#ideal bedmate

[undercoveravenger]

Sleep Like the Dead

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Male!Reader

Requested: No

Summary: Everyone on the team thinks Ghost is the worst person to share a bed with. You don’t mind and Ghost finally gets a decent night’s sleep.

-----

No one ever wants to share a bed with Ghost on a mission. It happens every time, at every safe house, so he’s not surprised when Gaz and Soap call dibs on sharing one of the two double beds. They’re both pretty calm sleepers and won’t disturb each other’s rest so it makes sense for them to pair off. Price posts up in the battered recliner mumbling something about being “too old to share.” And that leaves Ghost with you, the 141’s newest addition. You haven’t been on the team long enough to know to find other sleeping arrangements.

You trail him easily into the other bedroom and strip down to your boxers, climbing under the covers without complaint at being stuck with him. He slowly settles beside you, just as tense as he’d been out on the field - adrenaline not quite fizzled out yet. You don’t seem to mind, eyes closing and breathing slowing basically as soon as your head hits the pillow and just like that Ghost is alone with his thoughts.

Despite himself, his mind echoes with the sound of Soap whinging about bruises he’d gotten from Ghost’s less-than-gentle “readjusting” and Gaz’s complaints of his snoring - “What, you running a chainsaw in there, Lieutenant?” “There a thunderstorm in your room last night, Ghost?” There’s a reason Price would rather go for a kip in some ratty old armchair than sleep anywhere near Ghost, even if he never voices why. He knows he’s not an ideal bed partner and he hates it. Hates that he’s exposing you to it - you, who’s never looked at him like he’s weird for keeping his mask on and who’s never seemed to be afraid of him, even the first time you’d met him. You, who’s seen some of the brutal things he’s had to do out on the field and never once judged him for it, who’s done plenty of nightmarish things yourself.

But this is the first negative trait he’s willingly exposed you to and he doesn’t want to see you try to duck him as a bedmate the same way the rest of the team does, especially when he’s starting to suspect that he feels more than camaraderie for you.

You move then, rolling onto your side and hooking an arm round his middle to tug him back against your chest. Ghost’s frozen against you, muscles tight and breath shallow, even as your heart beats steady and slow against his back. He settles slowly, breath evening out to match yours. He’s not used to being… cuddled, let alone being the little spoon, but it’s sort of nice to be held. Like you’ve got his back, even unconsciously. 

He shifts slightly, nudging himself back into your arms further and brings one hand up to curl around yours, settling your joined hands against his chest above his heart. 

Simon’s eyes slip closed somewhere between one breath and the next and he sinks into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in years.

-----

Everyone’s looking at him strangely when they all gather in the morning to prepare for evac and he’s not sure why. He can only take so long of Price’s concerned stare and Soap and Gaz whispering around furtive glances before he snaps.

“What,” he says, and that seems to be all the permission Soap needs to sidle closer, studying him intently. “Got somethin’ to say?” Ghost challenges, arms crossing over his chest. “Say it.”

Soap hesitates only a moment before he says anything, fingers tapping rapidly against his thigh like he’s nervous. “Did you, ah, did you sleep last night, LT? Like, at all?”

Ghost blinks. Blinks again. It’s not the weirdest question Soap’s ever asked him, not by a longshot, but it feels strangely pointed and he’s not sure why. “Slept fine. Why?”

Gaz cocks his head, dark eyes puzzled as they dart between Ghost and the door to the bedroom that he’d shared with you. “Did he?”

Ghost is saved from answering by you making your way out into the living room with the rest of them, go bag already packed and ready. You’re shifting your weight up onto the balls of your feet like you’re ready to take in a run, like you’re itching to move. Your eyes are bright, not a hint of sleeplessness to be seen about you.

“Maybe they tuckered each other out?” Soap suggests, eyebrows waggling suggestively as he looks between you and Ghost. “Surprised they were able to keep that quiet-”

“Shut it,” Ghost growls, trying to keep the teasing from letting you on to the feelings he’s finally admitted to himself. “We both slept fine. What’s all the fuss about?”

Price claps a hand over Soap’s mouth before he can make another raunchy comment, interjecting himself to help move the conversation along. “Just glad to hear that you were finally able to get a good night’s sleep, Ghost. Seemed to us you hadn’t slept well the last few ops.” His eyes slip to you and back quickly, lingering just enough that he knows that Price knows. “Seems whatever change you’ve made to your nightly routine might be a good one to keep up. Maybe try to make it a regular thing?”

Ghost wants to argue. To protest that sleeping in your arms wouldn’t have changed anything for him, especially not enough for his team to notice, but he knows Price is right. Knows that it’s having you with him that’s finally allowed him to rest. That you make him feel safe, as crazy as he feels admitting it. He’s not ready to really do anything about whatever it means quite yet, but he knows that he’ll be seeking you out to share a bed again on the next op. And maybe, if that goes well, inviting you back to his flat in Manchester while the team’s on leave to see if the effect you have on him goes both ways.

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

Continuing to work through my writing slump, have some saucy Earthspark Bumblebee x Reader headcanons as I do so! Let me know what bot to write for next and please like/reblog!

1. He's either a flustered wreck or the one turning you into a flustered wreck, there is no in-between.

When he's on the receiving end you'll find it only takes a little bit of dirty talk to have him blushing and stuttering, and if you hop on top he'll melt into a purring pile of bot for you to do with as you please, happily allowing you to take the lead. Gentle, teasing touches have a similar effect, and if you sneak a few in public it won't be long before he's doing everything he can to get the two of you somewhere private. Thick walls will be a must since he cannot keep quiet when you get him riled up. Expect lots of needy moans, and plenty of mewls, whimpers, and literal purring once he's taken care of. Snuggles will also be a must, ideally with a fair amount of petting on your part.

When he's the one doing the teasing, however, things are very different. He'll use his size to his advantage, effortlessly maneuvering you as if your tiny organic body is weightless in his grasp, making a point to show off how big and powerful he is by comparison. While doing so he'll flirt relentlessly, alternating between praising all your features he loves most and teasing you for getting so hot and bothered. His definition of "private" is also much looser, so don't be surprised if he settles for ducking down an alley or hiding behind a grove of trees if the two of you are out in the woods. He'll be just as loud, but you'll hear a lot more growling than groaning. Cuddles will still be mandatory in the afterglow, but he'll be the one doing all the petting.

2. He loves it when you grab his horns. They're only a bit more sensitive than the rest of him, but there's just something about having you holding on that really does it for him, especially if he's eating you out. It doesn't hurt that doing so typically puts the two of you at eye level, and if you meet his optics and squeeze at just the right moment you might get him to overload hands free.

3. He's a bit of a light sleeper, but he's quite ready to have some midnight fun if you happen to wake with him, which you probably will. His considerable size makes him rather hard to ignore as a bedmate. However, he's notably more open with his affections while sleepy, so you'll be woken by a cuddle happy bot who offers to make up for waking you with lots of oral. Few can say no to a midnight face ride from the Scout.

[risuola]

DO YOU WANT MY FINGERS? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU, who cannot stop twirling the god damn pen

You really needed to rest. You just wanted to sleep the day off, forget about the series of misfortunes and turn off your mind, but Satoru, your classmate just had to practise his pen spinning abilities.

cw: smut, Satoru and reader are students, fingering, Gojo is a menace, as usual, teasing, fingering, reader discretion is advised — 1,9k words

Can he stop?, you wondered, your mind racing like a sports car with the accelerator pushed to the floor, successfully rendering all of your efforts to relax fruitless. So many little things went wrong that day, so many failures that in themselves weren’t even that significant, but once accumulated, they created a tension in your body that you wished you could just sleep off. You hoped for the night to wipe away the concoction of not one, but two missed busses and a long run in the heat of the summer, the curse that was meant to be at most second grade but turned out to be first and exploding in purple goo, the fact that the room that ideally would have two beds, has just one and your infuriating colleague, now bedmate.

Gojo Satoru.

You had no idea what was his point in twirling that goddamn pen in between his fingers. Maybe he wanted to change his career path into becoming a circus artist or maybe he just wanted to annoy you to death – in both he had high chances to succeed. He clearly wanted to make you explode. That for sure was it, because the pen time after time fell from his hands, hitting the wooden floor. You lost count after the twenty sixth failed attempt of whatever the hell he was trying to accomplish, other than driving you completely insane.

Driven by the desire to break his neck, you flipped in the bed and took a quick glance of his form, fully ready and prepared to scold him, but then, your eyes landed on his hand and the voice got caught up inside your throat. Satoru has pretty hands, you always knew that, but somehow never paid them enough attention to notice how incredibly long his fingers are. You found yourself hypnotized by the way his lengthy digits worked all over the pen, twirling and twisting it between them. Skillfully bending and sliding against one another, using all of their slender length to make the movements effective.

Suddenly, you found yourself curious; your mind drifting into forbidden territories of rated thoughts, that you couldn’t, or maybe didn’t want to, push away. As you watched, hypnotized, how Satoru’s fingers were working their way around the pen, you wished to know if he’d be just as skilled using them in other ways? Would he be able to softly pour his magic onto your body, working them through your skin instead of the plastic? And how would they feel inside of you? For sure he’d reach into places you couldn’t yourself, for sure he’d-

“Y/n, my eyes are up here,” his voice snapped you out of your trance. “God, what got you so invested?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, exhaling deeply to ground yourself. “You’re annoying me with this pen, can you stop?”

“I’m trying to destress myself. I have to have my hands occupied- wait, were you looking at my hands?”

“No, Gojo.”

“Are you attracted to my hands?”

“How did you get annoyed and attracted mixed up, huh?”

“Don’t be shy now,” his face brightened with mischief as he grinned, wiggling his digits in the air. “Do you want my fingers?”

“God forbid you lay those on me,” you scoffed, trying to brush him off as you made an attempt to turn away from him, but he quickly rendered it fruitless by grabbing you by the wrist and pinning you down.

