#oooh look I did soft tickles

[wishitweresummer]

Fun with Make-Up (Dream x GeorgeNotFound)

Concept inspired by @mushiewrites <333

“Stay still.”. Dream huffed for the fifth time. George furrowing his brows and turning his head at the annoying feeling. Dream was straddled on George’s waist and trying to do his makeup. Emphasis on trying. They had been at this for a while, but the smaller boy still only had a face layer down, far too squirmy for Dream to get through his next step. George agreed to this, but still he wouldn’t stay still. Dream wasn’t entirely sure why. At the moment he was only trying to brush through George’s eyebrows with a clean little mascara wand.

He wouldn’t have to wait too long to find out, though. George groaned and grabbed Dream’s wrists, flipping them before he could resist. Dream dropped the small makeup wand he was holding in surprise.

“George?”, Dream didn’t fight back. George plucked up the small wand and traced the inside of Dream’s ear with it. Instantly he gasped and shoved his hand away. “That tickles!”, Dream whined and rubbed his ear. ‘Oh…’, he thought dumbly.

George only smirked as he scooched down and lifted Dream’s shirt.

“Now stay still, I’m going to do your makeup.”. Dream flushed and tried to tug it back down.

“George no!”, he cried as his hands were batted away. He squealed as George grabbed his bare waist and poked the little mascara wand into his bellybutton. He shoved him away, already thrown into a fit of giggles.

George got that dangerous playful glint in his eyes.

“Stay still!”, he scolded. He grabbed Dream’s arm and slipped his other hand under his shirt, snaking it up fast until Dream suddenly felt the evil little mascara brush in his sensitive bare underarm. He nearly shrieked. His buck was enough to toss George to the side, but he quickly scrambled back on top.

“Stop I’m trying to do your makeup!!!”

“No!! You’re being…an idiot!!”, Dream tried to snap, but he was already lost in a world of small wheezes and frantic giggles. Dream fought George’s hands lightly, both of them giggling in the playfulness. George got a hold of both of Dream’s wrists and felt a rush of power.

“Do you think your feet need some makeup?”.

George crossed the line with that threat. In an instant he found himself on his back with both wrists pressed together above his head, quick enough only a single squeak left his lips before he knew what was happening.

Dream was much stronger than him. You think he would learn his lesson than to tease him too much. He never seemed to learn though…

Soon the Dream Team house was shaking with George’s insane cackling. He should have just accepted the light and manageable tickles the make-up application was giving him earlier, because this he might not survive.

[ahqkas]

♯ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE ; mattheo riddle

❛ when you cycled by

here began all my dreams ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! the countless nights he spends fighting over any sized inconveniences were getting to him. he didn’t even think about visiting the professional medic to patch his wounds, not when he had you (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.9k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fighting, blood, angst + fluff, kissing, violence, rage filled + soft mattheo, slytherin reader, friends to lovers, lovesick idiots

NOTES! my man my man my man

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

TO MATTHEO RIDDLE, FIGHTING FELT LIKE A SECOND HOME. He could insert all of his rage and anger into the punches and kicks because it was required to do so. You wouldn't throw a good punch if you didn't put your emotions into the action and so that's exactly what he did. Fought with his emotions.

The courtyard was a peaceful place for the students of Hogwarts to relax for once, bringing a sense of peacefulness with its stone pathways and patches of greenery. The yard was often filled with laughter and conversations for everyone to hear. But on some days, you could hear more than the good nature of people. Curse words and spells casted at another, yells and shouts of anger. The same goes for violent actions. The sickening snaps of bones and emotional sounds from the audience that gathered around the ongoing fight was heard for miles away.

The same goes for today.

The joyful laughter quickly turned into terrifying shouts when a nearby fight broke out among the students in green robes. Slytherins fought the most. Mattheo Riddle fought the most.

A small group of onlookers had gathered around him and another boy, his robes the same green color to match Mattheo's. Their hushed whispers and excited yells were echoing through the halls, bringing even more attention to the crowd. Just exactly what they needed.

The other boy, Aaron Banks, stood with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face, his arms crossed as he stood chest to chest with Mattheo. A dangerous combination, considering that Mattheo's bad temper could handle only this much and Aaron's instincts for his own life weren't working like they should. This situation screamed trouble.

"You really think you're something special, don't you, Riddle?" Aaron sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Just because of your name, you think you can walk around like you own the place."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed into a glare. If one looked deeply into his eyes, they would be able to see the dark storm brewing in their depths. "You don't know what you're talking about, Banks. Why don't you keep your mouth shut before you say something you'll regret?"

A mocking laugh escaped the other boy's throat, the sound harsh. "Oh, I think everyone knows exactly what I'm talking about. A Riddle will always be a Riddle. Trying to pretend you're better than the rest of us won't change that."

The crowd murmured among themselves, little jabs and comments about the two boys escaping from their lips. Bets were already in the making, money being thrown around like it meant nothing.

"Last warning, Banks. Walk away now," his jaw tightened, a muscle tickling in his cheek. He looked tense and if you looked close enough, you'd see his nails digging into the heel of his palm, trying to control his temper. He had promised to someone to do so.

"Or what? You'll run crying to daddy? Oh wait, you can't, can you?"

That was it. In an instant, all of the restraints Mattheo was trying to gain snapped away and he launched himself at Aaron Banks, who had a death wish in his eyes.

Mattheo's fist connected with Aaron's jaw in a bone-crushing punch. The audience could hear the sickening snap of a breaking bone and let out an empathic 'Oooh'. The boy's fate had already been written and no one would dare to stop the writer from his art work. They'd have a death wish as well. Aaron staggered back, more shocked than hurt at first, before he quickly recovered and his fists were flying toward another face.

The courtyard erupted into chaos of excitement and shouts of frustration as the two boys collided in a flurry of punches and shoves. Mattheo landed another hit to the boy's ribs, making him grunt in pain, which Aaron rewarded him with a swift uppercut that snapped Mattheo back.

Blood trickled from Mattheo's split lip, but he barely seemed to notice. With a snarl, he drove his shoulder to Aaron's chest, knocking them both to the ground. The two of them hit the floor hard and rolled across the cobblestones and grass.

"Fight! Fight!" some of the onlookers chanted, probably the ones who placed their money into a bet, their voices holding an edge of excitement as they watched the fight like muggleborns watched soccer matches on TV. Others tried calling for help, but their calls got lost in waves of noise.

Aaron managed to get on top, his fists raining down on Mattheo. A brutal punch on his cheek sent blood spraying on both his face and the ground beneath them, painting the green grass scarlet. With a burst of strength, Mattheo twisted around and reversed their positions, pinning Aaron beneath him. The Slytherin boy started landing a series of blows, each one hitting the blond harder and harder, with such a force it almost made his face look unrecognizable.

Aaron's nose finally cracked from the pressure Mattheo was punching with and blood gushed around his fingers as he tried to block the violence and shield his face. It didn't work.

"Had enough?"

"Stop! Both of you, stop this instant!" a voice boomed across the courtyard and the audience of students departed to make a way for the owner to walk through.

Professor McGonagall strode into the circle with her wand raised and eyes blazing with authority. The witch flickered her wand, and the boys were magically separated, levitating a few feet apart and struggling against the invisible force that held them. Mattheo was still seeping with rage, his eyes showing exactly what he wanted to do to the other boy.

"This is disgraceful!" her voice trembled with fury. "Both of you, to my office, now!"

Mattheo could see the few students that placed a bet on his behalf collecting galleons with a satisfied expressions on their faces.

The silence in Professor McGonagall's office was thick and oppressive, broken only by the ticking of an ancient clock on the wall. The room, usually a place quiet authority, now felt dangerous, like the eye of a storm. Mattheo Riddle and Aaron Banks stood before her desk, their faces bruised and swollen, their uniforms disheveled and splattered with blood.

Minerva McGonagall stood behind her desk, her expression a mask of controlled fury. Her eyes, sharp and unforgiving, darted between the two boys, assessing the damage and the simmering rage that still radiated from them.

"What, precisely, did you hope to achieve with this barbaric display?" McGonagall's voice was icy, each word clipped with disapproval. "Explain yourselves."

Aaron shifted uncomfortably, wiping at the blood still trickling from his nose before he spoke up first. "He started it, Professor," he muttered like a child, casting a resentful glance at Mattheo. "He couldn't handle a bit of teasing."

"A bit of teasing?" McGonagall's voice rose, incredulous. "You think this is acceptable behavior in response to teasing? Violence is never the answer, Mr. Banks. And you, Mr. Riddle, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Mattheo's jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on a point just above McGonagall's head. He refused to look at Aaron. "He insulted my family," he said quietly, but with a hard edge to his voice. "He went too far."

McGonagall's eyes softened, just a fraction, but her voice remained stern. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even herself, but the woman had a soft spot for the boy. "And you thought physical violence was the appropriate response? You are both old enough to know better. This kind of behavior is not tolerated at Hogwarts. We are a respected school, and such actions undermine everything we stand for."

She paused, letting her words sink in. The boys remained silent, their hostility now mingled with the sting of reprimand.

"What makes this even more disgraceful is that you're both members of Slytherin. Slytherin house values ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. This situation not only reflects poorly on you but also on your house. You should be allies, supporting each other in your ambitions, not tearing each other down."

"You will both serve detention for the next month," McGonagall continued, her tone brooking no argument. "Every evening after classes, you will report to Mr. Filch. And you will write a letter of apology to each other. Not just a few lines, but a sincere apology. This kind of conduct must be addressed not just with punishment, but with understanding and reconciliation."

Aaron's face twisted in disgust, but he nodded. Mattheo, though still simmering with anger, gave a curt nod as well.

"Furthermore," McGonagall added, her eyes narrowing, "you will each receive fifty points deducted from your respective house. I hope this serves as a reminder of the consequences of your actions."

The silence that followed was heavy, both boys digesting the severity of their punishment. McGonagall's gaze softened slightly as she looked at them. "I understand that emotions can run high, especially with matters as personal as family. But you must learn to control yourselves, to find better ways to resolve conflicts. Violence only begets more violence."

The witch walked around her desk, standing closer to them. "You are both capable of better than this. I expect to see you prove that in the coming weeks."

With a final, stern look, she dismissed them. "You may go. Reflect on your actions and do better. Dismissed."

Mattheo and Aaron walked out of her office, the tension between them still palpable but now mingled with a grudging acknowledgment of the consequences they faced. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving McGonagall in the quiet of her office, the ticking of the clock the only sound as she sighed, returning to her desk with the hope that the punishment would lead to some measure of understanding between the two boys.

Ignoring the sting of his split lip and the throbbing on his bruised jawline, Mattheo headed down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, the destination clear in his mind. The logical choice would have been the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey would undoubtedly patch him up with expert care, even if it meant hearing the scolding she'd have prepared. But Mattheo wanted something different - someone different. He needed to see you.

Mattheo wouldn't call himself desperate but he wasn't far from being just that if it involved you.

The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual, the murmur of hushed conversations about today's fight between their two housemates barely audible over the crackling fire. Mattheo slipped past the few students lounging on the green leather couches, their eyes following him with curiosity and whispers trailing after his steps. He ignored them like always, his focus solely on reaching your dormitory.

Reaching the door to the girls' dormitory, he hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly. His bloody knuckles rapped on the wood of the door, each tap sounding more quiet. What was the worst that could happen? The door creaked open to reveal you, your eyes widening as you took in his battered appearance.

"Mattheo, what happened to you?" you whispered urgently, taking in the bruises and cuts marring his face.

"I got into a bit of a disagreement," he said, downplaying the severity of the fight because he knows how much you worry about him. Which he doesn't deserve, he thinks silently.

Your eyes narrowed, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across your face at his behavior. Mattheo Riddle stood at the entrance of your dorm, bloodied and visibly in pain. "You should be in the infirmary," you exclaimed, the tone of your voice firm but gentle.

The dark haired Slytherin shook his head. "I'd rather you patched me up," he admitted, his tone softening. "Please."

Sighing, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. "Alright, come in," you immediately went to help him in, taking most of his weight with the way you slung his arm around your shoulders, closing the door quietly behind him. Your dormitory was cozy, the dim light from a few enchanted candles casting a warm glow over the room.

"Sit," you ordered, pointing to a bed that probably belonged to you. The giveaway was the single snake plush he gave you for Christmas in the third year. Mattheo obeyed with a pleasant feeling spreading across his chest, sinking into the bed with a groan as the adrenaline from the fight wore off, leaving him acutely aware of the pain coursing through his body like a lightning.

You rummaged through a small trunk at the foot of your bed, pulling out a vial of healing potion and some clean cloths. Dipping a cloth in the potion and gently dabbing at the cut on his lip, your touch was both tender and precise as your palm met the side of his face that wasn't hurt that badly.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"I've been told," he replied with a smirk, though it quickly faded into a wince. "But Banks had it coming."

"Even so, you need to control your temper," your fingers working deftly to clean the blood from his face. "You're better than this."

Mattheo's lips stretched into a grin despite the pain, causing you to wince at the new blood that started to ooze out of a cut on his bottom lip. Without another word, you took his jaw into your hand and angled his face so you could examine and attend to his injuries better. Your thumb brushed against the forming bruise in a comforting manner as your eyes locked. Your irises, a shade of [colour], met the brown of his ones. The dim lighting of the lamp cast a glow on your face and Mattheo could see the highlighted concern etched into your brows.

You have never looked so beautiful in his eyes. He felt a warmth spread through him, the sight of you dulled the pain more effectively than any potion could.

"There," you said finally, stepping back to examine your work. "That should hold you until you can see Pomfrey."

His hand, almost of its own accord, moved to the small of your back to keep you close to him. The warmth of your skin under his fingertips was electrifying, the soft fabric of your shirt having ridden up slightly. Mattheo caressed the bare skin there, his touch both gentle and hesitant, as if afraid to break the spell between you. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, your eyes widening just a fraction, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your own hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

He could be tough and rough around the edges, but he found himself melting in your presence.

The proximity was intoxicating. Mattheo could see the faint freckles across your nose, the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks. He could feel your warmth seeping into him, a contrast to the cold reality of the world that brewed outside this moment. The world was dark out there, but he felt safe in your arms.

"[Name]," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed, even in your presence. Your name felt like a plea, a confession, and a promise all at once.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering down to his lips for just a moment before meeting his eyes again. The tension between you was palpable, a taut string that could snap at any moment. His thumb traced small circles on your back, the simple motion sending shivers down your spine as he gazed up at you with those big brown eyes of his, his breath intertwining with yours. Mere inches kept you apart and he looked at you as if you've hung the moon on the dark sky and brought the stars with your heavenly beauty.

"Mattheo," you whispered back, voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name on your lips sent a jolt of desire through him, making it even harder to think clearly. Although, he couldn't think straight already.

Your breaths mingled in the small space that separated you, and Mattheo felt a pull, an almost irresistible urge to close the distance, to bridge the gap that had always seemed so close yet so far away. And so he did.

His hands, resting on the small of your back, pressed into you, urging you even nearer until you stood flushed between his legs.

Your hands, previously light on his chest, tightened their grip as you felt the heat radiating from his body. Your fingers trailed up to his face, where you angled his head slightly, silently urging him to meet your lips. Mattheo obliged, his heart pounding in both nervousness and excitement. Lord knows how long he wanted to do this.

With a surge of courage, Mattheo closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss. It was like a spark igniting between you, a rush of emotions and longing finally being released. The kiss deepened, fueled by years of unspoken feelings and the intensity of the moment.

Mattheo's hands, now fully embracing you, held you close as if afraid you might slip away once he let go. You responded in kind, fingers tangling in his dark curl, anchoring him to you as he touched you nothing but love and passion.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, the world around you fading into insignificance. In that moment, there was only Mattheo and you, nothing mattered anymore. Not any stupid fight. Not any family problems. Just you two.

For in each other's arms, you had found love, love that would carry you through the darkest of times and cherish the brightest of eternity.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

[zara-renata]

Language lessons

Caleb x gn reader, Caleb x mc. This is a short little entirely wholesome memory of Caleb before he leaves for the DAA, inspired by this post. You help him with a crossword puzzle. No warnings, unless you dislike being tickled and somehow forgot that Caleb dies in chapter 4. Fluff, banter, teasing, yearning. It needs to be the 22nd so that I can get him out of my head.

Oh.

You’re here again.

You’ve been here before.

The sunlight, golden, late afternoon shine—sheets through the open windows.

Cicadas, a constant, keening buzz. The rustle of full green leaves in the summer breeze, as the cicada susurration dips low before rising again.

 Hydrangeas, bursting with petals in the garden down below. Pink and purple, like Caleb’s eyes.

