baelaria

[baelaria]

I think Pope Leo XIV should establish dominance by inviting JD Vance to the Vatican and killing him

[baelaria]

[baelaria]

Maybe we’ll get to see the first American pope in history be the first pope to excommunicate the US vice president

[baelaria]

[baelaria]

— Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

[baelaria]

ditzy!reader and simon “ghost” riley having sex

you’re sprawled on your back, legs wrapped around simon’s waist, moaning like you’re in a goddamn soap opera. he’s slow tonight — grinding deep, eyes fixed on your flushed face, watching every little twitch of your brows like it’s his favorite show.

“feels so good,” you mumble, dreamy and soft. your hands are limp above your head like you’ve given up on existing. “wait… is this still missionary?”

he pauses.

blinks down at you.

“what?”

“like. technically. is this missionary? or is this—like—a variation?”

you squint at him, dead serious, like you just asked him to solve a math problem.

“cuz i think if your knees are up like that it changes the—”

“shut up.”

he says it fast, teeth gritted. “jesus christ, shut up.”

but he’s laughing. kind of. it’s all breath and growling and trying not to smile as he drops his head into your neck, biting down just a little too hard.

“ow,” you squeak, clinging to him like he’s your only life support.

“s-sorry! i was just wondering! i get curious!”

“you get bloody stupid, is what you get,” he grumbles, voice thick with that rough mancunian lilt. “askin’ me about positions while i’m balls deep. what’s next, quiz night?”

you giggle — all bright and breathy like a cartoon — and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

“oh my god wait, do you think this counts as a workout?”

he stops moving.

again.

just stares down at you like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“…you takin’ the piss?”

“no, i’m serious!” you wiggle beneath him. “my legs feel all burny. like pilates. and you’re sweating. so it’s basically cardio, right?”

simon leans in, mouth by your ear now, dragging his hips so slow and deep it makes your toes curl.

“it ain’t bloody pilates, sweetheart,” he growls. “but if you keep talkin’ like that, i’ll bend you like it is.”

you whimper. immediately shut up.

sort of.

“you’re soooo mean,” you pout, clinging to his arms. “i was just sayin’! and i forgot what i was gonna say next anyway but still!”

“no surprise there,” he mutters.

“—but i know it was really important.”

he groans.

loud.

like he’s in pain.

“fuckin’ hell. i swear your brain leaks out every time i fuck you.”

you beam at him.

“probably does.”

and he just kisses you, hard and messy, dragging your hips back into his lap.

“dumb little thing,” he whispers against your lips. “lucky you’re cute.”

[baelaria]

[baelaria]

to match my freak (to love me)

[baelaria]

they are the DEFINITION of matching each others freak

[baelaria]

Find a woman that stares at you like you're the prettiest demon she's ever seen in her life

[baelaria]

Need a cute boyfriend that's so nice and respectful, so kind, so "proper", says he'll never do anything remotely freaky, never felt the need to, so he says he wont bite wont go hard, wont even leave a single mark, until I have him in bed and all he can do is bite whatever he can, holding my hips ever so tightly, he can't help but leave bruises as his mind goes fuzzy with pleasurable ecstacy.

It isn't until after he wakes up the next day and sees the red marks all over my body that he realizes how screwed he is in this relationship.

[baelaria]

[baelaria]

[baelaria]

I'm going to fuck that nerd

[baelaria]

[baelaria]

[baelaria]