“Woops, I guess I just did,” he chuckled; one of his legs between your thighs as his body hovered above yours, making you wonder what the hell was happening. “Might as well go a little further.”

“I will knee you in the nuts if you don’t back off,” you threatened, but once again his chest, and whole body, shook with laughter.

“You can’t do that. Infinity, baby.”

Gojo and his goddamn infinity. A short tsk escaped your mouth, before he placed two of his fingers over them, brushing them ever-so-lightly along your upper lip, then lower and down the chin, painting a little s pattern with his, surprisingly soft, fingertips. His own lips never faltered from the menacing smirk, as his eyes focused on where he was outlining your features.

“So, tell me, where do you want them?” His voice now an octave lower went straight between your legs, you could feel yourself throbbing at the very thought of what he could do to you just by touching. “Here?” He peeled down your bottom lip just slightly, creating an opening for him to slip a fingertip into your mouth. “Nuh-ugh, don’t be mean,” he purred when you made an attempt to bite his digits off – the last signs of your dignity talking, before your body surrendered. “I assume it’s not here. So maybe… here?” With his finger now brushing just slightly over the swell of your breast, teasing the embarrassingly hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your sleeping shirt.

“Gojo-“ you tried to put some warning into your words, but he cut you off quickly.

“I’m not holding you, sweet thing. You have more than enough strength to push me away, we both know this.” He was right, and you hated it. Yes, he was above you, his thigh resting between yours, but other than that, he wasn’t exactly keeping you captive in his grip, because there was no grip whatsoever. Sending mental profanities at your own direction, you failed to notice his hand shifting downwards and you only realized it when your body jolted at the sudden pressure applied over your clothed clit. “Oh, it’s here where you want them, huh?”

To admit was way above your current state of self-respect, so you said nothing, trying to join your legs back together, to hide the wet patch that soaked through the soft, light-blue cotton, but to no avail. The more he stroked his fingers along the outlines of your folds, pressing little circles of tease into the swollen bud, the less control and clarity of mind you had.

“Use your words, will you?”

“G-gojo, please-“, you nearly whined.

“Yeah? Tell me, is that where you want my fingers?”

“Y-yes,” that was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever said, and you were certain that the consequences of it will haunt you for as long as you live, because Satoru was surely never gonna let you live that down, but at this particular moment, you couldn’t care less. You’ll be embarrassed later, now you needed to feel those sinful digits inside.

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your jaw. Satoru was full of content, watching you lose your composure piece by piece right before his eyes, and he tried to take mental picture of every stage you went through since he began his teasing torture. From the soft frown that made your brows crease in the middle and your pretty eyes narrowed, sending death stares; through denial – the looks pointed away from him, the delicate tension of every muscle and clenched teeth and the current one – the most adorable flush that spilled over your cheeks and nose, the slightly nervous chew on your lower lip and those same eyes now lost, confused and yet, full of want. What he’s used to see in you was your every day calm, perfect composure and lighthearted approach to life and now, as all of those began to break, taking down the façade of carelessness, Gojo felt the swell of his confidence and ego. And the twitch in his pants.

“There you go,” he nearly whispered, slipping effortlessly into your underwear and the sudden contact of his skin against your aching, throbbing clit made your entire body shiver with anticipation. Satoru shifted his body to your side, placing his own down to be more comfortable, now sure that you won’t push him away. “You’re so wet. So wet and it’s only because of my fingers?”

“S-satoru…”

The grasp you took around his forearm could probably break a bone, but Gojo felt nothing, too consumed by the sweet whimpers that were escaping your lips as he was stroking the letters of his name right into your clit, time after time making your thighs tremble with pleasure. You were so incredibly wet, so worked up that it surprised even you how easily he made you unfold.

You could feel his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, where he was nipping at slowly, murmuring soft praises interlaced with the filthiest of things that could sound so sexy only slipping over Satoru Gojo’s tongue. His skillful fingertips brushed a little lower, gathering your slick and teasing your entrance painfully. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, needy for what his hands have to offer and he was quick to provide. One of his long fingers slipped into you with ease, entering your warm walls and pushing a breathy whimper from your throat. Satoru reached so far, way further than you could ever even try to reach. And then the subtle burn from the stretch came, when the second finger followed; the heel of his palm pressed tightly to your clit. With the way he moved in and out, pushing and pulling at your nerves, curling his digits inside of you and pressing every oversensitive button along his way – all of it was driving you insane.

The stars were overflowing your vision, the glittering particles of pleasure dancing right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t even care about keeping yourself from breathing out his name. The heat searing at your core spread throughout your entire body, setting it alight with its sparks. You felt like a volcano was erupting inside of you, the hot lava now flowing through your veins instead of blood, pumped sharply with the deft movements of Satoru’s fingers.

A surge of pleasure electrocuted your system, seething tendrils of blissful lust followed every push and pull of his digits. Your thighs began to tremble, your walls were contracting rapidly, clenching around him. Your breath got caught inside your lungs and those stars before your eyes began dancing around, blinding you with white.

“Think you can take the third one?”, Gojo asked, his mouth right next to your ear before he bit onto the petal of it. He challenged you with the question but wasn’t expecting the answer for it. Something incoherent slipped through your lips, following with a moan when he added another dose of stretch to your throbbing pussy, filling you to the impossible levels with the third fingers that still, slipped in with ease. He was almost too much, it sent you overboard with the excitement that got you spiraling into the bliss, head first, full speed. Your entire body tensed, your hand clenched around his forearm, but he didn’t falter from the torturous pace he’s set. Orgasm began overtaking your body in waves of ecstasy that was rushing through you every time he moved.

Your entire form shook underneath his touch, your mind was a blurred out, hazy mess and you were getting lost, drowning in the waves of climax and as he curled his fingers once more, pressing the most sensitive spot inside your velvety walls with all of his might, the knot in your stomach snapped. His name began escaping your mouth unknowingly, breathlessly repeated like a prayer, feeding into his ego as you came all over his hand. The orgasm came with the intensity that shot you straight onto the cloud nine, overwhelming you completely. Your eyes closed shut, your breath was racing just as the heart in your chest.

Gojo slowed down, leading you through the high and eventually, he pulled his hand out.

“Ah, what a mess you made,” he teased, smearing the milky white residues between his soaked fingers. You could barely hear him, but you didn’t need to, to know that he’s gonna tease you for that forever.

[iamsherlocked-1998]

𝔽𝕆ℝ𝕄𝔸 𝔹𝕆ℕ𝕌𝕄 𝔽ℝ𝔸𝔾𝕀𝕃𝔼 𝔼𝕊𝕋.

SUMMARY: Beauty standards are difficult.

WORDS: 700

WARNING! ⚠️: SEXUALLY SUGESTIVE TOPICS. Male x Male. Body insecurity, Old Rome customs. Bisexuality.

Marcus Acacius was a formidable army general, known for his strategic brilliance and unwavering courage on the battlefield. Tall and imposing, he earned the respect of soldiers and struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. He had always considered himself a man of self-reliance and self-assurance, but lamented that time did not pass in vain.

His chest bore a scar that ran across the left pectoral, a vestige of a fierce battle that had nearly cost his life. To Marcus, the scar was a testament to his survival and resilience in the face of adversity. But to others, it was a mark of imperfection, a deviation from the flawless body that was idolized in Roman culture.

That was nothing new, beneath the armor and the aura of dominance, Marcus carried a burden that few knew about: The scarcely healed wounds that witnessed the battles won were no longer an honor but a cargo, his joints were heavier with age, but there was a specific physical characteristic that completely set him apart from the ideal of Roman beauty dictated by society's standards. What he was proud of, what made him a man, did not seem the same. His intimate area was…too big, it drew too much attention, he had the feeling that because of it was considered a barbarian or an animal that could attack or destroy with a stab. Certain spheres of pleasure and sex were eclipsed by the discomfort that would accompany the act.

Despite his external confidence and strength, after all his previous bedmates seemed more than satisfied, Marcus could not escape the constant whispers and glances of those who judged him based on his appearance. What had once been of no importance due to his status, when he was relegated to a simple gladiator everything took on a different color. People did not look at him in the same way nor did they have any qualms about speaking, something that went away with his freedom.

Men gave him malicious glances, their words loaded with veiled insults and barely concealed mockery. But between the jokes and grimaces, Marcus found comfort in the surprising admiration that came from an unexpected source.

Every time Marcus visited the hot springs to recover after long campaigns, he could not help but notice the way women and even some young and inexperienced men would sneak glances at him. Their eyes would linger subtly below his waist, where dark, curly hair gave way to something else, but instead of disdain, Marcus saw a different kind of gaze: one filled with curiosity, admiration, and even a hint of attraction.

Confirmation came from someone who had once been a soldier in his service, many years and less charged confrontations behind him that he showed as a reward when he ride the general's cock in the new intimacy passed to the bedroom, his moans could have alerted the gods themselves as his straight golden hair moved uncontrollably, with rosy cheeks and hands resting on the generous shoulders of his older lover, emboldened by the ecstasy of being reached in all the right places.

In the whispers of the women and the shy smiles of the boys, Marcus found a sense of acceptance and appreciation that transcended the superficial standards imposed by society. Their genuine interest reminded Marcus that true beauty did not lie in perfect features, but in what you could do with them, the strength of character and the resilience of the spirit.

And so, Marcus Acacius, the Roman army general with a singular characteristic, learned to accept his initially imperfections and to wear his differences as a badge of honor. Because in the eyes of those who saw him as he was, not defined by his appearance, but by the courage and valor that burned within him, a flame that nothing could extinguish. And as more than just his bearing stood tall and unwavering in the hot springs, basking in the warmth of acceptance and admiration, Marcus knew that true beauty lay not in conformity to society's standards, but in the authenticity of being unapologetically yourself.

