Even the morning after im tracing the marks she left, all the places where she touched me are electric. I can feel where her hand was around my neck where her teeth clamped down and made me whine and where her fingers lightly grazed my skin.
It was over too quick, that rushed meeting causing me to only crave more. I need more. I want her teeth and fingers on me again, her hand at my throat and her eyes locked onto mine in the darkness. I need to breath her in again and I want her digits exploring my mouth more.
I told her she was intoxicating and I fully ment it. I was drunk off of her taste and the sounds she was making and how her touches made me feel. I'm a junkie for her and I can't wait until my next fix comes.
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My bed is soo empty ☹️ and I feel so very shit… I wish I had a boyfriend to snuggle and have his hands running through my hair and comforting me as we watch our comfort shows/movies
Is it so much to askk for??
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Craving intimate touch.
I just wanna hold someone to sleep.
Your back against my chest.
Our legs intertwined.
My arms holding you.
My breath against your neck.
Placing light kisses on your nape.
Listening to each others heart beat as we fall asleep together.
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Caress my skin with those soft fingertips. Watch me melt from that delicate touch.
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Am I above acting slutty and needy to steal your attention from the game? Not even remotely
Would I do just about anything to get you to play with me and touch me? Absofuckinglutely
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i need to be in a romantic relationship with john soap mactavish. enjoy.
i need him to shamelessly wrap his arm around you and give you a kiss on the cheek—need to feel his stubble irritate your skin and he laughs when you jokingly complain about it. need him to hug you from behind, his chest pressing against your back, giving you a comforting pressure. need him to give you a forehead kiss before bed every night—kiss on the forehead, turn off the side lamp and then intertwine himself into your limbs and against your body until neither of you know where you begin and where he ends.
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if someone doesn’t hold me tenderly soon i’m going to burst into flames
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living weapon whumpee who's never known anything but pain and violence.
their existence hurts. they were made to be effective, not happy, and their masters decided that keeping them in constant pain provided better results. they're wilder, more unpredictable, and the pain keeps them from thinking straight enough to question anything.
they're only given painkillers, only allowed a respite from their seemingly endless suffering, after a successful mission. it keeps them loyal, and most importantly, teaches their brain to associate acts of violence with relief and rewards.
everyone they've ever met has treated them as a tool, a monster, or both. they don't know how to be anything else.
that is until they're rampaging through a village, destroying, killing, whatever their masters demand of them. whatever will give them a few blissful hours of numbness.
one of the villagers steps out of a ruined building and looks them straight in the eyes. whumpee expects fear, hatred, disgust, the things they see in the faces of every person who's ever crossed their path. but they see something completely different.
compassion.
whumpee is so stunned, they don't think to move or do anything at all as the villager steps closer, gently reaching out a hand to cup whumpee's face.
"oh, poor thing." they murmur, taking in the creature in front of them - part human, part animal, part machine. "they've done a number on you, huh?"
whumpee blinks at them. pain continues to course through their body, but the gentle hand on their cheek distracts them, even if just a little. all the indistinct noise in their foggy, addled mind finally goes quiet.
caretaker had stepped out in front of the being destroying their home with the intention to get through to it or die trying, and the expectation to absolutely die trying.
they did not at all expect the seemingly feral mishmash of metal, fur, and flesh to lean so heavily into their touch that they nearly collapsed into caretaker's arms.
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I grab your waist and pull you close, then stop before our lips touch. You want to dive in but resist, not wanting to give in. I brush my lips against you, making you hot. You can’t control your tongue though. My hands move across your waist and down your ass. You need more. You can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You move your hands down, past my belt and feel my girth. It throbs as you wrap your hand around it. I tease your tongue and bite your lip as you moan softly. I whisper into your ear “you’re mine…” and it begins…
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