The most important meme of the week: sexting

[inuyasock]

the phone sex +
sexting meme

what it says on the tin. leave a blank comment, include your preferences or a starter, it's all good. reply to others with a text, a dirty picture (please link all nsfw things!), misfires, misdials, drunk filthy voicemails, whatever your heart desires.

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[satanism]

( it's enough and it's not. the way she falls apart in the tinny speaker of his top-of-the-line phone. it's not like Daniel doesn't come, for starters, with a few breathless mutters of her name — the fever pitch of her noises drowning him is more than enough to help silence the frustration and work his cock a few last pumps, spilling on the floor of the shower and spreading a slow stunted relief through him. or at least the concentration of his dick and general surrounding area, it doesn't spread all the way through him like it usually does. doesn't blur his thoughts beyond the satisfaction and her body, still just within reach. pliant to being pulled nearer or curling into him on her own, doesn't really matter because the end result is always the same.

it's like eating with a head cold so severe that most of the taste is distant, far away, a limited ghost of what it should be. maybe because it's just the sound, Daniel tells himself. if he saw her fingers working, if he could see the way her hips bucked against satisfaction, like she must fight for control of even letting herself come — maybe the balance of that would be enough. just hearing her climax is bittersweet because it lacks the heat of her body and the smell of her skin and that look on her face. blissful and entirely bare, and he's not talking about her naked body panting and slowly falling back from her high. her expression, unguarded, dimpled and sweet smiles, the slow way she reaches for him for a few kisses.

used to be by the time those kisses were over, she'd have knit herself back together. these days she spends longer without building herself back to presentable, like she doesn't see the point in pulling back on every inch of armor to laze in the sheets for a few blessed minutes before she's sneaking off to shower. and something about missing that — he can even hear the dissonance, somehow, as she clashes through a climax and then rallies so quickly. like it was a game she was keeping up with to keep his attention, instead of true desperation.

orgasms are harder without you. Daniel laughs, though it's not particularly warm. ) You could have fooled me, ( Daniel tells her, because it sure sounded like she was enjoying herself — until it was over. and somehow all the personal details she'd used to get there fade in the less-than-satisfying aftermath. he mildly considers the self-sabotage of suggesting phone sex doesn't work for them, though even if she did steal away just long enough to go through the motions like it was an obligation to keep his attention; it's still her, and it's still a moment stolen that's his, even if it turns a little on them at the end. )

I'll be back in a few days. ( he nearly says home, but that's silly. Daniel is home right now. he tilts on the faucet, letting the stains of him spent slink down the drain. it's not usually him that hits the showers immediately after sex, and yet somehow it feels like the only way to reset and face his parents for family dinner. as if he's not 35 and Emilie "missed her flight" and hasn't even made it in yet. ) I'm sure you'll last that long.

[versigny]

[ and just like that, his voice resumes a distance that seems as inevitable as waves coming fleeing the shore. the difference is that she's still relatively defenseless, curled up in an empty hotel bed that might comfortably support her weight but doesn't give her a beard to blindly nuzzle into, nor a broad waist to cling to. but even if self-pity is a welcoming well, her Tyrell vines keep Margaery from falling in easily enough. she closes her eyes and breathes out a slow smile, allowing the action to overtake everything else until some off-brand semblance of contentment is all she feels. it'll feel real soon enough, and easy for her to believe. ]

I will, [ amiably, because anything else she can express honestly right now will certainly be more cause for suspicion ] but it doesn't mean that I want to.

[ it only makes sense, she thinks distantly, that the aftermath of something so heated can be only so cold. it's the real price they pay, not the inconvenience of sending pictures and videos and waiting for reactions, or the warped voices that they have to craft carefully into their memories so the effect is more genuine.

but it doesn't stop her from at least trying, because that's who she is and no matter how much Daniel recedes from her, she's gotten far too much of a glimpse into his occasional kindnesses to do anything but hope she can coax him back to her shores. ]

I meant what I said. I know people usually don't believe what's said during sex, but... I think you know me well enough by now that it's not true for me.