NOTE: The story is based in this post, the comments are gold 🤗💕

[emeritusemeritus]

Convince me {Dr Martin ‘Papa’ Brenner}

Title: Convince Me.

Pairing: Dr Martin Brenner(Papa)x Reader.

Summary: An early night doesn’t always mean more sleep.

Warnings: SMUT. Absolute filth, I’m probably going to hell for this. Graphic sex, PIV, sexual references, fingering, oral (f receiving). Teasing. Definite Dom&Sub dynamics. Implied Age gap? Soft!Dom. Minor swearing but that’s really not the issue here. She calls him Papa. Hidden relationship. Reader is 18+ Minors DNI. Older man younger woman dynamic. Forbidden fruit, forbidden love. Brenner is the real villain of Stranger Things.

Word count: 5k of pure smut.

Song for writing: The loneliest by Måneskin.

Side note: This was written purely on my very graphic sex dream about Dr Brenner last night so blame my mind for this one. Reader is implied to be an Orderly at the Lab or even staff- NOT a test subject and is firmly 18+.

The room around you is silent, dark and still. Perfectly temperate, as if scientifically calculated to adjust to your core body temperature to allow for perfect quality sleep. There's not a single sound or disruption from the outside world inside the insulated room. There's layers of necessary protection upon the room, making you feel as if you were on a secluded island somewhere, isolated from the rest of society and away from prying ears and minds.

Still, despite the more than ideal conditions, sleep alludes you.

It's like the four walls around you, the insulation and the other layers of protection who didn't quite understand were acting as a proverbial blockade from reality. All conscious thought and expectations of the day were laid aside the moment you stepped in this room, but your mind wasn't ready to give up those thoughts for today. Within the calm semi-darkness, your thoughts were unable to calm themselves, desperately trying to fill the void of silence and keep you awake.

The pressure to sleep in the perfect room was too much, the expectation of you floating away into your dreams almost felt like a demand you were pathologically avoiding. Your mind naturally began wandering to that one singular topic that was only ever safe to think of here, to explore right here in this bed and the longer you laid there feigning sleep, it became all you could think of.

You were naked from the waist up, wearing only your panties underneath the soft covers whilst your bedmate wore only a pair of plaid pyjama pants. That in itself was not uncommon, but on this night more than all it only added to your inner torment.

You didn't feel tired in the slightest, your body not shutting off and actually almost buzzing, fuelled by the proximity to the person beside you. You're actively aware of his presence, of his stature in the bed and his singular piece of clothing. You can feel his steady breath on the nape of your neck as he lies behind you, so close to spooning you but still so distant that it feels torturous.

His breath is warm against your skin, though not anywhere near at hot as you feel and the sensation alone is enough to harden your nipples almost painfully under the covers.

"Papa, I can't sleep."'

Your voice is quiet, hardly more than a whisper but it's all that is needed in the silent room. It's as if speaking loudly will break the enchantment upon the room, ruining the peace. Your body moves into his, subtly seeking out his crotch with the curve of your bum as you stretch, needing to feel him closer to you.

He's holding you sweetly, large hand placed on your naked waist respectfully, making you feel safe and secure whilst not taking advantage. Only, you desperately want him to take advantage. You want him to touch you everywhere, want to feel his hands all over your body in the most sinful way possible, fuck respectful.

"It is a little early," he says, his voice deep and gruff, like he'd been on the verge of sleep himself, despite his words of affirmation.

Your backside finds his crotch with a singular inconspicuous shift of your hips, though you know that nothing is inconspicuous to him. He always knew exactly what you were doing, but feigned ignorance to protect your pride. He'd have sensed the shift in you already, the evidence of your arousal- the 'tells' of you; the slight catching of your breath, the way your hips would be inadvertently moving to try and relieve some of the pressure, though you'd try to conceal it.

"I don't want to sleep."

Your tone if different now but you can't exactly place it. Defiant? Desperate? Touching on whiny?

"Ahh then that is a different matter all together," he replies, sounding much more awake now.

Though his words may seem clinical in their presentation, they're ladened with an undertone of indulgence and amusement. He understands without question everything you are trying to say, of course he understands.

His hand is subtly gripping your waist a little tighter and you had already detected his crotch becoming harder against your bum. His own 'tells' that he was also disinterested in sleep.

His big hand shifts down until it's covering your breast, the warmth of his palm so electric against your hardened nipple and supple flesh. His slightly calloused hand against your softness. You gasp at the sensation as he squeezes hard on your breast, almost painfully so but never crossing the boundary into actual pain. It's electrifying.

You knew he'd be smirking against your hair at hearing your little slip up, the gasp you so desperately couldn't keep in. His hand tightens against your breast again, thumb not so delicately running over your nipple, eliciting another hiss of pleasure as your hips begin to roll against his indisputable hardness. There's a slight movement behind you and you can suddenly feel his lips on the skin of your neck, a gentle and tender kiss pressed to the sensitive skin below your ear. Your core aches with the need for more but you won't say it, atleast not yet.

You'd let him take control as usual, to let him dominate the situation in the way that only your papa could. He wouldn't leave you hanging nor waiting for long, he couldn't. Spending days on end, all the waking hours at the lab pretending to notice your existence more than any other orderly, pretending that you weren't the centre of his world. Whatever secret shame he carried for keeping your relationship hidden away only fuelled his desire to please you right here and now in the safety of his rooms, denying you no longer.

His hand lowers, gliding against your smooth skin unobstructed, his fingertips catching over your curves. His movements are hidden beneath the cover of the blanket, the concealment only adding to the arousal. His nimble fingers find the waistband of your panties and pause, toying with the material to tease you. His fingers slip over the material, another micro act of teasing that has you stifling a moan of displeasure, knowing that would get you nowhere. His deft fingers stroke you through the material, your outer lips bulging against the fabric to try and find relief, undoubtedly soaking the material. His touch is feather light and almost tickling as he drags his fingers across your anatomy, carefully and purposely avoiding the place you need him the most. You refuse to beg and fight the urge to squirm in his hold, allowing him to take his time and tease you, knowing he'll make it right in the end. Eventually his fingers begin to move slightly inwards, no longer just stroking your outer lips through the wet material of your panties. Soon, he's slipping his fingers towards your crease, hovering over your aching hole as his fingers drag up and down your slit, getting ever closer to your throbbing clit.

You won't beg.

But then he kisses your shoulder and pulls away whilst you're left reeling and devastated. He'd never left you like this, would never. Your doe-eyes follow his movements as he pulls away, filled with pathetic desperation. He moves to sit back against the pillows, his back straight against the headboard. You try to resist but you can't help but look at his bulging pyjama shorts, a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body at the obvious sign of his arousal.

He sends you a smirk that calms your nerves immediately, his hands reaching out for you.

"Sit yourself here my love," he coos, inviting you in to his lap. He manhandles you in the way only he could, positioning your willing body with ease. You're facing away from him, sat in his lap as his arms encircle you, his fingers ghosting over your skin until he reaches your breasts once more, now able to use both of his hands. His rigid cock is positioned just beneath your rear, the length pressed tightly between you as it presses against your lower back.

Each breasts is adored by his hands, the tight squeezing from before still pulling the same erotic gasps from you. His fingers and thumbs pinch at your sensitive nipples and you cry out, feeling the sensation in not only your chest but within your gushing core as well. You know he's smirking to himself, ever prideful, but you pay no mind. His fingers trace your skin, leaving your breasts to drop and bounce as he moves to caress your thighs.

With a forceful hand, he pulls your knees apart and uses his feet to spread your legs open wide, baring you completely. You notice the slight strain of his neck as he shifts to peer down your body, seeing your semi-naked form, with only your panties offering a form of modesty. You're certain that you'll leave a wet patch behind once you move, your wetness pouring out now in anticipation of what was coming.

"So beautiful," he murmurs gently in your ear, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear and the delicate skin just below. You have to hold back a shiver at hearing his voice to clearly, the slight rasp and the deep baritone reverberating through you.

You watch with rapt attention as his fingers slip down to the edges of your panties, teasing, always teasing.

Then, he's dragging his finger up the centre of you, pressing his digit in just enough that you can feel how much wetness is catching on the material. You can't help but raise your hips at the sudden contact, the material of your sopping undergarments rubbing deliciously against the swollen nub.

"So very wet," he acknowledges, the praise tumbling from his lips. In the back of your mind you acknowledge that it's he who deserves the praise, your body simply responding to his skilful hands and erotic voice, but you say nothing.

His finger moves away only by a few inches and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation of his next move. Suddenly, his index finger lands a delicate but intense blow upon your swollen clit, a gentle tap that has you keening in his hold. You cry out a moan of sublime pleasure at the contact. Even through the material it feels like you've been electrocuted on the most wonderful way. You can hear his deep chuckle in your ear, only adding to the sensation, before his finger taps your clit several more times in rapid succession. Your hands seek him out instinctively, fingers digging into his thighs through the soft cotton trousers as you struggle in his hold at the obscene pleasure.

You turn your head in his hold, seeking his lips desperately. He doesn't deny you in the slightest, almost as if he had been already anticipating your need. Your lips crash onto his, his soft lips chasing yours eagerly, lips caressing one another in the most imperfect way. His finger slowly circles your clit through the fabric as he kisses you, never breaking contact despite your feverish lips.

He pulls away from your lips, smirking as he sees your flushed face, finding you breathless.

"Take your panties off," he commands, eyes raking over your face in an act of dominance that you can't deny.

You want to scramble, to remove the panties as quick as humanly possible but you force yourself to have at least some dignity and restraint. You lean down and begin to pull the underwear down your legs before having a flash of inspiration. You fight to hide your smirk as you climb to your knees, sensing his questioning gaze at your sudden brazen and defiant behaviour. You bend forward onto all fours, giving him a perfect view of your rear end and begin to pull your panties down your legs using your nom-weight bearing arm. Then slip across the curve of your rear and down onto your thighs, giving him a completely explicit view of your dripping core as you continue to slide them the rest of the way down your legs.

