#why do they kind of look alike
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fallowme · 8 months ago
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Someone probably pointed it out already, but I can't stop thinking about it. Chuuya was holding himself for so long...
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Also soukoku was literally confirmed after this /j
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thelioncourts · 1 month ago
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milleeeeeee · 2 years ago
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why does oscar wild give me snape vibes?
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kind just thought he looked like an old man with grey beard or summat
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west-tokyo-incidents · 1 year ago
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look, furry stuff
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liinos · 2 years ago
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idk what twt stan needs to hear this but "jyp's alice in borderland line" really do not look that much like the characters like... at all😭
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diari0deglierrori · 2 years ago
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Me when someone tells me T*n*n*i is ugly
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inazuma-fulgur · 13 days ago
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I will also defend trans men here, I see vitriol about both just by different people.
Men, and women keeping proximity to men in media/political circles, target trans women for being predators and for mutilating themselves
Same for trans men actually, just by women and men keeping a proximity to those women. This one is a little weird though, because trans men post transition are predators and trans men pre transition are always victims who are tricked into mutilating themselves.
This isn't just on tv, this is stuff my neighbors and coworkers tell me. Austensibly, in my experience, cis women are negative towards trans men and largely neutral or positive towards trans women, whereass cis men are negative towards both
Non binary people don't even exist because they don't touch on the framework people use to understand themselves, so they can just be denied and don't require any arguments beyond "lmao silly"
#I had written this as a response to someones post. not a reblog a comment#but I decided it's worth getting misunderstood and/or starting a fight.#so instead I think it works better as a standalone post. I don't like how most every trans inclusive discussion on tumblr seems to be#about differences between us. y'all#being trans is about the fact that our differences aren't real. even the superficial ones are up for debate.#cuz your voice can do amazing things and generally men and women look mostly quite alike#why split us again. why play the oppression i#olympics instead of working on understanding each other and making ourselves understandable?#if you keep pointing at the differences you perceive - especially if you actively blame them on the other - you'll exacerbate the difference#someone will question whether this is theirs. and if they reject they will reject you for speaking ill of them and others in a broad#generalized sense and not take you seriously#if they do accept it but they can't find a way to work on themselves - either because it isn't given or because it's not a real issue - they#will reject you and be hostile for your perceived hostility. do you see how you're hurting yourself?#and yeah biggest exist already that will fall into one of those two camps and you feel like you're talking to them. okay yeah that's true#but does it matter? you make people that don't belong to the bigots find solace in the bigots argument because you aligned yourself against#them in a way that can be weaponized. you said dumb shit and someone will take advantage of that.#whoever is wrongly affected by what you said doesn't realize they're siding with bigots. bigots don't always make radical ridiculous#which is why they're so dangerous. they say something quite reasonable looking given a certain context and then moon logic.#don't give them the set up for the moon logic. make them self destruct right from the start#and don't turn allies into foes just because you don't want to accept their allyship#anyways I don't take tumblr discourse serious. but I say this because aggressively unfollowing people with stupid rhetoric hasn't fixed me#seeing this. i still see it get reblogged by accounts that have zero connection towards this kind of rhetoric or usually even oppose it#I see it blazed too. generally I only see garbage from blaze but I also see quite untrue claims about what can and can't be blazed.#everything can be blazed regardless of staffs transphobia. even if it may be harder. the stuff that does successfully pass and gets blazed#may just not be the pro trans statement you perceived it as when you tried to get it blazed... think about it
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bmpmp3 · 7 months ago
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i NEEED to be more annoying about being mixed race in public i keep forgetting how dire it is. sometimes i point out stuff in like visual culture classes about like a magazine cover with a biracial model or something and it blows peoples MINDS because the whole class forgot mixed people were real
#sometimes im like nooooo i shouldnt be too loud about it people find it annoyinggggg sometimes#but then i remember. if i dont. my white peers. i love them i do they're ready to learn and they do a lot of thinking#once you point stuff out. but by god you need to point this stuff out first LOL classmates put a lot of care and thought into all kinds of#issues but HOO baby. race is a BIG blind spot for a lot of em hfkjdjdkfh#i just get surprised is all. i didnt realize how little the average non-mixed-race person thinks about this stuff#i like to call myself whiteboy. because i think thats funny. its my internal monologue. but also i am not actually whiteboy#and i forget the real whiteboys (gender neutral?) dont know much about mixed issues hjskasjfkd#oh speaking of i guess as a quick primer: i should probably mention. i tend to call myself mixed race#just the terminology i grew up with. but in most professional and academic settings i'll use biracial or multiracial where applicable#or when referring to people who are not myself or someone i know prefers the term mixed#i dont know why i like the term mixed. maybe its just easier to say and explain LOL but yeah#not everyone likes the term mixed race so its usually better to call someone biracial or multiracial if you dont know#multiracial identities are vast and can be vastly different. one persons experience is much different from anothers#my experience is different from my older brothers and we have the same parents and look pretty alike#and our experiences are different from like. my biracial cousin who grew up in the US#and all of us have different experiences than the only other multiracial classmate ive had in years#really the best thing is to read stuff written by multiracial people. books articles blogs. watch video content#theres a lot to learn constantly even if youre multiracial yourself! lots of people on this earth. but it can be fun!#interesting and fun to connect with others by listening to their stories and experiences!
