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giggly-squiggily · 9 months ago

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I am SOFT- 😍😍😍💖💖💖💖💖💖 God I love this so much- from Lee!Dazai to their banter to Dazai giggling under the blanket AHH! 😍😍😍😍😍 Ten out of ten- this is incredible friend!

The Couch (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Primary Universe

Summary: Chuuya finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with Dazai's laugh. Thankfully, the night after a rough mission gives him an excuse to hear it again.

A/N: Traveling back in time again for this one! This takes place after The Fedora, when these two idiots are still teenagers working for the Port Mafia. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1430

~~~

Osamu Dazai had a beautiful laugh. Chuuya hated that he loved it so much.

Hearing Dazai laugh for any reason always meant the man was either in a good mood (which made Chuuya wary on a good day) or mocking the redhead for something he’d done that wasn’t as smart a move as he’d make, because the annoying truth was that Dazai was also brilliant, and it irked Chuuya to no end to know and begrudgingly accept as much. The worst part was that even tickling – something that would be torture to so many others, was torture to Chuuya himself – didn’t faze the man. He loved it, the weirdo, in all of its uncontrollable and genuine glory.

So really, if Chuuya wanted to hear him laugh, he would always have to accept that it put him beneath Dazai in that moment, but sometimes…sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

Like today, when the brunette had decided to crash on Chuuya’s couch for the night after an intense mission that, admittedly, left him too weak and tired to attempt to get home until the morning. To be fair, the redhead had been the one to offer, but now that Dazai was here and making himself comfortable, he wished he’d just made the jerk take the walk of shame back to his own apartment. Or even better – to a mental hospital, because seriously, who threw themselves into the line of fire like that when it was just as fast and way safer to find another way around it?

Chuuya tossed a blanket onto Dazai’s face and grumbled, “You good, then? I don’t have to babysit you or any crap like that, right?”

“Chuuya’s so mean to me,” Dazai whined, pulling the blanket down to reveal his smiling face. “I’ll manage. Go on and get your beauty sleep. You need it.”

“You’re not going to bleed all over my couch, are you?”

“I’ll try to show some restraint.”

Chuuya grunted as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door, along with his hat.

How Dazai got across the room so fast when he was so injured was beyond him, but the next thing he knew his hair tie was being yanked roughly from his head, causing his long red locks to fall in messy strands around his face.

“Yoink!” the brunette giggled, clearly in a playful mood, and that was it. That was all it took to trigger Chuuya’s sudden, intense desire to hear him laugh. Why, he couldn’t begin to explain. The man had been stupid and reckless and was one bad coughing fit away from reopening a half a dozen wounds all over his body, but still…

“Hey!” Chuuya snapped, whirling around only to find Dazai right where he’d left him, looking as though he hadn’t moved a muscle in the few seconds his back had been turned. “Idiot – don’t push yourself! You’ll make it worse. Of course that’s probably what you want, you freak.”

Dazai hummed innocently, stretching out on the couch and pulling the blanket up under his chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chuuya strode back over to him, hands on his hips, glaring daggers at the man for a few long seconds – just long enough for a flicker of confusion to pass through Dazai’s gaze. Then he attacked, gloved fingers finding his ribs through the plush blanket, and there it was – that gorgeous smile, that beautiful laugh. Dazai’s whole body spasmed and he dissolved into giggles, squirming in place, not really trying to get away at all. “Chuuya wahahahants to plahahahay, does he?”

“You started it,” the redhead retorted, scoffing halfheartedly at his irritating colleague’s feeble attempts to lessen the sensations. “Still this ticklish through a blanket, eh? And you’re not even trying to stop me. Typical.”

Dazai whined and, as if spurred by the taunt, finally started trying to remove himself from the line of tickly fingers, shimmying further and further up so his back was on the arm of the couch.

“No,” Chuuya growled, activating his ability to keep Dazai right where he was, determined to stay here as long as it took for him to hear that laugh – that light, carefree, beautiful laugh.

Dazai’s eyes widened in surprise, but the fact that he didn’t use his own ability to cancel out Chuuya’s was proof enough that he loved this spontaneous little attack, and he let himself giggle more freely, unable to even squirm away some of the sensation now that he was being pinned by the sheer force of gravity.

“You’re a moron, you know?” Chuuya grumbled, yanking the blanket away, reaching for the brunette’s hips, satisfied when the man let out a brief shriek and began laughing softly, still unable to move a muscle. “Throwing yourself into the path of a bunch of bullets like that. I’ve seen you do stupid shit, but come on, Dazai. You could have been really hurt today.”

“Aww, you d-do cahahahahahare about mehehehehe!”

“Still smug, huh? Fine.” The redhead grabbed Dazai’s arms and shoved them above his head, the force of his ability keeping them trapped there.

“Ah! No! No, wait!”

“Wait, nothing. Maybe this will finally get you to see reason, you suicidal freak.”

