NSFW side-blog of airxn. Read rules & about before interaction.
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can i bite you
only if it's gay and you promise to be weird about it
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" I just need someone to blow a puff of smoke in my face. That'll put me on my knees instantly. "
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smoking is bad. unless yuo do it for gay sex reasons. then its good
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"I like your eyes"
Bro just tell me you want me to look up at you from between your legs
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it's not a red string of fate those two are bound by dog collars and a steel chain
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being called a good boy as they fuck my brains out would fix me tbh
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"serenade me with your peenorse"
Pantless– his whole cock and balls hanging out completely flaccid, there's a pair of sunglasses at his base in his massive bush. Hands on his hips, he begins slapping it back and forth against his thighs. The slaps are in beat to whatever cheerful tune he's humming for Cand.
" –Tequila! "
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you know what i crave– the silly little talks during the afterglow, laying there drenched in sweat and just talking about life before doing aftercare. the innocent taking a bath / shower, or ordering pizza, etc. just the little giggles after sex, okay? okay...
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evading tumblr censor at 10pm i got my knife 🔪
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@flamboycnt inquired – ❛ you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me. ❜
Their hands press against cool stone– Ghirahim's fingers firmly but lovingly force Airin to stand in place. The blond can't hear the rushing waterfall beyond his husband's heated breath and sultry voice. He's heard it many times before– the spot they always ran off to when they thought Ghirahim's army wasn't paying attention; or when things got too heated in the spirit's tent.
A bygone era, yet even now as they innocently passed their old spot... it was like instinct for the both of them.
Airin's own nails clench against his stomach, and he feels the spirit press his palm deeper against his flesh in teasing retaliation. ' –fucking made for me. ' He can feel Ghirahim inside of him. With each slow, powerful antagonizing thrust he almost feels like a heartbeat. Yet the tension and heat grow nearly unbearable, but he doesn't dare thrust back against him.
The spirit's stance is keeping them from slipping on the weathered stone. Any form of retaliation might mean actual pain. An accidental clumisness that might end their little romp. Thus, Airin is completely at his mercy. He can only whimper with each calculated thrust– how deep is he willing to go?
Airin hisses into a deeper moan. The strain nearly mutes his purring, but his long lashes flutter open; watching a drip of sweat fall off of them. He squeezes their hands against the stone as it's the only rebuttal he can do. " ...Then fucking prove it. "
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i need to manifest that someday someones muse will nickname airin little rabbit or bunny because haha yknow
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