eventually, the game comes to a natural end, and your friends and acquaintances begin to empty the apartment. You’re left on the couch nursing a water bottle Steve had shoved into your hand about half an hour ago, when you’d mistaken his ficus for a toilet. Now you owe him a ficus. You’ve stripped down to your change of clothes: a pair of satin shorts and a big tee shirt that almost reaches your knees. It’s when he approaches that you thank your past self for stashing the clothes in your backseat, preventing you from being caught with your pants down, literally. 

“Mind if I sit?” You look up to find Eddie hovering over you, holding a can of beer in one hand and an unlit joint in the other. You pat the cushion next to you, curling your feet into your body to give him more room. “You doin’ okay? You’re looking a little…” He trails off, searching for a word that isn’t a synonym for “horrible.”

“Sickly? Pale? Greasy? Clammy? I’m sure.”

“I was gonna say tired. You sleepin’ here?”

You nod, then wince at the way your brain pinches with the movement. “Yeah, no way am I in any shape to go home. What about you?”

Eddie nods, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Steve said the floor was all mine. Such a generous guy.”

You are not responsible for what you say next. “You can sleep next to me, if you want.”

He turns his head slowly, like sudden movement would spook you. “What?”

“What, what? There’s plenty of space, this couch takes up the entire damn room.” The couch is massive, with two chaise lounges and a stretch of pillowy cushions in between. It would be a ridiculous thing to own with only two people to use it, but Steve and Robin throw enough ragers to warrant the extra space. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Why would I be fucking with you?”

He can’t find a real answer, so he deflects. “Because I’m so much fun to fuck with, obviously.”

“Whatever. If you wanna be weird and sleep on the uncomfortable, stinky carpet, go right ahead.” You yank the blanket to your chin and turn your back to him. Instead of resigning to the floor, you feel the cushions shift, and dare to peek at the man across from you. You catch him just as he yanks his jeans down, metal clanging as he tosses them to the floor. You gulp when he lifts his shirt over his head, leaving just his boxers clinging to his soft form. For what seems like the hundredth time tonight, you’re squeezing your thighs together. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, and you pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

“Ugh, how?” You snap, irritated more with yourself than with him.

“Your breathing. It’s too quick, too irregular.”

“I could have been having a nightmare.”

“Nah, you talk in your sleep. I would have known.” You gape at him, though he probably can’t see your flabbergasted expression in the dark.

“You remember that?”

“Bee, I practically lived with you at one point. Of course I do, that shit gave me nightmares!”

You snort, remembering the way Eddie would recap what you’d said while unconscious the night before. “Yeah, I said some weird shit.”

“Some seriously freaky shit.”

“Speaking of, what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, right. I uh, wanted to ask you. About earlier. Was that, like, too weird for you?”

“What, the game?” You play dumb. You don’t know exactly where he’s going, but you have a feeling it’s gonna get way less lighthearted. 

“Yeah, I guess. Like, the whole thing. I wouldn’t have held it against you if you didn’t wanna stay sitting there. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable to be around me.” You can’t see him, but you could swear you hear his voice crack with nerves. “I know we were, like, inebriated or whatever, but I still wouldn’t want you to feel like, pressured or–”

“Eddie. It’s okay. You were a perfect gentleman.”

 “I wouldn’t say perfect.” 

“Oh?” You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. “What do you mean by that?” 

A loaded silence follows. Then, after a deep breath, the words drip from his mouth. “I had pictured you in my lap under different circumstances so many times, Bee. It was practically impossible to ground myself.” The pounding in your ears is louder, faster. You can feel it between your legs now, too. “Sorry, too much?”

“No! No, just,” You’re at a loss. How he says these things like it’s nothing, like he’s just shooting the shit with a friend. Casually. “You can’t just say shit like that to me.”

“Why not?” It feels like a challenge.

“Because, Eddie! We aren’t, like, besties. Not anymore! There is so much we still haven’t fucking talked about and you’re talking to me like you’re the same horn dog teenager I knew before shit hit the fan. It feels like you don’t see how badly you hurt me.” 

“Of course I know how badly I hurt you, sweetheart. I spent every day for the last six years thinking about what I did. What I should have done. I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing I do now will make up for it, but I am gonna do whatever I can to be honest with you. Fully. From now until you kick me out of your life forever.”

