sickfcks - Tumblr blog

[sickfcks]

"You’re making a big deal out of nothing." / cora & jay 👿

jay   stops   his   words,   stops   the   motion   of   his   hand   too.   he   is.   he’s   making   a   big   deal   of   it   because   to   him   it   is   –   to   him,   knowing   cora   was   hanging   out   with   another   dude,   is   a   big   deal.   it’s   a   big   deal   because   crap   …   how   much   longer   could   he   do   it   ?   how   much   longer   could   he   pretend   without   the   words   slipping   ?   how   much   longer   can   jay   act   like   all   the   fucking   and   fighting   is   just   fucking   and   fighting   and   not   fucking   and   a   silent   scream   for   attention   ?   

❛   nothing.   of   course   it’s   fuckin’   nothing   when   you   hang   out   with   moxley   at   a   show   i   invited   you   to.   ❜   he   huffs.   hurt.   but   looks   away   –   keeps   that   part   isolated   from   her.   she   wouldn’t   get   it   anyway   because   …   in   truth,   he   doesn’t   think   they   get   each   other   at   all.   jay   doesn’t   get   her.   perhaps   he   would   never   get   why   this   …   they   –   why   it’s   not   enough   for   her.   ❛   i’m   taking   the   guest   room.   ❜   said   bitterly   as   he   pushes   back   from   the   table   they’d   shared   take   out   at   after   a   long   flight   from   whatever   city   back   to   orlando   –   a   place   that   isn’t   home   in   a   house   that,   maybe,   isn’t   his.   

[sickfcks]

maybe   he’s   dumb   for   it.   naive.   gullible   enough   to   give   cody   a   second   chance   after   …   getting   burned   once   before.   but   –   was   he   going   to   send   him   off   when   he’d   hoped   there’s   a   second   chance   for   them   ?   would   that   have   made   him   feel   any   better   ?   better   than   laying   wrapped   up   in   him   in   a   bed   that   isn’t   his   …   ❛   i’m   okay.   ❜   he   mumbles.   nods.   turns   in   the   embrace   of   strong   arms   to   change   a   spooning   position   into   facing   each   other.   dark   eyes   looking   back   at   light   blue   ones,   a   hand   finds   the   back   of   cody’s   head,   fingertips   pressing   against   his   skull   gently.   he   wishes   they   could   be   like   this   always.   that   there’d   be   no   messy   past,   no   broken   hearts.   no   doubt.   his   forehead   falls   against   his.   eyes   closed.   nerve   wracking   but   …   comforting   at   the   same   time.   ❛   do   you   have   to   go   soon   ?   ❜   at   which   he   pulls   himself   just   that   much   closer   as   if   he   fears   it   might   all   slip   from   his   hands   again.   

for a romantic starter . kota @sickfcks

an arm drapes around kota’s body, pulling him in close to his own with a gentle kiss pressed against his cheek on that pretty face. he’s being extra gentle for once, fingers constantly brushing up and down along bare skin to keep him reassured that he’s not going anywhere — definitely not leaving like the way he used to all those months ago. this feels different. both in a scary and a good way but he tries not to focus on that side of things. “ are you feeling okay? ”

[sickfcks]

"You’re making a big deal out of nothing." [Mox -> Roman]

he   chuckles   –    knows   the   other   isn’t   as   much   of   a   fan   of   his   birthday   as   roman   is.   he   never   asked   about   it   but   …   assumed   it   might   be   because   jon   never   really   got   to   celebrate   his   birthday   when   he   was   younger.   things   are   different   now.   their   life   is   different.   and   roman,   even   if   his   boyfriend   complains,   is   going   to   make   a   big   deal   of   his   birthday   every   years.   ❛   uh-hu.   ❜   as   he   walks   to   the   fridge   to   get   the   tray   of   birthday   muffins.   ❛   maybe   you’ll   change   your   mind   after   breakfast,   huh   ?   ❜   t he   baked   goods   with   the   ‘   happy   birthday   ‘   picks   are   sat   before   him   and   roman   looks   at   him   with   warm   eyes   when   he   reaches   out   to   run   a   hand   over   a   the   stubble   on   his   head,   then   leans   forward   to   leave   a   kiss   there   too.   ❛   i’ll   look   away   so   you   can   stop   pretending   you   hate   this.   ❜

[sickfcks]

[sickfcks]

[sickfcks]

he   feels   …   surprised   mostly.   willow   doubting   him   was   a   surprise,   yeah.   orange   pushes   hands   deeper   into   the   pockets   of   his   jeans   jacket,   shrugs   and   draws   his   gaze   away   where   he   hides   behind   sunglasses.   would   it   really   be   that   out   of   pocket   if   yet   another   friend   stopped   believing   him   ?   stopped   believing   in   him   ?   probably   not.   yet   …   wouldn’t   sting   any   less   if   it   were   true.   ❛   i   didn’t.   ❜   he   said   certainly.   ❛   i   wouldn’t   have   brought   it   up   if   i   wasn’t   sure.   ❜

@sickfcks continued from here.