Just as you slip the sopping panties off your last ankle, you feel the rush of movement behind you. You're not sure what you're expecting, perhaps a forceful spank or being pulled up by your hair so that you were sitting, forced into a well deserved punishment. What you didn't expect was his strong hands reaching out for your hips in a forceful grasp, his still concealed cock pressed dangerously close to your opening with the angle. Just one pull of his pyjamas and he'd be inside you, hardly more than 3 seconds.

"Naughty girl," he spits. His left hand wandering onto your left buttock and giving it a forceful squeeze whilst his right hand slips off your hip entirely.

"Trying to tempt me hmm?" He asks, knowing you couldn't answer him as much as you desperately want to.

"Did anything give you the impression I was not already hellishly tempted?"

His right hand slips across your hip and down to your now completely unobstructed pussy, his touch so deliciously erotic now it's simply skin upon skin. You jump in his grasp as his finger unexpectedly breaches your aching hole with perfectly practiced precision.

"Did anything I have done give you even the slightest inclination that wasn't already solely focused on this perfect little cunt? That I wasn't already aching to be inside you, hmm?" His finger dances around your opening before piercing through and immediately hooking in the most delicious way. You cry out in ecstasy at finally feeling him where you so desperately needed him. He adds another finger almost instantly, groaning as he feels your walls stretch to accommodate him, knowing how big of a stretch you'll make for his cock, all in due time.

"Perhaps you need reminding?" He says, not willing to wait for a fumbled answer from you. His left hand slips from the bruising grip he has on your hip and within seconds you are both immensely rewarded and tormented.

The blazing hot skin of his bare cock is pressed against your dripping cunt, pressed tightly against your seam as he guides the impressive length through your sopping folds. You cry out further when his tip catches on your swollen clit, his hand guiding him back and forth through your delicate folds as he toys with you.

"All for you," he murmurs, pressing himself against your back as he readjusts himself to close your legs slightly with his knees. He pulls you up so your back is pressed tightly to his front, both of you now on your knees, his right hand slipping naturally back to your breasts. He thrusts between your legs, cock poking through your lubricated folds at a perfect angle, almost torturously well. It's a simple rock of his hips, a slow and precise rhythm that drives you wild. It's so him, so defined and precise, and it drives you completely out of your mind.

His hand raises from toying with your sensitive breasts to grip at your jaw, turning your head so that you are looking at him. His eyes wash over your flush cheeks and lush filled eyes before he claims your lips with his. It's sinfully dirty, lips and tongues meeting as his cock works over your clit and through your folds as you cling to him in anyway you can. You're panting, chest heaving and desperate for air but you will not pull away from him, more desperate for him than you are for oxygen. His other hand slips onto your hip again whilst the other remains on the delicate column of your throat.

"Are you convinced yet? He asks against your lips, a smirk blooming as he feels you chase his mouth. His needy little thing so desperate for him that you're completely putty in his hands. For a moment, you have completely forgotten what he's talking about, the conversation from earlier having completely escaped you thanks to his ministrations.

"No."

"No?"

His movement stills for a moment as he takes in your answer, considering your reply. His eyes scan your face once again from the awkward angle, his hand still holding your throat, thumb stroking your jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach down for his hand and pull it away from your throat and guide it upwards, knowing that he wouldn't take his eyes off of you once. You raise his hand to your lips and suck his thumb into your mouth, keeping your eyes fixed on his. You lick around the tip of his thumb before giving it a hard suck, your cheeks hollowed and eyes giving your most sultry look. You relish in the way his brow furrows, eyes darkening as he watches intently, lips parting into a little 'o' at your display. You press a sweet kiss to the top of his thumb as you pull away with a pop.

"Convince me," you say breathlessly, feeling suddenly emboldened to challenge him even further.

It takes a moment for him to recover from your actions, his brain temporarily short circuited from his sweet little girl being so devilishly erotic.

You barely have time to put your arms out to catch yourself as he manoeuvres you harshly onto the bed, almost tackling you it's so forceful. You're lay on your front and then spun around quickly by his strong arms until you're laid in front of him on complete display, bare for his view. He's still kneeling before you, his pyjama bottoms still on up to his mid-thighs with only his cock and the very tops of his full balls visible. In this position, you're completely at his mercy and happy to be.

You watch as his eyes shamelessly inspect your body, not missing an inch of skin as his tongue pokes out to lick his lips like a predator stalking his prey. His cock jumps slightly and you feel yourself sucking a breath in, praying he'll finally give you want you want. His eyes linger on your breasts, watching as your heaving chest moves your tits up and down in a mesmerising rhythm. He finally allows himself to look at your pussy, legs spread wide to accommodate his hungry stare as he takes his time to memorise your dripping folds.

Your pussy clenches at the uncomfortable inspection, feeling bare and vulnerable under his gaze. It's the last straw for him, seeing your cunt clench around nothing and within moments his lips are sucking into the sensitive flesh of your pussy. His tongue is everywhere, licking around your clit, piercing your aching hole and tracing the shape of your entire cunt. You squeal at the sudden pleasure, overwhelmed as his tongue laps up your abundance of slick. His lips wrap around your clit and he gives a succession of gentle sucks which has you keening off the bed, your hand instinctively wrapping into his hair as you fight not to cum almost immediately. He's a master with his mouth, hitting every single spot as you cry out and keen below him.

He pulls away and sits up onto his knees once again without warning and throws off his pyjamas into the nether around you. His cock hangs heavy and proudly between his legs, outstretched and hard just for you. He leans forward, capturing your willing lips in another kiss, much more gentle and loving this time then before. His lips taste of you and it's almost embarrassing how painfully arousing it is to taste yourself on him. You swipe at his lips with your tongue and he growls, sensing what you were doing to get more of your own taste.

He sinks into you slowly, torturously slowly. His eyes never leave your pussy as the bulbous tip of his cock disappears into your hole. You're surprisingly silent, head thrown back onto the bed with your face scrunched up at the delicious stretch you fell. He's barely two inches in with many more to give and you're already breathless. You feel his hand on your hip and it draws your attention back to him, eyes opening to look into his own as you realised he had stopped moving inside you, cock only barely breaching you.

"I said are you alright sweet one?"

You nod carelessly, waiting for him to give you more.

"Words only my sweet girl, otherwise I stop right now."

"Yes, Papa please, please!"

You said you wouldn't beg, but here you are. He doesn't smirk nor snort in amusement as you expected at your pathetic state, but instead he gives you a gentle smile of encouragement.

"I want you to take me deeper, can you do that my love?" His melodic voice has you clenching around him and he hisses at the feeling, brows knitting together faintly.

"Yes papa, everything, give me everything," you whimper, feeling as though you were losing yourself to the sensations, all sense of rational thinking abandoning you.

He throws your legs over his shoulders sinks in again, much more easily this time thanks to your muscles working hard to accommodate him. He groans as he bottoms out inside of you, his balls pressed tightly to you. You're speechless, breathless, unable to do anything except reach out for him and take his length like he'd asked you to. His thrusting resumes, harder now than it had been before and you can't help but cry out each time he hits the spots inside of you that make you see stars. He's right at the end of you, pounding the spot only he had ever reached, marking his territory with every thrust.

"Turn over my love," he coos, pulling out of your warmth. You watch as his cock emerges from your heat covered in your wetness.

You do as he says and roll onto your front, your arms sprawled out in front of you as you keep your hips up for him like you knew he'd like. This is your absolute favourite position, as he knew, the one that made you cry out for him louder than any other. He kisses up your back as he shifts behind you, aligning himself with your hips.

The groan that falls from your lips as he sinks inside in this position echoes through the room. It's guttural and primal, a true display of unadulterated pleasure. You hear a slight chuckle behind you, a sound of prideful amusement and delight as his large hands grab hold of your hips. You clench around him purposefully, adoring the hiss that escapes him as your walls tighten further around his thickness. You begin to roll your hips in time with his thrusts, meeting him halfway to increase the force of his thrusts. He groans deeply, a manly, guttural groan that refuels your desire. You feel him shift and snake his right arm around you, forcing you to widen your stand ever so slightly.

Another cry of his name echoes around the room as his skilled fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub exactly how you like. Your hips stutter trying to keep up and suddenly his other hand tightens on your hip until you can't move your pelvis.

"Just feel my sweet girl, let papa make you cum."

His ministrations alone were enough to send you tumbling towards your end even before his words and his voice surrounded you. You feel like you're on fire, hurtling towards your orgasm as his fingers play you expertly and his cock completely fills your warmth. You feel your walls twitching and you know he can feel it too, the impending release so close now. He pulls his fingers away from your clit only for a second, placing them at the crest of your lips until you open up for him. His fingers taste of you, of you both mixed together and you comply with his unspoken demand by taking his two fingers deep into your mouth and covering them with spit. His fingers slip out of your mouth and back down to your clit to work you over anew, freshly lubricated.

It takes mere seconds before you are crumbling before him, calling out his name like a prayer and desperately scrambling to hold on to him like you're about to float away without an anchor. He fucks you right through your orgasm, fingers working you right until the exact moment you became over sensitive when he pulled away. You feel yourself gush over his cock, the natural consequence of being so aroused for so long. You only begin to register his own groans as you float back down to earth, your walls slowly releasing his cock from its tight clutches.

"Perfect, you are absolutely perfect," he pants, sounding breathless as he touched your shoulder sweetly.

"Papa, I- I want to make you cum," you say, suddenly feeling shy again, despite his cock still being inside you.

"By all means sweet girl," he says, clearly with a grin in his voice. You shift your hips and he begins to slip out of you. There's a brief pause when everything stops and you don't know how to proceed. What did he expect? What did he want? Should you wait for him to take control.

"Ride me, just how we practised," he says encouragingly, reaching for your hand. If he senses your sudden wave of anxiety, he doesn't mention it and simply guides you.