Dazai would have thrown his head back and bucked his hips and started kicking, but Chuuya’s ability still had a hold of him and he couldn’t quite bring himself to break free of it, so instead he burst into loud, cascading laughter without moving a muscle, forced to take it, forced to look at the knowing smirk on his colleague’s face. Unbidden, a blush flooded his cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Dazai? Too ticklish for your own good? How’s it feel to be stuck here, huh? Oh, sure…you could get out of this if you wanted to. But you don’t.” Chuuya leaned down so they were practically nose to nose, drinking in the other man’s laughter like it was wine, letting the sound wash over him and fill him up, fueling him for the next time he’d have to deal with the brunette’s crap. In a low voice, he teased, “You don’t want me to stop, do you, Dazai? You want me to tickle you until you just can’t stand it anymore. I was worried about you bleeding all over my couch, but you know, I’m less concerned about that now that I see how desperate you look. It’s so worth it to watch you crumble like this.”

“CHUHUHUHUHUHUUYA!!” Dazai screeched, blushing even harder, wishing he could squirm but still unwilling to break out of the smaller man’s hold on him. “DON’T SAHAHAHAHAHAY THAT!!”

“Why? Can’t handle some teasing?” Chuuya smirked, finding that spot at the center of his underarms and drilling into it with meticulous purpose, enjoying the keening, hysterical scream that ripped out of the man’s throat. “Not so loud, Dazai, or the neighbors will hear. You don’t want everyone on the block to know you’re this ticklish, do you? Don’t make me gag you. I’ll do it, you know.”

Dazai laughed loud and hard for several long seconds before breaking down into silent, wheezing giggles. He tried pleading, but when his voice wouldn’t cooperate with him he finally canceled Chuuya’s ability and curled up defensively, practically rolling off the side of the couch as he begged, “Stohohohohop, Chuuya! Plehehehehease!”

Satisfied that he’d not only gotten to hear that gorgeous laugh but also made his infuriating colleague submit and beg for him, the redhead removed his hands from Dazai and reached for the blanket he’d discarded, throwing it over his face again, unwilling to see that adorable pink blush and think about what it meant that his heart sped up at the sight of it.

“There. You got what you wanted. Now go to sleep and try not to die overnight. I don’t want to have to explain to Mori that you bled out because you were laughing so hard you opened up your wounds again.”

Dazai giggled from beneath the blanket, pulling it down so his face was visible once more. Before he could walk away, the brunette sang, “Chuuya~”

“What?”

Dazai held up the hair tie he’d stolen. The redhead blinked. He’d forgotten all about that. “You look good with your hair down.”

“What—? Shut up! Go to sleep, you moron!”

Chuuya slammed his bedroom door in a flustered huff, Dazai’s laughter managing to slip through the cracks and invade his space even as he flopped into bed and tried not to think about how much he loved that laugh.

#bungo stray dogs #tickle #tickle dabble #bsd #chuuya nakahara #osamu dazai #soukoku #skk #AHHHH GOD THIS IS SOFT #😍😍😍😍😍😍😍#I love this so much abzbanznannznanznsn #🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

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zweigsangel · 3 months ago

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── ALL MINE ★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

(fratboy) hockeyplayer!chris x ballerina!reader.

you were never much of a party person; crowds and loud music weren't really your scene. but with chris’s hockey team winning so often, parties had become almost a routine. and chris always wanted you by his side. that night was no different. you found yourself at another teammate's house, the air thick with the smell of beer and the sound of laughter echoing through the rooms. your dress, a soft shade of pink, hugged your frame gently, the tiny bow at the front catching the light with every movement. as you entered, chris was already ahead of you, his tall figure cutting through the crowd effortlessly. he didn't look back, but you felt his touch as his pinky finger hooked around yours, guiding you through the throng of people.

and that’s how you found yourselves on a couch in a corner of the crowded room, the dim lighting casting a warm, hazy glow over everything. you were perched on his lap, as his arm was wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close. the smell of leather and faint cologne mixed with the scent of the joint he held in his free hand, the smoke curling lazily upward before dissipating into the air. his lips, warm and slightly chapped, would brush against your shoulder every few moments, leaving a trail of soft kisses and playful nips that made your skin tingle. as you glanced at him, you noticed how his eyes were tinged with a slight redness, glazed over with a calm that only deepened with each drag he took. the sweet, earthy aroma of the marijuana filled your senses, mingling with the low hum of music and muffled conversations around you.

you were well aware that chris smoked weed, and sometimes even dabbled on cocaine. at parties, it was almost a given. but you had always kept your distance from it, firmly set on the idea that it wasn’t for you. yet that night, something was different. your gaze kept drifting to the joint between his fingers, the way he held it so casually. the curiosity was subtle at first, a quiet tickle in the back of your mind, but it grew steadily, inching its way into your thoughts. chris noticed the shift immediately. of course— he always noticed everything about you. his lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your neck as he whispered, “what’s on your mind, little angel?”

you bit your lower lip, a nervous habit that betrayed the uncertainty swirling inside you. “what if… i tried?” you asked as you nodded slightly toward the joint in his hand. his eyebrows shot up in surprise, clearly not expecting those words from you. the playful smirk on his lips was still plastered on his face. “oh, yeah? you sure?” he asked. his hand, which had been resting comfortably around your waist, moved up to your chin, gently grabbing it and tilting your face toward his.

