Lloyd Hansen + fireplace sex =
i’m picturing laying by the fireplace, the only sounds being the crackling of the wood burning and record playing in the background. the heat from the fire warming your face as you sip from your glass of wine while waiting for lloyd to come home. usually, he’s all go in bed. hair pulling, teeth marks and harsh words; however, this time, he’s missed you. it’s been a rough time away. he just needs to feel you, be close to you, inhale your entire being. he’ll take you firm, but slow. sweet i miss you’s are laced with a filthy breaths as he flips you into your stomach, knocking the wine glass from your hand and washing the white rug red; matching the blood stains on his knuckles as he threads your fingers together as he slides into you.
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There’s something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.
― Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl
BETWEEN THE DESIRE AND THE SPASM
Chapter 8: Our Dried Voices
James wasn’t listening. Sprawled as he was, pitched up on one elbow, he was busy adding to the small heap of ripped-up grass he had built on her bare goosebumped knee. Stockings would soon be necessary.
Lily sighed. She tilted her head back, dappled light falling on her face as she squinted up at the yellowing beech leaves. She uttered a quick prayer to Merlin to give her strength, then turned her eye back on him. Surprisingly she was met by his hazel gaze.
AO3
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DARK BIO 'INSPO' ?
𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑹𝑬𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑮 𝑰𝑭 𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮!❤︎
٬❥𓂅 𝐧𝐚𝗺𝐞 ! : 彡ᵎ
❛ ˑ ִֶָ 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔰 ;; ??? ⸝⸝ ˖‹3 ❜
╰☆ ꓹ ݃ 𝘮𝘣𝘵𝘪 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 -- ˖ ⧉
ᵎ ꒷꒦ 𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 ;; 𝟶𝟶 જ 𝟶𝟶 જ 𝟶𝟶﹒₊˚ ♡̶
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