[ it's all him, carving out her most honest moments by every drag of his fingertips, every time he curves his tongue against her clit, and all the moments their shared gazes bared more than just exposed skin and all the flushed red that colors them human. she fully expects a smart quip back, but she's already moving to get off of the bed, grabbing a robe on her way to the bathroom so she can feel cleaner even if she plans to stay in her room for a few more hours to properly play sick. ]

[satanism]

( it's moments like this Daniel is never entirely sure what Margaery is trying to accomplish. because it's just so hard for him to wrap his head around the concept of her wanting to establish a genuine connection between them, beyond sex. or more than just sex, more for the fact they could do things for each other that nobody else could. why point it out? it makes the absence colder, not fonder. the answer why she'd do it is so obvious, it really means she must have other motives. trying to convince him how much better they are together than any alternative so he won't fuck around is simply too on the nose for Margaery Tyrell. she'd try to convince him of that without the words, certainly. all the sex they had immediately after the marriage is proof enough of that.

so then why? it's the wrong lens anyway, unless she thinks she can appeal to his selfish nature that he won't want anyone else taking up his post. making her come harder, knowing exactly how to touch her, how to make her melt and writhe and tears spot at her eyes from a few strokes of his fingers or the slight hum under his tongue. he doesn't, of course, and Margaery likely knows that without him saying anything at all. he won't admit it, like it's something she'll ensnare him with. false sweetness and promises, only you for the obligation of him assuring the same.

what does it matter? it is only her, and it seems pathetic to admit it. taken with the wife he didn't want, fucked into compliance after all. miserable away from her and yet still chose to inform her of his trip home four hours before his flight so she'd have no opportunity to shuffle things around and attempt to go with him. he imagines for Margaery it's a matter of pride and social capital. just another wrinkle smoothed down to be as presentable as possible. a perfect marriage and a loyal husband, something most in their social strata couldn't boast. Daniel has never been inclined to be another obvious feather in her cap — admitting the things she does so easily feels like folding into her hands. Margaery wants him as a piece she can trust to move around her games, and he's been a pawn since he was born into a satanic curse. he's already a taken lackey, he won't kiss another ring when he finally has the opportunity to refuse to. he doesn't intend to give her the satisfaction of having him entirely under her control. )

Of course, darling, ( Daniel agrees mildly, which could read as sarcastic doubt but it isn't really. he really does think she means it. it's just unfortunate that she means it because he's her lot in life and she's determined to make the most of it and him. he sighs, scrubs a hand over his face and feels wearier now than when he'd laid down in the first place. he shouldn't have texted her to begin with. had a chuckle at her wedding day knickers and had a fucking nap, his mood would maybe be incrementally better. ) I need a shower, Margaery. I suspect we shouldn't tempt fate on how waterproof they make these things.

( Daniel is, as always, terrible at goodbyes. it's like he doesn't even know how to phrase them, never learned to say talk to you later or see you soon. or the i miss you too which has been caged in his throat since she said it, like an unconscious echo that was begging to be voiced. )

me never tagging u so this thread never ends but... 🎀💔?

[versigny]

[ it's her pride that stops her from calling him out. there's a very fine line between ambitious and desperate - thicker, if you're Olenna's granddaughter - and even now she feels she's skirted too close to the edge of the territory. push (the physical affection he can't so easily escape in their own bed) and pull (this moment now, where disconnecting is as easily as pressing a button); it's this thought that keeps her from feeling like she's giving in to the rejection that her husband specializes in. ]

Alright. [ gentle. one might say fond. ] I'll see you soon.

[ it's only later, when her bath is all set up, that Margaery allows herself to sink into the knowledge that their conversation had soured the moment she pressed harder on the emotional aspect of their connection - and how much it actually hurt.

but even the pain is welcome, as it's something new for her to study. a new scar for her to grow around and become stronger. after three husbands, love has finally caught up to her in the form of the most unattainable man it could pick - karma, probably, with interest. Renly, whom she loved as a friend but had not shed any real tears for. Joffrey. and Tommen, whose only crimes had been being Cersei's son and too young and sweet to grasp what was happening.

she breathes in the smell of essential oils, and breathes out her regret. ]