you nodded slightly and chris hummed in response, a low sound that vibrated between you. “okay,” he murmured, lifting the joint and bringing it closer to your lips. you parted them without hesitation. “go on, inhale,” he encouraged softly, his voice a gentle push. you followed his instruction, drawing in a breath and feeling the smoke fill your lungs. it was strange, a mix of warmth and bitterness that you hadn’t anticipated. chris pulled the joint away from your lips, watching you closely as you held the smoke inside, unsure of how long to keep it there. the seconds stretched, and before you knew it, your chest tightened, and you started to cough, the smoke escaping in harsh bursts. he chuckled, patting your back gently. “you okay, angel?” you murmured a soft yes, just loud enough to be heard over the pulsing music in the background.

as the night wore on, chris would occasionally lift the joint to your lips, coaxing you to take another drag. each time, you complied, the initial hesitance slowly fading as the effects began to creep in. it started as a gentle warmth, spreading through your body, relaxing your muscles, and making everything around you feel just a bit softer, a bit hazier. the edges of the room seemed to blur, and the noise of the party became a distant hum.

soon, you found yourself craving the closeness of chris more than ever. your fingers tightened around his shirt, seeking his touch as a newfound neediness bubbled up inside you. you snuggled closer into his chest, nuzzling against his neck, the scent of him grounding you. your head felt light, almost dreamlike, and all you wanted was to stay wrapped up in this cocoon. he looked down at you, giggling softly as he noticed how clingy you had become. he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “i’m right here, angel.”

he could feel your need for him in the way you clung to him, the warmth of your breath, scented with smoke, against his neck. your eyes, now large and slightly reddened, looked up at him, your pupils dilated. your soft sighs and the occasional murmur of his name only deepened his awareness. “okay, let’s go home,” he said after a while. he carefully lifted you off his lap, his hands steady on your hips the entire time. he exchanged quick goodbyes with his friends and he guided you through the bustling party, with a hand on your lower back. once you two were outside, he led you to his car, opening the door for you and helping you into the passenger seat.

“we’ll go to my place, alright?” he asked, glancing at you with a reassuring smile. you nodded in response, your head feeling heavy as you leaned back into the seat. it seemed like only seconds before you found yourself in chris’s bed, feeling the soft, familiar sheets against your skin. chris stood by the open wardrobe, tossing you one of his t-shirts. you pulled it on, letting your dress slip to the floor in a crumpled heap. chris, clad only in a pair of grey shorts, slid into bed next to you with a relaxed ease. you immediately curled up beside him.

“if i’d known you’d be this needy, i would have had you try it sooner,” he whispered jokingly, as his fingers plumped in n out of your tight heat, drawing soft whimpers from you, your body arching into his touch.

what a way to end the night.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #frat boy chris #hockeyplayer!chris #hockey player x reader #ballerina reader #ballerina!reader

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lady-ashfade · 5 months ago

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Abed

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ team green x hateful reader (slight Aegon x reader)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ dabble.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: reader hates cole so bad, uncanon events, targ-cest, had a thought for days and made it, team green defenders don’t come after me- because I’m not on their side doesn’t mean I am a bad person, or hate you. I understand you💜🫵

“I was abed, your Grace.”

Spinning your finger around the cup as Aegon questioned the man you hated for years and his response made a laugh rumble from your throat. Silent sweeps the room and all eyes turn to you while it goes unnoticed by yourself from the thoughts in your head. Mourning wasn’t a word to describe what you felt, anger and madness perhaps are the best words to use.

Aegon stepped back and glanced curiously at you while caught in a daze, “Sister?” his calling is enough to snap out of it. As his eyes found yours it was clear the single thread behind his eyes began to snap, “Care to share what is a jest to you at a moment like this?” all watch as he walks across the table.

“While my son is dead?” he stopped before you.

Alicent knew the hatred for Cole runs throughout your blood. Ever since you were a child you refused to listen to him, mocked him, even tried to stab him in training. Some of that hate was also for her as well but you loved her enough. Though, the way you looked at both of them with a sly smirk of what you had witnessed a few weeks before put it through doubt.

“I am just tickled, by the person who is really at fault her brother. Aegon you of course took the knights and some men to entertain last night, but I am sure there were more when I left helaens room last night?” fulling playing with them as you lean back in the chair, “If I recall our mothers hall happened to have all guards dismissed last night.”

Alicent looked frightened and wanted to beg you to keep silent as the men look at her, Cole by her side in disbelief. “Ser Criston Cole said he was abed,” looking into the dark haired mans eyes, you feel a power wash over you unlike anything you have felt. “But he did not say where.”