In the safety of the dark, you find yourself confident as you respond. “And that includes your horny thoughts… why?”

“Because I am a twenty something year old man and most of my honesty comes from my dick.”

You cackle despite the growing frustration in your chest. “Okay, I think you’re still too drunk. Time for bed, perv.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure to take all this back when we sober up.” You don’t respond out loud, but the words “I hope not” float through your brain as you begin drifting out of consciousness, your legs entwined with Eddie’s, his leg hair tickling your skin. Soon, his snoring pulls you under, and your mind goes blank. 

–

You wake up to the sound of Eddie’s snoring in your ear. “What the f– Ah!” You shove yourself backwards, registering Eddie’s mess of curls tickling your nose, his head resting next to yours, a far different position than you remember him falling asleep in. He doesn’t budge with your outburst, still dead asleep as you collect your thoughts. “Eddie? Eddie!” You start shaking him, and he groans at the disturbance. “Why are you, like, on top of me?”

“Hm? Good mornin’, princess.” His voice is raspy with sleep and you clench your fists to distract yourself from the shivers it causes. “You were havin’ a nightmare, you don’t remember?”

You furrow your brow, trying to recall your dream. Vaguely, you can remember Eddie and Chris, the three of you as kids playing some game or another like you always had. You can sort of remember not being included, like the two of them couldn’t see you. “Did I talk again?”

Eddie laughs, but not at you. “A little, yeah. Started yellin’ my name at some point. That’s what woke me up.”

You hide your face in your hand. “God, I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Felt like old times, a little bit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you missed me fucking up your REM cycle.” You’re joking, but his smile softens at your words.

“I really, really did. Believe it or not.” This radical honesty is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. “So, anyway. I woke up, flipped around, hugged you for a while. You seemed to be okay after that. Sorry. I didn’t wanna risk waking you up. I know it worked when we were kids.”

You remember when Eddie would sleep over on weekends and during the summer. You, him, and Chris would sprawl out in the living room. Sometimes, you’d watch scary movies, and as a result you’d get the scariest nightmares about Jason Vorhees or Ghostface or whoever the slasher was that night. Eddie had somehow discovered that wrapping himself around you like a koala would calm you down, and you’d wake up in his very sweaty embrace, feeling extremely well rested. You feel that same relaxation now, Eddie’s nose inches away from yours. 

“Thanks.” You whisper the word, but he hears you.

“Don’t mention it.”

You could leave it there. Get up and pretend none of it ever happened, but you can’t. “Every day I think you can’t bewilder me any more than you already have, and every day I’m wrong.” You dare to look him in the eye as you say it, dare yourself to feel everything you’d been avoiding until this point. “What the fuck are you doing to me, Munson?”

He shrugs, then rests a hand on your waist. “I’m makin’ up for lost time.”

[in-som-niyah]

Jason todd who would def cut patrol short when reader calls him cuz her vibrator died??? idk i literally see his weakness as being needed in any way... <333

a/n: anon ur so right

"I'm on my way pretty girl, just sit tight for me."

warnings: piv sex, explicit smut, semi-rough sex, reader masturbates, reader has a vibrator, mentions of other sex toys, jason todd is a whore, no beta we die like men, jason uses spanish petnames because its sexier i dont make the rules, reader has a vagina, reader masturbates, sexual frustration, mentions of heaven & idk what else

The chill of another Gotham night kissed your supple skin. Fresh out of the shower, you made your way back to your Jason-less bed for the night.

The routine of Jason being gone on patrol was painfully familiar, but the ache it left in your chest remained foreign, no matter how many times you experienced it.

This time, he left in a hurry after you both left your business unfinished. His lips sucked at your neck and made their way down to your collarbone, only for his alarm to go off and his helmet to be tugged on. 'I'll see you after patrol, amorcita' he said, knowing full well he would be home around 4 am.

This left an ache in you. Not a fire yet, no, but a craving to be fed what he starved you of hours ago.

Finally dry and setting your towel down, you find a pair of clean underwear and a loose pyjama shirt and lower yourself into bed.

