#c:leda

[covairebred]

ღ ( from Leda ;D)

Romantic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extremeSexual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extremeAesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme Sensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme

[ledarigby]

“Unless you know about current pop culture or literature above the obligatory highschool knowledge, I’m not interested.”

[covairebred]

“Why would I ever be interested in you?” She was pissed to learn that Drew had brought her back to the house for the night.

[thelastprewett]

gimme some leda/fabian yesss

Part of it is the thrill. The secrecy; they’re not supposed to be here. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because this is one moment and the next only resides in his imagination. Only the present exists, the future is a vague concept, a million potential scenarios shaped by every possible decision between now and then. What matters this second is that she’s pressed between him and the wardrobe in this darkened bedroom that has clearly gone unused for too long. Everything is lavish, expensive, from her dress to the furniture to the hangings on the bed and he just wants to tear it apart.

She looked so innocent out there in the dining room. From the moment he saw her he knew that had to be changed. And now her perfect hair was falling down around her face, her dress hiked up one leg as he ran his fingers up along the back of her thigh. With his left he gripped her side, pressing her harder into the wardrobe. Lips crushed against hers, his kisses were hurried, rough, sloppy. She tasted like lipstick, his own mouth burned with the residue of liquid courage.

“Ah, fuck me,” he groaned into her mouth. He didn’t mean it that way. Well, he did in some sense. But praise Godric, her tits! Fabian groped her greedily as his mouth made its way along the line of her jaw and down her neck, a mixture of tongue and teeth leaving traces of lipstick and, hopefully, a nice bruise or two. Reaching her chest he kissed her here too, almost gently, as it rose and fell in time with her breath. Here he paused, pulling away, letting his fingers fall to her waist as he locked his eyes with hers. They were both breathing heavily, his heart was pounding as hers must have been. There was a smile playing at her red lips, the color smudged and fading. A hungry look crossed his own face. He wanted to rip the dress off of her, enjoying the sensation as it tore at the seams. But he had a feeling she wouldn’t like that. These pureblood girls and their clothes.

Instead he crashed into her once more, pressing her hard against the wardrobe and grinding against her, crushing his face into hers. His hands snaked around her back, searching for a zipper, buttons, anything that would let him get this damned dress off of her. Fuck this. He’s starting to feel like he’s already halfway there and his cock is still in his fucking trousers.

Gripping the fabric of the skirt he pulled it up, hoisting the hem above her knees, her thighs, allowing his fingers to trail along the inside. Her breath was hot on his neck and she was pulling at his trousers now, fumbling with his belt, pushing his trousers down to his knees. That was all he needed. Rough, fast, impersonal. Get what you want and get out. The girls weren’t always so keen on that, he knew she wouldn’t be but she was just going to have to deal. When it was over they might stand there, leaning into one another as they caught their breath, waiting for the tingling to stop. And then he would make his excuses, wipe the lipstick from his face, and hurry out the door. But that was the future and the future didn’t matter right now. The whole world was only this moment.