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fushitoru · 1 month ago
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so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot
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pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader
summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.
warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(
next. week two
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
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you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick. 
you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is. 
so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.
you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.  
picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”
there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”
“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.
feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.
shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.
but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.
“what’s your favorite scary movie?”
a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"
“you got a boyfriend?”
“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”
“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”
the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"
a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”
that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”
“so i know who i’m looking at.”
the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”
a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”
your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”
but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”
the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.
for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.” 
 “then gimme a show. follow what i say.”
“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?
“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.
“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”
you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.
“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.” 
you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.
“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.
 “fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”
“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!” 
the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”
slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”
“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”
you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.
“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”
“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.” 
the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”
“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”
as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.
you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”
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“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”
“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.
 “fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him. 
you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”
he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back. 
“you like my cock, baby?”  he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”
“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s. 
“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”
you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.” 
you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down. 
he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”
you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.
“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.
his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.
you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”
ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.
“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.
you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.
“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”
ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.
“ryo, where are you going?”
“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries. 
“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?” 
later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.
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next. week two
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!
taglist:
@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae
@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto
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harmoonix · 3 months ago
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🦢 нєανєη 🦢
Astrology Observations by harmoonix
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🦢 - Mars in Leo/Cancer/Gemini/Virgo can easily feel under pressure when they're stressed, they can feel like the world is ending!!
🦢 - Mars in Libra/Mars in the 7H are so complicated. Finding the peace and the harmony within your romantic relationships can be stressful
🦢 - Gemini Saturn/Virgo Saturn/3H Saturn/6H Saturn are possible anxious places for Saturn! They're so heart-warming, though!! At some point every anxiety attack will end
🦢 - If you have malefics in your 11H like Saturn, Pluto, or Mars, if you have friends that talk bad/shit about their other friends, be sure they talk the same to them about you!! Is so predictable!
🦢 - Cher has a Gemini Venus that makes her look young even though she is 78. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LIFE AFTER LOVE ???
🦢 - Your 2H can talk about your metabolism!! Since it is heavily associated with food! For example, a fire sign in the 2H can talk about a fast metabolism
🦢 - Having Sagittarius in your 2H or 2H ruler in the 9H, it can make you proud of your traditional/cultural food!!
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🦢 - Leo Placements have a dark side like all of the other zodiac signs, because they're always in the spotlight. It is quite hard to know how they feel or if they fake their feelings. Not everyone knows how they feel behind close doors
🦢 - Sagittarius/Scorpio and Aries Mars can have a bad temper at times, some even anger issues, and is because Mars gets crazy in those placements
🦢 - If you have your south node in the 9H/Sagittarius, the school or some educational institution can get stuck in your memories/past forerver
🦢 - Jupiter aspecting Moon makes someone to radiate kindness! That person you wanna protect from bad people
🦢 Pluto - Mercury aspects can make someone have a deep voice indeed, which is also that typo of person to their voice hoarse most times
🦢 - Venus in Cancer/4° 16° 28°/4H Venus will make someone love you so passionately! They will build a castle inside your heart
🦢 - I feel like Capricorn Placements are always the ones to stress/overthink about the future 🙁, there is always something 'What if that will happen'
🦢 - Venus/Moon in your 9H can make your relationships/marriages blessed! Is a very beneficial house for those planets
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🦢 - Mercury in air signs have a specific way of communicating! It can be a fast reply to your messages, instant calling, using a lot of gestures while talking!
