Thank you so much for the tag @perlen-gold and @a-dwarfs-dream-of-space 💕 I enjoy these a lot!
Here's mine. It's another Angbaby AU snippet. Mentions of non explicit sex in this one :3 Hope you enjoy <3
I tag @endless-natterings @the-other-syd @the-froggit @gospelxforxthexfallenxones @kisses-in-the-void @lemoneyshipz @sellycarcosa @balrogballs @moringottocake @cilil and honestly everyone specifically in the angbang tag again <3
Snippet under the cut :D
"Flame? What's the matter?"
Melkor has turned towards him with those dark, questioning eyes of his. He always notices discomfort. It's useless trying to hide from him. They know each other inside and out.
"Headache," he smiles. "You know how it is."
Melkor frowns and reaches out, carefully pulling him in a warm embrace. It's remarkable, how he can maneuver Mairon's body in a way that's easy on his head yet still deliciously firm and even though it doesn't actually hurt, Mairon still feels affection flutter about his chest. He's just opening his mouth to tell Melkor as much when he catches his wolfish smile.
"You're lying."
How does he always know?
"Technically, I'm not. It's coming. I can tell."
This one isn't a lie. Melkor's face makes it obvious he prefers it to be one.
"Little gem, if those don't stop you need to see a doctor. I don't like how long they've been going on for."
Melkor is fully awake now. His dark hair is unkempt from sleep and partially falling into his face, his right eye seems slightly swollen. The impossible man always does that. Lays on his eye and then keeps complaining when it inevitably swells up. He's not particularly sexy. Mairon wants to fuck him for the next five hours.
"You've got morning breath."
"Don't change the topic. I want those headaches gone."
"They're not that bad."
Mairon grimaces. Another lie. They hurt like hell. Feel like Gothmog's using his brain as a bouncy castle.
"I don't care. What you're gonna tell me right now won't be the truth anyway. You're such a cat, Mairon. You never do what you're told unless I get serious."
Mairon sticks out his lower lip.
"Now that is just wrong. I feel wronged."
He sniffs theatrically. "Have I not been loyal? Don't I see you as my master? Never would I dare question your authority or your oders, Sir."
"You called me a fucking moron yesterday."
"That was just an endearment."
Melkor huffs a laugh into his hair and lets his hands slide down Mairon's sides. Mairon shivers, lids fluttering closed. If it weren't for the building pressure behind his eyes ... well.
"I'd never question your authority in earnest, Master. You know that, right?", Mairon asks, quieter this time.
"I do. Now, is that headache real or can I rail you into next week?"
Their bodies are well aware of their weekend rhythm by now. There's always sex on saturday morning. He can feel Melkor's hardness press into his backside. And if Mairon's body and mind hadn't decided on being awful today he'd already be on his back, howling.
He smiles apologetically.
"I'm afraid it will be real very soon. Would you close the blinds for me? That way we can at least use our hands."
Melkor is out of bed in the blink of an eye. Sex is an amazing motivator, Mairon thinks, grinning softly.
By the time they hear Solas getting up, the pressure behind Mairon's eyes has grown into approximately five elefants doing rhythmical gymnastics in his skull. Well, whatever.
Mairon, being himself grits his teeth and swings his legs out of bed.
The villain had to admit, they were not immune to the sight of the hero kneeling before them.
"...cannot fight two wars at once," the hero was saying, steady and dignified, their clenched jaw the only sign of their tension. "In a choice between the annihilation of my people or surrender, I come to negotiate terms that will be mutually beneficial against a common enemy."
"Interesting," the villain said, popping a grape into their mouth. They had day dreamed about this, though their version typically involved a couple guards to hold the hero down. Never had they dreamed the hero would give themselves up of their own accord. "Or, I could make smart decision and sit back, watch you and this new challenger exhaust yourselves, and then swoop in to pick up the pieces."
The hero's jaw clenched even tighter. "If you do nothing, the only pieces left for you will be salted fields and mass graves," they said, almost smoothly enough to hid the raw anger under their words. "I did think you were more avaricious than that."
"Careful, you're throwing insults," the villain said, standing to their feet. "That's not very appropriate when you're begging me to save you. No, no - stay down."