It was a cold night, the frigid sheets and absence of Jason only making it worse. Despite the discomfort, you couldn't deny yourself the subtle pleasure of rubbing your thighs together to satiate the pressing situation between them.

It had been so long since Jason left, and you were fucking needy for Christ's sake.

Deciding to get the job done yourself, you pull out the bullet vibrator that you used when Jason wasn't around. It wasn't that you deliberately kept him from it, he just never asked, and you needed a little escape when he left you in such a state.

Spreading your legs under the covers, you lightly stroked your clit with one hand, while the other toyed with your nipple.

You haven't even turned the damn thing on and you're a panting, dripping mess already, soaking your surrounding area in sweat and stickiness.

Your index finger pressed on the power button, and you increased the pressure on your clit. Instantly, you saw stars and the relief was unimaginable.

Just as you got a steady rhythm going, everything stopped.

You pressed and held down the power button again, but nothing happened.

Your puffy pussy begged for more stimulation, something as intense as the now-gone vibrations, but it was too late. There was no time to charge and all your other toys were dead.

Trying to still at least finish, you employ both your hands between your legs, one rubbing hard circles on your clit and the other prodding at your weeping entrance.

Tears of dissatisfaction burned rivers in your hot cheeks, and your fingers began to tremble and give out. It had been 45 minutes of trying to get yourself anywhere near an orgasm, and your desperation has reached its limit.

Jason always told you to call him in case of an emergency, and this was beginning to be a fucking emergency.

Jason was taking down a group of goons with his guns, while punching and kicking those who came too close. He was much less coordinated tonight (thanks to the tent in his pants), which the gang members took full advantage of. Thoughts of you and your supple skin ran marathons in his head, clouding all focus and occupying all his mental real-estate, making it hard to pay attention to the current pressing issues.

Just as he finished his last one off, his helmet alerts him of an incoming call from you. This is extremely strange, as you don't call or text when he's out at all. He picks up though, panting but quite anxious at the sudden change.

Before he has a chance to ask, you cut him off.

"please jay i-i need you..."

"Huh? What happened princess? Are you alright? Are you safe?" Jason blurts in a frenzy.

"y-yes but i n-need you and it hurts..." You whine pitifully.

"What hurts hm? Tell me, princessa." He continues worriedly as he mounts his motorcycle ready to speed back to you.

You moan at the pet name, sticky fingers returning to your abused cunt and beginning to rub at your clit again in hopes of creating some friction.

"Darling?"

Sudden embarrassment kept your form being straightforward with him and you resorted to another whimper of dissatisfaction once again.

"J-just come home, please Jay?"

"I'm on my way pretty girl, just sit tight for me." Jason responded with a click of the line going dead.

In the meantime, you were a pitiful writhing mess, voice hoarse and hands shaking. The covers have long been forgotten, leaving your open thighs trembling with both frustration and the cold.

Jason was shitting himself. Between your defeated pleas for him to just come home coupled with your reluctance to be specific, he was terrified.

His mind kept replaying scenarios of horror and bloodshed as he ignored every single traffic law to get back to you.

Finally outside your shared apartment, he flung himself up the fire escape and through your kitchen window. When it was deemed safe, he took off his mask and called out to you. He was met with a desperate sobs in response, which only made his worry grow.

Hard footsteps could be heard making their way closer to you, making you flinch slightly.

Upon flinging open the bedroom door, Jason was sorely unprepared to meet such a pitiful sight.

There you were, spread open for all to see. Cunt swollen and wet, dripping like a faucet onto the sweat-soaked sheets. Your braids ran wild behind you as your bonnet had slipped off and your entire body was trembling due to the chill in the air.

Even as his huge form stood over you, your shaky and tired hands continued to rub at your clit, desperate for relief. Your bitten lips were still being chewed and your teary eyes remained squeezed shut.

Jason softened and hardened at the same time, but in different places.

You open your eyes to find him in his tactical gear looming over you and your hands immediately fly up from you body to make grabby hands at him.

He manages a genuine, soft smile despite the carnal desire brewing in his pants.

Before he indulges though, he need to make sure you're okay first.

"Hey, I'm right here love. You alright?" He whispers over your shaking body, his hand volunteering to rub your calf in effort to soothe your shaking.