🦢 - If you have Sagittarius Mercury/Mercury in the 9H, you probably have a very good type of humor! Makes everyone to laugh
🦢 - Pisces Mercury and the 12H mercury are also people with good humor! I honestly appreciate their energy
🦢 - Can someone tell me why like Cancer and Capricorn Saturn BOTH give a very nurturing energy?? Is like I connect with mother nature
🦢 - Libra Placements are honestly precious! They appreciate the beauty of everything! They can find beauty even in bad things
🦢 - I have no major Saturn - Venus aspects, but I have quincunx instead, which can be manifested as such sad energy because you basically don't feel anything at times
🦢 - Lilith and Sun aspects are the symbol of a black diamond! Always shining after all they have been through
🦢 - If you have major 6H placements especially Pluto in the 6H, your health both mentally and physically is VITAL. Always prioritize that!!
Replying to your ex: No
Prioritizing your mental health: Yes
🦢 - If one of your parents have their sun in the same sign as your rising you can look a lot alike! Is honestly one one if the best combos to share with your parents
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🦢 - Venus conjunct south node but also Libra south node gives me the vibe of a widow in a past life, someone who could've have suffered in love
🦢 - If your 3H is connected with the 11H you can be best friends with your siblings, if your 3H is connected with the 9H you tend to be best friends with your cousins
🦢 - Saturn/Neptune/Mars and Pluto in the 12H need proper sleeping if they're usually tired is a sign to just relax and take a nap
🦢 - Venus in the same house as your Mars can make you addicted to topics like art, music, sex, history, and even culture
🦢 - Mars in harsh aspects with Venus tend to flirt more than the good aspects, because Mars here is looking for competition
🦢 - Virgo Venus and Venus at 6° 18° can be picky with their partners, they can also have multiple types of people as their crush
🦢 - If you have got your 4H connected to the 7H your family can help you with getting into a relationship
🦢 - Jupiter in harsh aspects to Pluto tend to force their beliefs/religion/habits into others, something even without realizing
🦢 - Uranus in your 4H or Aquarius in the 4H can talk about your family can have quite unique habits, is like your family is different from the rest of the world because something makes them to just stand out
🦢 - People who have Sun in their 4H or IC at 5° 17° or 29° can really be known because of their family, is giving popular family
🦢 - Earth Signs over the 8H can be very private about their intimate lives and their sexual life
🦢 - Mercury aspecting Moon can make the native so empathic emotionally, you can understand everyone's feelings usually they're soft at heart
🦢 - Mercury in the 12H can be attracted into things that seem 'undiscovered, or unknown', they're always curious about things they dont have much info about
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🤍🤍🤍🤍 harmoonix
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bbokicidal · 4 months ago
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Not A Want, But A Need - Perv!SKZ
A small series of Perv!SKZ Headcanons
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Pairing: OT8 x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Sexual behavior (MDNI), Perverted behavior (obviously), panty stealing, up the skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom!Seungmin (oops)
Chris :
Chris likes to consider himself a gentleman. He's respectful, responsible, kind to women and men alike - treats everyone with polite gestures -
But he really can't hold himself back when you wear that little pink dress that hugs your ass so right.
He swears he'll delete them later but he never does, taking quick pictures up the skirt of your dress when he stands behind you in the elevator.
You know why he never deletes them? Because he uses them as soon as he gets home - sometimes in the company bathroom if he really can't wait that long. Tugging his cock and whimpering as he bites down on the fabric of his shirt, staring through lidded eyes at the picture of your lacy black panties.
God, he's obsessed.
Minho :
He's going to have you sitting in his lap as often as possible. You're one of his best friends - who started as a backup dancer for the group - and he knows nobody finds it too suspicious that he has you in his lap often.
The worst they can think is that he's romantically interested in you - which, maybe he is.
But he really just wants you there so he can feel the way your ass pushes down against his cock in his sweats. He's in love with the feeling and if you move just right his head will roll back and his eyes will roll with them, slipping shut at the pushing right up against his length.