There were a lot of things she could say about him, however him being a liar wasn’t one of those things. Out of everyone she was friends with, he had been the one to step up most for her — so why would he lie about what he had heard? Better yet why couldn’t she bring herself to believe it just yet?? “I didn’t mean it like that.” She quickly replied, apologetic eyes lingered. “I just meant, maybe you misheard her.” Of course deep down she knew it was true, after all it wouldn’t be the first time someone she thought was a close friend was talking trash behind her back.

[sickfcks]

there   was   a   time   when   he   could   count   the   grays   on   his   head   and   in   his   beard   on   one   hand.   these   days   ?   he   woke   up   with   a   couple   of   new   ones   every   days.   this   –   stuff   like   this,   was   partially   to   blame   for   it.   a   large   hand   comes   up,   palm   running   down   his   face,   fingertips   pinching   his   eyes   ;         not   because   of   the   sight,   not   because   of   the   blood.   perhaps,   because   of   the   lack   of   need   to   cut   the   guy   open   (   and   yet   he   can’t   even   argue   about   it   with   her,   prone   to   violence   more   often   than   not   too   …   )   –   ❛   babygirl   if   you   think   i’m   lookin’   anywhere   but   you   when   you’re   playing   with   a   knife   like   that   …   ❜   but   he   trails   off   at   the   groaning   of   the   wounded   guy.   ❛   so   what’s   the   next   question,   huh   ?   gonna   ask   him   if   he   wants   to   call   his   momma   ?   ❜

♡ (   𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 ' accepting   ) 💐 roman ／ @sickfcks

❛ i slipped ❜ shoulders shrug. shimmer of delicate gold blade dancing around her fingertips, sharp point pressing against the smooth fleshy pad of one, not enough to draw blood, yet a sharp pinch of contact, enough to remind her that she was tragically still alive and bored. ❛ he was in the way of my aim ❜ the second lie she's told in a matter of seconds. she's got a picture perfect aim and they both know it. doesn't matter anyway, nothing but a small flesh wound that a few stitches wouldn't fix. ❛ next question, because you're obviously looking at me like that for a REASON ❜

[sickfcks]

❛   if   only   traffic   would   do   that   …   ❜   liv   sighs   –   dramatically.   the   suspense   though   …   it   is   part   of   the   game,   part   of   the   thrill.   part   of   why   she   shifts   her   weight   and   presses   her   ass   a   little   closer   to   him,   in   a   small   motion   rubbing   against   him   through   his   suit.   truly,   traffic   and   a   crammed   car   wouldn’t   be   as   bad   as   they   were   if   they   all   left   the   venue   earlier.   by   now   the   streets   were   blocked   with   people   who   left   the   stadium   around   the   same   time   as   they   did   and   now   ?   now   she’s   leaning   her   head   to   the   side   to   lean   against   his.   ❛   i   hope   you   got   some   …   stamina   left.   your   match   tonight   was   so   brutal.   ugh.   ❜

he’s avoiding the gaze of anyone else in the car right now, eyes watching out the window while a smirk slowly tugs onto his lips at the sound of that voice so close to his ear. “ i like the sound of that ” words are just barely above a whisper, only enough for her to hear. his hand squeezes at her lower-back again, slowly moving down as much as he can without any lingering eyes catching on — this is a lot harder with a whole group around them but he doesn’t mind the tension one bit “ we need to hurry up then ”

[sickfcks]

he   is   a   lightweight.   no   matter   how   often   he   tried   to   prove   that   he   isn’t   …   he   is.   so   he   gave   up   on   trying   to   prove   and   accepted   it   as   what   it   is.   the   excessive   drinking,   the   wild   parties   –   they   aren’t   really   for   him   anyway.   those   first   few   months   in   tokyo,   when   he   had   moved   to   london   …   all   moments   when   the   rush   of   a   new   home,   a   big   city   had   gotten   to   him   and   ended   in   embarrassing   short   nights   with   his   stomach   turning   after   one   too   many   beers   and   even   more   embarrassing   hangovers   the   next   day.   perhaps,   at   heart,   he’d   always   just   be   that   guy   from   a   small   town   on   an   island   with   many   small   towns.   a   tranquil   life   between   sheep   and   mountains,   beaches   and   storms.   and   if   so   …   then   by   now   he’d   grown   out   of   trying   to   be   anything   else.