"J-Jay? fuck I need-" you sob as your trembling hand returns to your abused clit once again.

He catches your hand and kisses the back of it, knowing that this will only overstimulate you. However, this was all the confirmation he needed. Jason stripped himself quickly and crawled his way up to you on the bed.

"Shhhh I know querida, I know... Does it hurt?" Jason questions, trying to gauge the situation the best he could.

You nod fervently, just wanting some fucking relief. Your hips were sore from being in such an open position for so long, your breasts and nipples were raw, and oh god you didn't want to acknowledge the burning between your legs.

Just then, Jason captured your lips with his as soft reassurance. This gentleness didn't last, as your desires began to overtake your mouths and soon, you were both hungrily devouring each other.

Jason was here, with you, right here, right now. 

His hands began to roam, your body, soothing all the tension and frustration that was once there. It hurt him to feel your muscles trembling in such a painful way, but also inspired him to make them shake for a more intimate purpose.

Jason's mouth made its way down your body, from the back of your left ear to your collarbone, making your gasp as he left marks of his devotion in his wake. His journey led him to the valley between your breasts, where his hands began to knead your right breast with practiced skill.

"J-Jay please- oh~"

At your call, his head perks up from where he was kissing down your stomach, just above your navel.

Jason's lustful green eyes settle on your pleading and desperate gaze, to which he smirks and settles the side of his head on your soft tummy and continues holding your gaze.

"Tell me how you want me, cariño"

You bit your lip. All this longing has robbed you of your ability to think, and in the most crucial moment, your mind went blank.

Seeming to notice, Jason moves himself back up to your face, silver chain dangling from his neck over yours, and employs his left hand to smooth your braids from your face.

"You want me to fuck you like the heavens have forsaken us, hm?"

You moan and nod, one of your hands moving to his weeping length and beginning to stroke it.

Jason devours you again, making you eat his moans and whimpers, and finally positions himself between your legs.

Upon swiping a thick finger between your folds he realizes that he's completely good to go, no prep needed.

"Deep breath, mami~" he grits out. He doesn't wait for a response before he's pushing himself all the way in.

You both moan in unison, and continue to do so as Jason's thrusts pickup speed and force.

As soon as he's found a rhythm his mouth and hands didn't leave your body. His chain dangled closely above you as he kissed your cheeks and neck, and his hands kneaded and squeezed wherever they went.

Surprising to neither of you, Jason's pace quickly became brutal, but he continued hitting all the sensitive spots inside your warm walls. His roughness never overshadowed his ability to bring you pleasure, he made sure of that.

Remembering your sore hips, Jason pulls a pillow under your ass to change the angle, which allows him to reach that much deeper inside you.

Your pussy clenches hard at the newfound pleasure and the coil in your lower tummy begins to unravel.

"You like that 'ma? This tight pussy tells me you do." He chuckles.

All you can do is moan and grip the soft sheets for dear life; Jason was making you see Andromeda. 

The coil, never forgotten, was closing in quickly, by which Jason was undeniably privy to due to your walls closing on on him.

You threw your head back and tried to stay in the moment without getting lost in the anticipation of your impending orgasm.

At this, Jason's now free hand found the back of your head and lifted it back up to meet his gaze.

"Amorcita? I know you're close, mi vida. You know what I want" Jason whispers against your mouth, his breath ghosting over your bitten and swollen lips.

The coil was becoming unbearable now. You were teetering on just the edge, just the painstaking precipice of and absolutely mind-bending orgasm.

You notice that Jason was getting sloppier, and his thrusts quicker and not as deep. His quick breaths became laboured and his eyes screwed shut. He was close. 

"You're right there darling. C'mon, cum with me." He says before he smashes his lips on yours and thrusts hard. The coil in your tummy finally snapping at the surprise.

Galaxies and other stars bathed in white bliss was all you were able to perceive as the long-awaited orgasm claimed every blazing nerve in your body. No longer cold, but cozily warm your body felt as the waves of pleasure continued to cascade throughout your body.

Your other half was pushed over the edge by your climax, which then painted your insides a sticky white while he groaned in your ear upon release.

You were too far gone to notice his thrusts coming to a stop and his hands running themselves up and down your sides, gently coaxing your back in the present with him.