After he figures out just how much he likes having you in his lap, he'll keep his hands on your hips often as well. Even when just standing next to you - maybe one occasion letting his hand drag over your ass on 'accident.'
Changbin :
There's little shame on his part.
He loves to stare at your tits.
He starts inviting you to the gym just so he can see how they bulge in your sports bra and push at the seams, the soft skin bubbling and making him want to touch so badly. And maybe he does on occasion, letting his hands brush the underside of your chest while you're doing box squats.
He swears he's just helping you with your form - you need to arch your back a little more. Push your chest into his waiting hands. Please. For him?
Hyunjin :
He's very sly with it.
He's so, so very sly with the way he steals your panties.
That precious white pair with the cherries on them were the first he knew he needed to have, shoving them into his pocket after you'd gone to the bathroom and given him at least three minutes of free time to roam around your room.
The lace pair he saw a peek of when you sat down at a party once were next.
And he won't return them. Not when they're covered in his cum and he'd feel dirty giving them back to you that way.
And washing them would get rid of your scent. So... He'll just keep them.
Jisung :
He's the only member who's a bit shy about his actions.
He feels wrong about it but he needs it so badly.
He just loves your hands so much. Touch him a little more, yeah?
He'll do things like sit too close so your hands will brush his thigh when you talk and move them around - or stand up abruptly beside you so that your hand will bump his hips.
Or he'll just straight up hold your hands whenever he can, refusing to let go until they're down near his hips and your knuckles brush his zipper as he drops his hold on you. It's always subtle - but definitely there.
Oh, and of course later he'll picture your pretty hands jerking him off instead of his own. He's embarrassed about it but he'll look at photos he's got of you two together as well - zooming in on your rings and bracelets to better picture how you'd look between his thighs and holding onto him.
Felix :
The most cocky mf.
He's the type to rest his hand on your thigh as much as he possibly can. At first it's gentle rubbing of his thumb or a brush of his knuckles here and there,
But then it's him squeezing the supple skin under his ringed fingers as he chats with you or others. His actions are all but second nature now, but he's definitely chubbing up in his jeans just at the feeling of your thighs under his palms.
If he's feeling real bold (or a little tipsy), he'll slap your thighs or maybe - if you're really lucky - bite them to leave little teeth marks.
He'd do anything to have them pressed around his head while he eats you out, but he knows right now it's only a dream. So instead he'll just keep his subtle touches and rubs going until that day comes.
Seungmin :
So sly about it but also extremely bold and straightforward.
He passes it off as playful fighting.
The type to slap - Yes, I said slap. - your tits and ass whenever you pass by him or are bugging him. He's use to you slapping his arms or chest and laughing in annoyance at his antics, so he thought he could get away with doing the same to you. And he was right.
It's perceived as play fighting and just two best friends fucking around with each other - but he's secretly getting so hard it hurts in his jeans at the way your tits and ass jiggle when he hits them.
On a couple occasions he's taken sneaky videos of him slapping your ass while you walk together so he had it for later use.
And of course there were the few select times he full on spanked you while the two of you were bickering.
Jeongin :
Shy about it - but if he's all dressed up or just performed or the likes - he's a looooot more bold.
Jeongin won't admit it out loud, but he likes your lips. A lot.
He has so many pictures of the two of you together just because he loves the way you purse your lips all cute-like.
And he's grown a habit of touching them, too. Wiping sauce off of them when you eat meals together, brushing off crumbs or even just shushing you with his index against your bottom lip so you hush up all pretty. (And he loves seeing you obey.)
And he'll never forget the time he was drinking with you and when he shushed you, you took his finger into your mouth to suck over it. He'll cherish that memory forever - the way his cock tented in his sweats and he had to go to the restroom to jerk off so hard it hurt. He's never come so fast in his life.
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werecreature-addicted · 6 months ago
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Imagine an alliance between 2 tribes, the werewolves and the humans, lately there have been many disputes and grudges between the two tribes, so they planned an alliance, a marriage, the daughter of the leader of the humans should marry the leader of the opposing tribe, a young werewolf with the desire to start a beautiful family
He coughs trying to calm his heart as he imagines the great difference in size between the two and the good sex they would have COF COF
You were ready to do whatever it took to keep your people safe, and if marrying the Alpha of the werewolves to keep the peace, so be it. Really this was a good thing, it would double the land your people had access to, double the resources and riches, not to mention werewolves had proven to be formidable adversaries, and they were sure to make invaluable allies. so why were you shaking? why were you so scared? this was clearly the right thing to do for you and the people you served.