Aegon looked at the man who helped raise him and his jaw tighten, “tell the truth,” taking a deep breath before slamming his hands down onto the table, “Now.” He shouted and made all except you flinch.

“Forgive me, but the princess has no idea what-” pushing the chair out from beneath your legs in a haste movement and grabbing hold of the handle of your sword.

“He was bedding our mother,” the looks of shock are louder then words could say. leaning closer to your older brother, “he left his post at your child’s bed. But clearly what’s in between our mothers legs is more important.”

“That is enough,” Alicent raised up and looked at both of you in tearful eyes, “I am to blame. Punish me, we meant non of this to happen.”

“Is it true.”aegons head starts to shake, his eyes darkening.

One simple nod and cry from his mother and that’s all he needed and rushed forward to cole and start to shout and punch him. Of course cole is more skilled and managed to slip away. And as much as you enjoy some action be taking against him, you had to stop it.

“Strip him of his power, his armor but don’t kill him,” Aegon alway had a soft spot for you because you understood him, played along to his ways. “Let me handle him, and let our mother go unharmed.” Raising a hand to his cheek you stroke the skin, he was so easy to manipulate.

“He is yours, sister. Punish him however you see fit.”

I really hate coke so much. Like if i could just skip to his death i would, i couldn’t care about anything else. Idk if you are mad at that, he just pisses me off.

#house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #Criston Cole x reader #Criston Cole #alicent hightower x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen

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nastyc2nt · 23 days ago

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Dabble of Shoto that won the polls.

✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦

Sho really doesn’t like to be a bother in your relationship and never acts on most things because he’s afraid of being too much for you. In bed it’s a completely separate matter, he’s taking what he wants but gives just as much as he takes. Fucking you is the only thing he’s selfish at.

“Sho?” You purr as your felt his arms sink around your waist, his breathing tickling your neck. You try and turn your neck as far as you can get a glimpse at his face. “What’s wrong?” you lean back into his hold like normal. Shoto really only holds you so close when he’s upset, not to say he doesn’t show affection — this is just is default behavior for being upset.

A tingly sensation swept your body while you felt him place wet kisses on your neck, you could hear his heavy breathing as he’s practicing trying to eat you up. The final straw was him jerk you back into him against his harden cock, he was unapologetic. He had been think of you so much today, so many hours away on patrol and bent up from just the slightest glimpse of your clothed sex this morning. He was needy.

“Can I fuck you?” before a rough fuck, soft or a quick oral session he’s always asking for consent. He was pleading in a voice you haven’t heard before, breathily and kinda…Pathetic in a away. Yet, it sent shives down to your core and you push back into him and grind down on his tent.

“That’s it—” his hands go up your shirt to feel the naked skin and straight to your perky nipples. “I have been waiting to sink deep inside.” He’s pushing you against the nearest surface to have you spread your legs, yanking your underwear down and doesn’t take his time to get is fingers inside you. The faster you’re stretched out, the faster he can fuck you.

While he’s fingering you, he makes you stroke his painfully harden cock and whining slightly at the release of pressure and how sensitive he is.

“Precious, you remember our safe word don’t you?” he nips at your shoulder as he alines himself with your aching and clinching hole, “Tell me to stop and I will, just try to endure it for me? I need to break you.”

¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

Taglist: @sparklylanddetective @fvitos

#smut #‧₊˚✧.*ˋ°‧₊ angel writes #shoto todoroki x reader smut #shoto todoroki smut #shoto todoroki x reader #mha x reader #mha smut

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sl4sh3rsub · 10 months ago

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patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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tragicdruid · 2 months ago

Note

Ur HCs/dabbles are my absolute favorite!! They make me so happy and soft! Can I request cuddling Scara after a long day? Or perhaps Scara just comes home and lays on top of u and falls asleep!

Pairing: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, long established relationship

A/N: Thanks for the adorable request! I love this idea! <3

——x——

It was rather late in the evening. Wanderer had been running some errands for Nahida, ones that had to be completed outside of Sumeru City. Only now did he return, once you were fast asleep.

He enters your shared bedroom as silent as a ghost, gaze landing on your peaceful sleeping form. He remains still for a moment, glancing at his side of the bed before taking the long walk around until he's stopped in front of you. You're laying on your side facing him, mouth slightly ajar as you breathe softly.

The corner of his lips jerk upward as he takes in the sight, a sense of fondness filling him. He has half a mind to pinch your cheek just from how cute you are, his hand instinctively reaching towards you before he pauses just an inch from your skin. Deciding against the pinch, he thinks of something better, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and gently guiding you onto your back.

A grumble escapes you as you begin to stir awake, bleary eyes looking up at him in the darkness. You look so dumb, he thinks affectionately.

"Welcome home," You murmur, voice a little raspy as you manage a sheepish grin.