The hero took in a great, shuddering breath, but sank back down to their knees from where they had started to rise. Their face was flushed and their hands clenched around the mudstained hem of their tunic, but they kept their glare fixed on the villain's. The villain didn't mind. They held the hero's gaze with a grin as they strolled down the steps of their dias.
"There will be no negotiation," the villain hummed, savoring the fury and the helplessness in the hero's face. "I get your throne. And I get you."
The hero jerked back as if struck. They did not break eye contact, the villain had to hand it to them. But there was no surprise. Just a despairing acceptance that the worst was happening. "A... a marriage alliance is certainly a solution I am prepared to consider," the hero said.
"Oh, if this were a marriage proposal I'd be the one on my knee." The villain reached out and ran a hand through the hero's hair. Just because they could. The hero shuddered deliciously under their touch as the villain leaned in. "You'll be mine," the villain whispered in their longtime rival's ear. "Whatever I choose to call you, however I choose to use you."
"I'm not accepting that," the hero breathed out.
"You don't have a choice-" the villain started.
"-unless you guarantee my people's safety," the hero finished, eyes fixed past the villain. They were trembling but still so defiant, so brave. "Half your best forces to my borders within the week, another quarter within the month. And no throwing my people off their land - you take them as your own to defend."
The villain stopped in their tracks. Looked down at the hero. "I said no negotiations."
The hero managed a faint smile. "And yet here we are. Negotiating."
The villain drew their dagger. The hero closed their eyes but did not flinch. "Look at you," the villain hummed, teasing the hero's chin up with the edge of the blade. "Out of friends, out of soldiers, out of resources. Begging on your knees and you still don't realize your position."
The hero swallowed again, throat bobbing against the knife. "Take my deal," they said, the self sacrificing idiot. "Save my people. And in return..." Their hand wrapped around the villain's wrist, warm and gently promising. "In return, I suppose you can teach me my position."
The smart play was to do nothing. The smart play was to wait this war out. But the hero was on their knees, on their knees, offering the villain everything... The villain couldn't say no to that. And they didn't.
Send a ❤ if you want to ship our muses but are too scared to initiate & the receiver will pop over to IMs to chat you up for some shippy goodness!
Send a ❥ if you want to write some spicy stuff between our muses, yet might not necessarily be looking for a ship.
So I have like a billion little HotchReid burbles that the amazingly wonderful and endlessly patient @spencersfunkysocks has had to put up with for the last couple of months. So I might start posting some of them here between bigger fics. They're not really edited and just really fast drabbles more than anything super expanded on. If anyone has any interest though, I might elaborate on a few <3 hope you enjoy
Before they're together. There's this function and Strauss told them they'll all have to play nice.
"Hotch. I don't want to do this. I don't even dance."
"Alright alright. Calm down. C'mere."
There's a lot of stepped-on toes and a lot of cussing on Reid's part but Hotch just grins and tells him it's alright. Take a breath and they'll take it from the top.
"I'll take you from the top"
Hotch's mouth gets the better of him. "I think we both know that's not true"
He misses his next step and ends up stepping on Reods foot.
"Oh my God. I am… so sorry." And he's pulling away as quickly as he can cause ooops. But Reid is biting his lip.
"You know. I've seen others dancing. Usually, it's a little more…" and he's pulling Hotch a bit closer, putting his head on his shoulder and they both relax into it.
The song ends but they're still spinning slowly. When Reid tilts his head back, Hotch is already looking at him.
"If you want me to stop…"
Reid just shakes his head and leans into the kiss, letting himself be crowded back onto Hotch's desk.
It's very smiley and soft and Reid is chuckling a little. "You know for someone who's pretty good on your feet, your hands get a bit clumsy when you're nervous,"
"Reid not now"
Reid makes a smug sound and only pulls Hotch a bit closer.
"So still thinking about skipping the event?" Hotch asks with a smile.
"Would be easier to go with a date," Reid asks, and there's a sudden hesitation there that… well. That won't do. So Hotch leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth.
"Would you like to go with me this weekend?"
"As long as you don't mind having a crap dance partner." Spencer smiles a little.