You’ve been here before, in the late summer haze.

His room smells like him. Clean laundry. Male deodorant in clean armpits. He stopped wearing the really heavy, awful body spray after you complained about it.

You hadn’t liked how it covered up so much of his natural scent.

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. You don’t like it? All the other guys wear stuff like it.

Of course, you couldn’t explain why you hated it.

You scoffed, tried to sound authoritative. Didn’t you know? People hate body spray like that. It stinks like unwashed teenage boy. If you really wanna attract people, then you should wear nice cologne. Subtle. Like a sophisticated, adult man.

Sometimes your mouth moved before it should, without your permission, as you blurted nonsense to cover up all your secrets. You didn’t want to help him attract other people. The thought made your stomach turn. 

But it was all you could think, instead of saying I’d rather just smell your skin.

He snorted a soft laugh. What about you? He reached over, ruffled your hair.

You scowled, batted his hand away. What do you care what I think?

A funny look drifted over his face, there and gone before you could catch it. Just curious. Have you smelled the cologne you’re talking about on another guy?

You stared at him. Of course not. You’re surrounded by dumb sweaty boys at school, stinking of body spray. Where does he think you would have smelled a man’s cologne? But you’d read books. Of the romance variety. The male leads always smelled subtly spicy, expensive eau de toilette. Sandalwood and whiskey and words like vetiver, whatever the fuck that smelled like.

You didn’t want to smell all that. You just wanted to smell Caleb, fresh out of the shower.

Of course, you couldn’t say that.

Wouldn’t you like to know, you tease instead.

He frowns a little. But then he grins. Like a switch being flicked.

Yeah, I do wanna know, that’s why I’m asking, Pipsqueak. 

He set his pen down, on the notes he’d been making, revising for exams.

Too bad, you had singsonged. Lifted your book in front of your face, pointedly ignoring him.

You heard the rustle of fabric. Soft steps across his rug, around the little table you were both studying at. Like you always did, together. 

This is your final chance to come clean. Where’d you smell the cologne you’re talking about? His voice sounded teasing, but with a thread of something else underneath. Worry? You couldn’t tell.

Oooh no, I’m so scared, you drawled, still ignoring him, pretending to read, when all your senses were attuned to him. 

And then he was suddenly behind you. Leaning over you with his big body. His big hands drifting up your sides, fingertips skating up, up, until he was tickling you under your armpits. You tried to clamp your arms to your side, dropping the book, already howling.

No, no, no, not fair, you yelled, squirming, trying to wriggle out of his grasp as he pulled your back into his chest, as he laughed at your breathless laughter, as he continued to torment you.

He paused when your squeals got so high pitched that they could probably break the glass of his trophy case, containing all of his sports medals and trophy statuettes. Track and field. Football. Baseball. Ready to surrender, or will the interrogation continue?

You melted back into him, panting. Revived by the reprieve. You told me to never quit, to never give up. Why would I surrender, just because you’re the one asking? You reached up behind you, poked him gently in his cheek. My lips are sealed. Then you made a gesture, as if zipping his lips, instead of your own.

I should be your only exception, always, he murmured. And then: Tell me, tell me, tell me, he chanted, beginning his assault anew.

You laughed, and laughed, and never admitted that you had read about mature, subtle colognes that men wear in romance books where you imagined it was him, kissing you, as the leads finally admitted their long-burning love for each other.

He finally gave up, and you turned in his arms, tried to tickle him in revenge. He just laughed softly, letting you. He lifted his arms a little, so you had even more access to his armpits through his sleeveless shirt.

That’s not my weak spot, Pipsqueak. You know this.

You scowled at him. You had never been able to find what he called his weakness when it came to tickle wars. He always had the advantage over you, and your sensitive skin. I’ll find it, someday, you insisted, letting your fingertips dance down his sides, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his shirt.

As your hands reached his stomach, he lifted his big hands, caught yours in his. He looked into your eyes, a rare, serious look crossing his face. He lifted your hands to his chest, right over his heart. Do you really not know yet?

You stared at him, into his lovely indigo eyes, the pink shimmering when the sun hit them just right. Like the hydrangeas in your gran’s garden. His face this close to yours, you could smell his breath, still sweet from the apples you had cut for him, carved into cute bunnies—the extent of your culinary skills. Why learn to cook, when Caleb always cooked for you? You liked playing with knives, though.

This close, you couldn’t remember what you were talking about. You could only hear the thunder of your heart, as it sped up, as you breathed in his breath, as you became aware of his solid, warm bulk underneath you, his thick thighs spreading yours as you sat in his lap.

What? You breathed, resisting the urge to lean forward. To press your lips to his.

To ruin your family, and the best thing that had ever happened to you. 

Caleb.

You leaned back.

Do you really not know what my weakness is? he repeated, bringing you back to the question, pressing your palms over his heart, his heart which thumped in time with yours in his big chest.

You shook your head. For all that you knew about him—his steadfast strength, his sense of humor, his ability to change masks depending on the demands of the social situation, his hatred of cilantro—there was still so much you didn’t know about him. Didn’t know how to ask him.

Do you love me, in the same way I love you?

 You simply shook your head. 

He smiled, sadly, fondly. Ask me, when you’re ready to know. I’ll tell you.

Now, you’re here again.

You’ve been here before.

The sun-soaked room, the summer leaves shimmering, shifting golden light, shadow, light, shadow again across Caleb’s face, as the cicadas buzz, as you turn the pages of your book, as the flowers from Gran’s garden release their scent, carried by the soft breeze into Caleb’s bedroom while you pass some leisure time, a couple weeks before Caleb is to leave for the DAA and flight training.

You’re reading a book. He’s working on some kind of puzzle, holding a pen in his long fingers as he stares down at the newspaper.

You’re absorbed in the story, soothed by the summer sounds, Caleb’s presence. After a long stretch of time, you reach a natural breaking point and look up.

Caleb is staring at you, a soft, fond, helpless look on his face. So unlike his normal cheerful, teasing expression.

What? You ask him in confusion. Do I have something on my face? You start to lift your hand to your face, but he smiles, lets out a breath. He leans over, across the table and the newspaper, and brushes his thumb gently along your cheek, back and forth.

You watch him in confusion, even as you savor the feel of his skin on yours.

He leans back again.

Some graphite. From your pencil, he explains.

You stare at him. Watch as he rubs his thumb and forefinger together, slowly. As he returns to the newspaper, his word puzzle.

You shake yourself, return to your book. Try to ignore the feelings that fill you. That constantly threaten to spill over. To drown you, him, your family.

Pipsqueak.

His soft voice breaks the quiet.

You don't lift your eyes from the book’s pages. You have a pencil in your hand, for underlining passages, collecting little bits of prose that are beautiful, true. Its graphite is smudged a bit, on your fingertips. That must be what was on your face, although you hadn’t touched your face. You don’t know how it got there.

Caleb. You echo him.

What’s French for ‘I love you?’

You look up at him. Squint. He’s sitting crossed legged on the carpet, big legs barely fitting under the small table the two of you have studied together at for years. He rests one big arm on his elbow on the table, the other now leisurely twirling his pen in the air with his evol, broad shoulders rounded. He looks like a big kid, even though he’s a huge man now.

He’s so cute, your heart hurts.

Pretty confident, doing a crossword with a pen, you note, eyes flicking from his beautiful hands to his lovely face. 

I have good aim, baby. He winks at you, cocky. I never miss my target once I’m locked in.

Which is why you’re asking me for answers to your puzzle, you say, dryly.

You’re my co-pilot. It’s okay to need each other to strike the target.

You snort, softly. You don’t need me.

He shakes his head. You have no idea how much I need you, he murmurs. Then he pauses, shakes his head. So what is it? You’re taking French. He smiles warmly at you, admiration filling his eyes. And Spanish. And Mandarin.

You feel your cheeks, the blood hot under your skin under his unabashed praise. Knowing so many will be useful for when I’m a Hunter, and have to travel. Or help tourists. For undercover ops.

He laughs. You don’t have to justify your nerdiness, Pipsqueak. C’mon, how do you say ‘I love you’ in French?

You look at his face. His lovely hydrangea eyes. The strength in his throat, broad shoulders. The pen, snatched from the air where he was toying with it, now held between his long, pretty fingers, ready to write.

Je t’aime. You say, telling him the truth, and answering his question. 

A warm pink rises from his throat, to his cheeks. He clears his throat. Looks back down at the newspaper. How do you spell that?

You spell it for him, admiring the soft fall of his brown hair in the sunshine.

He glances back up at you. Are you sure?

You roll your eyes at him. If you doubt me, don’t ask me.

Hey now, I’m not doubting you. It just doesn’t fit, with the other answers.

You tilt your head, considering. Try ‘Je t’adore.’ You spell it for him.

He mouths the letters silently, and you watch his full lips as they form each letter, as he ticks off each box. His face lights up. That’s it! He looks up, grins at you.

You turn your head, overwhelmed by how much you love him, how his delight is your delight as he grins—happy, triumphant. 

Pipsqueak. His voice is low, soft. Beckoning.

You look back at him. His grin has faded, but the warmth in his eyes remains. When your eyes meet his, he says, Je t’adore. 

You stare at him. What does he mean? Why is he saying this? Your heart thumps, thumps, thumps.

That’s ‘I love you’ in French, right? he asks, coaxing. You nod. It’s hard to breathe.

How do you say ‘I love you’ in Spanish?

You tell him the truth, again. Te amo.

He stares into your eyes. Te amo, he says, softly. You can only nod again, confirming his pronunciation, the correctness of his words, even as your heart feels like he’s saying these words to you, instead of just repeating after you. Your silly, foolish, imperfect heart.

He looks pleased with himself. How do you say it in Mandarin? 

You sigh. You answer with your truth, in any language, in any lifetime. Wǒ ài nǐ. 

He leans forward, across the table, letting the newspaper drift to the floor. He brushes his fingers softly against your cheek. Wǒ ài nǐ, he says. 

You hold your breath. Keep your eyes open, when you want to close them. When you want to invite him in, grab his wrist, pull the rest of him to you, press your lips against his. You keep your eyes open, try to memorize his precious face, to be able to remember when he’s gone, when he boards the train, and then the plane, and leaves you down on earth.

The moment stretches. He looks like he’s about to say something else, the sunlight drifting through the leaves, dappling his face, his eyes flashing, darkening, flashing again. But then you hear the front door open downstairs. Your gran’s voice, calling to you both.

Caleb leans back, letting his hand fall away from your face.

Thanks for the language lesson, Pipsqueak.

You nod, your heart thumping, thumping, thumping.

You wake up.

You wake up, and the pain comes.

You don’t want to open your eyes.

You open your eyes, check the date on your phone.

It’s been a year, since he died.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

Short, self indulgent sexy tenderness with boyfriend!vessel

vessel x f!reader

Vessel sucked in his bottom lip and bit it with a soft whimper. There you were, his new girlfriend, standing in the doorway of his bedroom in what you said was “something special.” An emerald satin-y bralette with matching cheeky panties. He feels practically glued to the bed as you approach. The way you gingerly walk over is a stark contrast to how sexy you look. Vessel likes that about you. He loves that about you. How you toe the line between precious and devastatingly sexy. His eyes rake up and down your body as reaches out, beckoning you to sit in his lap. He helps you to straddle him as he bends his legs to support your plush butt. He holds your hands out a little to look at you…take you in.

“Oooh. Let me look at you. My new…little…toy.”

Your little giggle and blush…the way you try to hide your face…god he just loves you. He wouldn’t say that just yet. No. It’s too soon. But when he feels your warmth and looks into your eyes…shit. He’s so whipped. He’d do anything for you. In fact, even if you changed your mind about being intimate tonight, he’d still relish in what you did get to do. But the way your hips instinctively rolled against his lap when his fingers trailed up your arms told him that you were up for…mm…who knows. He lets his fingers trail over your collarbones but stops before trailing down your breasts.

“I wonder…if my new toy….makes noise.” His fingers down to your back before squeezing your love handles playfully and tickling you. Oh your laugh is angelic. Even if you think it’s too loud. Too weird. Finally he stops his assault and composes himself. “Can I keep touching you?”

You nod and bite your lip as his hands smooth down your chest. You’re impossibly soft. How could such a precious girl want to be with a tortured guy like him? He pushes that thought aside quickly when your back arches and you sigh as he uses his fingertips to trace the hem of your bralette. He’s in heaven. His face lights up as the pads of his fingers move across your nipples.

“Look at that…” he sighs as your nipples harden under his touch and rub against the fabric. “Just from me touching you. Hm? Happy in lap? Being touched…appraised?”

“Hehehe…Veeessss,” you giggle and moan a little when lightly pinches your buds.

He chuckles right back and takes advantage of your giddiness by pulling one of your straps down, but he also makes sure to watch your body language. Your reactions. When your bralette is pulled all the way down, your breath catches.

“They’re not really…”

Oh he has no time for this. He won’t listen to you say anything bad about your body…not when he strains against his jeans at the mere sight of your neck when your hair is up. Or when you hold a glass just so. He shuts you up with a kiss…which turns into slow wet kisses down your neck and chest.

Vessel sits up more to bring you closer, pressing his face into your cleavage. He groans softly as his hands knead and massage you. He’s done asking…done asking for permission to make you feel good. Vessel lets his tongue ghost over your nipple until he can’t stand it and takes it in his mouth. He almost purrs when your hand goes into his hair…keeping him there as switches between licks and gentle sucks. He needs you impossibly close.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Matching Scars, Matching Rings, and Future Tales

A/N: I forgot this was in my drafts. Wrote this a while back.

Steve and Eddie had healed together in the safety of Steve’s house. Harrington Castle, as Eddie had named it, had become Eddie's safe house until he was officially cleared of all charges. That had happened quicker than they had thought, and Eddie was about to move back in with his uncle when he nearly got jumped by some of Jason's friends. He went back to stay with Steve again until the shady government people dealt with Jason's goons.

"Hey, Stevie, since we have matching scars, you know what this means, don't you?" Eddie asked as he stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off.

"I don't know. That we're married?" Steve asked.

"Oh. I was going to say that we're connected forever and that you're stuck with me. If you really want to be married to me, then married we are, big boy," Eddie said with a wink.

"Hmm. Married, huh, and all I get is a bat bite scar, not even a ring," Steve said sarcastically. "How will this marriage work?"

"Oh, baby, if it's a ring you want, then a ring you shall get," Eddie said as he slipped off one of his rings and put it on Steve’s finger. "Better?"

"Well, I've decided to put off the divorce, so that's something," Steve said.

"You're hard work, sweetheart," Eddie said. "But worth it."

Later that night, Steve was sitting up in bed reading when Eddie appeared in the doorway, looking pale and clutching his pillow.

"Uh, I heard married people sleep in the same bed together," Eddie said.

"You have a nightmare?" Steve asked, peering at him over his glasses.

Eddie nodded. Steve moved over and pushed the covers back. Eddie crawled in and plopped on his side as he looked up at Steve.

"Whatcha reading?" Eddie asked with a dimpled grin.

"Um," Steve said, blushing. "A book."

"Gasp! A book! What's that?" Eddie exclaimed dramatically and then scowled. "Yeah. Thanks. I can see that it's a book. What book are you reading? . . . The Witch and the Pirate's Heart. . .Steve, are you reading a romance novel?"

"Um, yeah. . .I like romance, so what?" Steve said.

"Nothing wrong with that. So, what's it about?" Eddie asked.

"This pirate kidnaps a king's daughter, hoping to ransom her for gold. Turns out she has powers because her mother was a witch, a fact she never told the king about. The pirate falls for the daughter, and a war ends up breaking out when the king's rival finds out about her. So, the pirate has a choice to make: return to the sea to resume being a pirate or risk everything to save the woman he loves?" Steve told him.

"Oooh! I'm in," Eddie said. "Read to me?"

"Sure, I'll start over," Steve replied.

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said.

"Nah, it's fine," Steve said. "I just started it."

Eddie lifted up his arm and settled against Steve’s chest. Steve smiled as Eddie's hair tickled his chin.

"In the small but grand kingdom of Osprovia, there lived a king with his daughter, and they lived rather boring lives, or so the King wanted his daughter to believe. Since the death of his beloved wife, Christina, King Edmond did everything he could to make sure his daughter knew nothing of the troubles that came with being royalty. Meanwhile, Eleonora dreamed of adventure. . . "

The next morning, Steve smiled as he got ready for work. Eddie was fast asleep, with his face pressed into the mattress while drool spilled out of his open mouth. One arm and leg was hanging over the side of the bed while his hair was covering part of his face. He grinned and knelt down next to Eddie's face. Steve moved his hair out of his face and stroked it. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Eddie's hair was surprisingly soft. It took him a minute to realize that Eddie's eyes were now open and blinking sleepily at him.