He leans back against the pillows and pulls you gently along with him, his other hand grasping hold of his still very erect cock ready for you to sink down on. His eyes cover your body once more as you straddle him, testing the waters of your position. His cock slips between your folds as his hand slips away and you gasp as his tip rests against your overstimulated clit. But it still feels good, very good. You roll your hips until your pussy is rubbing against the sensitive underside of his cock and you watch as his head slips back onto the pillows, hands fighting not to grip ahold of your hips and drop you down onto him.

It feels so good that you're distracted for a few moments as you ride him unconventionally until you realise how empty you feel without him inside of you. You raise yourself slightly and grab hold of his cock, placing it at your entrance and sinking down. He groans loudly, hands no longer able to resist sinking into your flesh as your own hands rest upon his chest. You raise your hips tentatively before rolling them back down, feeling fuller than ever like this. You repeat the action, more confidently until you're bucking hard on him, riding him with vigour.

His hands wander across your body, focusing mostly on your bouncing breasts and then your hips as he holds but never controls your movements. You can feel another climax building, though it's different this time, seemingly coming from deep within you.

"Papa! Papa!" You chant as you ride him with everything you have, once again cresting on the wave of your orgasm.

You watch as he fights to hold back his orgasm, to hold it off for as long as possible until he can't hold it any longer. His breath catches and his moans deepen, his bruising grip growing increasingly tighter. Suddenly, he hurls himself up and clings to you, forcing you to slot exactly into place on his cock whilst he kisses you with a passion unlike any other. You can feel his cock twitching and bulging within you and with only a few more bounces, he's filling you completely. He roars as his orgasm overtakes him, his body curling around yours as your own climax peaks.

You let out a series of guttural moans as you cum once more, the feeling of his hot seed filling you to the brim much too erotic to ignore.

He helps you off of him once you return to reality, the second orgasm much stronger than the first. He helps you climb onto the bed beside him and covers you with the sheet as he pulls you into his chest, just like he knows you need.

He loved you like this the most.

The messy hair, the slightly swollen and parted lips, the rapid rising and falling of your chest as you struggle to calm your breathing.

He's a prideful man, but no man was perfect. No amount of career success or achievement, the true test subject he'd been seeking all these years, could ever compare to the pride that radiated through his body at seeing you so thoroughly satisfied that you were rendered silent and breathless. The involuntary smile of contentment, the curling of your limbs around his own flushed body to seek him out mere moments after your bliss were enough to fill him with the most dangerous pride.

He loved you.

He couldn't love you.

His feelings for you, your very presence threatened everything he had built and worked for but yet he couldn't let go. Couldn't deny himself this after all he'd sacrificed in his life. He hadn't expected to find you, hadn't anticipated ever having these feelings for another person. I'm the back of his mind, he knew you would be his biggest regret, his Achilles heel, his inevitable downfall. One day it will all tumble down around him, but for now he simply enjoys you whilst he can.

[apomaro-mellow]

Guitar!Steve 2

In the early hours of the morning, Eddie was sure he was still in a dream. What other explanation was there for the crazy hot dude in his bed? Then the other man made a sound and turned around and the memories of the previous night came back to him.

Eddie immediately scampered out of bed, stumbling a bit and grabbed his pants. He pulled out the smooth, black wishing stone. He pumped his fist, not believing his luck right now when his bedmate made another waking sound and his eyes fluttered open.

"What are you doing up?", Sweetheart asked.

And Eddie didn't really have a good answer with for that but he stammered through the attempt anyway. His Sweetheart just gave him a sleepy smile and patted the empty space next to him.

"Come back to bed~"

Eddie practically pounced right onto him. He was only human. But his Sweetheart, strong and solid, only let out a slight 'oof' before wrapping his arms around him. He kissed Eddie's cheek, then his chin, then kept going lower.

"Feeling affectionate?"

"I know you don't like early mornings."

Eddie hummed as his hands stroked up and down the other man's sides, just feeling but still not fully believing. Then Sweetheart started kissing down his neck and Eddie felt himself drowning deeper and deeper into him when someone pounded on the trailer door.

"Eddie!"

"Shit!", Eddie hissed, very reluctantly pulling away from his lover. Another voice called his name and that confirmed it. His friends were at the door. Probably looking for him. Because he definitely told Crash he would call him back and then he...didn't.

Eddie looked to Sweetheart, lying in the bed, looking confused but also extremely fuckable and why had he moved away from him again?

"Dude!"

"Eddie!"

"We're coming in!"

"Shitshitshit!"

Eddie resumed what he was doing, which was putting on pants. In his haste he just picked up the jeans he wore last night and slipped them on. Going commando in his jeans wasn't ideal, but it was all he had time for before Jeff, Crash, and Gareth were barging into the trailer.

Eddie came out of his room to meet them and they froze just inside the door to the trailer.

"Uh, hey?"

"You just get up man?", Gareth asked.

"Where's the stone?", Crash demanded to know.

Jeff was looking at the ceiling. "Please zip up your fly."

Eddie looked down and saw his bush peeking out from his pants. "Didn't know you were such a prude Jeffy." He watched his hairs as he zipped up.

"Why didn't you call back last night? What happened?", Crash asked.

"I uh, got a little distracted..." Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets while figuring out exactly how to break the news to them. He was saved by that by the sound of Sweetheart moving on his creaky mattress and calling out his name like it was a siren song.

Eddie turned, and the other boys leaned over and craned their necks to look through Eddie's ajar door.

"Ohhh", Jeff nodded.

Gareth looked like he bit a lemon. "Eddie? Seriously? You get laid and forget to call back?"

"Give him a break", Jeff said.

"Can we just-!", Eddie held up his hands. "Wait here!" He left the dissonant voices in the living room while going to check in on Sweetheart.

After explaining who was here and getting him into some clothes, and putting on a shirt for himself, the two of the rejoined the group at large. The others looked confused as to why Eddie was presenting the guy instead of kicking him out.

Eddie put on a t-shirt, still going commando. Sweetheart had put on a pair of his boxers, which were a little snug on him and a tank top. It fit but only because it was a bit big on Eddie in the first place.

"Alright, Sweetheart, these are the boys, Crash, Gareth, and Jeff. Boys, this is my uhhh guitar."

Crash's hands went to his forehead and he pushed his hair back. Jeff's eyes were bugging out and Gareth was looking back and forth between the two of them.

After a cacophony of disbelief and better explanations, Eddie sat down on his couch with a weary sigh. He barely gave a reaction when Sweetheart sat in his lap, he just put a hand on his hip.

It didn't seem to matter to either of them that there was more than enough room on the couch for them both. Jeff couldn’t take his eyes off the guy.

“Okay, so this is your guitar.”

“Sweetheart”, Eddie said. It didn't seem right to just refer to him as an instrument anymore.

“Yeah, okay, but weeeee can’t call him that”, Jeff said, swinging an arm to the others.

“Yeah, he needs another name. A human name”, Gareth clarified.

“At least while he’s here”, Crash agreed.

Eddie didn’t really like the implication there, that Sweetheart wouldn't always be around, but he conceded that he also didn’t like the idea of anyone else using the pet name. He needed a name that wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows.

"What do you think, Sweetheart?"

"I like what you call me", he whispered only to him, twirling a curly lock around his finger.

"Yeah, but do you want anyone else calling you that?", Eddie asked in an equally low voice.

They kept talking in low whispers, in their own little world. Pretty much ignoring the other people in the trailer.

"Do you guys need a room?", Jeff asked.

"Well we DID have one before you broke into my home", Eddie pointed out.

"Can we just figure out what to do about this?", Gareth asked, looking like he was about to collapse.

They spent about ten minutes deciding on what to call this man and eventually landed on the name 'Steve'. Eddie's brows rose at that but even he had to admit there was something oddly fitting about it. His Sweetheart had looked like a killing machine in guitar-form, but was capable of tender, mellow notes.

Now as a human he was just as capable of multitudes. So he was here, he had a name, now Eddie needed to find out how to make his stay permanent.

Part 4 coming soon

[sketchfanda]

Sketch-Verse Lore and Trivia

The following you're about to read is bits and pieces of detail and information such as a few more additional alternate versions of Chloe Sinclair in regards and relation to her Demon Queen self. As well as the odd fact or knowledge in relation to Sketch-Hellaverse (A Little Moxxie Love), Sketchverse MHA and DB (Kirishima's Mystique and Chestnutstud across the Multiverse) and other individuals and universe of interest according to the maniac typing this.

Demon Queen Chloe Alternates of interest, continued

A version of Chloe in the place of one Megumi Amano in the old school hentai universe Urotsukidouji or The Overfiend. A grim, violent and perverse universe to say the least with a history and lore seemingly convoluted as it went on, in the case of this alternate howeever her universe is the furthest thing from it, for there is no Choujin. Some say he's gone into hiding as have many Jujinkai (beastfolk) and Makai (demons) alike in fear of this insatiable diva's libido for it's said her orgasms alone pack the force of a white Phosphorus bomb. Some say she's on the hunt, prowling and seeking the ideal partner for the fuck of a lifetime and Heaven help the man or men capable of doing the impossible and actually satisfying her....

A version of Chloe where she's an exotic Arabian princess who certainly like any common Chloe Sinclair variant is none too shy about indulging in sating her limitless libido. Men and women alike esp when they appeal to her exotic tastes are an absolute must for her and you can only imagine her own persons grand harem plan soon as she takes the throne. Rumours abound she's looking to find herself a genie's lamp to make her wishes a reality. Heaven help us all should that ever come to pass.......

At best this variant could either be a breed of Hellhound or a version of Chloe that'd been naturally born with lycantropy but one thing is plenty clear. That one should never be out and about on a full moon night because chances are this she-wolf will be out on the prowl looking for a new bedmate. And yes given this is Chloe we're talking about, that applies to men and women alike and her pack is ever growing and expanding. Those she bites and infects with lycantropy are usually her most treasured, personal favourite lovers....