You supposed the fear was natural. you'd spent almost all of your adult life fighting these monsters. almost dying to their sharp claws and vicious teeth. it would probably be a while before you stopped seeing all werewolves as a monolithic enemy. Although, you already knew all werewolves weren't bad. When you were a child you would sneak away into the woods and play with a werewolf pup around your age. Now looking back you cringe thinking about how dangerous that was, no doubt one of you would have been killed if either of you had been caught. Still, he'd been sweet, if one werewolf child could be kind, couldn't they all be?
Your wedding was hardly even a ceremony. Guards on both sides lined the walls of the office, fully armed and tense, ready to strike if something should go wrong. you smiled tensely at your husband-to-be as you signed the paperwork officially making you a married couple, he did not smile back. The marriage license meant almost nothing to him, werewolves sealed their romantic ties in a different way.
Every human in the room goes stiff as the werewolf alpha tilts your head to the side, cupping your jaw with one hand and pulling the collar of your shirt to the side with the other. your heart races and you try to be pliant in his hands, but your mind is flooded with your memories from battle. how many times have you been bitten by a werewolf? how many times had you felt the searing pain of their bear trap-like jaws clamping down on you, crushing your armor, and tearing your skin? he bites you just as you start hyperventilating. You scream. he's killing you, he's going to rip your throat out this was all a trap, you're going to die.
He lets go of you and you collapse, your legs shaking too badly to keep you up, The werewolf pulls you back into your arms, licking at the wound he just left, you struggle, still panicked. "sorry, I know it hurt, humans are so weak," he murmurs still licking at your neck. it does soothe the pain, slowly you start to relax too. you hadn't died, he hadn't betrayed you. you were bound together now, Mated as they called it.
You put yourself together again in time for the celebratory banquette. you were a warrior and a leader, you had to be stronger than this, or at the very least look stronger than this. You stood statuesque next to your new husband at the head of the table, humans and werewolves alike cheered in joy, the war was over, the tribes united. People ate and talked merrily, although no one seemed brave enough to cross the invisible boundary line, werewolves ate with werewolves, humans with humans.
there was a lavish meal set in front of you but you didn't feel up to eating, instead, you examine your reflection in the back of a spoon, despite the wound only being a few hours old it's already scared over looking months old. You knew werewolves had some healing properties, you were surprised this magic could be transferred to humans.
"Does it hurt?" you jump at the rough voice, you'd almost forgotten your husband was right beside you.
"no. I'm just surprised that it doesn't," you admit. he reaches over and lays his clawed hand on top of yours comfortingly.
"I'm sorry it scared you," he says and you feel your face go hot you were embarrassed at your reaction. you knew he was going to bite you as a way to mark your union, you should have been better prepared. you look in his eyes, they're a strange yellow color, it's captivating, even if his expression is stoic his eyes are looking at you kindly. you remember again the werewolf boy you were friends with, and you wonder if he remembers you if he's even still alive. You hoped he was, you hoped you could see him again in this new life.
you blink, realizing you'd gotten lost in thought just staring at him. "I- It's alright I mean. I'll live," you stammer. He squeezes your hand reassuringly.
"Of course, you're so tough a single bite wouldn't be enough to take down my mate," he's teasing you you realize, it makes you smile a little. this wouldn't be so bad after all.
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that old cliché.
you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.
evan buckley x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.
word count - 6k
authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3
masterlist. inbox.
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Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.
The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.
A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.
“Evan.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.
“What’s this?”
“A drink.”
“Yeah. But why?”
“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”
You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.
“You were watching me, huh?”
“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”
“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”
He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.
“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.
“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”
“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.
You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s been like this all day.
You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.
“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”
You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.
“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”
“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”
“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.
“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”
“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”
“You’re gonna love him.”
“You said that already.”
“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”
And the problem is… she was kind of right.
No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.
Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.
The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.
Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.
But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.
And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.
By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.
You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.
You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.
“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.
“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”
You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.
“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”
He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.
“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”
“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”
“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”
Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.
“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.
“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.
“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”
You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,
“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”
“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.
You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.
“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”
You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.