You receive a grunt of a response before he lifts the sheets up and slides underneath them, deftly climbing over your body in the process. He straddles your legs before resting his full weight against your chest, his head resting over your shoulder. You're practically sinking into the mattress from your combined weight. There's going to be an imprint there tomorrow for sure.

"Oh? Tired, baby?" You ask with a soft chuckle as you drape an arm over his waist and let your other hand rest on his head so you can drag your fingers through his silky hair.

"Shut up and go back to sleep," he mumbles, unconcerned with whether or not you were comfortable beneath him. He's tired so let him sleep where he wishes. Still, he makes sure that you can breathe properly.

Both of his arms slip beneath your head, almost cradling you in lazy hug. You can practically feel his body melt against you, his limbs growing loose and limp as he settles in place -- much like a cat. His eyelashes tickle your neck as he turns his nose into it, breathing through his nostrils languidly as he takes in your scent.

As you open your mouth to speak, you realize that he's already fallen asleep. Poor guy must've been working so hard. Your eyes flutter shut in content as you continue to comb your fingers through his hair until you too fall asleep.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #td;genshin #td;writing #td;asks #genshin impact fluff

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sunstone-smiles · 1 year ago

Text

Wake up, Ingo! (Repost)

(Reposted from 2022 because the original was somehow deleted.)

Anon (paraphrased): “For the prompt thing with wake up, maybe your [sneasel twins want to go out and play with Ingo, but Ingo wants to sleep, so the twins use tickling to wake him up!]”

Author's note: Hello anon! Cute idea! I hope you enjoy Day 21 of Tickletober: Wake up!

Series: Pokemon Legends Arceus

Characters: Ingo and the Sneasel twins: Fern and Splatter

Word count: 607

Summary: Fern and Splatter want to go play, but Ingo wants to stay asleep, resulting in the twins using a playful tactic that’s guaranteed to wake him up. Enjoy!

—

The dawn of the sun emerges over the horizon of the Coronet Highlands and the light creeps into Lady Sneasler’s cave. The noble pokemon is already out and about gathering berries, but her two Sneasel children and the Pearl Clan Warden, Ingo, reside in the cave—some much more awake than others.

Although it's early in the morning, the twins are already raring to go out and play. They hop around Ingo and try to shake him out of his slumber so that he can come with them, but the warden wants to stay asleep in his warm blanket and thin rolled out mattress.

After shaking him provides no results, Fern and Splatter run over to the end of the mattress to tug off the covers. This time, the warden shows some kind of groggy movement, but only to fix the blanket that the twins had previously shifted.

"Just five more minutes you two…" Ingo pulls up the covers over his side and tries to fall back asleep. Usually he’s awake around this time, but more sleep sounds good right about now.

Fern huffs at the warden’s refusal to cooperate. Thinking of a new plan, she hops up onto Ingo and pulls back the sheets again to reveal his side. Splatter watches, having a feeling that he knows exactly what his sister is planning to do.

Seeing that Ingo is still asleep and unaware of her plan, Fern strikes. She wiggles her claws into the side of his uniform to tickle him, a smug little look on her face knowing that the warden is completely susceptible to this little tactic and won’t be able to stay asleep for long.

Right away, soft giggles start pouring from Ingo as he’s awoken from his slumber. He opens one eye and tries to gently nudge the little creature away from that spot on his side. “Fehern, nohohot right nohohow.”

Fern tries to fight him off, then chirps at Splatter to help her. The younger twin nods and positions himself near the sleepy warden’s middle, poking his claws directly into Ingo’s stomach.

Ingo twitches. “Splahahatter, nohohot you too,” he uses a hand to now shield his tummy and gently push the small cat-like creature away. Although Ingo is more awake than he was a minute ago, he’s still not persuaded to jump out of bed just yet. It seems drastic measures will be need to be taken to get this sleepy warden to wake up!

Fern growls at his stubbornness and pulls out another trick in her book of playful tactics. She lifts the end of his uniform and quickly crawls under the fabric to start climbing around his torso. Immediately, Ingo sits up with a giggly gasp once he feels the furry creature roaming about his skin.

“Fehehern! Gehehet out of thehehere!” Ingo wraps his arms around himself to try and stop Fern’s ticklish exploration of his torso. Splatter thinks it looks like fun, so he jumps in to help too. He slips his little body under the other part of Ingo’s uniform, then skitters up and around the warden like he was scaling a mountain.

Ingo squeezes his arms to his sides and wiggles around as the little sneasel twins persist with their sneak attack under his clothes. “Ohohokay! Okahay! I’m up!”

The two sneasels hop out as soon as they hear Ingo give in. They twist around to face the warden and cheerfully squeak with a smile. The day has only just begun, but even in their waking moments, the twins are already up to their usual shenanigans when it comes to playing and spending time with their warden.

#Dabbles from Sunstone #Sneasel twins Fern and Splatter #augtickletober2022 #tickletober #tickletober2022 #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pla #pokemon ingo #hisuian sneasel #submas #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fanfic #sfw fanfiction #sfw fanfic #sfw tickle fic #tickle fic

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giggly-squiggily · 5 months ago

Text

👀 I had to-