A rare case of a human version of Chloe Sinclair along with many in her employee and entourage but by no means any less a feisty, horny little minx. Whose lust for life and and adventure are made able by her vast wealth and spare time, all often made to seek out the best and brightest minds from having their work fall into the wrong hands. Granted she will admit, hers are the very same wrong hands of which she speaks but don't over think on that. You can't even begin to comprehend her sexual preferences.....

This particular arachnid equivalent to a centaur is something of an unknown variable, aside from having the usual libido that is par the course for most Chloes. Much like the werewolf version, she's notable for being out on the prowl when it comes to seeking new lovers and bedmates, often keeping her favourites wrapped and bound up in her webbing. As it so happens, she makes quite a fortune marketing and selling her spider-silk as a material for the fasion industry. It's said to very quite heavenly on the skin......

A version of Chloe that exists within a different version of the Star Wars universe and yes, she's of very high rank among the business and political world. In such ways that the rebel alliance, the new republic and the empire alike go out of their way to avoid her because dear god this woman is a beast!! Some say she has plans for what's known as Order 69, something that would tempt even the msot chaste and devout Jedi. She's just that thirsty......

Moxxie Love: Linda, aka She-Venom of Hell

Linda Stamboli in life had been your atypical mafia princess of sorts, not exactly ever directly involved in her family's dirty business but not neutral about enjoying the easy life and luxury it provided yet at heart, she was a romantic who'd always dreamt of her own personal fairy tale right down to a prince charming to come into her life and sweep her off of feet to a happily ever after of romance and passion. But life and reality weren't as hopeful and idealistic as circumstances saw her story on Earth end with her and her father dead and winding up in Hell and yet it seemed fate smiled upon her when she felt love at first sight for Moxxie, who to her was everything she wanted in her ideal man, her prince charming and more so when he'd taken out the slimeball who'd killed her in the first place. Sure he was married and yet she couldn't help but have love and lust for him in her heart in equal measure but never felt like she could ever make any sort of move to express it to him until by chance she came upon...something or someone quite unique. It's unknown who or what exactly this, symbiote is or where it exactly it came from as its overall nature and form wouldn't be out of place in Hell or Limbo and yet it's entirely otherworldly all the same.

But one thing is clear that since bonding with this lifeform, Linda had come to receive a massive boost in speed, strength and a range of abilities that on par with her sinner form's spider-like qualities and nature. As well as enhancing and increasing the sinner's already distinct sense and range of emotions but particularly and especially her lust, giving her the drive and passion to finally step up and sate her desires for her prince charming. Outside of the occasional somnophilia bootycall, she has yet to intimately acquaint herself with Moxxie directly on a more personal level but with her newfound abilities, she has taken to being his personal infernal guardian angel of sorts, always keeping an eye out for him and his, including any and all women who share the same desire and affection for the little imp. Leading to the Pride ring to run wild with rumors of its own personal superhero, known only to some by the name, Venom, as coming upon her with her wrath on you is like getting a lethal dose of poison.

Overall Linda has little to no interest in wanting to become an overlord even if being Venom gives her an edge over some, all that concernrs her are the well being and safety of her imp prince charming and his lady loves. But should any exorcists get any bright ideas about wanting to go for more than just the usual sinners to off during the annual purge? Adam himself would be better off trying to pray to God for mercy because she will not fucking hesitate. On another note, she's found that her daily dosage intake of chocolate has increased since bonding with the symbiote, that damn slime suit can't seem to get enough of the stuff, something about how it's like eating brains......

Sketch-verse:Harem prospects and the sexual relationship tiers

I often try ask the folks what or who their personal choices for for harems for my 3 main muses would be, mainly as a means of seeing their own thoughts and opinions. But as they say, sometimes context is king so you got to be a little more in depth and detail. For example say based mainly and especially on criteria like how well they feel some girls go well well with them and the chemistry I may've conveyed in their chapters. For further context of course I've devised this tier system to where some women would rank in terms of intimacy in their sexual relations with Krillin, Kirishima and Moxxie.

Top tier would be the alpha wife/girlfriend which in this case goes Kirishima-Mina Krillin-18 Moxxie-millie

Then you got the alpha girlfriend sisters Kirishima-Maya and Tsuyu Krillin-21 and Erasa Moxxie-Verosika and Loona

Girls who make the alpha grade are the official harem roster members so to speak. Then other tiers you’d have like Breeding bitches-the girls who gladly want to get knocked up fuck buddies-close intimate friends with benefits one nighters-booty calls for when the stud needs a swift ball drain on hand should none of the other tier girls be available Intimate acquaintances:not quite friends with benefits or Booty calls,but anytime they happen to be around and down to fuck?

Co-workers/co-stars:regular scene partners and what not in their respective porn careers,often girls in this tier also qualify for any of the above tiers

The Trifecta Club:Women who've been with my 3 dudes at least once and may also qualify for any of the aforementioned tiers.

[goodnightwrite]

Beautiful Burden to Bear || Blade x Jing Yuan

Ren is not an ideal bedmate, but he is beautiful. Raven-haired, with alabaster skin and a face utterly striking in its androgyny; Ren is a Classical Beauty by Xianzhou standards, if one ignores the scars, the viciousness, and the hint of fresh blood clinging to him like an iron perfume. And Jing Yuan does. Jing Yuan is smitten.

In which Blade keeps returning to Jing Yuan’s bed at the end of the day, and that really is the least of Jing Yuan’s problems.

>> AO3 link >>Ko-fi link

[ustalav]

oc in 15

tagged by @space-writes tyy ive spent my morning reading ur fics coincidentally <3

Rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

gonna do gideon!!

"Unfortunately, I remain dedicated to you. Because I’m in love with you and have always been under the impression bedding another would be a betrayal of that."

"But when we... do it, it will be love-making, right?"

"Apology accepted. There is no 'fucking' or 'dicking', chaste as a cloistered sister, as I said. But you do seem the type to enjoy that sort of thing. Fereldans. You've been here too long."

“I’m sorry. I’m drunk. Ignore me, I’m not acting like myself.”

“You’re terrible.” Gideon repeats, smacking his palm flat against Rodaine’s chest just to touch more skin. “In front of a cloistered man nonetheless.”

“I wouldn’t. Then he might tell me what you say about me when I’m not around. And I can hardly handle what you say when I am.”

"If I could stay at your side, I would. I would never leave it."

“I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

“I would retrieve it for you but I’m afraid I’ll come across something ghastly or perhaps things aren’t fully, um, taken care of. Not that I doubt your abilities. But truly it would be no bother if you wanted to come and look. With me.” A pause. “Or not. You don’t have to.”

"I can't be just your friend and your... bedmate. I can't. Please don't ask that of me. I-" He breathes a shaky breath, still gripping Rodaine tight. "Can't be only your friend and... bear to see you every day."

"Why am I here? You pulled me from my friends, my work, my position in the Circle for what? I can't wait around until you decide you forgive me. Or if I can, I can at least do it from a distance that doesn't hurt so much."

“You will be the first person I tell if I get a mortal papercut or maybe roll my ankle gathering herbs.”

"Personally never go near the thing myself, I'm as chaste as a cloistered sister."

You should see my room. You would hate it. I have a whole corner for prayer and I’ve discovered my grimoire is perfect for pressing flowers.”

"I didn't mean like that, you dirty..." he grasps for the right word, "Heathen."

from a mixture of AUs and roleplays

i will tag @sinquisition @aztarion @transprincecaspian and @foxboyclit

[wizofwaterdeep]

@oathwilled asked: "you look cute all frazzled like this." // morning after starters;; open

It is a pleasurable experience, waking up in one’s own bed, soft and silky and oh so luxurious. One thing’s for certain, the wizard’s aching muscles are most grateful for his return to Waterdeep. (Even if said muscles continue to be strained in other manners.) No longer sleeping upon hard and unforgiving ground, instead he basks in the pleasure of a supple mattress and a handsome bedmate.

“Frazzled?” Gale huffs grumpily into the side of his lover’s pillow, brown locks of hair splayed messily across cream-colored fabric. Such a disheveled appearance is less than ideal—or so he once believed—now he revels in tender vulnerability. Moments of domestic bliss when Gale can simply allow himself to be human. To feel. To love. “Exhausted, perhaps, but frazzled? I suppose you could consider me so, following the previous evening’s activities.”

[sarangbe]

there's something so addictive about being physically connected to someone else, especially when no clothing stands in the way—just skin-on-skin contact in its truest, rawest form. maybe he idealizes moments like this too much, but sarang can't help but get some sort of high as he curls into joomi, especially when joomi reciprocates; their heads using one another's for support as sarang becomes all the more familiar with how powerful joomi's pheromones are. he breathes them in, then out, and can't help but feel further drawn into the man occupying his bed. his arm and leg squeeze tighter around the other's musculature, and he allows his eyes to fall closed as he listens to the mellifluous words that flow from between joomi's lips.

while the tone of his voice is low, and admittedly quite sexy, the words that string together each sentence carry depth, and confusion. it makes sarang sad knowing that he can't fully take away the negativity that swathes joomi in this moment, but he's glad that he's able to help him out somehow, and he hopes that he can still continue doing so in whatever other ways he can. he's well-aware that joomi isn't reading too much into their tryst, and that's perfectly fine with him. if anything, he's glad that joomi's being so candid. not many men have the decency to do that. in sarang's experience, most of them turn into "ghosts" post-climax.

taking a breath, he reopens his eyes and licks over his lips. they're still slightly swollen from all the kissing they've done. "it being something still counts, though..." he reminds him; soft. "maybe it's not love now, but the fact that he's taking up so much space in your head, and your heart, has meaning; weight." tightening his grip once more, he peppers kisses along his bedmate's neck and jawline; still fueled with potent affection. "he'll come around, though. he has to. this feels too good for him to run away from... you feel too good." sarang grins, then giggles.

what can he say? he must be underneath some sort of spell.

though, when joomi admits that he's seemingly only interested in men that treat him like shit, sarang frowns, then decides to be a little cheeky. repositioning himself, he motions so he can straddle joomi—his body's natural curvature accentuated by the romantic lighting of his bedroom; the weight of his backside present on joomi's groin as he gazes at him. "mmm, well, there's still time for me to capture your heart."

he teases; winking to emphasize playfulness. leaning down, he stamps a kiss onto joomi's forehead, then travels further down to his lips; locking them for a few seconds before coming back up.