“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.
Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.
Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.
He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.
Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.
Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.
“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”
He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.
“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”
You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.
“There’s a dance routine?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”
You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.
“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”
“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”
“What the hell gave you that impression?”
“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”
You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.
“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”
His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.
“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”
He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.
Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.
“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”
You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The dance routine is spectacular.
It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.
Everything Buck does makes you like him more.
You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.
As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.
“Hi, Evan.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
“What’s this?”
“A drink.”
“Yes, but why?”
He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.
“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”
You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.
“Is this Baileys?”
“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”
You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.
“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.
“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”
“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”
“We make a good team.”
He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.
“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”
“A super hot, super funny team.”
You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.
He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.
The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.
A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.
“I’ll walk you to your room?”
“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”
He laughs even harder, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”
“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.
“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.
“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.
He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.
“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.
“Yeah?”
“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.
“Yes ma’am.”
Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.
Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.
“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight.”
He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.
“Evan?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”
“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”
You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.
It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.
Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.
Well, fuck.
You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.
Until now.
Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.
You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.
You’re certainly not laughing.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“Evan?”
He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”
Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.
“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”
“Of course.”
You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.
“Can I ask you for a favour?”
“Anything.”
His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.
“Can you help me get my dress off?”
When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.
“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”
“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes.
“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“Can you help me or not?”
He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.
“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”
“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”
He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.
“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”
“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”
His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.
“Turn around, gorgeous.”
You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.
Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.
You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.
Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?
You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.
For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”
“Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Touch me, please.”
He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
“Finally.”
Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.
You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.
“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”
“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”
“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”
It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.
Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.
“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.
“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”
You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.
“The?”
He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.
“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”
You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.
“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”
Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.
“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.
“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.
He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.
“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”
Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.
“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“Better than ever.”
He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.
“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”
“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.
You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.
“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”
He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.
“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.
“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.
“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.
“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”
“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.
Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.
“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.
“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”
He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.
“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”
His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.
“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”
“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”
He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.
“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”
The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.
“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”
“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.
Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.
“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.
Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.
Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.
He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.
He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.
“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”
You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.
“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”
You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.
You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.
“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”
You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.
“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.
“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.
“That’s my girl.”
He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.
He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.
“Buck- I… I-”
“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”
You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.
“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”
Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.
You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.
He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.
“Hmm?”
“You called me Buck.”
A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.
“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”
“I know. You thought you were making a point.”
“I was making a point.”
“Sure, honey. Sure.”
“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”
“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”
He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.
“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”
“Yeah… we can’t.”
You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.
“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”
You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.
“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”
“You did say forever, earlier.”
“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”
Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.
“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”
“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”
“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”
“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”
“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.
He could get used to this. You both could.
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as always, reblogs are like gold to writers. if you enjoyed this, please reblog!! it’s invaluable <3
@peachysink @jjamjamie @alipap3 @spookyysinsanity @sophiah2253 @annaaaaanguyenn
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Text
Yandere Fae King ////// Flawed Love
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All too often there are the stories of fae who despise humans, coming to love a single human who negates everything they've believed. But what about a fae who doesn't hate humans? In fact, he adores them having a whole wing of the castle dedicated to the transmogrified humans he so lovingly collects protects. Samaritans, scholars, and kind people alike lived to chat and entertain the immortal king.
But the Fae King likes to wander. To look at the ever-changing human populace with admiration. He's learned by now that his humans at home are just as entertaining as the ones he sees on the outside. That he shouldn't snatch every human who interests him a little, especially when he's been doing so well (he's on a streak of 5 decades!) There's just one human he's willing to break his hard-earned streak for.
"Ew who would bring their kids to this stinky place!?"
"My Dad, (Y/n) he's also the one who owns the cabin we're going to."
"Well, it better have some AC or I'll be having words with him!"
You, the absolute opposite of the kindhearted tree-hugging protagonist are the hardened city-kid with an eternal sneer. Many who know you will question if you'd kick a puppy that was too loud or not cute enough...and the answer is that you wouldn't because it’d dirty your seasonal Birkin boots. And somehow the human-loving Fae is obsessed.
"Your majesty this is the human you've been drooling over?"
"Yes! Aren't they lovely?"
"They're something."
Fae King doesn't care if the group you're with burst out laughing when he proclaims his love. After he unintentionally terrorized them all with the oddly acting animals and the branches grabbing at them on their journey. It takes a lot for all they've been through to laugh in the face of being responsible. 