~~~~~

Bachira wielded a new power over all of Team Z upon finding his new toy.

A Blue Lock certified massage tool.

“Wait-Wait, hang on! Bachi-RAH!” Isagi all but screamed upon feeling the dang thing drilling into his lower back and hip. It hurt so freaking bad! “TURN IT DOWN!”

“Hehe, you’re so sensitive, Isagi~” Snickering, the dribbler did as requested, turning down the pressure before bringing it back to his boyfriend’s hip. “Is this better?”

Isagi wasn’t flailing from shock any longer, but now he was shaking like a leaf, hands clutched so tightly his knuckles were white. He pressed his face down against the mats as his foot spazzed out behind them. For a second, Bachira thought he was hurting still. He went to remove it when-

“Pfft- gehahahahahahaha! Ahehahahaha! B-Bahahahahhchira pleahahahhahahse! Gehahahaha, it tihihihihickles! It tiihiHIHIHICKLES!” Isagi was laughing, no longer muffled as he arched beneath the mechanical touch. “Tuhuhuhurn it bahahhack uhuhuhup! Pleahahhahase!”

“I think it’d only tickle more if I did that.” Bachira was laughing with him, relieved and excited upon his new discovery. He carried on massaging Isagi’s hips from behind, dragging the massage tool across his lower back in such a way Isagi was practically screeching for mercy. “Tickle tickle tickle, Isagi~ I should take you to one of those fishy spas; I bet you’d be laughing just as much there!”

“Dohohoohn’t meheheehntion thahahhat-EHEHEHEHEH NOHOOHOHO!” Isagi practically howled when Bachira lowered the tempo even more, letting it gently tap along the plane where his back met his side. It felt like a line of mechanical ants creeping up the back of his ribs; tickly and pinchy and strangely relaxing?

Very tickly though. Isagi wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.

“OHOHOKAKY OHOOHKAY STAHHAP!” He pleaded, tapping out as Bachira pulled off the massager. Gasping for air, he flopped onto his back with a small groan- feeling both very tired and very relaxed. “Eheheheh..thahaht felt lihihke toohohrture.”

“Good torture?” Bachira asked with a wink, watching Isagi snort. He turned his attention to the rest, raising his new weapon of mass mischief high. “Who’s next?”

Silence, then everyone was scattering in different directions. Isagi laughed as he watched them all run, Bachira charging the first person he saw.

“AH! Nohoohoh, dohoohoh’t-whhwhhwhwy mehehehehe?” Chigiri squealed as he was caught. “Whahahait, wahahahit that’s ahahahctually nice! Kehehehep gohoohoing!”