"Morning," Eddie said.

"Good morning, I was just letting you know that I'm leaving for work," Steve said softly.

"Okay," Eddie said, his eyes closing. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Eddie rolled over and hugged Steve’s pillow to his chest. Steve watched him fondly for a moment as his breathing started to slow as he fell back asleep. He started walking out of the room and stopped when he heard Eddie mumble.

"Love you."

Steve went to open his mouth to say something when he heard Eddie's snores. Did he mean it? He shook his head and left to pick up Robin. He smiled as he gripped the wheel, gazing fondly at the ring on his finger. Robin didn't even notice until well into their shift.

"What the hell is that?" Robin asked.

"What is what?" Steve asked.

"That," Robin said, pointing to the ring.

"Oh, that," he replied casually.

"Yes, that. It looks like Eddie's ring," Robin said.

"Well, he is my husband," Steve replied.

"HE'S YOUR WHAT?"

"My husband."

"Your what?!"

"My. Husband."

"Your what?!"

"Robin!"

"Steven!" Robin exclaimed. "Did you get illegally married without me being there to be your best man?! We've talked about this! We both get illegally married to our partners on the same day!"

She punched him in the arm.

"Ow! No, it's just a bit we're doing. I think," Steve said.

"A bit?"

"Yeah. A bit. He's not serious. He made a joke about our matching scars, and then I made a joke that we're married. That's when he put the ring on my finger," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh my god!"

"What?"

"Oh my god!"

"Okay, you have to stop doing that," Steve said.

"You want it to be real," Robin whispered.

"What? I mean. I don't know," Steve said. "Shut up."

"Steeevvvvve. You would tell me if you were gay for this man, wouldn't you?" Robin said, pausing. "I'm sorry, bi for this man."

"You'd be the first to know," Steve said.

"I better be."

Steve walked through the front door of his house. The first thing he smelled was burning toast. Oh God, was he having a stroke? That's a sign that you're having a stroke, right? He walked into the kitchen and found Eddie freaking out over a smoking toaster.

"Eddie?" Steve asked, placing the box of food on the counter.

"I swear I'm not trying to burn your house down!" Eddie exclaimed and shrieked when flames burst from the toaster. "That's really unfortunate timing!"

Steve laughed and took the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Eddie quickly hid behind him and watched as he put out the fire.

"My hero!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek.

"What were you doing?" Steve asked.

"I was trying to make dinner," Eddie pouted.

"And it was toast?" He asked.

"It's the only thing that I really know how to make," Eddie muttered. "I want to do something nice and then tell you about how I got a job at Thatcher's Tire. Also, I lied. Hopper told me Jason's friends had been dealt with a week ago, and our house had been ready for a while, but I told Wayne that I really like living with you so it's really his house. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up with you."

"Well, it's a good thing that you didn't burn our house down," Steve said. "And you're lucky that I got our favorites from Ruby's diner. Let's eat, then clean up the kitchen, and after dinner, we can read more of the book."

"Can I read it to you this time?" Eddie asked, and Steve smiled at him.

"Yeah. Hold on. I have to go make a phone call," Steve said.

"To whom may I ask?" Eddie asked.

"Robin!"

A couple of weeks later, the 'earthquake relief fund' rolled in for everyone involved. Eddie fought with Steve on using some of his money to take him out to Enzo's.

"Come on," Eddie said. "I want to treat my husband. . . Please?"

"And you're okay with people seeing us there?" Steve asked.

"Yeeess, are you?" Eddie asked.

"Okay then, but we're going to have to wear something nice," Steve said.

"You're lucky that I went shopping today," Eddie said.

Steve came downstairs and saw that Eddie had finished getting ready first. He wore a tight red blazer, black jeans, and a black button-up that Eddie left quite a few buttons undone. His red guitar pick stood out against his pale skin. His hair was in a low bun with a few hairs framing his face.

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely putting out tonight," Steve said without thinking, but Eddie just laughed and took his hand.

"Come on, big boy."

Enzo's was crowded tonight, which was a good thing for Steve and Eddie. They sat in the back next to a window. It set off away from the other people, which is exactly what they asked for.

"So, we finally finished the book," Eddie said coyly as he sipped his wine, and they waited for their food.

"Holy shit, I was not expecting it to end that way," Steve said. "I mean the real reason that King Thomas tried to take Edmond's crown and daughter. . .God, no wonder it was at the bottom of the bin at the thrift store marked do not read."

"I guess that person was against burning books," Eddie cackled. "I just hope there's going to be a second book because holy shit, that ending. Maxwell the pirate deserves better."

"We should make Robin read it so she can share in our misery," Steve said.

"Definitely," Eddie smirked, and they clinked their glasses together.

"I'm glad Edmond worked things out for both kingdoms. He's happy, and I know that he would do anything for his daughter even if it meant helping out Maxwell," Steve said. "I definitely like Edmond."

"I don't know, I kind of like King Thomas and his fancy hair," Eddie said.

"He was an asshole," Steve said.

"Yeah, but he had good reasons," Eddie said. "I'm just glad Edmond finally decided to stop running away."

"I did like that Thomas decided to stop pretending to be someone he's not," Steve said.

Steve reached across the table and took Eddie's hand in his, rubbing his thumb across Eddie's hand.

"You know, you look good tonight too, Stevie," Eddie said.

"Well, you did say you like me in yellow," Steve said.

"Aww, you wore it just for me?" Eddie said.

"I'd wear anything for you," Steve said, and Eddie opened his mouth. "Within reason."

When their food came, they switched back to talking about the book again until they were done with their dinner.

"Do you want to order dessert?" Eddie asked.

"Uh, actually, can we have dessert at home?" Steve asked.

"Sure, whatever you want, Stevie," Eddie replied.

As soon as they walked through the door, Eddie sped off into the kitchen and started digging through the freezer.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

"Looking for dessert, duh. Ooh, we still have Rocky Road left!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed laughing.

"Ooh, but we have double chocolate!" Eddie said. "Which one do you want?"

Steve sighed and put the ice cream back, closing the freezer. He grabbed Eddie by the hips and lifted him onto the counter, stepping into his open legs.

"Eddie, when I said that I wanted dessert at home, I meant that I wanted you," Steve said.

"Ooh! Oh!" Eddie said, pausing and staring at Steve. "I don't know what to do next."

"Well, I think this is the part where you tell me whether you want me or not," Steve said nervously.

"Oh! Yeah, I fucking love you," Eddie said, blushing. "I actually wanted to give you something."

He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. Nestled inside were two silver rings, bats wrapped around the band.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Well, Steve, they look like rings to me," Eddie replied.

"Alright, smart-ass," Steve said. "I mean, what do they mean?"

"I want this to be real, like really real. You know, like a real marriage. I mean, as real as it can be. I still want you to keep the ring that I gave you, but I made these rings because I thought they'd be cute as wedding rings. I know it's been like six months, and we haven't dated at all. Plus, it would be illegal, so it probably wouldn't be all that real," Eddie rambled.

"I'm so tired of dating. I've dated, and I don't want to date anymore. I think that I knew that as soon as you pushed me against the wall of that boathouse. I love the rings, and I love you. This marriage might not be legal, but it doesn't mean it's not real. A real marriage means something to both of you. It's a promise that grows old with you both," Steve said. "A piece of paper, a pair of rings don't mean anything until you make it mean something."

"Have you been secretly working on wedding vows?" Eddie asked. "Because holy shit, so much better than mine. All I can think about is how much that I want to be with you forever."

"That's pretty good too," Steve said.

Steve grabbed one of the rings before slipping the ring onto Eddie's finger before letting Eddie do the same with him. Steve cupped his face and kissed him deeply. Eddie gripped his hair at the nape of his neck and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist as Steve gripped his thigh. In a flash, Steve picked him up.

"Woah!"

"It looks like I was right. I am putting out tonight," Steve smirked.

"You are not carrying me up the stairs like this," Eddie said.

"Okay."

Steve moved him over his shoulder so that way Eddie was looking directly at his ass.

"Oh, yeah, this is a great view," Eddie said.

A little while later, they were both naked and covered in sweat. . .completely exhausted from consumating their batty union. Steve was smiling at the ceiling, and Eddie watched as the smile fell from his face.

"Watchya thinking about, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Robin," Steve said.

"Oh God, is this marriage over already?" Eddie asked.

"No! She's going to kill me! We were supposed to have a double illegal wedding!" Steve exclaimed.

"Oh, that's good. I thought I was going to have to explain to you that Robin's a lesbian," Eddie said.

"I know she's a lesbian and I know that you know that I know that she's a lesbian," Steve said.

"Look, if she wants to get married one day, then we'll stand up beside her and whatever wife who's lucky enough to marry her," Eddie grinned. "If you want to have a ceremony, that is."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I always knew Robin was a package deal," Eddie said. "Besides, I would be an absolute failure of a soulmate in law."

"I love you," he said.

"And I love you, Mr. Munson."

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

Robin stormed into the Harrington-Munson Castle, Vickie following behind her. Eddie and Steve were lounging on the sofa watching TV.

"Excuse you, how do you know we weren't going to go upstairs and fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Please, it's Saturday," Robin said. "Saturday mornings are for cartoons."

"How do you know we aren't thinking about trying?" Eddie asked.

"For a baby?" Robin asked. "Is there something you want to share with the class, Eddie?"

"Yeah, if Steve is determined enough, I think he could get anyone pregnant if he wants it that badly," Eddie said.

"So, you think that if my best friend is baby crazy enough, he can just look at someone and get them pregnant with the power of his mind?" Robin asked.

"Yes!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, sounds about right," Robin said softly.

"Well, wouldn't that mean that you wouldn't even need to have sex to get pregnant?" Vickie asked.

"Shit," Eddie cursed. "You're right."

"Robin, why are you here?" Steve asked.

"Why did you make me read this book?!" Robin asked, holding up the Witch and the Pirate's Heart.

"I read it too! It was really good," Vickie asked.

"THOMAS AND EDMOND WERE GAY FOR EACH OTHER AND THEIR FUCKING BREAKUP NEARLY CAUSED A WAR! AND IT ENDS WITH MAXWELL IN A COMA!" Robin yelled as she collapsed on the floor. "Steve, why the hell did you make me read this book?"

"They're bisexual, actually," Vickie corrected, and Robin glared at her girlfriend.

"And Maxwell turned out to be a woman! Holy shit! And Eleonora realizing she still has feelings for Maxwell regardless of their gender. . . Holy shit! Maxwell needs to wake the fuck up!" Robin exclaimed. "Who the fuck is this author? Who is Christopher Quinn? Is there a book two?"

"Yeah. We tried to find anything about the other, but it didn't even say where it was published or when," Eddie said. "We looked through dozens of dozens of bookstores."

"Seriously?" Vickie asked.

"Maybe it was sent from the future because that sex scene between Veralyn the elf and her pixie girlfriend, River, was pretty detailed," Robin said. "It was a head of its time."

They all sat around the coffee table, talking about the book and debating it's origin. Meanwhile, amongst the trees behind Steve’s house, a man popped out of a portal and began searching the ground. He looked suspiciously like Eddie, but older and with shorter hair.

"Goddamnit! I know I put that book somewhere! Oh, Steve is going to kill me!"

[wings-of-ink]

Hello! Hope everything is going well for you. You do not have to answer this right away at all. 😁 but we going to do some spicy lol

NSFW

It's the cast's birthday! So the Mc just wraps themself up in ribbons, top it off with a cute bow and wait for their lover to come home!

So how do our Ro's react to this?

Oooh, what a lovely present…you've inspired me, so I thought I'd make these into little scenes. I went a little ham on ???'s though, as a treat. 😉

⚠️SMUT below⚠️NSFW⚠️

Oswin:  He walks into the room and drops anything that he's holding. His dick twitches, and he tries to calm it out of respect for MC. He needs to have at least a shred of patience. He calmly approaches MC, though the quick sound of his footsteps betray him. He runs his hands over the ribbons, his eyes never leaving MC's. He subtly loosens some of them, exposing the beautiful flesh of his lover. "MC…I think I'd like to have cake while I open my present…" He gets to his knees.

Zahn:  Their eyes light up like stars. "Oh yes!" they cry out as they rush into the room. "You look incredible," they say as they ogle MC. Zahn takes in how the ribbons hug their hips, waist, and arms. They run a hand over their groin above their clothes. "I have a gift for you too as luck would have it." They begin to peel off the ribbons bit by bit, lightly caressing MC's soft flesh as it's exposed, dotting it will kisses and nibbles. They take the bow and place it on the top of MC's head. "Let's see all the things my present can do…"

Duri:  A wicked smile spans their lips. Duri rubs their hands together as they stalk their tasty prey. "You've outdone yourself, MC…" They bite their lip as they look MC over with a shiver of excitement. There's an ache in their loins suddenly as desire threatens to consume them. They could simply eat them right up. "Hmm, I think a truly good birthday present unwraps itself…slowly." Duri wants to ramp up the anticipation, to stir up the animal within until it breaks loose. MC must know what this does to them…As MC unwinds ribbon after ribbon Duri gets closer, looming over them and slowly urging MC to their knees. "That's my good little lamb."

Rune:  They startle. Heat creeps along their skin as they take in the gorgeous sight. MC is all wrapped up just for them with a cute bow and all. Just what they wanted, Rune didn't even need to make a wish list. MC always just knows…Such a gesture deserves one in kind, they think as they walk up to MC with a swagger in their hips. Rune plucks the cute bow from its perch and gently uses it to tickle along the exposed skin of MC. "I'm flattered, my love…and I'd like to play a little game with this gift you've given me." MC smiles as Rune lifts the bow to their mouth, pressing it until it is stuffed inside. They take a step back and begin to shed their robes. "Let's see how long you can keep quiet."

???:  

He was always a fan of peeking before unwrapping his gifts…. It's been a long time since he's received one so…tantalizing. MC is wrapped from top to tail in all manner of ribbons. Where did they even find them all? He studies them silently, walking in a slow circle to study his present.

MC has practically made a little outfit out of it, with little bows dotted all around. Each thigh has a cute bow. Their chest is tied with a big one in the center. Their pelvis has a belt of them to just barely conceal their most intimate parts front and back. And his favorite…a bright red one around their tender throat.

MC is too kind to him - trusts his resolve too much. This is a poor day for MC to tempt him so; he's having a hard time keeping himself controlled. His breath hitches at the thought of peeking at his present. Playing with it before he even reveals it all…

He makes for MC suddenly, panting with excitement. MC goes pliant, accepting guidance, so he leads them to and bends them over the back of the couch. Tearing into the ribbons against MC's backside to make an opening, he peeks at his gift and swallows hard. It's getting so hard to control today… He feels them…already slick and ready.

"You were prepared for me, weren't you. That's a good gift…" he says hastily as he undoes the laces to his trousers. " He grips each cleft of MC's ass hard, gliding his cock along the core of his 'gift.'

They moan, undoing him further, using the little bit of leverage they have on their tiptoes to press their backside against his hard cock.

He gasps as he leans over them, enjoying the sensation. Gently, he undoes the bow around their neck, clutching the red fabric in one hand and rubbing the flesh tenderly with the other as he sinks himself fully inside with one thrust.

This is the best birthday ever.

Hope you all enjoy! ^_^

[guppygiggles]

(sad/comfort, tickling)

Hey, there you are! I've been looking for you all day! What are you up to, friend?

Oh, no... What's wrong?

Oh, honey... my poor little peach... come here.

There, there... it's okay... I'll just hold you for a minute and rub your back. You don't have to say anything, okay? Shh, shh... you're safe now, I've got you. That's it... just let it all out, sweetheart. This world is so hard on soft things like you, it just isn't fair... oh, that I could take this pain away from you, I'd do it in a heartbeat...

Here, let me dab your face with this... does the cold feel better? Yeah, I bet... you are so flushed, just look at your poor cheeks... let's get your forehead and your neck, too... oh, honey, you're crying again... here, blow into this tissue. Oh, hush, I've seen worse! Just blow. There you go... feel better? Good... let's dab your red nose, too... there, now. You're already starting to look a bit better, do you feel better at all? Oh, I'm so, so glad.

Here, take a sip of this water. That was a big cry you just had, so you need to rehydrate, okay? If you don't want this, I could make you soup, or get you a gatorade instead, or... oh... you look sleepy, now. Are you getting a bit sleepy? That's what I thought... not surprising, really, after the day you just had. Hey, don't apologize! You can absolutely sleep here, I don't mind one bit. Here, let's get you more comfortable.