a   corona   and   one   tequila   shot   that   he’d   let   juice   talk   him   into   and   he’s   done   with   it.   the   thought   of   a   second   beer   dry   his   mouth,   causing   his   stomach   to   bubble.   nah.   this   is   enough.   the   slight   buzz   that’d   fade   before   leaving   this   party   …   more   than   enough.   jay   doesn’t   like   the   feeling   of   drunkenness,   doesn’t   like   the   lack   of   control.   doesn’t   like   losing   touch   with   himself   like   that.   so,   he   reaches   for   water   –   cooled   and   refreshing,   hopefully.   before   he   can   reach   it,   fingertips   brush   against   somebody   else’s   hand   and   when   he   turns   his   head   (   apologetic   smile   ready   on   his   lips   )   feels   even   more   out   of   place   than   he   does   half   the   time   amongst   his   colleagues.   

❛   yeah.   and   you’re   …   lottie,   right   ?   ❜   as   if   he   had   forgotten,   huh   ?   he   hadn’t.   their   introduction   brief   but   …   the   depth   of   her   eyes   something   like   a   deep   breath   taken   and   released   after   a   hoke   to   the   top   of   a   mountain.   relieving   in   the   most   primal   way.   the   type   of   comfort   he   forgets   to   feel   in   the   rush   that   his   life   became   since   signing   with   aew.   jay   reaches   for   the   water   bottle   to   undo   the   lid,   then   for   a   plastic   cup.   fills   it.   offers   it   to   her   before   pouring   himself   some   too.   ❛   not   a   fan   of   beer   ?   ❜ 

a   hand   comes   up   to   brush   back   a   few   strands   that   came   loose   from   his   half   up,   half   down   hairstyle.   in   a   room   full   of   people   (   drunk   and   drunker   people   )   he   feels   warm   in   the   suit   even   though   he   got   rid   of   the   jacket   already,   rolled   up   sleeves   of   a   white   button   down.   or   perhaps   …   his   skin   feels   hot   and   damp   when   they   look   back   at   each   other   because   he   doesn’t   really   want   to   head   back   to   the   table   where   the   lads   go   for   another   round   of   shots.   

a halfway plotted starter for @sickfcks

it   isn't   her   scene        –        after   work   parties   had   always   felt   like   showing   up   for   a   group   project   she'd   not   really   contributed   to;    but   there'd   been   an   insistence   she   come   tonight,    pleading   faces   of   a   few   of   the   girls   that   she   couldn't   quite   say   no   to.    so   lottie   had   come,    changed   out   of   her   scrubs   and   into   the   comfort   of   an   old   pair   of   jeans   and   a   white   t-shirt,    and   settled   herself   against   a   wall       –       a   pretty   little   wallflower,    doing   her   best   to   stave   off   any   further   interest   in   herself   with   her   silence. 

she'd   perfected   the   idea   of   it        –       that   she   was   pretty   but   uninteresting,    little   more   than   the   hired   nurse   their   boss   kept   around   to   make   sure   they   weren't   harming   themselves   more   than   they   should   have   been.    easier   to   not   explain   that   she'd   gotten   the   job   in   the   first   place   due   to   a   familial   connection   that'd   stemmed   back   a   few   decades,    that   nepotism   was   alive   and   well        –        even   if   she   was   good   at   her   job.    it   kept   things   calm,    ensured   her   peace;    ensured   she   didn't   ever   wake   up   to   a   litany   of   messages   from   her   parents   telling   her   she'd   further   embarrassed   their   good   name. 

but   she   could   only   pretend   to   be   sipping   on   the   beer   that'd   been   given   to   her   for   so   long        –        before   thirst   actually   kicked   in,    and   she   found   herself   lingering   away   from   her   post   and   closer   to   the   drinks   table.    fingers   wrapping   around   a   bottle   of   cooled   water   at   the   same   time   a   much   larger   hand   sought   to   seek   its   claim   upon   the   same   bottle,    delicate   fingertips   grazing   against   unknown   hand   in   a   soft   movement   before   her   wrist   retracts   and   large   blue   eyes   are   raising   to   find   the   man   attached   to   it. 