“Pfft- you’re so demanding, Missy!” Bachira giggles mixed with the redheads, the sound making Isagi sleepy and warm. He closed his eyes, dreaming of bumblebees tickling his cheeks with their fuzzy bodies.

~~~

Thank you for the impromptu inspiration, Sprite! :D

I see a vision here of a lee!Isagi and ler!Bachira… 👀👀👀

Thoughts? @giggly-squiggily 👀👀👀

#Blue lock #tickle #tickle dabble #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi #massage tool #didn't wanna use the G word in the fic just in case #but y'all know what it is!#bonus fic :D #Bonus dabble?#this isn't for the event I just wanted to write it lolololol #bachisagi for the soul this sunday #fluff #little lee!Chigiri thrown in there cause dang it it's ME! :D #I have to- it's law if I see my boy I need to make something cute with him featured even just a bit

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giggly-squiggily · 1 day ago

Note

for sentence starters, "you're so cute" with romantic ler nagi and lee reo please!

All my Blue Lock ships- oh my heart! :D I've gotcha covered, anon!

“Reo? Are you..alright?” Nagi wasn’t sure what to think when he came in. He found his boyfriend in bed, which was normal at this hour.

What he didn’t expect was to find him completely wrapped up in his blankets, swaddled with only his eyes and nose peeking out. “I’m cold.”

Nagi stared, unmoving. Then he made a low wheezing noise as he doubled over, shoulders twitching at each laugh that escaped. “You’re so cute!” He cried, nearly collapsing on the spot when Reo hid within his cocoon. “Wahait come bahahck!”

“No! You’ve lost your Reo-privilages.” The comment alone nearly broke Reo himself, especially when he felt Nagi collapse on the bed before him. “Come back later and maybe I’ll let you in.”

“Oo, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Nagi closed the distance, climbing into his boyfriend’s lap as he worked to smooth down the wrinkled fabric. “Reeeo, let me in?”

No response. Nagi tugged some more, finding a corner. “Reeeooooo~” When that didn’t work, he wormed his way beneath the blanket, invading his boyfriend’s safezone.

Seconds passed. Then…

“GAHA!” Reo practically all but screamed when his thighs were grabbed, Nagi squeezing them with reckless abandon as he thrashed in his entrapment. “Nahahhahgi, noohohohhoohoho! Stahhaahp thahhahhat!”

“I’m a home invader.” Nagi’s reply was muffled by blankets, his giggles soft as he moved one hand up to Reo’s waist, squeezing that as well. “I’ve broke in to steal all your jewels.”

“Ahehahahha! Tahhahahke thehehehm! Thhahhek my jehwhehehehwels- juuhuhust leahahhave my trehahahhahsure!” Reo cried back, his laughter dying down some when Nagi appeared before him. “Juhuhuust leahahve my Nahhagi, pleahhahse…”

“Aww.” The white haired teen leaned in and kissed his nose, fingers tracing the outskirts of his ribcage while Reo giggled on. “Hey Reo- I chased away the home invader. It’s Nagi again.”

“Grehahhat..that’s goohohod to knoohow. Stahahp, just lay down and hohold me!” The tickles finally came to an end as Nagi did as so, snuggling close and kissing his cheek. “Wehehlcome home, I suppose.”

“Good to be home.”

Send me a sentence starter and I'll write a dabble for you! :D

#Puffs #sentence starters #tickle #tickle dabble #blue lock #reo mikage #nagi seishiro #reonagi #dorks in love #blanket burritos are a must in winter

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

Text

the wood

lilac, chapter twelve

a/n: *the author's note equivalent of just ✨moaning✨*

summary: the sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, chopping wood, kissing, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge, outdoor sex, oral, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, squirting, mirror sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 5200

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Stirring awake with a gentle groan, your arm extended in search of the body beside you. Finding nothing but linens, your eyes groggily blinked open to discover that no one else was in the bed but yourself.

Tugging your arm back under your frame, you sighed and let your front sink further into the mattress, your cheek buried itself deeper into the pillow just a moment longer before you pushed yourself up to a sitting position.

Swinging your legs over the side, you reached for the grey woollen socks you’d kicked off in the middle of the night. As you slipped them back onto your feet, your gaze caught your reflection in the round rattan-framed mirror hanging on the opposing wall.

Letting your eyes linger, turning your head from side to side, you made sure that the recently faded bruises hadn’t somehow returned to haunt you of what had occurred. But thankfully, all you saw was skin. No marks, no scrapes, no bruises, nothing physical to remind you of Preston.

Getting up, you caught the muted dark brown flannel that hung by the collar from one of the dresser’s knobs, and shrugged it on, doing up the buttons so the borrowed shirt covered you further.

Pitter-pattering out into the small kitchen, you turned on the tap and reached for a glass, swiftly filling it up for a refreshing sip.

As you lowered the drink from your lips, a satisfying cracking noise from somewhere outside found your ears and your gaze flickered to the cabin’s front door.

The sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

Just a little ways off from the hut stood Frank by a wide and sturdy stump, split wood littering around his feet as he repeatedly let the long axe in his grasp come down upon the piece balanced on the reliable base.

Utterly hypnotised, your feet hazily carried you across the porch till your fingers were gripping onto the railing. Clad in a simple grey undershirt, the sight of the prominent veins in his arms bulging, straining at every violent hack till the thick log split, caused your brain to melt, and the fact that the hem slightly rose every time as well didn’t help matters either.