I hope my couch is comfy for you... you can lean against me if you want, I'll wrap this blanket around us. Oh, you're not quite ready to fall asleep, yet? Well, that's alright! Why don't we put on your favorite movie, and you can drift off when you're ready? No no, don't get up... I have it downloaded already, I'll just get it started for you. Hehe, I actually haven't seen this one in a while... I'm happy that we're watching it together.

You keep squirming... Are you uncomfortable? You... want to get closer? Well, of course you can! Here, there's plenty of room for us to lay down... Oh, pff, are you kidding? I love to cuddle! Let's put this pillow under your head, and you can just scoot back against me, there you go...

...!

Oh, no, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to nudge you so hard. That was a pretty loud squeak, are you alright?

...Whew, I'm so glad... I would feel just terrible if I hurt you. Are you just sensitive right there, or something?

Hm...? I can barely hear you, can you speak up, please?

Wait a minute...

You're not... ticklish, are you?

Ohoho, I see... so, if I just... tickle your tummy, right here, that doesn't tickle?

...

Ehehehe! Awww, your laugh is so cute! Are you embarrassed about being ticklish, is that why you didn't tell me? It's nothing to be shy about, you know... it's pretty adorable.

...

Ohhhh... I think I'm catching on, now... well, in that case... let's see, what other spots should we test out? How about right here, on your side? People with ticklish tummies usually have ticklish sides, too... and it sounds like you're no exception, hehehe! I guess you didn't know I moonlight as a tickle monster, hm? Too late to run, now! Tickle, tickle, tickle! Awww, you have the sweetest laugh when you're being tickled! What about your ribs, I wonder?

...

Ticklish here, too? Goodness! You're just ticklish all over, huh?

Uh oh~ not here...? Not right heeeeeere, under your arms? Hehe, oh, but everybody likes it right here! Tickle, tickle! Wow, I didn't know you could laugh like that! Is this your worst spot~? Your special tickle spot? Oh, gosh, look how red you're turning! You poor thing, so blushy and ticklish... god, you're so cute. Alright, alright, I'll give you a break, now. Don't think I'm not gonna find your other spots, later, though...! Hehehehe~

Here's some water... I bet you're winded after all that laughing. Oooh, you look very sleepy now, too... are you? Oh, good... you really need to rest. I'll pull the blanket back over you... that's it. Just take deep breaths, now... don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart. You are so safe and loved, here... I won't let anything happen to you. Just rest your sweet head, close your eyes...

Goodnight, peach. 💙

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

A very devilish angel

A/N: A demon and an angel are in love and while that could be embarrassing for the demon, he would definitely not let it stop him from making plans for their future (in secret of course, though keeping it secret from tickling angels could be pretty hard.) Just floofy fluff floof and a pinch of feely schmeelies, pardon me.  

It hadn’t been long that they’d been together. Officially together.

And Crowley just couldn’t stop blushing.

Every time Aziraphale did something even remotely romantic, he froze, his eyes widening in disbelief and his voice leaving him hanging as he turned speechless.

The worst part was that Aziraphale seemed to find this incredibly endearing. His lips tended to quirk into that very specific, charming, almost sympathetic smile and his eyes glazed over with a warm playfulness, a soft infatuation with Crowley’s reaction.

Crowley could swear that, had Aziraphale installed any fire alarms in the bookshop, they’d be going off all the time from the hot, embarrassed steam the demon produced at any instance Aziraphale gave him that specific look, often accompanied by a gentle chuckle.

From what Crowley could tell, his behaviour did nothing but inspire Aziraphale to turn increasingly more affectionate. His blushing never seemed to come to a halt anymore as the angel came up with all sorts of gentle gestures and fond phrases to make his insides melt.

He’d feel his lips quiver when two perfectly manicured hands smoothed out the fabric of his shirt, making his chest feel warm in the touched places and his cheeks even warmer. “You look absolutely gorgeous today, my love.” The angel would say as he’d lean in to place a kiss on Crowley’s 100 degree face. Turning boneless, Crowley would make an awkward little step to the side, snarling and hissing – even though Aziraphale argued that he was in fact purring – before pushing himself past his lover to act like nothing was the matter.

Crowley had reacted the same way when Aziraphale had kissed the back of his hand for the first time, or whenever he took off his glasses to look fondly into his snake eyes before kissing him on the lips, or when Aziraphale had had the audacity to put an arm around his middle while he had been busy skimming through the pages of a book, complaining about the general concept of dusty imprinted, tree-skeletons. He’d almost jumped out of his own vessel then, dropping the book in question – that Aziraphale had then caught effortlessly – and zipping it almost instantly.

“You were saying?” Aziraphale had asked smugly, putting his chin on Crowley’s shoulder and beaming up at his deeply flushed face.

Yes, his angel had figured him out quite well. And Crowley was loving it deeply. To not be but a riddle to which Aziraphale knew all the answers was one of the most comforting experiences of Crowley’s existence. Nevertheless, the effortlessness of his angel’s reactions to him never seized to surprise him, to leave him breathless, weak in the knees, all wibbly-wobbly inside. And that could at times be a little frustrating for him.

Currently, Crowley was busy turning a map around in his hands, seated on one of Aziraphale’s larger sofas. With furrowed brows, he was trying to figure out where exactly he’d have to go to reach the coast, something the two of them had been talking about a lot in recent times. His angel had been busy preparing tea and was minutely returning, a silver tray with clinking cups in his hands, his reassuring angel-voice humming sweetly. Crowley’s neck was tingling comfortably at the noise.

“Oooh, a maaap!” Aziraphale exclaimed excitedly as he settled down next to the demon on his couch, placing the tray upon the table in front of them

“Don’t call it a maaap!” Crowley groaned, sending him a reprimanding glance over the brim of his dark glasses.

“I didn’t,” Aziraphale answered with a small lift of his eyebrow, making Crowley’s heart jump  a little.

“Yes, you did!” He insisted, before lifting the map in a way that made Aziraphale’s face disappear from view. Aziraphale’s presence made him so tense that he lifted his shoulders to his ears without even noticing it.

Aziraphale was chuckling softly, taking a sip of his tea, before sticking his nose over the top of the map, glancing down at what Crowley was looking at.

“What are you doing?”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel and sniffed in an unbothered way, as if nothing of interest was currently happening. “Looking. At a map.”

“Yes, but whatever for?” Aziraphale’s eyes were smiling now and Crowley’s shoulders shot up a little higher.

“Nothing you must know about right now.”

Aziraphale, that terribly sweet angel, pushed his head past the crook in Crowley’s arm, his face ending up rather close to the demon’s and rather past the map in question. “Are you planning something?”

Crowley blinked at him, mouth agape, a tender blush creeping over the bridge of his nose. “Y-you will find out s-soon enough!” Quickly, he tried to look away from the angel, gulping. But Aziraphale had other plans. Chuckling gently, he pushed the map down and leaned in even closer to Crowley than before.

“I like it when you make secret plans. I wonder for how long you’ll be able to keep them from me, though.”

Crowley blushed a deep red when Aziraphale went to push him down into the cushions, his warm hand on his collarbone, his familiar, beloved vessel weighing him deeper down into the sofa. He felt his lips quiver as the angel’s nose touched his own, one of Aziraphale’s hands moving away from their propped up position next to his ears to remove his glasses. Bright blue eyes were gently looking into his own.

“Are you trying to bribe me, angel?” He asked, covering up his shyness by raising his eyebrows at the other playfully, an excited turmoil raging in his stomach. Aziraphale had him trapped on the sofa now, his left arm on the demon’s chest, his right one extended to place the glasses on the table next to him.

“You know, I have methods to get you to speak…” A mischievous glance sprang to the angel’s eyes as he started to wiggle the fingers of his now free right hand around.

“Now, wait a minute!” Crowley gasped, sobering up a little, seeing what he had done with his mindlessly uttered remark. “You cannot do this, I- I am the demon! Y-you are an angel, you’re supposed t-to spare people, for whoever’s sake!”

For Crowley’s taste, the angel was enjoying his insignificant attempts at wiggling out from underneath his stylishly dressed ‘boyfriend’ far too much. Blue eyes were sparkling with joy as demonic hands came up to protect a rather defenceless upper body.

“Do you hear me, angel?? People. Angels. Sparing!” Crowley repeated a little more hysterical when Aziraphale’s hand started to get closer to his body. It was embarrassing really how his voice went up the second Aziraphale’s threatening hand moved slightly faster towards him.

The angel was having a great time, evidently, laughing at Crowley’s demise. It didn’t really help with Crowley’s general embarrassment and fidgeting and melting and not-actually-trying-to-get-away. Apparently, he was too soft to spoil Aziraphale’s fun. (And maybe he also did enjoy it a little, when Aziraphale teased him like this.)

Sympathetically the angel tilted his head to the side, before saying: “Oh, Crowley, you’re not people.”

After that, Crowley was nothing at all anymore really – nothing but a bubbling, squeaking, laughing pile of demonic goo on a dusty bookshop sofa, as Aziraphale’s hand travelled straight to the ticklish spots on his left side, squeezing the sensitive area repeatedly and deepening Crowley’s blush immediately. “NO! Angel, wait!! WAIT!!”

“Wait for what, my dear?” Aziraphale asked as if nothing was the matter, his lips curled up in the most self-congratulating smile, while his fingertips were expertly seeking out the bits and pieces of Crowley that made him arch his back and toss his head around. Red curls were getting dishevelled on the red sofa cushions. Bright, pointy teeth glinted in the sombre bookshop lighting, yellow eyes filled with mirth, disappearing from sight whenever Crowley had to squeeze them shut against the ticklish sensations.

“PLEASE STOP!!” He squealed, his laughter bright enough to open the gates of Heaven, impossibly sweet for a snarling, moody demon. “PLEASE, ANGEL!!”

“But you haven’t told me anything, yet!”

Crowley doubled over with laughter, when Aziraphale’s fingers started scribbling at his stomach. He couldn’t kick himself out from underneath the angel and his flailing and pushing hands had the same effect on him as Beelzebub’s flies if they were to plop against him.

“Oh, the demon’s weak spot,” Aziraphale teased, chuckling when Crowley gasped for air dramatically, as if it were necessary. “Are you trying to make me pity you?”

Crowley started shaking his head violently when Aziraphale’s fingers began wiggling into his ribs, his lungs burning from all the laughter. “JUST STOP! STOP AND I’LL TELL YOU!!”

Aziraphale wasn’t cruel – not that cruel, at least – and granted Crowley his wish. Smug and pleased with himself, he put both his elbows up on Crowley’s chest and smirked down at his flushed face. A demonic chest that was currently moving up and down rather fast, indulging unnecessarily in the drama of the moment – a poor, unjustly tickled demon, trying to regain his breathing after a vicious, vicious attack from a very ruthless angel…

“You’re being really dramatic right now,” Aziraphale commented, chuckling when Crowley stopped the act and started pouting instead, yellow snake eyes glaring at his face. The dishevelled demonic mess seemed to have a rather softening effect on the angel, who moved one hand up to push a strand of hair out of his forehead. “It suits you very well.”

“Shut up!” Crowley exclaimed, a small smile clinging to his features as he tried to sound convincingly exasperated. One gentle caress to his hair sufficed and Crowley was purring- err snarling again. “You are a very devilish angel.”

“How dare you!” Aziraphale huffed with a grin, his hand wandering to Crowley’s side again to tweak it one last time in retaliation, relishing in the way the demon squawked.

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh afterwards, amused by his own noise, joined quickly by Aziraphale. “Stop it, seriously!”

“Of course,” Aziraphale put his hand back on Crowley’s chest and made an expectant face, “but you better start talking real fast.”

“Secret plans are in fact very secretive, you know.” Crowley answered, his hands gently moving up the angel’s back, who made a rather pleased little noise.

“Does this mean you do not plan to tell me about them?”

Crowley smiled and pulled Aziraphale closer towards him. “For now.”

The demon pulled the angel in for a tender kiss, reversing their positions progressively until he was the one on top, his hands cradling the angel’s chuckling face.

“What?” He slurred, drunk on angel.

“You tend to do this.” Aziraphale answered, his fingers caressing the skin under Crowley’s chin.

“What?” The demon asked again, snarling against Aziraphale’s ear now.

“Be … ‘more straightforward’. After I’ve tickled you.”

“Reaaally? Is that soooo?”

“… Yes?”

“Hmmmm, surprising, I wonder what opportunities my newly gained position might offer me…”

“… Ehm.”

“Whatever might inspire a demon like me to get ‘more straightforward’ after an angel like you goes so far as to tickle me??”

“Now, Crowley, let’s not do anything we might regret here…”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to chuckle. “Oh, we are far past that point by now, angel.”

And maybe the muffled giggling noises that could be heard from inside the bookshop were the sounds of an angel who hadn’t seen a hellish revenge coming his way. But who was happy to endure it nonetheless. Because secret plans were being made for him. Which meant that his love was going to last.

Maybe even an eternity.

[fieldofdaisiies]

This may not quite be a headcanon request, but: how would the bat boys, Eris and Lucien wake you up and greet you in the morning ❤️👀

oooh I love this ❤️ here we go:

Rhysand

our High Lord of the Night Court is most mornings already awake before you wake

he will always stay in bed with you, letting you sleep with your head resting on his warm solid chest

Rhysand does not wake you, he lets you wake on your own

but he looks into your mind to make sure you are not having a nightmare - obviously he is filled with purely male pride when he finds you dreaming about him

but when you finally wake and start moving a little he will not waste a second to press his lips onto yours (he couldn't care less about morning breath)

he kisses you softly until you blink open your eyes "good morning, my beautiful darling"

you love his voice in the morning, it is hoarse and raspy and dances over your skin like a feather

it takes you a little moment to take in your mate in all his glory, lying naked (the sheets only covering close to nothing of him) next to you, his hair ruffled, his eyes aglow

you talk a little about the day ahead, your plans and dreams

later you either have breakfast or your stay tangled in the sheets for a moment longer

Cassian

Cassian loves holding you in his arms, his is this big bear and he loves nothing more than having his mate sleep in his arms

but Cassian is also one who cannot rest too long, or stay too long without moving

so he tells himself to not wake you and give you your well-deserved rest, but if he is awake long before you he will start moving lightly

in an attempt to wake you softly he will start pampering your exposed neck and shoulder with gentle kisses to your neck

his large hand will move your hips closer to him (your whole body actually) so he has better access to you skin

the general kisses your neck, your shoulders, your shoulder blades, your jaw, your ear, your cheek, your brow

and then you slowly start to wake up, having to giggle when his hand dances over your belly, circling your belly button, tickling you slightly

you wake up with a smile on your face, giggling softly an the first thing you will see is Cassian leaning over you

his dark curls topple over his forehead, sleep etched into his features, but he looks stunning

Cassian always lean down and kisses your brow, your nose and lastly your lips "good morning, sweetheart. I hope you slept well."

many mornings the soft and gentle kisses lead to a little more

Azriel

Azriel could sleep next to you for hours (the only time he really finds rest)

and he could also just lie next you for ours

your cheek is pressed into his palm while you sleep with your beck pressed against his front

Azriel is fully at ease in those moments

he has one arm crossed behind his head, a beautiful smile blooming on his face while he silently regards you

Azriel is also humming lowly, some sort of love song that you adore

you wake up to it, to the sweet humming of your mate, his chest softly vibrating behind your back

you often place a kiss to his palm and Azriel knows you are awake

he will remove his arm from behind his head, to curl it around you and pressing you closer to him "Good morning, beautiful. I hope your night was filled with wonderful dreams."

Azriel kisses your ear softly, then your cheek and lastly your lips

he always used to worry about morning breath until you told him you did not care one bit and love being woken by him kissing you

and so most, basically all, mornings start with you and Azriel sharing some soft, slow but nevertheless passionate kisses

Azriel takes his time devouring your, his hand softly stroking you while he tastes your mouth, making up for the time you have missed together

sometimes it turns into more, sometimes it also just stays with the kisses and you both decide to get some breakfast which you will often eat in bed

Lucien

just like it is with Azriel, Lucien also loves nothing more than having you sleep in his arms

it is the most peace and comfort he can get to have you sleeping right there in his arms

he knows he can protect you there and keep you safe and that brings him happiness

Lucien will never grow tired of admiring you and when you sleep next to him, in just the skin your were born with, he cannot stop himself from being in utter awe about how stunning his mate is

you are the most beautiful female he has ever seen, stunning and imperfectly perfect

Lucien will softly brush his hands over your skin, gently letting his finger tips dance over your skin

he loves it that the sheet has moved and slipped in the night

and he also loves to admire you, knowing how when you are awake you will always blush

Lucien also cannot stop from tickling you softly and then starting to pamper your skin with small pecks

he always starts at your belly, placing kisses to your skin, in a circle around your belly button

you will mostly like wake up then, giggling softly and your hand trying to find your mate before you even open your eyes

Lucien loves catching your hand and kissing the palm, then the back of it

you open your eyes when he sits up next to you, smiling from one ear to the other "good morning, my sunshine, I hope you are ready for the day ahead."