"Mami? You back with me yet" Jason whispers in your neck.

You barely register what he's saying, outside stimulation being very hazy and distant.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you're with me yet." He says with a laugh. You looked so lost but finally content.

You nod your head, but this was't sufficient.

"Words, querida."

"Yeah, I'm good." You respond with a sigh.

Though you knew tomorrow morning would be hell on your muscles, you were finally satisfied and happy.

Jason kissed your forehead and got up to get a towel, but stopped once he got to the ensuite bathroom and turned to look at you while leaning on the doorframe.

"Oh and baby?"

You turn over to look at him, your eyes not being able to fight the urge to roam the expanse of his glorious body as if your guts weren't already rearranged.

"Hmm?"

"I hope you never charge that vibrator again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n pt2: PHEWWWW YALL THIS TOOK SO LONG AND MY BROWSER QUIT AND I ALMOST LOST ALL MY PROGRESS

anyways its 3am night night

[charliemwrites]

(Hi, Charlie! You might know who I am just based off of the callsign but I can't leave asks from my cod page, so anon will have to do XD)

So, I was daydreaming and my mind came up with such a Saint thing to say that I'm frothing at the mouth and had to tell you!

So, picture this. Saint and the rest of the pack in the mess hall, eating dinner after a long day. The op they had just gotten back from was a brutal 3 day endeavor with little sleep, less water, and almost no food. But they were all alive, which was the important part.

As they all eat ravenously (even Ghost had rolled up his balaclava to eat quicker) Songbird couldn't help but notice the figure standing vigilantly at the head of the table, arms crossed over his chest in a relaxed stance, watchful eyes taking in his pack and making sure they were all satiated.

"Aren't you going to eat, Alpha?" She called out, her head cocking to the side in curiosity. He must have been starving. He hadn't touched a scrap of food the entire op in favor of making sure that they were as fed as possible on the meager rations.

"Ye should ken be'er by now, bird. Alpha won't eat until we 'Ave. So shut yer' tweeter and just eat, ya' daft little thing thing." Soap's words were followed up with a playful ruffling of her hair, but Songbird was too busy thinking over his words to get upset like she usually would have, mumbling softly to herself as she turned back to her food.

"Wow... that's a lot of restraint..." She could hear an amused chuff come from the alpha who's eyes had been drawn by the bit of commotion, her eyes squinted just a bit in amusement as he spoke lowly.

"It's not restraint if it's easy."

(Alright, that's all, love you charlie, byeeee <3)

Ohhhhh I love love love this. You absolutely nailed it. It’s incredibly to me how yall have picked up on some of Saint’s mannerisms when they’ve only had, like, 4-5 speaking lines

Also, “shut yer tweeter” is sooooo good. Like, absolutely heard that in Soap’s voice. A++ characterization I’m living in your walls 💕💕

[goth-mami-writer]

☆Unbothered☆ (pt.3)

~Au Leon × f!Reader work

~Find parts {one} and {two} here!

~POV: You and Leon are tired parents trying to get some ~alone time~ away from household responsibilities and decide to try your hand at scheduled..😏

@lizzetmv ♡ @danigirls-missions ♡

!!⚠️SMUT WARNING⚠️!!

《Leon looked down at his hands shaking and he said to you almost worriedly with his eyes wide,

“God- What the fuck is in that chocolate?”

“I don't know..” You said, wondering if you should Google any warnings about when to see a doctor if the ingredients were making you see stars from being so feral.

“Where's your condoms?” You asked shakily as Leon held his head that still swam one part in groggy exhaustion but the other from his intense feeling of lust that was burning against his skin, making his blood hot.

“In the drawer. Under the….the uhm.” He snapped his fingers to get the words out, but he quickly became frustrated with the thoughts of you spread out below him in his brain so intensely,

“Fuck, I can't think!”

“I got ‘em.” You said rushing back to the bed, half of a roll of condoms trembling in your hands as you tossed them into the sheets.

