𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧...

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· 。゚☆: *.☽
▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑  ▎
»»————- 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈 𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 — 𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

☽▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑  ▎»»————- 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈 𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 — 𝚃𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

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𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘷𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺
𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺
𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯...

— ⱽᵒˡᵗᵃⁱʳᵉ

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AS THE NIGHT UNFOLDED, THEIR MEMORIES OF HOW THEY ARRIVED AND THE PASSAGE OF TIME FADED INTO A BLUR, lost in the enchantment of their connection. Each movement to the rhythm of the music became a delicate dance of desire, their bodies grazing and gliding in a symphony of seduction. With every touch, they ignited a fiery passion that seemed to consume them both, leaving them intertwined in a spellbinding embrace. Their sensual motion expressed a language of longing and ecstasy, creating an atmosphere charged with the electricity of their zeal. As the party wore on, their dance only grew more intense, a charismatic tango of love and lust, each minute heightening their craving for one another.

As the day neared it's end, Gale and y/n moved in a trance, their bodies drawn magnetically to each other with an irresistible pull. With every step, their movements became more daring, more intimate, as they surrendered to the throbbing pulse of the music. The Major's hands, strong and sure, trailed down her spine, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her veins. His touch was electric, igniting a wildfire that consumed her from within. She arched into his arms, her body molding against his with a hunger that matched his own. Their dance took on a primal turn, a waltz of thirst and devotion that left them breathless and yearning for more. 

Sheathed in a sultry masterpiece, the blood-red satin hugged her curves in all the right places, teasingly hinting at the sensual contours beneath. The neckline, plunging with a subtle elegance, showcased a delicate hint of her cleavage, drawing the eye to the graceful curve of her neck. Though daring, her dress maintained an air of decency, the hemline skimming just above her knees, leaving enough to the imagination while still tantalizing with glimpses of her legs. The fabric shimmered with every movement, catching the light in a hypnotic haze that mirrored the fire in her y/e/c orbs.

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫|| 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝘆/𝗻 𝗹/𝗻Where stories live. Discover now