Lucien is one to love a good breakfast and who wants you to have a decent breakfast, for him it is the most important meal of the day and there is nothing better than sitting at the table with you, having breakfast and chatting about the day ahead, what you have planned and what you will do

Eris

when Eris allows himself to sleep longer he will mostly sleep as long as you do

he often gets woken by you either moving or shifting next to him

and if you accidentally shift away from him, he does not like it

so Eris will pull you closer again, making your snuggle up against him while burying his face in the crook of your neck

this mostly leads to you waking up and you find yourself in the warm comfort of your mate's embrace "rise and shine, my little firespike."

you have to giggle when you feel your mate's soft lips on your neck and a loud yawn parts your lips

Eris' chest rumbles behind you when he chuckles lowly

for a moment you stay entangle, talking a little about Eris' High Lord business for the day and what your plans are

Eris will pull the sheets further up just when a knock sounds from the door

just like every morning he has breakfast brought in, so that the two of you can eat in bed

actually Eris does not really like to have crumbs in bed, but for he does not care one bit

he loves sitting in bed with you, enjoying a soft and slowly morning

you will share many sweet kisses while munching on all the delicious dishes that have been brought in

[missamyrisa2]

What would you do if you got your hands on a boy who thinks edging and loving on his prince part wouldn't affect him much, but you prove him wrong and make his prince part throb so much he's begging for release? Silly teasy phrases while edging him and asking him if he feels anything embarrasses him, and he has a foot fetish so he's also weak to having teasy feet in his face when it happens. He begs for release but you don't let him and tease him about not being effected so he shouldn't be throbbing or wanting for release

Ahhhh in my experience, like everyyyy guy thinks they can beat the edge. Especially when I come in with the feather. Like ooh yeah, that stupid little feather what's that ever gonna do. And it's perfect because that's like tickling, so many tough guys think tickling is no big deal even guys who have been on racks and frames and been tortured before. Oooh you just keep up that macho facade because it makes it everrrrr so much more ~tantalizing~ when I get you melted, when I hit that critical moment and make your body bend to my will and betray yours. You knooww I'm gonna goochie goochie gooo youuuuu ~ yesss my darling boyyyy my pretty pretty boyyy I'm gonna getcha goonnna gitchie gitchie getchaa with my feather and your adorable stubborn prince part. Ahh you say it's just a feather. And yes, it is yes it isssss so let's just get miss feather kissy kissying under that tip and let's just seee if we can wake up mr. rod huh?

Yeahhhh you're a toughie, you won't get all hard. You're not naughty nooooo tickles don't do anyyything to you and neither do my feeeeet. Yeahh, my feet are getting tired sitting here as you not-crumble and not-giggle with my feather kissying under your length and my fingers idlyyy tracing your thighs. So let's just park my tootsies over hereeee right by your face. Yeahh I'm gonna lay down here if that's quite alright with you and keep taunting your adorable ~manhood~ with this feather feather. I'm sure you don't mind sunshine, right? That's just my soft soft feather going up and down your length and kissing the tippy tip and ahh yeah my toes on that foot are playing in your armpittty, sorrryy but at least the other is keeping you company right? My toes just grazing on your cheeeek and your neck? How do you like my purple polish babydoll? Maybe I should do yours next~

Right, right, tough guyyyy yeah. I know. I knowww you aren't melting at all. I mean, say you were making little gasp and whimpers as I tickled your mr. rod and feeted your face ~ that would mean you're naughty and not only that but a cute naughty boy who lied to me. Ahhh if that were to happen I would well, I'd mercilessly edge you and tickle you and when you were whimpering on the tingly precipice of a gigglegasm, right at the tiiip of spilling your snickerdrops, I'd make sure to pamper your toes like my own and give you a sparkly coating so you never forget how adorable you were when I was getting you soooo sooo unbearably hardddd ~ oooh noo~! Oooh no darling! Oooh myyy goodness, oh my doodlebugs! You ~are~ hard, aren't youuuu? Don't lieeeee I seeeee how stiff you've gotten down here. You just can't help being so wicked can ya?

You knowww what that meanssss~ ooh yesss, first class ticket to edgyyyy town and an all expenses paid vacation with just me and my feather until you're nothing but a whimpering mewling messss for your ticklemama. Ooh yes, that's exactly what I am because you're my tickleboy and you're gonna tell me allll about how naughty you are and how much you loooove your tickles and want them so bad ~ you can't resist them uh uhhh you can't escape this, precioussss. I knoww I knoww you wanna cum so bad huhhhh? Sooo naughty, begging me for such a thing. Don't worry, you can have some moreee of my toesssss in your face and some feeetty face hugs while I keep your cuuute rod alllll excited and wantttyyy ~ oooh ohh was that a giggledrop? Awww did my sweeeet tickleboy dew for meeee? Look at youuuuu ~ just look at you~! What a goooood boy what a gooood tickleboyyyy ~ let's just sit and appreciate what a lovely gigglebug you are, coming in here all tough no-laughy man and now nothing but a whimpering wanting dewing sillyyy tickleboyyyy ~ ticklemama's gonna have some funnnn with youuuu ooh yesss darling ~ we're gonna reallly get to know each other alll night nowww ~ <3

[mystwrites]

Hello ^^

I’m not sure if your taking requests or not atm, if your not that’s absolutely fine!

If you are tho I just wondered can I request another Ler!Tengen Lee Tanjiro fic with lots of baby teases , tickle chase and upside down tickles too :)

i finally got to this!! eeeeyyyy!! i love the dynamic between those two!!🥰 i hope you enjoy this, anon!!

“You've improved quite a bit from our last mission together!" Tengen praised, a big smile on his face as he saw Tanjiro once again at the Butterfly Mansion. "Kyojuro has trained you well! Heard you fought five demons off with no backup and in less than ten minutes! Great job!"

Tanjiro thanked him and bowed respectfully. It was odd to know that they have so much respect for one another now despite their first meeting.

Seeing that Tanjiro had just visited Shinobu for a checkup, Tengen decided to mess with him a little after he learned some interesting information from his friend. Reaching out, Tengen poked Tanjiro in the ribs. He had time to fool around with the kid for a bit.

"You must've gotten a checkup with Kocho if you are here. What? Did you break a few ribs last night fighting demons?" he asked, chuckling as a squeal escaped Tanjiro's mouth.

"N-no! S-stop it, Uzui san!!" Tanjiro squeaked, slapping the older Hashira's hands away.

He poked Tanjiro's ribs again and received the same reaction. This time, Tengen kept poking and finally received an adorably soft giggle. A look of fear passed over Tanjiro’s eyes before he took off running, Tengen not too far behind.

“Hey!! Come back!!” Tengen cried, trying to grab Tanjiro. “I must test out Kyojuro’s interesting information!!”

“Nooohohoho!!” Tanjiro squealed, narrowly dodging Tengen’s outstretched hand. “You dohohon’t need to tehehest Rehengoku sahahan’s words!!”

“Oh but I must! His information was very flamboyant! Hey, c’mere!! You can’t run away from me forever, Tanjiro! I will catch you!!”

“NOOOOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHA!! LEHEHEAVE ME AHAHALONE!!!"

The chase continued for a few minutes, the two in the backyard of the Butterfly Mansion running around like two children playing a silly game of tag. Tengen laughed as he nearly grabbed Tanjiro's haori but missed, the teen laughing and trying his best to avoid being caught.

In all honesty, Tengen wasn't trying too hard to catch Tanjiro because what fun would it be if he caught him within a few seconds? Reaching out one final time, Tengen successfully grabbed Tanjiro's arm, avoiding a headbutt and foot stomp the teen was about to give him.

"AHAHA! I gotcha now, kiddo!!" Tengen cackled, lifting Tanjiro up by his hips. "Uh oh...someone's upside down now and I think this is a perfect time to test out this intel Kyojuro gave me!"

"Nononono!! Wait a minute, Uhuhuzui sahahan!!!" Tanjiro giggled, squealing as a hand rested against his stomach. "NOOHOHOHO!! DOHOHON'T TICKLE MEHEHE!!"

"I haven't even done anything!" he exclaimed, simply resting his large hand on the center of Tanjiro's stomach. "I haven’t even tickled you but since that was Kyojuro’s intel, why don’t we test it out, hmm?”

With that, Tengen gently dug his five fingers into Tanjiro's stomach, grinning evilly as the red haired boy burst into a fit of laughter, squirming and kicking with all his might. Tanjiro was stronger than he had been the first day they met, his kicks causing Tengen to stumble around. Chuckling, Tengen walked them both to the tree and sat down. Tanjiro's head resting against the grass while his legs were still thrown over Tengen's left shoulder, his arm holding Tanjiro’s legs still to prevent himself from getting kicked in the face.

“Awww!! He is ticklish!” Tengen cooed, worming his fingers under Tanjiro’s arms. “Oooh! He’s very ticklish! Just like a baby!!”

“IHIHI’M NOT A BAHAHABY!!” Tanjiro whined, slapping Tengen’s hands. “LEHEHET ME GOHOHO!! GO BOHOHOTHER ZEHEHENITZU OR IHIHINOSUKE!! AHAHAHA!!”

“No way! Agatsuma won’t let me tickle him and Hashibira would bite my hand off! Ahaha! You on the other hand, Tanjiro are so easy to tickle!”

Groaning, Tanjiro covered his face. Now he understood why Zenitsu always said Tengen was annoying anytime he teased someone. Unaware of Tengen’s hands, Tanjiro shrieked as he felt a sudden squeezing sensation at the center of his stomach. He kicked out, nearly nailing Tengen in the face.

"Uh oh! He’s a kicker!!” Tengen sang, dodging a kick as he found a sensitive spot below Tanjiro’s ribs. “Aww, Tanjiro! Your cheeks are red! Can you not handle this?”

Tanjiro’s cheeks flushed even more and his hands raised to cover his face. Immediately, Tengen’s hands shot up to his armpits, Tanjiro screaming bloody murder and squirming around.

“Ahaha! You’re so squirmy! I think I’ll call you “Squirmy Wormy” from now on anytime I tickle you!”

“HEEEHEHEHEHELP!! SOHOHOMEONE HEHEHELP MEEEHEHEHEE!!!”

“Screaming won’t do you any good, Tanjiro! Everyone knows I’m the flashiest tickle monster around!! RAAAHHH!!!”

Tanjiro groaned, squealing and laughing hysterically as the Sound Hashira tickled him silly. Just as Tanjiro thought he was going to die from too much laughter, a shadow blocked the light of the sun. The scent of sweet potatoes caused Tanjiro to look up as soon as the tickling subsided. He then saw none other than his mentor, the very one who outed his weakness.

“What’s going on here?” Rengoku asked, smiling down at Tanjiro before giving his nose a poke. “Someone’s cheeks are flushed!”

“Hehelp!! Hehehelp me Rehehengoku sahahan!!” Tanjiro begged, shrieking as Tengen grabbed his knees and squeezed.

“OW!” Tengen cried, Tanjiro’s right foot colliding with the left side of his face. “Haha! I was trying to test out your information!”

“Ohhh!! Ahaha! I see!” Rengoku laughed, sitting next to Tanjiro’s head. “You’re not tickling him right!”

Tanjiro’s face went pale. Oh no…

“I’m not???” Tengen gasped, looking at Tanjiro. “He looks pretty tickled to me!”

“Nope! Here, let me show you!” Rengoku said, cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers. “Tanjiro my boy!!~”

“Oh no…R-Rengoku san, nohoho!!! NOOHOHO AHAHAHA!!”

[sneezyguppy]

Quick little thing with my OCs, Avery and Casper. This is my first time writing snz, and I wrote this with... urgency, so the writing could probably be better... I just wanted to get this out, hah.

I've never been so embarrassed to post anything in my life, don't look at me... 😵‍💫

---

“Alright, sweetheart. Hold still, okay?”

“Wait, what are you going to d-”

Before I could protest, Avery took my face in one large hand, tilting my head up. I gazed at him, my brows furrowed.

“Ah- What are you doing?” I tried again, eyes watering. The angle of my head only served to increase the itchiness of my nose, which I was certain must be flushed with irritation. I cursed myself; I was so excited for a walk in the park with Avery that I'd neglected to take my allergy medication, again.

“I'm going to help you sneeze, of course.”

“He’s going to what?!” My mind screamed, heat like wildfire spreading across my cheeks. I reached up with both hands, wordlessly grabbing Avery's arm as my tummy filled with butterflies, but he did not move… and with him holding my jaw, I was unable to look away.

Lifting his other hand, he revealed a vibrant bluejay feather, twirling it a few times before my eyes. My blush burned hotter as I looked desperately into his face, finding nothing but impish amusement there. He was teasing me with this!

“How interesting… you have the same look in your eyes, right now, that you get when I'm about to tickle you.”

I gasped, tightening my grip on his arm.

“A-Avery, wait-!”

He chuckled, unceremoniously positioning the feather under my nose. Then, he gently swiped it back and forth beneath my twitching nostrils, the silky tendrils fiendishly tickling my agitated skin.

“Ah, wait! Don't- do- ahhggggh-” I whimpered, squirming.

“Easy, now… I'm not going to stop, okay? Don't worry, I won't torment you… Just sneeze when you're ready, I'll keep tickling until you can.”

“A-Avery– hnk! – wh-what if I sneeze on y-ou?” I was trembling, now. Nobody had ever… assisted me in this way, before, and Avery clearly knew my feelings about it were hardly mundane. The urge to hide my flushed face from him was immense, but he did not seem keen to let me go.

He offered a small, almost sympathetic smile. “I’m pretty fast, you know; I can probably get out of the way in time. That said, though… I'm not the type of fellow to worry over a little snot.”

I felt my blush spread to my ears and down my neck. Avery noticed; his grin turned sly.

“Oh… That really did something for you, didn't it? I might be a gentleman, but I'm certainly not squeamish… Especially when it comes to you.”

I was helplessly tongue-tied. Avery continued to gently tickle my nose with the feather, tracing it along my septum, then around each sensitive nostril. He then positioned it such that the tip slightly entered my left nostril, wiggled it a bit, then repeated the same motion on the right.

“Eehhh…” My eyes welled with tears again as the itching sensation began to spread upwards, quickly growing in strength. I felt my chest beginning to heave involuntarily as I neared the point of no return, my breath hitching as my hands scrambled for an anchor, latching onto the front of Avery's shirt.

“Ehh.. ahh..”

“That's it… tickle, tickle, tickle…” He teased gently, his pace quickening a bit as he flicked the soft tip of the feather all around my nose. I tried to hold back, but I couldn't; with him holding my head up, much to my horror, I was going to sneeze into Avery's face.

In one swift motion, he dropped the feather and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket – of course he had one of those – catching my powerful release.

“HEAKyoo-!” I sneezed into the soft fabric.

“Oooh, that was a big one. Do you have any more?”

As if on command, I was seized by a few stuttering breaths, and then sneezed again into Avery's hand.

“HEAkyew-!”

And then, finally, a third.

“HEEAAchoo-!!”

“Hehe… gesundheit! Now, don't you feel better?”

I sniffled as he pinched the handkerchief closed, dabbing gently at my nose a few times, before folding it neatly and tucking it back into his pocket.

Finally free, I turned my head away as I reeled with embarrassment. Though I couldn't admit it, he was right; I was awash in endorphins and relief… so much, that I couldn't hide a smile as I responded:

“Oh, shove it, you cheeky cloud.”

[snowblossomreads]

Day 22: String of Lights

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant x Amiee Huang (OC)

Summary: It's Amiee's birthday and Sinclair makes it a memorable one. Kind of a continuation of Day 12 Giver of Gifts.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): drinking, smut, oral (fem receiving), new kink discovery, age gap, size difference, penetrative sex, just a good time 😌

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: 🎉🎉it's my kid's bday (aka Amiee's LOL) so why not celebrate it with her having some fun with Sinclair 😉😉. I won't hold you all up with my rambles other than saying have fun : D!

MDNI

She had to admit, as much as she complained about not wanting to be fussed over for her birthday, Amiee was very much amazed when Sinclair led her into a restaurant that made her feel like they had walked into the Victorian era.

Everything about the place screamed opulent, from the dark colour scheme to the tall windows where you could peer out to see people walking about on the streets. There was also a little area in the corner of the dining room where a tiny string quartet was, serenading the guests of the establishment. 