"Did you think I was joking? Is that why you're laughing?" 
"Nah man we're laughing because it's them you like!"
"Yeah, if you're a masochist who wants to die alone!"
Despite the usually jovial nature of the Fae King and general goodwill to humanity, he does have an especially morbid sense of justice. Along with his occasional forgetfulness as King of the Fae he was able to spell those he fought with thoughts alone. But that has nothing at all to do with this particular situation as he promises you he has no idea why your friends are still laughing.
"I promise my love, I have no idea why they keep laughing!"
"Its probably because you said something stupid."
" My Venus--"
"Ew and stop with the nicknames it makes you sound like an incel."
"Whats an incel?"
Because you are who you are the Fae King will know all he has to say for you to join him is jewels and diamonds. Never before has he been so willing to lie about what he could do for you if you gave him a sliver of your attention. It doesn’t get any better when you do catch him in a lie.
“Wait! (Y/n) please don’t leave me–!”
Slap
“You idiot! Did you think I’d stick around if you weren’t putting me up in the best hotel? Unbelievable.”
“My bedroom!”
“What?”
“The King’s Master Suite is three times the size of these rooms…will that make you happy?”
“Hmmm…but only for a night.”
“Yes! Thank the stars I’ll carry your bags up for you!”
“As you should. Now lead the way.”
“Gladly!”
Turns out the benevolent, human-loving Fae King is quite fond of your harsh treatment. More than willing to tear century-old curtains because you scrunched your nose at them. Letting you wear the crown on his head because you complimented him. Everyone is aghast at how far the Fae King is willing to go just for you.
“Your majesty, can I ask why you like…that human?”
“Why? Because I do of course!”
“But don’t you prefer the other humans you have? The ones with kind hearts and compassionate morals?”
“My love has their flaws but nothing gets in the way of true love!”
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chatsukimi · 8 months ago
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scars: "ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴀʏ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪʟʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʟɪꜰᴇ"
Sukuna x deceased reader. pt 1.
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Sukuna whose flames are unleashed solely on special occasions. One day, when Yuji wonders aloud why he has two, he tells the brat to "shut up and get yourself your first technique before asking for seconds." Yuji winces, shutting up nevertheless.
Sukuna who quietens next to the bonfire on New Years. The open conflagration bursts and wanes. He peers at the sparkling flames, dancing before Yuji's worn out sneakers. He wills the boy to let him switch places- one minute, just as he had promised when Sukuna restored his heart. Now the Devil will restore his own.
Sukuna who appears, silent, next to a mossy pillar in the middle of a redwood forest; a trick of Cursed Technique, long lost. He only has a minute: prepare the incense, plant the prayers, spare one longing gaze at your statue. He clenches his teeth as he hears Yuji banging on inside his mind, but it's the one chance he has of being with you, alone.
Sukuna who had always been concentrated compared to the other Special Grade sorcerers, capable of miraculous devotion. Suffice to say, he likes it best when there aren't passerby's, mistaking zeal for shortcoming.
He sinks to the ground, bowing his head, pressing his palms together, before wisps of flame start drifting from between them, touching every candle and incense to life. Wisteria scents float over him.
In this forgotten corner of the world, all who remember you are the monks who tend this shrine, and the strongest of them all.
When Yuji wakes up, on the stone floor of the Fujiwara Clan's tombs, sputtering at the cold. Shocked, later on, by the violent burn in the middle of his chest he had never seen before.
"Curious..." Gojo murmurs, inspecting the wound. "Yuji, you're growing more and more like him."
This used to be his scar.
Sukuna who doesn't come out for days when Gojo informs Yuji about the Fujiwara Clan's destruction. What was he doing at the shrine? Why did he kill them all, the children, the soldiers, the wives?
Everyone assumes Sukuna's just tired of Yuji's moral clamouring. No one suspects he is drowning in the shadows of his domain, his head collapsed back onto the animal skulls, exhales spilling out in long drawn out phrases, in the nightmare he created.
Sukuna who used to hate fire because it quashed the dark, until he saw you manoeuvre flames and arrows as though they were a second skin. He was the Disgraced One, but you- you were kind.