“   sorry,    go   ahead.   ”        spoken   with   a   smile,    expecting   to   see   someone   she   knows        –     expecting   for   it   to   be   anyone   she's   moderately   more   familiar   with   than   the   reality.    “   .   .   .        jay,       right?   ”        a   hastily   given   introduction   earlier   on   in   the   night,    but   lottie   was   certain   that'd   been   the   name   he'd   offered. 

[sickfcks]

[sickfcks]

Roman Reigns is everything they say he is. He is everything he is cracked up to be. 

[sickfcks]

he   isn’t   looking   at   himself   –   has   seen   black   curls   gone   wild   and   loose   from   where   they   were   tied   to   a   bun   at   the   nape   of   his   neck   earlier   and   has   seen   enough   with   that.   this   …   it’s   about   her.   about   watching   the   tension   with   which   she   clings   to   control   day   by   day   slip   and   fall   one   by   one,   thrust   by   thrust.   if   not   for   the   secure   grip   on   her,   perhaps   boston’s   shaking   thighs   would   have   given   out   by   now   –   an   arm   across   her   torso,   large   palm   covering   one   half   of   her   chest.   

roman   feels   it,   feels   his   cock   getting   clenched   around   each   time   that   he   drives   forward   even   though   he   barely   pulled   out   …   making   sure   she   feels   all   of   him   now   that   she’s   riding   so   close   to   the   edge.   grunts,   groans,   shamelessly,   so   close   to   her   ear   and   keeps   dark,   possessive   eyes   on   her   through   the   mirror   before   them.   he’s   not   done   with   her.   they’re   not   done   with   each   other.   

♡ (   𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔 ' accepting   ) 💐 roman ／ @sickfcks

circle of condensation, hot exhale of breath had previously met glass with her own dishevelled reflection little more than a blur. might have even been a smudge of lipstick against the sheen surface. it's sordid, dirty, the accumulation of him once again thinking her words fell with a nagging tone. lust and tension was the nature of the beast.

words failed to leave the gap between parted lips, lungs fighting for air between pants, gasps, sweet nothings of pure sin. arms locked with his, tugged backwards each time her back DARED to lull forwards from the sweat glazed expanse of his tattooed chest. ❛ i ... ❜ exclamation of oncoming orgasm little more than an angelic squeal by the time it reached the tip of her tongue, body alight, limbs aching, wave of please like an oncoming tidal wave.

[ mirror ] our muses have sex in front of a mirror

[sickfcks]

he   feels   out   of   place   when   he   is   here.   even   though   he   understands   more   now,   understands   most   of   what   people   say   around   him   in   a   language   that   isn't   his   mother   tongue   …   he   still   feels   out   of   place.   knows   he   doesn’t   belong   here,   doesn’t   go   here.   it’s   not   like   many   made   an   effort   to   make   him   feel   differently   but   –   kota   is   trying   to   be   okay   with   it   for   the   sake   of   cody.   he   could   suck   up   a   night   of   quietness   in   a   place   full   of   people   every   now   and   then.   could   bear   coming   back   here   years   after   the   few   times   he   wrestled   in   a   wwe   ring.   the   grief   of   failing   to   set   foot   here   had   passed   so   long   ago   …   it’s   a   small   price   to   pay   now   that   he’s   holding   his   boyfriend   closely   to   his   chest,   a   hand   running   over   stubbly   bleached   hair,   tip   of   his   nose   pressed   against   his   temple.   ❛   all   okay   ?   ❜   kota   lowers   his   voice,   not   letting   go   regardless   of   eyes   on   them.   

summerslam based starter for @sickfcks ( kota )

beaten and bruised after the match, cody quickly makes his way for kota, a little more eager than usual to find him for support. tonight feels a little bit different than usual. like there’s a weight on his shoulders or something stupid like that. he’s not all that good when it comes to talking about things out loud and instead he just wraps his arms around kota the moment he finds him. he’s cody’s support system in a way like no other, years and years after all of that trouble they’d been through and now he was able to be a little more real infront of him rather than playing pretend