"you're so special, joomi. trust me, i know what it's like to chase after all the 'wrong' men, but for now, all i can hope is that i can help you see how magical you are..." sarang lilts, leaning forward again so that he can cradle joomi's head in his hands. "because trust me, you are magical, and lovable, and deserving of someone who cherishes you... who makes you a priority in their lives."

with that, he kisses him again, but this time, deepens their embrace; hoping that he can convey what he means with his mouth alone.

joomi doesn't really expect sarang to be upset, but he also doesn't expect him to call him cute, after joomi just confessed to using him as a distraction. sarang handles it gracefully, though, and reassures him, and joomi looks at him, wondering if he really means it. he supposes, if he chooses to believe it, any pain sarang feels over this will be his own fault for lying to joomi.

"he's not my...anything." he wants him to be, though. saying it makes the reality of the situation settle in more than ever. he doesn't want jinyoung to be his boyfriend; that still scares him. he just wants him to be something; more than the friend he's sleeping with, but he doesn't know what. less than boyfriend but more than friends with benefits.

maybe all he really wants is for jinyoung to feel the same way he does. he wants to kiss him without feeling afraid. he wants their afterglow to last forever. he can't, though, and it won't, and wishing for it is futile and thinking about it is a waste of time, but knowing that doesn't make any of it go away. no one is rational when love is involved, sarang says, and that scares him too, because he doesn't know if he's been rational about moon jinyoung for a moment since he's met him. no, maybe at first, when he hated him, he was; hatred was the rational response to dealing with a dumbass of jinyoung's magnitude. somewhere along the way, it changed, though, and he doesn't know when. maybe it was their first night at that bar, jinyoung radiating animosity, but still lingering in joomi's personal space, almost close enough to taste. that was probably the moment he stopped being rational. does that mean he's loved jinyoung ever since then?

is that what this is? love? he hopes not. "it's also not...love," he clarifies aloud, but it feels like a lie on his tongue and sounds like one when he says it. "but it's...something." something he doesn't know how to name yet. something he doesn't want to talk about but that feels too big for his body. something that likely means nothing to jinyoung.

he lets out a quiet, dejected sigh, and when sarang kisses his neck and nuzzles into him, joomi leans his head against his. he lets himself melt into sarang, if only a little, because he is warm and affectionate and it is so strange but so welcome. how many times has he wanted someone to hold him like this and mean it? (too many. more than he would ever admit.)

he knows sarang means it. he does feel less lonely, and he feels...loved, in a way that isn't so scary; no commitment or overthinking required. sarang loves him without loving him; full of care, but still light and free. platonic, aside from the fact that sarang now knows he's really good in bed, apparently. he is?

"thanks," he chuckles, and decides not to admit how ultimately inexperienced he is. he'll just chalk it up to natural talent or something. maybe the universe decided he needed to have one thing going for him.

"i'm glad," he replies, and joomi means that, too. at least sarang got something out of this as well. it's a little surreal to joomi that sex with him could be anything anyone thinks about for a while in such a positive light, but he's trying to accept it.

that's one of the easier things to accept.

he closes his eyes, and focuses on sarang's weight on him, and tries to let it soothe him. "i wish i liked you instead," he says, going against his nature and not thinking much about it. "you're so nice to me. i just like men that treat me like shit."

[fanfic-enthusiast]

Creature Comfort (Cotl Foxtau fic)

A gift for @thotfulsuccubus 

~

It feels like it had been ages since Ratau first made his deal with Fox. His life for repeated ‘favors’ upon Fox’s request. It... surprisingly not the worst deal Ratau had ever made in his long lifetime. 

When you had the power of a god there were plenty of deals struck after all, but the clarity of losing that power made him look upon those choices in a new light. And in some ways he knew he couldn’t forgive himself for some of the things he’s done. 

So getting his back blown out on a regular basis by the Fox that would have murdered him was far from the worst thing he could imagine himself agreeing to. 

Occasionally, when Fox’s appetite was sated, they would even partake in softer activities, like right now. 

“Stop squirming.” 

“I will when you stop squeezing me so tight! I can’t breath!”

Fox was curled up in his bed holding Ratau tight to his chest like a child holding a teddy bear. With how strong Fox was it felt more like Ratau was getting slowly crushed than held like a dear toy. 

He loosened his grip and Ratau took a couple large breaths. Gathering himself before he was once again pulled, more gently to Fox’s side. 

His large red body curled around him, enveloping his small brown body in thick red fur. Soft to the touch despite smelling like woodland undergrowth. It was a smell Ratau had come to... grow comfortable with. 

A large clawed hand gently ran down his back, from his head to his tail making Ratau relax farther into the red fluff of his bedmate’s tummy. 

“There we are my pet. Nice and relaxed, don’t I take good care of you?”

“Mhm.” Whatever helped him sleep at night Ratau supposed. Though this was very nice, how long had it been sense he was cuddled so tenderly. 

Fox chuckled a little under his breath and continued petting his lovely little rat. Who laid so small against his chest, Ratau was a helpless creature in his arms. Wrapped in the arms of a predator and bound to his whims. 

And yet he felt like he was wrapped in a soft heavy blanket next to a fire on a cold day. Cozy and comfortable. Almost made him forget who he was next to in his bed. 

Perhaps it was wrong to relax like this in his presence, he should feel more on edge terrified even. And yet he found his eyes growing heavy as he listened to the Fox’s heartbeat against his chest. 

He felt Fox nose between his ears and down to his shoulder, where the mark that branded him as the fox’s plaything rested. A contented sigh left Fox’s chest when felt it there and he curled around Ratau a little tighter. Almost protectively. Laying his bushy tail over the two of them, blocking out the light from the fireplace. 

Ratau made no comment on such behavior and simply relaxed with him, ideally stroking the fur on Fox’s chest while they laid in comfortable silence. 

Eventually his thoughts slowed and his breathing with it, his eyes slipping shut with this artificial night the fox had created for him under his body. 

Fox shushed him gently and licked his cheek before settling his head next to Ratau’s with his eyes also covered by his fluffy tail. 

And so these two creatures so different from one another yet united under their dirty deals slept the day away in each others embrace. 

Sated and content. 

[blairsanne]

Just What You Wanted

For the @deanobingo 2023 event!

Prompts: Marco - "Can I borrow that?" Go Girls - Marco 607 words

Summary: Marco reflects on the origins of his scarf. CW: Implied off-screen sex, alcohol consumption.

A/N: Just a little idea I had early on in the month so here it is before the Bingo event is over! Canon-Marco is pretty awful, but I got this idea that maybe he wasn't always like that...

Marco slid off the edge of the mattress and grinned to himself as he found his underwear in the mess of clothing strewn across the floor.

While he got himself redressed, his latest bedmate pointed to his patterned scarf. “Ooh! Can I borrow that?”

“No!” He snatched it up and held it away, turning his body to shield it from her reach.

She stepped back in alarm and pouted, hugging her bare chest.

“Er, I mean-” He let out a nervous laugh, embarrassed by his overreaction. “It’s just- sort of part of my brand y’know?”

He wrapped it around his neck like a security blanket, still shirtless.

She let out a forced laugh. “Yeah, I reckon, now that you say that.”

She picked her shirt up off the floor. “Just thought it would look cute as a halter.”

Marco raised his brows and looked her over, imagining it wrapped over her tits. “Yeah, yeah it would.”

“Maybe I should buy my own. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh, uh- nowhere special, but it was a while back.” 

She shrugged, seeming to let go of the idea as she grabbed her purse.

He rubbed his mouth, trying to push the memories from his mind of when he’d started wearing it every day to begin with.

--

(Years earlier)

Marco huffed as he slumped into the booth in his local pub. “Kace bailed on me!”

His friend Tom scrunched his face. “Was she coming out tonight?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Marco’s flatmate to join them for drinks, but Tom didn’t remember her being part of the plan.

“No, I mean she took off! Shifted to Wellington with a note left on the table while I was at work.”

“Ah, bummer.” Tom nodded in commiseration.

James leaned over with a keen look. “If you need a new flattie, I can move in next week.”

“Oh yeah?” Marco took a sip of his beer before nodding, still frowning. “Choice.”

“Wellington, eh? Must be chasing after that fella she likes.” “Ah, yeah! The tv host.” “You reckon?” “Yeah, you know chicks; only want fame and clout.”

“Really?” Marco wiped at his nose and sighed. “I sorta thought, y’know, we might get together.” “Oh, maaaaaaate.”

“She was always saying how I was such a great guy and all…” “She had you on the hook so bad, bro.”

--

The next morning, Marco stumbled into his kitchen to make some coffee, cursing Kacey once more as he lamented his hangover.

As it percolated, he looked around the flat, noting the second-hand furniture, tattered posters on the wall, and general mess.

This isn’t the sort of flat Kacey’s ideal man would have, he thought. She goes for those jafas with leather sofas and perfect hair, who smoke cigarettes and bag a different chick every night. Famous guys on TV, who can afford to take her out wherever she likes.

He started tidying up in frustration, vowing to himself that he’d become exactly that sort of guy.

And when she comes crawling back, I’ll treat her just like they always do, he thought bitterly. Just what you wanted, Kace.

He grabbed his jacket off one of the battered dining room chairs, pausing when a black and grey scarf fell out from under it. Kacey’s.

