Discover Top Posts Tagged with #inside me

BoobGuy!Suguru who will stop to no end to just fondle and and grope your soft mounds.

BoobGuy!Suguru who could just be spooning you and will "accidentally" pop a boner from just twisting your supple nipples between his fingers.

BoobGuy!Suguru who does not give a flying fuck about the size of your breasts, all he wants is for some part of him to be touching your cute tits. Wheather it be twisting your nipples, groping your breasts, meticulously placing hickies, or even biting your hard little nipples!

BoobGuy!Suguru who doesn't mean to seem like a pervert when he does it, he just can't help seeing your supple breasts sit in your shirt or bra without his mouth salivating by the thought of them being within a 2 inch radius of his mouth or large hands.

BoobGuy!Suguru who buys you all sorts of different lotions and oils just so he can try them out on your tits. He would gently rub the substance into your mounds and would genuinely look hypnotized while mindlessly groping you. (He doesnt stop because "your skin hasnt absorbed the moisture yet")

BoobGuy!Suguru who INSISTS that you dont need to wear bras anymore. I mean, why would you? He will always be there, with his hands (and mouth) to take the stress off your gorgeous tits.

#geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #x reader #inside me #its all over the screen #unknowncyklopz

THEM FINGERS BE THICK GODDAMN

#haha marry me #get me pregnant #sevika i love you #sevika #arcane #sevika arcane #im so inlove #mannnn why can't she be real #need her #inside me #what who said that

Everything Rafayel thinks and feels and does is utterly fascinating to me. He’s such an enigma. Like a real enigma. A genuine, genius, intelligent, skilled, talent-honed, creative enigma. He’s on another level. He exudes pensive angst, yearning, soul. On. Another. Level. I could catch a single glimpse of him sitting on a chair, gazing out the window, and be internally set aflame. Curiosity descends and grasps me like a giant curved claw in a split second, a giant winged thing gripping me and flapping up, through air into pink sunset skies— the colour of his eyes, the colour of lost Lemurian shells, the colour of his heart. He is my muse and my passion. He is my fish and my boy. He is my lover and my darkness. He is my inner child and my sin. My temptation, my cure, my poison, my satisfaction. He is who I play with, our minds match, mirror, explore, derive ideas and conclusions from our times together. And the sex is carnal, primal and viciously right. I see him in everything, because he looks at everything with such keen, artist eyes. I get the blessing of living with him, seeing him in the soft, quiet moments— and the joyful, bright ones— daily. I get to have him. I get to live life with him by my side; He fills me with inspiration, feeding this endless sparkler that burns bright. And long after we die, our love and who we were is immortalized in the work we created, bursts of inspiration and our shared world, our personal knowings, that all happened in our time together. It’s all captured in the art and writings of the Couple ever. He’s the enigma I understand, because in many ways we are one and the same.