"You'll catch on. We can practice."
Author's note: They don't practice. Not even a little bit.
By the time Hotch proposes 2 years later, Reid is a fantastic dancer. But they're dancing at another event when Hotch asks and Reid missteps and lands on Hotch's foot, only making Hotch laugh.
"It's been 18 months since you've stepped on my foot…"
"20 months, 1 week and 3…. that doesn't. Yes."
He's got his face buried into Hotch's neck grinning like mad.
Can you please do more vampire Obi-wan? I want Anakin to convince him to take more than just a few mouthfuls and for it to maybe end a bit steamy?? Please? 🥺
:DDDDD
In the end, Anakin ended up listening to the mind healers. He’d tried everything else, after all. He waited until they were planetside on a world where everything was - for once - not going completely awry and found Obi-Wan in the small but clean room he’d been given to stay in during the treaty negotiations.
Obi-Wan smiled to see him, waving him through the door, saying something about the meeting they were supposed to attend the next day. The words went through Anakin’s head like water, leaving no trace behind. Obi-Wan noticed, somehow, glancing up at him and frowning while he asked, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Anakin said, though his pulse was beating too fast and his mouth felt dry. Obi-Wan stared another moment, nodded, and started to turn back to all his paperwork. Anakin took a sharp step forward before he could, seized onto the mind healer’s advice, and blurted, “I want you to bite me. Again.”
Obi-Wan froze, holding a sheaf of papers in one hand, only slowly turning his head to look at Anakin once more. His expression looked perfectly serene. “Excuse me?”
Anakin licked his lips - they felt ridiculously dry - and said, “I’d like you to - do you remember when you, I mean, you--”
“I recall,” Obi-Wan cut in, quietly, gaze dipping down just briefly and - and his eyes looked darker, all at once. Something about that made Anakin’s gut clench.
“Good,” Anakin said, because this was, somehow, going better than he’d worried it would. “I’m - good. That’s good. I thought, maybe. You could do that again.”
Obi-Wan’s head cocked to the side. He still hadn’t moved the rest of his body. He said, slowly, as though selecting each word with care, “I’m well-provisioned, Anakin. I should have more than enough synth to--”
“I know that.” Anakin always double-checked, these days. He’d entertained brief thoughts of feeding Obi-Wan again as a necessity, but the idea of Obi-Wan starving to death had left him too horrified for that. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Obi-Wan asked, eyes narrowing a little. “Surely you don’t just want to be bitten?”
Anakin’s nerve threatened to flee, but he was the man with no fear. He’d faced entire armies. And the mind healers said this would help, that it was the best way to handle the issue. He drew back his shoulders, took a breath, and said, “Actually, I do.” Obi-Wan stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing, perhaps, and Anakin continued, trying to fill the quiet. “I liked it, when you did it. And I - I want you to do it again. For more than two swallows.”
He found, to his shock, that actually saying the words did feel good. The healers must have been onto something. He felt physically lighter. Obi-Wan still hadn’t moved when he said, “Anakin, I think I should take you to the healers--”
“No, I don’t need the healers.” Anakin took a step forward, reaching out for Obi-Wan’s free hand. “Believe me. I - it felt good, Obi-Wan. I’m not delusional or confused or anything. I - look. Look into my feelings.” He pulled Obi-Wan’s hand up against his cheek, a remnant of the distant past, when he’d thought touching was necessary to share feelings.
Obi-Wan started to say something and stopped, blinking, as he took in the swirl of Anakin’s feelings. He straightened, fingers so cool on Anakin’s skin, gaze going thoughtful and then dark as he exhaled, “Oh. Oh, you....”
“Yes,” Anakin said, glad he’d intentionally worn a loose fitting shirt, one bought specifically for it’s low, swooping neckline, as Obi-Wan’s gaze dropped. He swallowed. “I do.”
Obi-Wan gently put the papers down, shifting towards him, his other hand stroking up Anakin’s arm, over his shoulder, thumb brushing over skin. His expression looked rapt. The intensity of it, all focused on Anakin, left him breathing faster, aching with want. Obi-Wan said, “But I could hurt you.”