Sukuna who was killed by you, when he killed your clan. He was promised your technique when he said he would protect you. He made a vow. He had to keep it.
So, when it came time, he had simply let you press your burning hand upon his chest and feel him recline in agony. He knew it would be the last time you touch him. He wanted to feel it burn.
"Sukuna, you told me you would try to get better. You told me you didn't care how the others saw you, about us- how could you lie to me?"
He never wanted to lie to you, of all souls. If it makes you feel better, he still thinks of you when he uses your flames, only on special occasions. Your strength, your grace, and the look you wore as you killed him, they all come wobbling, like moth to a flame. Like a lowly cast-away boy on his way, in rage, to destruction.
Sukuna who thinks to himself, "you have given your technique to me, but what if I had asked for your soul with mine forever?", looking for your voice in the flames.
It only cracks and cackles.
It is Yuji who first notices you on the street.
"Hey! Hey!"
You turn around. A boy with pink hair is jogging towards you. He waves.
"Oh. Hi, do I know you?"
"Don't think so. You just look really alike to someone I saw a while ago at a shrine."
You can't pinpoint what but the slit on his face... you can't tear your eyes from it. You shake your head. What is wrong with you today?
"I don't go to shrines," you say. Your fingers itch to reach out to graze his cheek. "... that's a cool scar you've got there. Both sides of your face. They say scars are where you were killed"
"Oh I've got many scars," he mutters sheepishly. "A big one on my chest, s'kinda lame though, 'cause I don't remember how I got it."
You laugh. "Me too." You drag your T-shirt neckline down just an inch, pointing at it with your thumb. "I was born with mine."
A scar.
A burn.
A flaming arrow.
Right above your heart.
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anantaru · 8 months ago
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Soft dom Alhaitham?? <3
cw. soft dom, experienced alhaitham, fem! reader
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intimacy between you two would always leave your mind staggering with pure excitement, and tonight— it weren't necessarily alhaitham's wild, hard thrusts he tend to give your whimpering, love-struck state that made it so tasteful.
he lets you teeter in your pleasure, takes it away before giving it back to you ten times more potent.
in this triviality you can feel his power soften along his spine, how his muscles relax before he focuses on the movements on his hips— for one, he engaged more on how he was doing it, how your warm walls were tightening up around his shaft and remaining tenderly compressed.
how your cunt intervened with his precise movements when he pulled in and out of you with long, languorous strokes as his erection penetrates you relentlessly, suggestive and slow, fit to deepen the soreness on your heating skin.
the man will not give you a chance to catch a breather, your heart rate must be up always, alhaitham claims it makes the experience a whole lot more intense.
burrowing deeper, you grip around his muscular shoulders as the collision of his taunting movements and sex-soaked body rub off your own, it in result making your toes curl, the slight pain of fingernails digging into your hips adding to the deep pushes on your cunt.
it's happening all while you're so consumed with desire for him, being so in love with him, spilling your delicate moans like they're besotted with this unique sweetness only alhaitham managed to pull out of you.
your boyfriend grips at your body hungry-alike, precisely your hips while his other hand rested above your head ever so softly— so he wouldn't accidentally knock you against the head frame with how impossibly fast he was rocking himself against you, all the while fluffing and pulling at the flesh on your ass shamelessly.
wantonly, alhaitham grins down at you— it's a chiffony smile, but for some reason it felt bold at the same time.
seeing him like this made your hips buck upwards against his cock as the next thrust furthers the stretch on your sore cunt— and wow, on the spur of the moment the scribe suddenly realizes;
weren't you just someone so beautiful to look at?
desire resides within him when he meets your eyes at last, and when you squeal louder each time he fucks into you, rougher slaps of his hips bouncing from you a lot more precise then before, you were nailed to the mattress with your boyfriend punctuating candid kisses all over your face instead of words.
alhaitham was kind and considerate to your body, slow and attentive to your needs, always haltering himself before placing loving kisses on your skin, in accessory to his thrusts being the complete opposite.
at the same time, there was nothing that would satisfy him more than fucking you until you couldn't possibly remember your name.
for him, every single movement, kiss and squeeze on your flesh needed to be perfected and done a certain way, exactly how you preferred it— the reason as to why, undoubtedly, was no other than him knowing that having something done uneager or arbitrary, was no short than failing the best possible outcome.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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