[sickfcks]

he   holds   him   there   for   a   moment.   close   to   his   chest.   a   silent   reminder   that,   regardless   of   what   happened,   roman   has   not   given   up   on   him.   hopes   he   never   will   …   there   is   a   brief   moment   when   he   wants   to   argue   about   brushing   teeth   but   –   he   lets   it   go.   enough   has   happened   for   a   night.   jon   trots   to   the   bed,   sleeps   so   soon   that   he   probably   doesn’t   notice   roman   helping   him   out   of   boots,   helping   him   out   of   denim   which   would   feel   stiff   against   his   skin   in   the   morning.   maybe   he   doesn’t   notice   a   blanket   being   pulled   over   him.   doesn’t   feel   the   touch   of   lips   to   the   side   of   his   head.   but   it   is   all   there.   it   is   all   there   before   roman   goes   to   ready   himself   for   sleep.

he   wakes   with   traces   of   a   headache   –   blames   it   on   dehydration   and   dreams   that   kept   his   sleep   light.   bones   feel   heavy,   so   heavy   that   for   a   moment   (   before   clarity   gets   him   )   he   doesn’t   remember   the   shattered   lamp   and   the   not   hopefully   not   so   drunk   boyfriend   next   to   him.   instead,   under   the   fabric   of   a   blanket   that   isn’t   theirs,   feels   for   jon’s   hand.   intertwines   their   fingers.   perhaps   a   couple   of   more   minutes   of   this   before   facing   the   day   …    he   misses   him.   fuck.   roman   misses   his   man   and   feels   himself   slipping   into   consciousness   further   the   more   he   wonder   what   it   would   take   to   rescue   him   …

This wasn't suppose to be how things go when they finally get time together between opposite schedules. He let the demons of his divorce and talks of getting custody possibly taken away if he didn't get the drinking under control. Thing is, Renee helped get him sober as well as Nora- but to get hit with a divorce afterwards really through him for a loop. One that Joe had to be included in unfortunately. He's one lucky son of a bitch and sooner or later this man would see what a lost cause he is.

A small squeeze to his knee made tired, wet and glazed over blues meet his lovers handsome face. Soft, unlike a little while ago and he nodded. Mox didn't know how to apologize without hurting himself or others in the process. Usually bad with words in general if it didn't have anything to do with wrestling. When Joe told him to get rest, he held onto the Samoan before standing and wobbly making it to their bed. Course he's right- tonight was way past over. Hours ago, honestly. As soon as Jon's face hit the pillow he's out like a light with exhaustion. One leg hanging off the bed in the process, hand too. Tomorrow would be a new day of making it up to the slightly older stud.

[sickfcks]

when   cody   enters   her   personal   space,   she   is   all   instinct   and   no   thinking.   her   arms   find   their   way   around   his   neck,   renee   pulls   herself   flush   against   him   –   chest   to   chest,   belly   to   belly.   eyes   flutter   close   when   his   lips   touch   hers.   renee   can   hear   her   own   heartbeat   in   her   ears,   her   chest   so   full,   head   light   and   …   and   she   melts   right   into   him   as   if   they   have   done   this   a   million   times   before.   as   if   she’s   been   caught   between   a   locker   room   door   and   cody   a   million   times   before   and   right   then   and   there   wishes,   hopes   even   ;         that   she’ll   find   herself   here   another   million   times.   a   curious   tongue   rolls   forward,   tries   to   taste   him   where   she   presses   against   lips   first,   then   another   tongue.   fingertips   in   the   blonde   of   his   hair–   holding   on   and   perhaps   …   pulling   on   the   strands   just   a   little.   

he finds it nearly impossible to resist her. one look is all that it takes to get him weak in the knees, taking her hand without question and eagerly following along into the free lockerroom. there isn’t much guilt behind it, he’s so blind to it, completely devoted to her for the moment that it is whether it’s a one time thing or permanent .

once they actually made it inside he’s staring at her with a different look in his eyes, breath hitching in his throat at how utterly beautiful he finds her. “ all you had to do was ask ” there’s a rush behind the thrill that he never thought he’d feel before. the subtle glances in the hallway did that for him every other week but this ? this was a different kind of risk that made it so much more addicting. with one long stride he’s stepping in-front of renee, hands moving down to her waist with a gentle push against the door. his lips are against her own in seconds with a heated, needy kiss, one he’d wanted to do for days.