It had hurt, a little. Being bitten. But - but not very much. Not nearly as much as it had felt good. And Anakin had liked knowing his blood was inside Obi-Wan, pumping through his veins. Even thinking of it gave him a pleased, shivery feeling. “No,” he said, voice lower and rougher than he intended, “you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. I trust you.”
Obi-Wan made a soft sound, grip tightening as he shifted forward, well into Anakin’s space, enough so that Anakin felt bold enough to put a hand on his hip. “I,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, gaze still fixed on Anakin’s throat. “I admit, I have wanted to - to try again.” Anakin swallowed a groan, barely. He should have worn looser pants, he realized, far too late to go back and change. “But I don’t want to impose on you. Or make you feel you had to do something--”
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, touched by the concern, but far too impatient to appreciate it properly. “Bite me. Please.”
He felt Obi-Wan shiver. “Alright,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin’s pulse jumped, anticipation unfurling through him. “But you should sit down.”
Anakin managed to look away from him enough to glance around the room. There was a chair - it did not look sturdy enough for both of them - and a bed. He felt bold enough to step back, keeping his hand on Obi-Wan, and to sit on the bed.
Obi-Wan stood before him for a moment, dark-eyed, looking Anakin up and down, before he licked his bottom lip. Anakin’s cock twitched in response, and, probably, he should have said something about that, too, but surely they’d done enough talking for one evening.
He tilted his head to the side, baring his throat, and Obi-Wan made a hungry noise, moving closer, one hand on Anakin’s shoulder, the other on the curve of his jaw, head ducking. He stopped, a breath away, and asked, “Are you sure?”
Anakin panted out, “Yes,” half-disbelieving that he was getting what he wanted, half-sure that someone would burst through the door and ruin things, or that he’d wake up, or--
Obi-Wan brushed a kiss across his throat - he hadn’t done that last time - and then there was the cool slide of his teeth and a sting of pain, fleeting, and Anakin bit his bottom lip, fighting not to groan the first time Obi-Wan swallowed.
It felt only natural to put hands on Obi-Wan, tugging him closer, and Obi-Wan, apparently, got more pliable while drinking. He sank forward, teeth shifting in Anakin’s neck as he put one knee on the bed and then the other, as Anakin pulled him down and closer.
It felt only natural for Anakin to sink back, an arm around Obi-Wan’s back to bring him along, so Obi-Wan sprawled over him, one forearm braced by Anakin’s head, his fingers still on Anakin’s cheek and jaw, cool and steady and firm, all the things Anakin felt anything but.
He ran hands down Obi-Wan’s sides, seemed unable to stop himself, fingers flexing at his hips. Obi-Wan stayed on his knees, over him, and Anakin fought the urge to tug him down, to pull their bodies flush together, to get some pressure against his aching cock, groaning - audibly, unable to stay quiet - as Obi-Wan made a thick, pleased sound.
He cried out, softly, when Obi-Wan lifted his mouth away, shifting up onto one hand and looking down, his expression some mix of pleasure and concern, his lips stained red with Anakin’s blood, Anakin’s blood that was inside him, moving through his veins and his heart, touching every part of him, filling him up, and--
“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, voice wrecked, hair falling forward into his face, as though he could not tell that Anakin felt more alright than perhaps he ever had in his life.
“Yes,” Anakin managed to rasp, aware he should probably put something over the bite, but - but it had stopped bleeding on its own last time. And he was having trouble caring about it, gazing up at Obi-Wan, aching with want, knowing the mind healers would tell him to talk about what he was feeling, what he wanted, but--
But he’d surely done enough talking, he thought, sliding one hand up Obi-Wan’s back, curling a grip around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and tugging him down. And the taste of his blood on Obi-Wan’s mouth made him groan, helplessly, even as he felt Obi-Wan startle against him, before melting, deliciously, down.
OOOOH WOW I just heard about tdick and the mere thought makes me go INSANE!!! WDYM THAT'S POSSIBLE???? WDYM I CAN HAVE THAT??? AAAAAAAAA I AM. SO ECSTATIC RN
Not to mention we are currently discussing possible endocrinologists for me and actually found one who speacializes in non binary transition care. AAAAAAA