He slung down his waistband with a wince to how sensitive the head of his cock felt and you choked down a moan to how erect he actually was. His cock swung against his stomach from its warm stiffness. Leon tore the foil condom with his mouth, spitting the paper corner into the floor, and his breath remained heavy while rolling the latex over his throbbing shaft,

“Baby, please take your panties off. Right now.” He begged with an almost dominant undertone as his face was written in need and your heart thundered to do as he said. You both began to debate on which position to start but Leon became quickly fed up with waiting anymore when he lifted you up into his arms to rest your back against the wooden headboard to your bed.

With only a kiss and a warm breath shared between you, he pushed his length inside you with his hips bucked upwards and together you both gave a loud, breaking moan from the feeling of finally satiating your body's cries for pleasure.

The head board grieved against the wall as he began to fuck you. He pinned you to the surface by holding you under the knees, a position you weren't sure he'd ever given you and your face read clearly of how much you loved it. Your mouth hung open in hot pants for air that dragged away from your throat.

He watched you squirm and wince to his movements, but even amid his carnal need being fulfilled, he asked with broken breaths that huffed between you,

“Am I- am I going too deep? Is it- too much, honey?”

You gawked in disbelief that he was actually asking when he knew it felt this good. It was the opposite. The pure, unadulterated opposite of letting up and going slow. You looked to him with your ogled expression and said with your breath ragged,

“Ugh- no- honey, fuck me harder-..?”

His face turned a bright pink if it wasn't painted in crimson already, and he knew how to move forward. He pulled you back down to the bed, but you became faced towards the mattress before his hands hooked at your hips to perk your ass upwards. You gasped knowing that he planned to take you from behind now and your back arched, much to his delight to see as he reinserted his cock in a thrust.

He took a rough handful of your hair when he began a stronger more lustful rhythm of fucking you deep. Your hips were pulled back to meet his snapping thrusts forward and he felt your body tightening to the feeling of getting what you asked for.

“Leon- ugh-!..” You cried out loudly as your face rose from the blankets for air amidst his driving, unforgiving pace. You hadn't felt him be so lively and wanton since your wedding night and the feeling so raw and satisfying made you lick your lips.

He felt his jaw tighten and his lips hiss a curse through his teeth when you moaned out for him with fervor and delight,

“Oh, baby, you've not said my name that loud in years. Fuck yeah…”

You felt as his knees still planted into the bedside like your own but there was a problem now. You felt your position shifting with every thrust that he made. He was pushing your grounded knees further along the bed. With every hit, you were closer to the edge which would land you both…down to the floor.

Your hand slipped away from the head board that was already knocking against the wall in rhythmic hits and worriedly you said behind you with a gasp,

“Leon-..?”

“Yeah, baby, I know.” He purred, mistaking your words for a mention of pleasure and you rolled your eyes before he too felt the mattress giving way beneath you because of his eager cadence.

He cursed loudly, making you give a short yelp as both of you collapsed into the floor with several thuds from your bodies meeting the carpet. You held your head with only a smile as he began to profusely apologize, his face red for a new, embarrassing purpose, and you could only begin to laugh.

“Are you hurt, honey? I'm sorry - you were trying to warn me.” Leon said with a twinge of shame.

You felt tears in your eyes from the laughter growing from your stomach and then asked him after a moment of shared giggles that Leon would be lying to say didn't turn him on just the same as anything else,

“Can you tell that…we don't get to do this a lot?”

Leon dropped his head in laughter, putting his hand underneath your head to cradle you from the hardness of the floor, and he nodded to agree with a bashful mention,

“We just gotta hop back on this bike and pedal is all.”

You were smiling until you saw that your phone had dropped down beside you during your fall and someone was calling. Your face read of confusion as you saw the caller ID. When Leon asked who was calling you after dark, you scoffed, baffled as to why,

“Susan is calling me?!”

“Who the hell-”

“Jerry's wife, Leon! Next door!”

“WE'RE A LITTLE BUSY- SO SEND IT TO VOICEMAIL.”

He flung your phone to the mattress with a swing as he became frustrated by firstly falling to the floor, which interrupted you both, and now it seemed the distractions were still coming. You promised in a sudden deep kiss that unbothered sex wasn't impossible still, and he wrapped his arms back around you tightly.

After a kiss that was careless and only growing in passion, he said amidst the breath you shared in breaking gasps,

“Get back on the bed with me.”