He bent down to pick it up, stilling as he smelled the lingering scent of her perfume. His bitterness turned to sadness again as he thought of her. He wasn’t sure if he would actually be able to reject her, if she ever did want him someday.

He put the scarf on and looked at himself in the mirror.

Just like one of those jafas.

--

Tags: @laurfilijames @the-poldarkian @i-did-not-mean-to @the-butterfly-blues @fortheloveofdurin @spngingerbread21 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @missihart23

As always, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from a taglist (for everything, for specific characters, etc.)

[plusthreerabbits]

The thing that makes Shion an ideal bedmate is also a thing that dials up my anxiety to 11/10: he has a poop schedule. This insane lil creechur will only produce poops like once or twice a day but in GREAT VOLUME. Which means that I have to tell myself a hundred times a day, "It's fine he will poop later tonight stop worrying stoP WORRYING STOP IT"

Why can't I have a normal rabbit that eats and poops as he goes

[eight-house]

The Moon Signs in Bed

MOON IN ARIES

Aries’ passion is immediate; love and desire do not build up gradually, but begin  full force and proceed with high intensity. In the bed- room, you enjoy taking the lead, and go after what you want with intensity and determination. Between the sheets you’re a fiery lover—easily aroused, with physical desires that urgently demand satisfaction. You have a strong appetite for anything new and innovative, and a talent for keeping the spirit of your love alive and thriving. You’re open to trying anything that is fun and adventurous—at least once. Although your sexual needs are high, intimate involvement with one person may become a source of conflict, because you require a great deal of personal freedom. It’s often easier for you to commit yourself physically than emotionally, so you deflect what you’re feeling into your sexuality. Then you deal with your emotions on that level, instead of confronting them directly. For you, a successful permanent relationship needs to be based in friendship as well as in love and romance.  

MOON IN TAURUS

Your needs and desires are simple and of a practical, physical nature. Highly physical, your enjoyment of lovemaking is direct and unabashed and all types of physical contact appeal to your strongly sensuous nature. While you have no trouble drawing your lover to you, you actually enjoy being seduced. Initially shy, you  become a sexual dynamo once aroused. For Taurus the neck is a major erogenous zone, and you welcome slow, sliding kisses along your neck as a prelude to love- making. Your personal recipe for love consists of equal parts passion and romance. However, while romantic, you don’t overlook the realities of life. No matter how passionate, hasty couplings in bleak, uncomfortable places hold little appeal for you. The bed partner who sets the scene with candles, music, and flowers, and plies you with delectable goodies such as exotic fruits, chocolates, and fine wines truly knows the surest way to your heart.

MOON IN GEMINI

More mental than emotional or physical, your major erotic zone is between your ears. You get off on fantasizing and talking about sex. Your aversion to boredom makes witty banter and subtle promises of previously untried bedroom techniques the ideal come-on from a prospective lover. You expect sex to be fun and prefer making love in unusual places. Risk provides an added thrill, and the possibility of getting caught in the act fuels your erotic imaginings. Even at home, you dislike having your lovemaking confined to the bedroom. Variety and change stimulate your desires, and you’re willing to try anything new or different. Since you love gadgets, sex toys and devices are a welcome addition to your erotic activities.

MOON IN CANCER 

In an intimate union, the intensity of your sexuality is directly connected to the depth of your feeling for your companion. The act of love can carry you to incredible heights or leave you feeling deflated and let down. Sex for its own sake is just not your style. In the bedroom, your approach is romantic, sensual, tender, and always considerate of your lover’s wishes. You long to be courted and love to kiss and cuddle between the sheets. In intimate moments, you’re shy and sensitive, but in your dreams, you’re bold, imaginative, and audacious enough to take risks that you hesitate to pursue in reality. Your ideal bed partner coaxes you out of your shell, and gets you to reveal your most erotic imaginings. When acting out your secret fantasies, you engage your entire being in an exotic game of joyful seduction.

MOON IN LEO

Love is your ultimate aphrodisiac, and your idea of the perfect turn-on includes tons of affection and admiration. As a lover, you’re not a big fan of subtlety and believe that actions really do speak louder than words. While aggressive and dramatic in the bedroom, you’re never crude or boorish. Your sunny, romantic idealism permeates your lovemaking just as it lights up every other area of your life. Physical intimacy makes you feel alive and fulfilled, and your sexual prowess and ability to please your lover are exceedingly important to you. Because your plea- sure-seeking instincts are strong, you’re eager to experience all the joys lovemaking has to offer. Your sex drive is greatly enhanced by the comfortable accoutrements of the good life, and you get off on being pampered and wooed luxuriously, as befits your regal, leonine status.

MOON IN VIRGO

Because of its introverted aspect, Virgo is not a very sexual position for the Moon. Even when your deepest feelings are engaged, your shyness makes it hard for you to be demonstrative. You want a close union based on mutual respect and affection, and appreciate the refined elegance of beautiful, tasteful surroundings. Getting physical with your lover allows you to relax and forget about mundane worries. Since pleasing your mate is foremost in your mind, once you feel comfortable with your bedmate you make an amazingly skilled, generous bed partner. When you find a new way to gratify your lover, you hone the technique until it approaches perfection. While not the most exciting lover, you’re definitely one of the most considerate and obliging. Moreover, like a fine wine, your sensuality becomes richer with age and experience

MOON IN LIBRA 

Your approach to lovemaking is glamorous and alluring. You appreciate the intri- cate rituals of old-fashioned courtship, and enjoy being wooed with finesse and sophistication. Sex and romance are intertwined in your mind, and you prefer artful seduction to a carnal free-for-all. Your erotic sensuality emerges most readily in a sumptuous setting that engages all the senses. Luxurious bedding, sultry nightwear, soft music, flickering candles, and fresh flowers add the requisite spice to your lovemaking. A special night dedicated to love, in a romantic setting with moonlight and whispered words of adoration, serves as a genuine turn-on and affectionate gestures and loving words draw out your passions and get your sexual juices flowing.

MOON IN SCORPIO

Imbued with a smoldering sexuality, when you turn on your sultry charm, few can resist you and, once you get going beneath the covers, you have tremendous staying power. Your passionate lovemaking requires a dynamic bed partner with physical stamina equal to your own. Your innate fascination with sexuality inspires numerous fantasies of erotic seduction. Acting out these scenarios with your mate provides an outlet for your active imagination in addition to being a guaranteed turn-on. An extremist, you equate sex with power and control, making you a de- manding, but wickedly delightful lover. You intuit your partner’s secret desires— and make them come true. Sharing your lusty thoughts with your beloved serves as tantalizing foreplay for steamy nights of intense lovemaking.

MOON IN SAGITTARIUS

Your sex drive is strong, but erratic. At times, your bedroom style can be wildly experimental, and you’re always eager to explore new ways of expanding your sen- sual horizons. Physical attraction sparks your interest initially, but it takes intel- lectual stimulation to hold it indefinitely. Spontaneity, fun, excitement, and adventure turn you on and matter more to you than grand passion. A short getaway is relaxing, and camping, hiking, and making love under the stars reinvigorates you. Your natural exuberance, candor, and lack of guile in the bedroom allow you to express your sexual desires openly. More interested in action than fantasy, having sex in different locations—at home and otherwise— is a real turn-on for you. Why be restricted to the bedroom when there are so many other appealing places to make love?

MOON IN CAPRICORN

When aroused the strongly sexed lunar goat is capable of intense and sustained ardor. Where lovemaking is concerned, you like to take it slow and get it right and you work at love with the same diligence and dedication that you apply to other areas of your life. Your style of lovemaking, while respectful and refined, tends to be no-nonsense and you consider coquettish games a waste of time. Nevertheless, whatever you lack in the romance department, you more than make up for in skill and sexual prowess. Despite your down-to-earth attitude toward sexuality, you can be vamped and seduced. Your ideal lover knows how to lure the horny goat out of hiding by creating an atmosphere of sensuality where you can relax and give full rein to your many erotic desires. 

MOON IN  AQUARIUS

In the bedroom, you’re daring and unconventional. A genuine nonconformist, you’re sexually uninhibited and predisposed to experimentation; if something sounds fun, you’re willing to give it a go. You exude a sex appeal that positively crackles with electricity, and you believe that nothing is too far out as long as it pleases both partners. However, no matter how much you enjoy making love, you always keep your wits about you and never allow yourself to be totally swept away by passion. Lovemaking has little meaning for you unless it truly engages your mind along with your body, and you respond as readily to verbal suggestion as to physical stimulation.

MOON IN PISCES

For the fish, love and sex are irrevocably intertwined, and nothing gets your attention faster than an old-fashioned romantic courtship. You want a lover who quotes poetry, scatters rose petals, and makes all-consuming love by candlelight. In turn, you enchant your lover through subtle seduction, and your unpredictable nature makes you endlessly fascinating. In bed, your aura of vulnerability brings out your partner’s protective instincts. Although you love to kiss and cuddle, the physical side of sex matters less to you than an emotional connection with your lover. Even so, you’re no slouch between the sheets. Prepared to give your all, you readily set your own needs and desires aside in order to satisfy those of your bed- mate

[hxllblazer-a]

"so what is your vibe? everyone has a type... " so sure her, zee's curious and hasn't quite been able to pin it down-- he's already shot both of her suggestions down, and it's certainly got her wondering. head tilted curiously, the magician sips her drink. go on, johnny, teach her how to be a better wingman! (early on obv hehe)

“M’ vibe?” The words coming from around the rim of his own glass and he tilted his head back to think about it. Well, John was going to assume beside the obvious one or that was going to be quite the awkward conversation.

“Tall, large—not necessarily muscular but if so that’s a happy bonus. Mostly concerned ‘bout the shoulders.” Which, also seemed to be a given in hindsight. “Maybe a touch bossy, gotta be able t’ put up with me’s a given, and bonus if they’re open to pain.”

That… last part probably shouldn’t have sounded as casual as it did.

zee and john gossip about ideal bedmates || @haeroeine