The spiralling staircase they were led up to was also glowing with strings of lights that had been put up for Christmas. If one looked up from the stairs, one would be able to see a ring of hanging ivy that held lanterns in them which bathed the stairwell in a comforting warm orange light.

They were then directed to a private room where when they stepped in, a few of her friends and her sister stood greeting the couple with a loud and enthusiastic,

"Happy Birthday Amiee!"

Even though she knew they all would be here, their presence, coupled with the surprise of the restaurant that he had chosen for them, caused her whole being to warm at how much joy was in one room. And all of it was geared towards her.

Once she had a chance to greet everyone, they were able to settle down and have their drinks served to them while they waited for food. There was a toast, dedicated to her before they dug into their respective meals and everyone seemed more than pleased with what they had ordered.  For her, a spiced duck cottage pie piqued her interest and it had been an excellent choice. The flavors were familiar to her, yet when they were put together, everything was made even more delicious.

"Sinclair you have to try this it's dead good," she praised as she spooned some of the food up and offered it up to the man who perked up at the sound of more food.

Happy to take a bite of her own meal, he leaned over to eat what was offered before he let out a loud moan at the flavour causing her to giggle. The noise also seemed to pull laughter out of some of the others who heard it, as they weren't quite used to someone who showed their appreciation for food as loudly and enthusiastically as he did.

"Mmm, it is delicious!" He sighed now wishing he had also gotten the same. Granted he quite liked what he had gotten to…maybe he should have ordered both? 

"Here have some of mine, it's very good as well...it's almost gone though," he added sadly, looking forlorn at how he was over halfway done with his meal.

Amiee held in the soft laugh that tickled at her as she accepted some of his remaining lamb curry and he was right it was tasty.

"Oh it's good too, the spice is just right for this, and the lamb isn't too gamey!" She praised, knowing that probably everything on the menu was delicious. 

With how upscale the place was it better have been.

"Maybe we should order some to go?" She asked with a tilt of her head, and immediately that seemed to cause his mood lift.

"Exactly what I was thinking!" Sinclair beamed as he leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek causing her face to heat up.

Grinning up at him, Amiee repeated his action, pressing her lips on his cheek and laying her head on his shoulder for a brief minute as they just smiled at one another. This seemed to get a rise out of their dinner mates who made little 'oooh' sounds towards the couple at how grossly cute they were being.

"You guys not in front of our food!" Tina, one of Amiee's friends teased, pulling the couple out of their little moment with one another. "Pipe down over there will ya? I don't think we ordered a show with dinner."

Maybe it was the drinks that were causing her to loosen up, as she was almost done with her second cocktail. It was some pretty-sounding one, the drink, a something rose gold or whatever. The drink was fruity and flowery yet the liquor cut the sweetness just right. Being with her friends, sister, and of course, Sinclair, who barked out a laugh at her friend's observation, was also probably causing her to feel a bit lighter. But whatever it was, it made her feel bold.

"No one's telling you to 'ave a look, mind your business!" Amiee teased back, throwing her friend a cheeky look before leaning over to plant another kiss on Sinclair's cheek.

Everyone seemed to get a bit of amusement out of that as they all burst into fits of laughter, Amiee including as she laid her head back on Sinclair's shoulder. Looking down at her, he gave her a bright grin that she returned before he planted a kiss on her forehead which made her heart twist and squeeze in a comforting manner.

They carried on for another hour or so before one of the waiters came out with a lovely cake topped with berries, chantilly cream, and at least twenty-something candles. When Amiee caught sight of it, she was absolutely buzzing as it neared them suddenly no longer full from the meal they had just had.

"Sinclair is that what I think it is?" She chirped, beginning to bounce subconsciously a little in her seat as he took the cake from the waiter and sat it in front of her. 

"Of course!" He cheered after thanking the waiter who scurried away. "We can't have a birthday without a cake! Now come on, blow them out separately one by one," he encouraged with as much excitement as she had. "A wish for each one, go on darling!"

She laughed as everyone cheered her on and she squinted her eyes at Sinclair in a playful glare before she did as he told her to. Though, before she even got halfway done she playfully placed her hand in Sinclair's face causing him to protest as his vision was obscured while she blew the candles out all at once.

"See look all done," she laughed as she showed the cake off to Sinclair who couldn't help the hearty laugh that left him at her being so cheeky. "I'm quite a great blower if I do say so myself."

Realizing what she had said, Amiee slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in embarrassment when howls of laughter peeled from everyone in the room from her slip-up. Had her cheeks not already been red from the alcohol, they were surely on fire now. 

She was going to blame it on the drinks and how comfortable she was with everyone, because not even a moment later was she joining in on the laughter, unable to take herself too seriously with them having such a good time and all.

Feeling Sinclair wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close, Amiee leaned over towards him, only for his lips to brush against her ears, causing a chill to run down her spine as his warm breath tickled her ear.

"You are a fantastic blower darling," he purred lowly in that delicious voice of his that had her thighs snapping shut and her looking at him with shock. 

Yet, a glint of something else was in their eyes as he pulled away and stared at her with a mischievous grin. Their locked eyes were only on each other for a moment, but it was enough to light her belly up with warmth and desire as she felt a fluttering sensation begin to grow. 

Taking a deep breath and trying to calm her hammering heart, Amiee turned her attention from Sinclair and back to the rest of the party that was trying to gather themselves. Once everyone had gotten control of their laughter, Amiee was allowed to cut a piece of cake for herself before she let it be passed around.

Sinclair volunteered to feed her the first bite, which was sweet of him considering it took a lot to keep him from digging into food right away. She happily accepted and clapped her hands a little at the subtle sweetness of the cream and how well it paired with the tart berries.

It was excellent, just as the whole night had been, though, it was still young and as they went on, she couldn't get what Sinclair had whispered to her out of her mind. As she licked the cream from her lips, she couldn't help but think of something else that she would enjoy tasting.

Her eyes flicked over to Sinclair who was inhaling his dessert and she felt a pang of desire in her stomach. Well, it was her birthday he wouldn't say no, would he? Looking back down at her cake, she quietly continued to eat as her mind drew up lewd images of them tangled in sheets and writhing in pleasure on his bed. It wasn't a surprise that by the end of everything, her cunt was throbbing furiously wanting to reenact what she had played in her mind.

By the time they had all finished and everyone was waving goodbye, it was past 11 pm and she was aching to go back to Sinclair's place. First, though, she had made sure Angie would be okay getting back to their parent's by herself and the younger woman only laughed and waved her sister off.

"I'll be fine! And by the way you've been staring holes in Sinclair, I think you'd prefer it that way. Have fun you two!"

Embarrassment flooded Amiee once again as her sister walked away from them and she wanted to crawl in a hole for being that obvious. But that desire was quickly overtaken the moment Sinclair placed his hand around her waist and kissed her cheek. It was like flames were lapping at her insides when she looked up at him with glazed eyes that were no longer from the drinks, well maybe just a bit, mostly though it was a desire to be close to him.

"Ready to go darling?" He asked with that brightness that was in contrast to the freezing winter night.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered out, leaning against him as he guided them to his car.

Opening the door and waiting till she was settled, Sinclair closed the passenger side door and got in on his side before they were driving off back to his flat.

Christmas tunes and Sinclair's rich baritone filled the air as he sang along with them, and it was such a sight seeing him bubble with cheer. Yet she was distracted, not by his singing, which was unsurprisingly very good, but by his hands as he shifted gears while driving. It was an odd thing to suddenly be fixated on but she was.

She had always liked his hands and how big they were compared to hers. It was one of the many things she found attractive about him, even if she was a bit bashful when it came to saying it out loud. Being towered over by him always did make her a bit dizzy and when he put his hands anywhere on her she always felt breathless for a moment. They were just so nice and she loved them on her, on her waist, on her lower back, on her thighs, on her neck, on her tits...

A dreamy sigh left her lips and she rubbed her thighs together already imagining the wetness that was pooling in her knickers from the thoughts in her mind. Before she knew what she was doing, she bit her lower lip as she laid her hand on top of his that was on the gear shift.

Sinclair didn't seem to think anything of it as he turned his head momentarily to give her a boyish grin before his attention returned to the road.

They stayed like that for a moment, and when she knew he wouldn't need to change gears again for the time being, she lifted his hand from the gear shift which caught his attention and he looked at her briefly.

"Amiee?" He questioned as she placed his hand on her inner thigh, his warm fingers causing heat to bubble in her stomach at his touch. Slowly she guided him under her dress sliding his hand up, up, up, until he was touching her through her sodden knickers.

"Mmm 'Clair," she moaned breathlessly, rolling her hips towards his touch as he pressed against her gingerly causing her breath to catch and her fingers to grip the side of her seat. "I think- oh, I think, I need a bit of sorting out soon," she managed to breathe out as she leaned her head back against the headrest as he continued to stroke her.

"We're almost home darling," he groaned loudly as he teased her over her clothes a bit more by pushing his fingers slightly into her. His movement caused her to shudder, and let out a broken whine before he slipped his hand away to grab the gear shift as the car began to rattle a little letting him know he needed to shift gears. "Let's not get ourselves killed before we get there."

She whined when his hand retreated, and immediately clamped her legs shut trying to keep pressure on her throbbing cunt that protested him stopping. Thankfully, he had been right when he had said they were almost back because she was on the verge of just jumping him in the car garage when he parked.

It was less than five minutes before they were barrelling out of the car. The cold air of winter did little to dampen the desire that was burning her alive as they entered the lift in the building to take them to his floor.

The lift ride up was filled with tension as Sinclair wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a deep kiss that had her whimpering against his thin lips. His tongue caressed her lips looking for permission that she gave him with no hesitation before. The moment she parted her lips, their tongues were clashing in a passionate dance as they tasted each other's mouths. Tongues licking and searching as they let loud moans of desire fill the air of the metal box. 

Hand trailing down her back, Sinclair squeezed her bum roughly beneath her coat and dress causing her to squeal into the messy kiss. Her cunt fluttered at the action and she would have dropped her knickers then and there if they weren't interrupted by the 'ding' of the elevator letting them know they had arrived on their floor.

Quickly they broke apart, breathless and already dishevelled as they exited the lift with urgency and rushed to his door where Sinclair clumsily fiddled with his keys for a second before finally unlocking the door and dragging them inside.

The door closed with a loud slam as Amiee tugged her coat off and kicked her shoes to the side while Sinclair did the same. Neither of them were worried about the mess they were creating and were more concerned about getting to his bedroom lest they ended up on the floor together.

"Sinclair!" She squealed when she turned to him and was being picked up with an ease that had her cunt throbbing as she wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned down to kiss his neck.

He groaned noisily as she peppered hungry kisses against his jaw and face and it was a miracle he hadn't dropped her or bumped into anything as they made it down the hallway. Kicking the bedroom door open, he plopped her on the foot of bed and hurriedly took his shirt off with Amiee taking his lead and discarding her dress to the side.

Before she could take her bra off fully, Sinclair was on top of her with only his boxers hanging on his hips and she let out a noisy groan when she felt his cock rub against her belly as he helped her rid of the pesky underthing. Tossing her bra aside, Sinclair leaned down to take her lips in another desperate kiss, while one of his hands completely covered her breast causing her to arch into his touch. Squeezing the supple skin in his hand, Sinclair went to pinch and pull at her nipple that had her wiggling beneath him in pleasure.

"Sinclair please," she gasped, as he pulled away from her lips and began to kiss down her neck until he was swirling his tongue around her hardened nub and taking the pert thing into his mouth.

She let out another loud whine as she rolled her hips against the bulge in his boxers, electricity shooting in her veins each time he would nip at the bud. He alternated between each breast leaving her breathless and her cunt soaking and wanting the same attention as her soft mounds.

Hearing the neediness in her voice, he pulled away admiring how the red marks bloomed on her chest and he very much considered her a work of art with the way she stared at him with lidded eyes. And he couldn't stop himself from saying just that as he continued to kiss down her belly causing the muscles to clench as he neared the spot she wanted him to be.

"You are a work of art darling, god so beautiful," he groaned as his fingers trailed the waistband of her panties before he dragged them off her in a hurry.

She lifted her hips as he dragged the sodden things off her, and they too were discarded unceremoniously somewhere on his floor for them to find tomorrow.

"Absolutely gorgeous, just like a Monet, or a Picasso," he rambled as he kissed her inner thighs while her heady scent wafted up his nostrils as he neared her core that was aching for him to touch. "Or maybe even one of Le Burn's portraits," he whispered as he nuzzled her dripping opening that had her gasping and gripping the bed sheets tightly. "But," he started pulling away from her just slightly so his voice wasn't muffled. "I think you're more beautiful than anything they could have ever created."

Had her brain not been mush from her desire and they were in a different situation, she would probably have thought him cheesy even if his words made her heart soar as well. Yet, because they were in a more well, sensual moment, it only made her heart beat faster as her opening fluttered from his honeyed words.

She hadn't time to think much of it though, as once he was done with his little declaration, he was diving down towards her opening and began to lap stripes up and down her soaked cunt.

"Oh fuck!" She cried out in delight as a hand went to grip his thick blond tresses as he began to eat her out like...well him. Messy and enthusiastic "Sin-Sinclair oh god yes just like that please just like that love!"

His name on her tongue and her pleas only spurred him on to make her feel good as he lapped at her juices, swirling his tongue against her opening as he began to grind his hips against the bed to soothe the ache in his cock.

Rutting against the sheets, he sucked at her lower lips before pressing at her entrance with skilled digits that collected some of her wetness before he was easing himself into her. A broken moan left her lips at the intrusion as he began to loosen her up, his tongue swirling around her clit and his finger thrusting inside her channel that sucked him in.

One finger became two as he scissored her open and she was sure she was going to explode when he began to hit that rough patch in her that had her hips canting upwards and his name dripping from her lips.

"Right there, right there Sinclair!" Amiee gasped as she rolled her hips in tandem with his thrusts, her insides fluttering, and her channel gripping his fingers as she was pushed further and further towards the edge. 

Her eyes closed and her lips parted as harsh pants left her, she was so close, so fucking close. Yet, Sinclair had other ideas because when he felt her body about to succumb to the waves she had been riding, he gave her clit one last lick before he pulled his drenched digits out of her. This caused her eyes to fly open, and a disappointed whine of his name to leave her lips as the fire in her belly seemed to grow with his reluctance to let her finish.

It was quickly quieted by him moving back on top of her and pressing his lips against hers, and she couldn't stifle the moan that escaped her at the taste of her own juices on his lips.

"Not only beautiful but you taste better than any of the wines that France or California could ever make," he groaned as he pulled away and sucked her juices off his digits that glistened with her arousal.

That action caused a stronger pang of desire to wash over her and she was sure if he wasn't in her soon she was going to lose her mind.

"Sinclair," she whined sitting up a little "Please just fuck me already," she pleaded, nuzzling the side of his face desperate for him to calm her twitching insides. "I'm the birthday girl, right? And I want you as my present so please fuck me before I lose my mind!"

Well, she was right. It was her birthday, and who was he to deny the birthday girl what she wanted especially when she had indulged him during his past birthday.

"If that's what the birthday girl wants," he teased, pulling away from her. "Then who am I to deny her?"

Her eyes lit up at his words as she watched him get off the bed and take his boxers off. The moment he slipped the article of clothing off, his cock sprang to attention against his belly and she had to stop herself from crawling over and sucking him off.

Even from where she was, she could see how angry the tip looked and the glistening of precum that leaked from it. It had her even more excited as he got back on the bed and scooped her up in his arms to devour her lips in a hungry kiss.

It was sloppy and wet, as she let him dominate her mouth only to have him let out a whine into it when she wrapped her hand around him and began to pump his cock. Her fingers barely touched when wrapped around him which was a testament to how large he was, or rather how tiny she was compared to him. The thought only spurred her movements causing Sinclair to pull away from the kiss with a throat groan.

"Amiee, fuck, A-Amiee" he stuttered grabbing her hand to keep her from stroking him anymore as he already felt like he was going to explode. "If you keep it up you know I won't make it inside of you darling."

That she could not have, even if she enjoyed the whines he would let out when she would stroke him or suck him off. They were addicting to hear and she was grateful that he wasn't shy about letting her know that she made him feel good. It was definitely helpful their first few times around considering her own shyness about sleeping with him.

"I guess you're right," she sighed dramatically, reluctantly loosening her grip on him so that he could slip away. "Can't have you coming unless it's in me. Be a waste."

"Exactly," he purred, kissing her once more. "Now how do you want me? I think as birthday girl you should get to decide. Unless you want me to decide because if that's your decision then I have to do it because you're-."

She didn't let him finish his question as she pressed her lips against his to quiet him before pulling away and scrambling up to the head of the bed.