You only shook your head, telling him with a mischievous grin of where you had decided to finish this,

“No- right here.”

He blushed hearing that you wanted this end on the bedroom floor and he wasn't against it in the slightest. It felt young and free again as he wrapped your legs around him closely, letting his cock push back inside of you with a hiss.

You were amazed that it took only a matter of seconds for you to feel the familiar stirrings of a release again. Your hips writhed as he drove into your body relentlessly, making your palms that grounded your weight behind you begin to tremble from the strength.

You watched Leon's gaped expression begin to twitch to the feeling, an orgasm approaching in his eyes as well, and you felt something snap at the sight of it. You hadn't seen him cum in months and you weren't about to miss it.

Roughly, in a tumble after placing a fallen pillow behind him, you shoved his back to the floor. His eyes widened up to you as you climbed atop him, letting his cock, wet with your arousal, slide back inside expertly. When you began to ride him with what felt to be a vendetta, his eyes could only close to savor it.

“Ugh- baby.” He moaned in a strained whisper from below you, making your blood burn from hearing him so lost in desire.

His hands cupped into your hips, fingers pressing white into your skin as your drives dug deeper, fucked harder against him. His eyes shot open in the feeling of urgency as his body began to climb towards a peak and he jerked your body down to him closely with his arms hooking your torso. You held him with your hands atop his shoulders when his lips met your ear, your hips still bucking and grinding,

“Why…” he spoke gravelly and low as he fought his orgasm,

“Why..are we only..making love every few months? We want each other…all the time. I know it.”

You bit your lip, only listening as he went on with his hushed, breathy banter that warmed your ear,

“I want to fuck my wife every weekend from now on. Get me? We'll make time. But- Ugh-”

You thought he might've been losing his battle, but you felt as if you were losing your own. His hips began pumping upwards, drilling into your body with conviction as he held you in place, making your throat tighten to the feeling, and you only choked loudly and shrill in his collar,

“Leon..!”

His teeth gritted as he knew he couldn't hold back anymore even if he wanted and his jaw clenched to say raggedly as you reached down with a mind clouded in lust to tear away his condom before he came, you wanted every drop of his pleasure and you couldn't deny it,

“-But you deserve it every night. Fuck-!”

“I'm coming, Leon-...!”

Both of you cried out as the pleasure met you with a startling drop that was slow yet jarring when it finally crashed against you both. Your body was slick against his thighs with cream that wetted his skin, a feat that he loved as your orgasm came and Leon's hot ribbons leaked from your insides in streams as he still moved inside you.

Your mouths never parted from a wet, tongue circling kiss as you descended from the bodily high that felt like ages of relief found all at once..but only for the moment. Your eyes were half lidded when finally your lips parted and you moved by driven lust to duck your head low. Leon's eyes fluttered to feel your mouth enclose around his cock that was still slick from your shared mess and he gasped through clenched teeth when your head softly began to bob.

“Aw baby, we ain't done, are we?” Leon gasped, holding your head that only shook gently as your tongue swirled around him.

Suddenly, there was a knocking sound downstairs at the front door, and both of your eyes shot wide at this new interruption.

Your head spun up from his lap, and you saw as both of your heads turned towards the bedroom door to listen closer. When the door downstairs began to thud again, both of you moved to get dressed with what little you had on to begin with. You threw on a thin robe, and Leon chose sleeping pants and a tank top to hurriedly slide on as you both raced down the stairs.

You grabbed your phone and saw that Susan had called you once more during your little round of much needed sex- strangely - and Leon checked the time on his watch as you both came to the foyer,

“It's after eight o’clock, who the hell is this?”

He checked through the door before opening but scoffed with twice as much confusion.

“Hey, Jerry-” He said after swinging the door open, only leaning forward onto the stoop to keep you shrouded in the dark house behind him. You listened in on the conversation beside the door with your robe pulled tight.

“Hey Le-” Jerry, the next door neighbor began amiably with a power drill in his grip,

“Heard you guys working on a project in here while I was taking out the bins, and I wanted to drop by my good drill in case ya needed it.”