[sickfcks]

it’s   pathetic   in   a   way   that   he   picks   a   fight   with   a   twenty   something   year   old   chick   for   the   sake   of   …   what   ?   getting   her   attention   ?   her   attention   to   piss   of   another   man–   right   ?   or   …   perhaps   her   attention   because   cora   is   hot   and   between   the   teasing   and   the   insulting   and   the   bickering   and   the   fighting–   she’s   got   a   way   to   make   his   stomach   feel   heavy   with   desire.   not   just   erotically,   nah.   as   intriguing   as   it   is   …   seth   thinks   about   it.   thinks   about   owning   her,   about   possessing   her.   obsessive   thoughts   ;      boiling   and   cooking.   a   fool   he   is   for   having   thought   he   grew   out   of   that   phase,   grew   out   of   the   violent   desire   he   feels   when   he   sees   what   he   likes.   

perhaps   he   is   lucky   nobody   saw   them   slipping   away   (   nobody   would   expect   them   to   slip   away   together   probably   )   and   perhaps   he   is   lucky   when   he   falls   back   onto   bed   sheets   of   an   expensive   hotel   room   with   a   hot   emo   chick   (   no   need   to   remind   him   of   his   age   for   that   name   he   chose   )   grinding   against   his   cock,   tits   on   full   display.   lucky,   huh   ?   had   he   not   thought   about   this   once   too   often   since   the   last   time   it   happened   …

❛   you   want   a   piece   –   got   to   play   your   cards   right.   ❜   though   there   was   no   deck   to   play   at   all   ;         a   large   hand   long   tangled   in   black   and   purple   strands   to   yank   on   her   mob   of   hair   to   force   her   head   back   into   her   neck   some.   ❛   sit   on   my   face   then,   we’ll   see   just   how   much   you   hate   this   mouth.   ❜

usfw prompts , less cringy edition ; accepting.

@sickfcks said : [ PUSH ] sender pushes receiver onto bed + reverse , for cora and seth .

his   very   presence   grates   at   her   being,    the   way   he   carries   himself   an   affront   to   her        –        a   sickening   display,    considering   just   how   very   much   so   he's   her   type.    considering   just   how   much   so   with   every   action   she   should   want   to   find   herself   running   for   the   hills   for   only   draws   her   in   deeper.    red   flags   were   many   on   both   sides,    and   yet   here   they   were   again,    seth   pushing   and   prodding   at   her   until   the   levee   broke,    and   black   nails   curl   around   his   wrist,    digging   stiletto   points   into   the   flesh   as   she   steadies   him   with   a   gaze. 

“enough.” 

all   fun   and   games   until   cora   got   her   feelings   a   little   too   hurt,    a   little   too   much   like   punk   to   allow   the   game   to   go   on   for   too   long   before   she   was   tired   of   his   antics   and   more   interested   in   his   actions.    warn   brown   eyes   flicker   over   his   shoulder   to   the   large   bed,    untouched   and   made   pristine        –        a   devilish   curl   of   lips   as   she   loosens   her   hold   on   his   wrist   to   plant   a   rough,       forceful   shove   to   his   shoulders   to   send   him   wheeling   back   to   the   mattress.        once,       twice,       three   times.       until   he's   flush   against   the   comforter,    and   cora   can   toe   out   of   her   converse   just   quick   enough   to   slink   on   top   of   him   and   pin   his   wrists   to   either   side   of   his   head,    pressing   her   ass   down   to   his   groin. 

“i'm   tired   of   hearing   you   talk.    do   something   more   productive   with   your   mouth.” 

no   option   given,    she   releases   one   of   his   wrists   to   curl   her   own   hand   underneath   the   scraps   of   fabric   she   calls   a   shirt,    peeling   it   from   her   frame   to   toss   to   the   floor,    leaning   down   to   press   heaving   chest   closer   to   him   as   her   hips   set   a   gentle   rolling   pace   against   him   through   their   clothes.

[sickfcks]

— YOUR AFFECTION.

Gestures  of  affection  starters.  Can  be  platonic  and  romantic.  Send  me... (Send  🔄  +  any  emoji  to  reverse  the  outcome.)

💓  to  listen  to  my  muse's  heartbeat. 💏  to  softly  kiss  my  muse's  forehead. 💋  to  kiss  my  muse  on  the  lips. 🤭  to  caress  my  muse's  cheek. 🌸  to  offer  my  muse  a  flower. 💅  to  paint  my  muse's  nails. 💗  to  lean  against  my  muse. 💝  to  wrap  an  arm  around  my  muse. 🤗  to  hug  my  muse  from  behind. 🫂  to  pick  my  muse  up  and  twirl  them  around. 👰  to  hold  my  muse  bridal  style. 🤝  to  hold  my  muse's  hand. 🥞  to  bring  my  muse  breakfast  in  bed. 🤜  to  give  my  muse  a  noogie. 🤏  to  tickle  my  muse. 😋  to  give  my  muse  their  favorite  snack.