Getting on her hands and knees, Amiee lowered her upper body on the mattress, her arse and dripping hole on full display for him as she wiggled her hips at him.

He felt himself throb at the sight of her as he grabbed her waist and got comfortable in between her spread thighs. Gripping his cock, he leaned over her body and lined himself up with her hole, swiping the tip of it against her sticky folds that parted with a wet sound.

"Mmm just like that," she sighed. Her head resting on the pillow she had grabbed to both hold and help prop herself up a little so she would be more comfortable in the position.

He ran the head of his cock over her opening a few times to collect the wetness leaking out of her before he was slowly pushing himself into her tight heat.

A loud shaky breath left Amiee's lip as she felt the burn of his thick length splitting her open and she couldn't stop the way she trembled as he slowly slipped into her. It felt like an eternity as he pulled halfway out before pushing back into her slowly so that her body could get accustomed to how big he was.

He repeated the actions two more times, each time being rewarded with moans that increased louder and louder as he went deeper and deeper with each pass. Until finally,

"Fuck Sinclair," she gasped, her body shaking as he finally slid all the way in her. His body towering over hers as he held her still on his cock while basking in how tight her channel was even with him stretching her out.

The whimpers she let out as her cunt clenched around him were muffled by the pillow that she had buried her face in. She was sure if he stayed still in her for a bit longer she could come just because of the sheer size of him in her and how turned on she was by it. 

"Please fuck me please," she begged wantonly, no longer able to hold still and slowly beginning to move her hips back and forth trying to spur him to move.

Letting out a gasp as she slid herself against him, Sinclair decided that it was time to give her, and him to an extent, what she had been pleading for the entire night. Tightening his grip on her waist, he began to snap his hips against hers with such force that she was only able to let out a choked cry once before any other noise was inaudible.

"Yesyesyes oh yes! Sin-Sinclair!" She shouted her voice going up in pitch when he slammed back into her causing her to grip the pillow she was holding as she buried the side of her face into it. "Right there, right there!" Her little sobs filled the room as tears pricked her eyes from how good it felt to be completely full of him.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed around the room along with pleas of 'faster', 'harder,' or her simply saying his name over and over as he fucked her. Her poor cunt was going to be absolutely sore the next day the way he was using her, but it was worth it as after all she had been begging him to fuck her. And now that he was, she didn't care as having him in her was worth the soreness that would come afterwards.

Her thoughts were cut short though when she felt his hand find the back of her neck and push her down further into the bed. A warmth bloomed in her stomach at the sudden action and it translated to her cunt soaking Sinclair even more, evident by the increase of noise that suddenly accompanied the action and her crying out in pleasure.

"Aha!" Sinclair half gasped half exclaimed. A bit of amusement in his tone as if he had just discovered something while he continued to thrust into her. "I, fuck, I read that some women, god, like when their partners are a little on the crass side and ah thought this be a good time try."

What a hell of a time to think about that, was what she would have said if she wasn't being railed within an inch of her life and actually coherent. Yet she was, and when she felt his fingers slip in between them, the digits circling her clit causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut tight, she knew she was in trouble.

"I was going to ask if you liked it, but I think you've already given me an answer."

She wanted to fucking scream. The way he had pointed the fact out sounded so arrogant even if it wasn't supposed to be that way yet for some reason her cunt seemed to love it.

"Oh god!" She choked, barely having time to brace herself for the orgasm that suddenly tore through her, and it seemed Sinclair was caught off guard as well. A noisy groan was ripped from his lips as he stilled against her while her cunt tightened around him and held him close as he began to fill her up with hot spurts of cum.

Their loud moans and whines slowly began to turn into equally loud pants as they both tried to regain any sense they had left as exhaustion quickly settled in. It was only moments later when Sinclair found the energy to slip out of Amiee, did he roll her over to hug her naked body against his.

"Happy birthday darling," Sinclair panted out, kissing her sweaty forehead that had hair stuck against it. She was too tired to even make a noise as he moved down and kissed her lips. "Make sure you go to the toilet soon though,” he mumbled, as he cuddled her the way she had asked him to after their first time together, finding that he also liked very much being close to her after sex. “Even if the chances are slim, ” he yawned, “I don’t want you getting an infection you know. Those are never fun.” 

Trying to make a noise of affirmation she only let out what was a mix of a groan and an 'okay'. She would get up in a minute, but right now, she was too tired bathing in the after glow of her orgasm and more importantly, too focused on the new kink she had discovered in the heat of the moment.

Huh, what a birthday surprise this was.

A/N: Sinclair's love language is making sure you use the bathroom after sex because he doesn't want you getting sick. Love that LOL . But also not only did Amiee get what she wanted for her bday she also got herself a new kink that may or may not have been floating in her head already 🤣🤣. Good for her.

Tagging: @deepperplexity , @mercurial-make-em-ups

[losfacedevil]

Earned It // SFK

a/n~ This one... oooh did she get away from me! I'm not entirely sure where this came from... we're just mixing all the fantasies. WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI! Mentions of oral fixation, toy play, oral (f! recieving), unprotected penetrative sex, touches on a Mommy kink, both sub! and dom! Sam mentions. If I forgot any let me know!

Rainy, dreary and humid days called for a cuddles and movie session on the couch. You didn’t think twice about cranking up the window unit air conditioner while Sam puttered around the kitchen popping popcorn and securing the water bottles. 

You jumped on the couch, snuggling down into your corner of it while he found his way into the living room and perched himself on the edge of the couch. His eyes danced across the television screen as he scrolled through Netflix trying to find something you could both agree on before curling up next to you; holding his arm up for you to snuggle against his side. 

It wasn’t long before you were lost in thought, letting your fingers dance along Sam’s bare chest, slowly making your way up to scratch through his beard. He gripped your hand gently, turning his attention to it briefly as he peppered kisses across your palm and up the expanse of your fingers before laying it gently against his cheek. His hand never left your wrist, thick fingers encircling the petite circumference of it in a possessive manner. 

He began to gently run your hand down his cheek, tipping his head back as he tickled your freshly manicured nails down the expanse of his neck and back up to his cheek. You tried to keep your eyes trained on the television screen; the movie being one you actually wanted to watch. But his actions shook you from that of the entertainment playing across the screen.

“Excuse me, sir.” You mumbled, scrunching your nose as your eyes landed on Sam. His eyes were trained on the movie playing across the television screen, no longer attuned to the way he traced your hand across his face. 

“Hmm?” He hummed, the grip he had on your hand tightening and he begin to run your finger tips along the length of his parted lips; the tips of your nails tapping against his teeth as he pulled your hand from side to side. 

You couldn’t help but watch intently as he nibbled on one of your nails and then the next, getting dangerously close to the accent nail adorned with rhinestone embellishments. The giggles that slipped past your lips as bringing him fully back to earth as you tried to pull your hand from his face. 

“Samuel, I pay far too much money for these nails to look this good for you to have them all up in your mouth, SIR!” You scolded, digging the knuckle of your other hand into the ticklish spot just below his ribcage. He couldn’t help the boisterous laugh that escaped his as he dropped your hand and you pulled it back towards you, inspecting the gel polish. 

“What’d I do?” He cooed, batting his lashes in your direction. You pursed your lips, tucking your arm under his before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“You know what you did, should put that mouth to good use since you seem to want my fingers in it so badly.”  Sam’s jaw slackened, eyebrows raising as he turned his full attention to her as she leaned forward and scooped up her water bottle.

“Well I guess it’s good that I’m bored and horny then, huh? Let’s do something about it.” Sammy drawled, peeling himself off of the couch. You stopped in your tracks, sputtering over the water his comment made you choke on.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?”  Your eyes grew wide as you stood and followed behind him, slowly making your way towards your shared bedroom. 

“I said, I’m bored and horny. Let’s do something about it.” He called over his shoulder, quickly ridding himself of his pants  before turning on his heel and perching himself on the end of the bed. You eyes shone as you took him in, how he leaned back onto his hands, chest heaving with anticipation, his cock already painfully hard and straining against the confines of his boxers. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You cooed, making your way to the bedside table. He trailed your figure, eyes dancing along the entire length of you as you bent down and slowly dug through the drawer. 

Sam’s eyes grew wide as you stood to your full height, two of your favorite go to toys grasped in your hand. He palmed himself gently through his boxers, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and quietly awaited his next command. 

“The question is what do you think you’re doing?” He mumbled, his eyes never leaving the two toys you held. You couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past your lips as you nodded at him; a silent request to stand. 

“What I’m doing is handing you these and waiting for you to figure out how to use them.” You giggled, placing the dildo in one hand and the bullet vibrator in the other. Sam’s eyes grew wide as he examined the dildo and his eyes snapped to yours. You nodded gently, slowly stripping your shirt up and off over your head. 

“What do you expect me to do with this?” He chuckled, knowing full well you expected him to use it on you. A sinister smile spread across your face as you shimmied out of your pants. 

“Wet it.” You nodded gently towards the phallic shaped dildo he held. A confused expression kissed his facial features and he held it out towards you. 

“With what? The sink? Lube?” He questioned. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he realized what you were implying. 

“With your mouth, silly. You want something in it so badly you can use it to wet it.” You couldn’t help the genuine belly laugh that escaped you as he screwed up his face, but the look of intrigue that kissed his features excited you. He examined the dildo closely, before his eyes met yours and he slowly opened his mouth. 

You nodded silent encouragement, just the act of him placing the tip of the dildo between his lips cause excitement to pool between your legs. He couldn’t help the look of disgust that graced his features as he humored you but ultimately decided that wasn’t for him. 

“Absolutely not.” He mumbled, eyes dangerously wide as he tossed the dildo onto the chair in the corner of the room. 

Sam placed a hand on each of your shoulders and pushed you back gently. You allowed it to happen, falling down onto the bed and laid so your back was flush to the mattress. Sam dropped to his knees in front of you, placing a hand on each of your knees and pushed them apart. His mouth nearly watered at the sight of you before him. 

He turned his head and placed gentle kisses against the inside of your thigh. Your eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the feel of his lips against you and how the wispy hairs of his mustache scratched against the sensitive skin. Sam wasted no time in delving right in; carefully closing his lips around your aching clit. 

The noise that escaped you was downright embarrassing and the blush that sprang to your cheeks solidified it. The vibration of Sam’s chuckle causing you to arch your back as a wave of pleasure shot through you. 

He pulled back slightly, flattening his tongue against your core, and dragged it upwards painstakingly slow; paying close attention to your clit as he traced the tip of his tongue over in in agonizingly slow circles. 

“Sammy.” His name but a whisper, quickly whisked away by the breeze of the ceiling fan as your hand found a home in the hair at the back of his head. The familiar warmth beginning to grow in your stomach as he worked you over. You felt the way his lips turned up into a smirk and he slowly reached his hand up, tracing his middle and ring fingers through your stick folds. 

He blew a cool stream of air against you, causing a shiver to dance up your spine and plunged his middle and ring fingers deep inside of you. You tightened your grip on his hair, eliciting a groan from him as he curled his finger and began to slowly work you to the edge. Sam chuckled lowly, leaning forward to press his lips against your clit and let his tongue snake out to slowly trace circles around it once more. 

Sam knew by the way you pushed him closer to your dripping core that you were close and a sinister chuckle escaped him as he pulled back and removed all sensations from you at once. The whine that escaped your chest was pathetic, eyes finding his as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“Why’d you stop?” You mumbled, pushing your bottom lip out in a pout. 

He pushed himself up on his knees and leaned over your body, snatching the small vibrator up off on the bed. Sam held it up in front of him, inspecting the small device. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface, accidentally clicking the power button bringing the device roaring to life. 

Sam’s eyes widened and he quickly shut off the vibrator before holding it gently in the center of his palm. You couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past you reaching forward and plucking the vibe from his hand. 

“Wanna see how it works?” You asked innocently, twisting the small device in your hands. Sam nodded eagerly, rising to his feet and turning to perch himself on the bed next to you. His eyes held and eager light as he leaned back to rest his body weight against his hands. 

You sat up fully, crossing your legs in front of you as you clicked the power button on the vibe and brought it to life. Sam’s eyes became the size of saucers as you leaned forward slightly and began to run it along the length of his thigh. The soft twitching of his cock every time you came close to it all the encouragement you needed. 

“What uh… heh, what are you doing?” He could barely get the words out; eyes fluttering shut as he swallowed hard around a sound he didn’t want to slip past his lips. You giggle and pushed yourself up on your knees, bringing yourself close enough to him to capture his lips in the sweetest kiss. 

“I have a vague memory of you asking me how to work this thing. Which is why I asked. You didn’t think I’d show you on myself, did you?” Your voice held a teasing tone as you gently ran the vibrator around the base of his cock. The shock was evident on Sam’s face as he fought to keep his head up, eyes trained on the purple vibrator in your hand.

An innocent smile played across your lips as you slowly dragged the tip of the vibrator up the length of his shaft. He was instantly putty in your hands, eyes wide as saucers as he watched your movements; sensations he had never felt shooting through his body. His whole body tensing as you held the vibe against the sweet spot you knew would drive him mad right under the tip of his dick. 

Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head as his arms gave way and he fell back flush against the mattress. Reaching up he pressed the heals of his hands into his eyes, causing stars to erupt behind his eye lids as a sort of distraction from the overwhelming sensations tingling through his cock. The band in his stomach tightening dangerously quickly as your simple movements brought him catering to the edge.

“Mama, please, I….fuck.” The submissive slip through his lips enough to send you careening over the edge without even a hint of friction. You leaned forward and carefully pressed your face into the taut muscle of his thigh, a high pitched moan escaping you. Sam gripped at his hair, tugging hard at the root as he watched you slowly wrap your other than around the shaft of his cock. 

“Ma… Mama tells you when you can cum, doesn’t she sweet boy? Do you think you deserve it?” You were using the slip to your advantage, gently stroking his cock as his hips bucked up involuntarily. His eyes found yours, still dangerously wide as you removed the vibrator from his length and soothed the overwhelming sensations away with your hand. 

“Mama, please. I need it.” 

You smiled sweetly at him, crawling up the length of his body and threw your leg over him, straddling his stomach. A soft chuckle escaped him as your slick core coated his stomach in your juices. Leaning forward you tucked your face into the crook of his neck and peppered the skin with soft kisses.

“Feel that? You done that to mama. Can you show her how good you can make her feel? Hmm, pretty baby?” You cooed in his ear, unphased by the way his hands gripped against your sides and he flipped you over roughly. 

“Mama wants to feel good? I can show Mama the best time.” He mumbled softly, reaching down between your bodies to gently grasp his dick. A few soft movements of his hips had the tip of his dick covered in your slick before he slowly slid into you. The hiss slipping through his teeth melding beautifully with the soft moan of his name that slipped through your lips. 

“Such a good boy.” You mumbled. Sam chuckled, slowly retracting his hips from yours and pushing back in deliciously slow. He braced his arms on either side of your head as he slowly found his rhythm. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin the only noise drifting through the air as you brought your teeth down on your bottom teeth to muffle the overstimulated screams. 

“Sammy, baby, please.” You whimpered, reaching up to wrap your hand gently around his throat as he bent down and captured your lips with his. He sucked on your bottom lip gently, nibbling at the kiss swollen flesh with his teeth as you applied the gentlest pressure to his neck. 

“Sammy baby, what?” He rasped, voice fully fucked out as his hips gained speed and he chased his own denied release. The moans and groans slipping past his lips as his hips slapped against yours enough to send your mind into a frenzy. 

“Sammy baby, please. I’m so close.”

His hand found your throat, squeezing the sides just enough that you saw stars as he pounded into you; his head tossed back as another wave of pleasure washed over him. 

“Look at me.” You rasped out, wanting nothing more than to be staring into those big downturned doe eyes when the band in your stomach snapped. Sam obeyed, tilting his head so his gaze met yours. You nodded gently around his hand as you reached down between your bodies and rolled your fingers over your swollen clit, aiding him in throwing you over the edge a second time. 

“Sammy, fuck, don’t stop, Sam.” You whined, voice drawling his name and your eyes were trained on his as you clenched hard around him; his hand tightening a little bit more on your throat. 

“I’m gonna…” his voice trailed off. 

“Cum for me, give me it all.” You whispered, raking your nails down his back as he brought his teeth down on his bottom lip and his eyes crossed slightly before rolling into the back of his head as he fell over the edge. Your name spilled past his lips as his hips began to stutter, filling you with his seed.

You couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled out of your chest as you grabbed at his ass, holding him against you as his arms gave and he collapsed on top of you. His breathing was labored and he swallowed hard before turning to face you. 