Leon's face read of confusion as did yours, and he asked with searching eyes what the man meant by 'project' and Jerry clarified, pointing up to the second level where he clearly didn't know their bedroom was located,

“Sounds like you were having trouble with a hammer and some nails - I just kept hearing a banging sound over and over. Sorry- I tried to get Susan to call before I came over-”

“Oh, GOD-” You groaned into your hands having realized what this was about.

Jerry and Susan clearly heard the headboard banging on your bedroom wall from all the way into your suburban street and subsequently only thought the best of you. Your heart sunk down to your ankles, and you thought your red face could be warmer than a furnace as Leon could only stifle a laugh in his neighbors face.

“You guys hanging some pictures or something?” Jerry asked with a friendly glint in his eye, and Leon choked back a laugh that would be all too obvious if he said what he wanted to. Instead, he mentioned with an underlying meaning that he hoped would remain undetected,

“Yeah- the kids are out at the inlaws so… ugh- we might be hanging pictures all damn night.”

“LEON..” You yelled in response from the kitchen, having fled the situation entirely from embarrassment.

He chuckled, telling Jerry with a polite nod that he'd bring back his drill in the morning and the door closed with a soft thud. He found you in the kitchen where your hand still covered your mouth. Finally, he let go of a hearty laugh, feeling his stomach knot at the circumstances that he found to be hilarious. His joy was contagious, and slowly, you unraveled to laugh with him, holding back your hair as your face reddened now from cackling that was only interrupted by his close proximity.

Leon picked you up in silence to place you on the kitchen island to bring your smiling mouth back to his. Your skin chilled to feel his hands all over you again as your lips were joined somewhat reckless with abandon for what just occurred. The passion grew until you felt your arm swing over to accidentally topple a full glass of wine from earlier in the day, and it clinked to the hard countertop.

Both of you cursed to mind the spill but giggled nonetheless. However, once Leon found the chocolate wrapper again as it lied beside you, he began to read the back, muttering with a smile,

“I gotta know what's in this shit. We're about to have an arsenal underground or something.”

His eyes scanned the ingredient list with a squinted expression, and you assured him that you'd already seen all of it, but you watched his face change reading some of the finer print on the label. The fine print that he didn't read at the store at all.

“I fucked this up.”

“What- are we only supposed to eat half? Is that why we woke up like that? Felt like it.” You said with a snicker, still wiping wine from the counter in front of him but he shook his head.

“This pack is for one person. We didn't even eat the minimum dose. So-”

Together you both shared a look as you understood what that meant and your heart thudded in your chest with a tenderness. Leon put his forehead against yours with a smiled written softer and sweeter.

“Did we just…” You asked brokenly as you rolled your eyes,

“Did we just placebo ourselves with… sex chocolate?”

Leon laughed from within his throat but he knew it was a little deeper than that. Your heart began dribbling as he melted it by cupping his hands around your face when he spoke softly, his intent being made clear,

“I wanted to fuck so bad because I love you. Not.. because of sleazy chocolate.”

He kissed you with promise now, and your hands held his shoulders like a prayer,

“I don't tell you enough. But you do so damn much that I don't even think about. And I'm always five steps behind you, and I need to do better-”

Your hand met his mouth to silence the oncoming apology that you knew in your gut of guts you didn't want. Or need. You pulled him closer, snaking your arms around his neck to tell him with your lips grazing his own as you spoke with your truest feelings about the domestic life that he must've thought troubled you because you often lied tired at night.

“I stay….five steps ahead and do so damn much..because I love my husband. And our children. And the life that we've worked so hard for.”

It didn't matter if soccer was five nights a week. If Maya had braces that cost a million instead of a few thousand. Or if you'd had triplets instead of one last baby a year ago- you were doing it beside him and there was just nothing else you could amend or revise to bring your happiness higher. Your heart was full, and you didn't want for anything.

He kissed you again after hearing that and you felt that the touches now burned with a different kind of heat than before. Your robe was pulled down as he muttered that he loved you between your kisses before he lifted you from the counter. He moved his mouth down to your neck to plant warm kisses to your neck but also to ask after seeing the time again,

“Baby- you wanna make dinner-”

“No-”

“Good- cause I haven't even put my head between your legs yet." He said quickly as he began to tote you back upstairs in his arms, making you giggle deeply in love to his endearing hurriedness to get you back to the bed. 》