“What’s so funny?” He rasped out, placing soft kisses to your sweat sheened skin. 

"You always go cross-eyed when you're about to cum. It’s cute." You giggled, reveling in the weight of his body against yours. Sam groaned softly, running his nose lightly against your sweat soaked skin. 

“You’re so not funny, Mama.” He mumbled, slipping out of you with a soft pop. You giggled softly, reaching over to brush his sweat soaked hair off of his face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m still Mama huh?” You teased, pursing your lips in his direction. Sam obliged, leaning forward and pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss. 

“For now.” He chuckled, pushing himself up off the bed and slowly made his way out of the room. 

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @puzzle-gvf @sunfl0wer-power @twistedmelodies @aintthatapity @gvfpal @psychedelicsprinkles @miguelnation @gracev0609 @runwayblues @jordie-gvf-admin @vanfleeter

[minisugakoobies]

Sunny…you’re feeling a little rusty 🥺 Well we can’t have that, let me see 🤔

Can I get a…

#13. waist rubs while laying close to each other AND #2. I want to explore your body if you’d let me WITH Seokjin and reader, please and thank you 🤭

Oooh, Chell, I am once again missing Seokjinnie terribly, so thank you for requesting him! 💕 Title: What a Line Pairing: Seokjin x Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Friends to Lovers, fluff, non-Idol!AU Warnings: cuddly silly Jin agenda, sudden tension!!

"Why are we doing this again?" Jin inquires as he joins you on the couch. He hands you a cider as he takes a swig of his beer.

"This" is the two of you trying out a new dating app together, You4ia. Questionable spelling aside, it promises to help bring you better matches than any of the other apps that completely failed to find you a lasting love.

The "why" is pretty self-explanatory.

"Because we're dateless losers who aren't getting any younger, Jinnie-yah," you inform him, curling your legs beneath you, getting cozy on Jin's old couch. He's had this thing as long as the two of you have known each other - five years now. It's so worn in and comfy, just like your friendship.

"Pssh, getting older's not a problem when you're aging like a fine wine. You should try it," he retorts, squeaking with laughter when you knock your shoulder into his. His beer sloshes slightly. "Watch it, you almost committed a party foul."

Snorting, you scroll through the setup menu. For several minutes the two of you fall silent as you create your profiles, both of you lost in choices, only occasionally piping up to ask the other's opinions. Finally, a cute little chime fills Jin's apartment as your dating app electronically announces you're ready to find love.

"Annnnd we're off!" you sigh, tossing your phone down on the table. Jin's slides next to yours. You sit back, letting that familiar feeling of hope and dread settle over you. The hope that you'll find a match. The dread that you won't make it last.

Jin brings you another round of drinks as the two of you regale each other with tales of horror and glory (mostly the former for you and the latter for him) from your dating app history.

"What's the fastest you've ever gotten a match on one of these?" you ask.

Jin leans in beside you, humming thoughtfully. He picks up his phone, then puts it down. Repeats the movement a few times. 

“What are you doing?”

“Calculating how many seconds it takes to set a phone down.” "Fuck off," you gasp, smacking him in the stomach playfully. “You got a response in less than a minute?!”

"What? Is that fast?" Jin's ego can be seen from space, but damned if he usually can't back up. With his looks, his charm, his intelligence, and his kindness. But sometimes he's just too cocky, with his crooked smirk and gleaming eyes.

Your head gravitates towards his shoulder as his arm slips around yours. Cuddling with Jin is like breathing. Happens naturally.

"I guess it's pretty good for an old man."

Truthfully, neither of you are as young as you used to be, but he scowls anyway, hand reaching for your side to tickle you until you pinch him in retaliation. "Eek! Stop that."

You stop, your hand resting on his side as his hand lies on your hip. He mindlessly rubs small circles into the soft cotton of your shirt, lightly etching the skin beneath.

"What's the wildest opening line anyone's ever sent you?"

"Easy. 'I want to explore your body, if you'll let me.'" You laugh, remembering with a shudder.

"That's the first thing they said?!" Jin's pitch rises in surprise.

"Yep."

"Hmmm." He pauses. "And did it work?"

"What? No!" You cluck your tongue. "Are you insane?"

"What, you don't think that line could work?"

The two of you pull apart, both looking at each other incredulously. With a laugh, you shake your head.

"No, I do not."

"I'm telling you, the right person could make it work. Someone you find attractive - I'm guessing you didn't find him attractive enough."

"Well, I mean, he wasn't really my type, but he wasn't unattra- "

Before you can finish your sentence, Jin suddenly shifts, dipping you backwards. He holds you tightly, one hand cupping the back of your head as you stare up at him in shock. You’re very familiar with Jin’s face, but you’ve never been this close to it before. Have his lips always been so plush? Did his cheekbones get sharper?

"YN,” he murmurs, in a voice so deep that your entire body seems to vibrate. His thumb brushes your lips so lighty, so teasingly, that you strain your neck to tip forward and catch more of his touch. It’s an involuntary motion, as your head is currently completely devoid of any thoughts. "I want to explore your body. If you'll let me."

"Holy fuck," you whisper, wide-eyed, heart pounding.  

Jin laughs, not his usual honking chuckle but something else - a tiny exhalation of surprise. “Is that a yes?” 

“To you exploring my body?!”

Now he’s honking, shaking you with his laughter, but he doesn’t let go, and you don’t pull away.

“To my theory, that the line could work.” His eyes flit to your lips so many times that you feel dizzy tracking the movement. Or maybe you’re just light-headed from the nearness of him. His mouth is infinitesimally close…. 

“You know, I think maybe some exploration is in order, after all,” you mumble, chin tilting upwards, and you can feel Jin smiling as he presses his lips to yours. 

Before the night ends, you both delete the app.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[tickle-bugs]

Ooooh ok yes I'm SO SO GLAD you love these two gorls as much as me!! As for a line of dialogue, I think it'd be real cute with Fearne like "can you *feel* me getting tickled?" to Imogen after she's gotten wrecked a bit!!

this is one of my favorite prompts I've ever recieved. hope i did it justice!!!

Summon Fey, 300gp

Imogen prides herself on control. She maintains her walls well, builds them higher when needed, and knows precisely when the risk of lowering her guard is worth it. But recently…lowering her guard has been nice. Not advisable or conducive to focus, but nice. Like the smell of a nice candle or the feel of a soft blanket, the distinct impressions of her friends’ minds are always hovering near. 

“Imogen!” Her name has a mental sound with each of them. Laudna’s is a musical trill, like a bird. Ashton’s is rough but warm, with some semblance of a rumble. Orym is a breeze. Fearne is…well. Fearne is a lot of things, but right now she’s giggling. It’s a sweet, intoxicating sound, one that swirls through Imogen’s brain like watercolors. 

“S-Save me!” Fearne squeals, curling reflexively and melting into her bedroll. Ashton isn’t letting her escape, it seems, intent on punishing her for something or other. She’s got something curled tight in her hands, but a cursory scan of her mind reveals only chaos. 

Ashton and tickling weren’t words Imogen would have put anywhere near each other before recently, but they’ve proven to be quite the menace when they want to be.

“It looks like you’ve got that handled, Fearne,” Imogen snickers, turning back to her book. After a few more seconds, Ashton lets up. Fearne clops over, taking out the good reading light with her shadow. 

“Imogen?” Fearne tilts her head. “Would you try something with me?”

“Uhm, depends on what we’re talkin’ about?” Imogen looks up.

“Just an experiment involving your--” Fearne waves her hands around her head and makes a ‘woo-woo’ sound. Imogen stifles a snort. 

“If you tell me what we’re doin’, then sure. We’ve got a bit of time to kill.” Imogen shuts her book and stows it with the rest of her belongings. 

“Oooh, that’s the thing. It will be so much more fun if it’s a surprise.” Fearne rocks on her hooves, her dress swaying around her. Imogen bites her lip. She trusts Fearne. She doesn’t, but she does. Fearne would lay down her life for her, as would any of them, but Fearne would also nick things she shouldn’t from any open pockets. 

Fearne suddenly drops to sit next to Imogen, her dress poofing up around her. A circle of small wildflowers blooms around her. 

“I would never lead you astray,” Fearne says seriously, taking Imogen’s hand in her own. “Not on purpose.”

Imogen regards her for a while, considers the low hum of others’ thoughts in her mind. Today’s a good day. Not much internal noise, just the noise she’s come to grow used to. It would be nice to preserve that--quiet is a rare privilege, after all. But Fearne is…very persuasive in her suggestive leaning and fluttering lashes. 

“Fine. But only for a couple minutes.” Imogen sighs, closing her eyes. Fearne’s mind bubbles up against her own, jubilant and warm. Imogen presses further and they both shiver. Like a hook catching, they link, and thoughts pass from Fearne to Imogen easy as a sigh. Not the other way around, those walls rarely come down, but this…this will do. Enough to entertain a Fey. 

Fearne beams.

“Of course. Juuust a couple of minutes.” Fearne pats Imogen’s hand. Mischief flares off of Fearne, circling the two of them. Imogen’s lips twitch in amusement. 

“I can feel you scheming.” Imogen quirks an eyebrow. Fearne heaves a great big offended sigh, but love floods between them like sunbeams. 

“I’ve never done anything wrong in my life,” Fearne hums, taking out a red coin purse and rifling through it. Imogen furrows her brow. Fearne’s coin purse is a velvety green, not red--

“Where the fuck is my--Fearne!” Ashton’s voice carries easily and so does their fondness. Fearne giggles and winks conspiratorially at Imogen before hiding the coin purse among her things. By the time Ashton stomps over, Fearne’s reclined against the flowers like the subject of a romantic painting. 

“You’re somethin’ else, y’know that? Where’s my fuckin’ gold?” Ashton puts their hands on their hips. 

“I dunno, where’d you leave it?” Fearne blinks at them innocently. They stare at each other intently. Fearne’s poker face is excellent, but her mind is doing grabby hands at Ashton. Imogen bites her lip to hide her smile. 

Ashton unceremoniously drops into Fearne’s lap and starts tickling anywhere he can reach. Fearne squeals, a great resounding yes! Ricocheting through her mind and into Imogen’s. Fearne dissolves into airy giggles, grabbing at everything in reach except Ashton. 

“C-Can you--Ahashton, wait--can you feel me getting tickled, Imogen?”

Imogen’s a little more focused on trying not to explode. She’s curled into herself as far as she can, eyes winched shut with effort. The more she thinks about the crawling little sparks bursting all across her torso, the more she feels the warm, solid weight of Ashton’s hands where they shouldn’t be. She tries not to think about it, but Fearne’s thoughts only seem to get louder. 

“Well, that’s interesting.” Ashton grins, pinching experimentally at Fearne’s side. Imogen jolts with a squeak. She glares at Ashton. They grin back.

“Alright, Fearne. You’ve had your fun--” Imogen huffs, starting to reel her mind back in. 

Ticklish starbursts flare along Imogen’s sides and she crumples. It’s not even--she’s not that ticklish, not really, but if Fearne thinks it tickles, then it becomes her reality. Fearne’s so tactile, too. Most of her thoughts are a jumbled mess, but she’s incredibly hyperfixated on sensation. When Ashton pokes or scribbles just so, it echoes through Fearne’s mind in a silly little feedback loop, even after he’s stopped. 

Imogen has half a mind to accuse Fearne of thinking this way on purpose, making it worse like the sneaky Fey she is, but a garbled stream of ‘please’ and ‘tickles’ immediately disprove that theory. Soon, it’s hard to determine whose thoughts are whose amid the tumbling giddy panic from both of them. 

Imogen has a terrifying realization about the power Fearne could wield with merely her thoughts. She thanks her lucky stars that this connection doesn’t go both ways.

Ashton’s hands get under Fearne’s arms and Imogen shouts, her laughter finally breaking free of her control. She flops around in the grass and downright cackles, clamping her arms tightly to her sides.  She can feel the solid weight of their hands playing with her top rib. The gentle grating of sun-warm stone is absolutely insufferable.

“You okay over there, Blue?”

Oh, fuck them. She’s not even blue anymore.

“I know you’re not blue, dumbass.” Ashton chuckles, then their gaze snaps down to the Fey attempting to squirm away. “Stop moving.” 

Imogen feels Fearne go breathless. And smirk.

“Fearne, don’t you dare!” Imogen shouts at her, clutching an arm to her torso. Fearne turns towards her, her hair cascading in pretty waves, and winks. 

“Make me.” Fearne crosses her arms behind her head. Ashton smirks. They hover their fingers just above Fearne’s armpits, making her shiver with anticipatory giggles she doesn’t bother to hide. 

Imogen catches the quiet mental ‘gotcha’ just a bit too late.

Ashton grips Fearne’s thigh and starts squeezing into the muscle. Fearne and Imogen shriek at equal volume, sending birds scattering out of the trees a little ways away. Fearne jackknifes into Ashton and wiggles from side to side, curled into their shoulder. Imogen drums her fists and heels into the ground. She’s already ticklish there, she doesn’t need help being ticklish there--

“Aw, fuck. Don’t die over there.” Ashton laughs, switching to doing this infuriating little pinchy thing all along Fearne’s stomach. Imogen screeches in harmony with Fearne. Apparently Fearne really likes this, despite the frantic little zings of ‘bad spot’ zipping through her mind, because she keeps thinking about it. Even as it happens. Imogen tries to get her bearings enough to communicate with Ashton, or maybe just beg for her life, but everything’s a bit staticky.

Tickles! Is what she manages in their general direction, wheezing up a storm. Through blurry eyes, she sees Ashton physically double over for a second. She mourns not hearing their laugh, but the little indignant huff sent mentally her way is more than enough. 

“You’re contagious. Good to know.” Ashton narrows his eyes in Imogen’s direction, tickling up Fearne’s sides instead. Imogen would heave a sigh of relief, but she can hardly breathe for laughing.

“Aww. You should laugh more.” Fearne’s voice drifts through Imogen’s brain. If she could remember which way was up, she’d point an accusatory finger. She instead settles for hurling a flustered mass of feeling back towards Fearne. Ashton pinches right at the curve of her waist and Imogen, regrettably, snorts.

“A-Ashton, do that again!” Fearne giggles brightly. 

“You are in no position to be making demands.” Yet they do as they’re told, mysteriously, hooking their fingers right into where Fearne is soft and solid. Another snort tumbles out of Imogen, then another. She can feel Fearne’s amusement lingering around the corners of her brain, like a child eavesdropping on an adjacent room.

“Cute.” Like a kiss to the forehead, it blooms in her mind. Imogen’s face burns. 

Imogen feels Laudna before she sees her, as always, her presence clear among the fuzzy collision of minds. She blinks her big eyes down at Imogen before collapsing into the grass like a puppet free of strings. 

“Imogen? Oh--” She scoops Imogen’s head into her lap. Imogen turns towards Laudna’s stomach to hide, but she tuts and turns her back. 

“I never knew you were this ticklish.” Laudna turns her head a little too far to the side to observe. Imogen makes a high-pitched noise and waves her hands around. Laudna grins and pokes her, just once. 

“I’m nohot!” Imogen buries her face in her hands again. Fearne giggles as if her life depends on it, but she does it in her head too. It would be exceptionally adorable if Imogen wasn’t wracked with those very same giggles, intent on dissolving into the earth.

“Imogen.” Laudna says her name like a prayer. “Look.”

Imogen peeks through her fingers. Around her, stones and leaves and flower petals float in lazy patterns. When she shivers her way through another laugh, so do they. She hides again with a squeak. 

“You really are incredible.” Laudna beams. Imogen whines and curls up more. Laudna laughs at her, carding spindly fingers through her hair. Hiccups start to pepper her laughter as she finds her limit. 

As Laudna holds her, Imogen finds herself once again. The walls come back up. Looking over at Fearne, though, still giggling in the grass, her heart flutters. Orym’s looming over her with more mischief than Imogen’s ever really seen from him. Without even meaning to she feels the giddy flare of playfulness that rockets off of Fearne.

“Did you have fun?” Laudna curls a lock of Imogen’s hair around her finger. Imogen squints up at her. She’s tired in her bones, in her brain, but she’s buzzing. It’s nice. 

“Yeah. I think I did.” Imogen grins, reaching up to tweak Laudna’s nose. Laudna skitters her fingers under the straps of her utility holster, hooking ever-so-gently into her stomach, and Imogen snickers. 

“T-These guys are rubbing off on you,” Imogen chides. Her nose scrunches as she giggles, fighting the urge to once again hide in her hands. Her entire being shivers, but she doesn’t resist.  

“They are. But I could say the same for you.” Laudna brushes her hand against Imogen’s cheek with a smile. Imogen allows herself to come apart at the seams in Laudna’s loving hands.