Each one of his precise swings conjured a laboured huff that sounded way too close to how he had been panting in your ear just last night. Occasionally, small curses too slipped through his puffs whenever the wood he worked on got particularly stubborn, and every time, without a doubt, you felt your cunt clench.

As one log split, forcefully crashing to either side, he picked up a new one, but before he could crack it open, he rested the axe a second against his leg while he let a dollop of spit fall from his panting lips to his calloused palms, rubbing it in for better traction before he picked up the axe once more.

Tingles pricked and tickled every nerve in your body as his sinful display eventually came to a close. The soft sunlight that streamed through the treetops caught a glint of the sweat gleaming on the part of his rapidly rising and falling chest that peaked out of the neckline of his tank, dabbling his skin like diamonds.

Wedging his axe into the base stump, you continued to stare as Frank caught his breath and bent over to gather up the wood into the wide woven basket that too was at his feet, his gaze swiftly spotting your dazed form, nearly drooling at this point.

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, offering you a small wave as he tossed a few pieces of firewood into the crate.

“Huh?” still in a trance, you blinked, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as your thighs squeezed together in an attempt at soothing the persistent pulse that now throbbed between them.

“You’re up.”

“Yep, I–, uhm, I am,” you shook your head, trying and failing to clear it, “morning.”

“I’m sorry,” he picked up the heavy basket, “did I wake you?”

“Nope, no, you didn’t,” you let out a sinful exhale as he climbed the steps of the porch. Redirecting your gaze elsewhere as he set the firewood down, you stared out at the forest and coughed, “there, uh, sure are a lot of birds out today.”

“Hm,” the porch creaked beneath his boots as he neared where you stood, “is that what you were staring at?”

“Yeah, why, did you not think I was? Was there something else going on here in the forest that could possibly capture my attention other than mother nature herself?” you joked, knowing full well how obvious the truth was, “I am Dunbrook’s resident birdwatcher after all.”

“Sure, you are,” a shiver ran down your spine as his deep voice rumbled in your ear. Wrapping his burly arms around your waist, you leaned back into his warmth as he gently checked, “how are you feeling today?”

“I’m alright, pretty good actually,” you answered the question he had formed a habit of asking you every morning you’d stayed here, “I slept quite well, so that always helps things,” turning in his embrace to face him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and wondered, “how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” his gaze traced yours, following as it yearningly flickered down to his mouth.

“You hungry?”

Drawing you in closer, you heard him utter, “fucking starving…” before he captured your lips in a kiss.

A little dazed from how rapidly the simple peck escalated, you pulled back to politely pant, “oh, yeah? What are you in the mood for?”

Flashing you a smirk, he cocked his head and said, “what do you think I wanna eat?” and if his tone didn’t manage to squash any ounce of doubt you had that he wasn’t in fact talking about food, the sensation of his hands sinking down to palm your bottom though the flannel made it crystal clear.

“Frank,” you giggled as his fingertips discovered your lack of underwear.

“What?” you watched as he slowly sank down onto his knees before you, “is what a no?” his eyes stayed glued to yours as his beard tickled your thigh.

“No,” your legs gently wiggled further apart, letting him spot the glint of your want that had dripped down your inner thighs.

“No, it’s not a no, or no, you’re in the mood for something else?” you sucked in a sharp breath as his ghosting touch teased your goosebump-ridden legs, “because I think we still have a bit of bread left or there might be some leftovers in the fridge.”

Losing track of all of the metaphors through the fuzzy haze his teasing touch set you in, you mumbled, “I–, what?” and a small whine then fell from your lips, “fuck… Frank, I–… can you just–, please?”

“I can do a lot of things, sweetheart,” he pressed a peck to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, “what do you want me to do?”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, an airy chuckle flowing from your lips as you threw you head back and gazed up at the fluffy clouds visible above the rusty roof, “you’re such an ass.”

“Ah, I can be a lot worse, don’t you worry,” his devilish hands slithered up to your bottom and lightly raked his short fingernails over each cheek.

You sounded downright pathetic as you pleaded, “can you please–,“ but his playful tone cut you off before it flourished into a full sentence.

“Yeah?”

Blinking down at him, you desperately hiked the oversized shirt further up and asked, “…eat me out?”

Grin growing wider, he didn’t hesitate before diving in. Cracking you further open for him, he hoisted your left thigh up onto his broad shoulder and buried his face in your want. Holding you steady with one hand digging into your ass and the other firm at your hip, he zealously parted your petals and felt your pulse pound against his eager tongue.

As he then brazenly sucked down on your clit, your fingers sought out his dark hair, gripping it tight as your eyes fluttered, “oh my god, tha-that feels so good!”

With your brows tightly knitted together, as your eyes blinked down to meet his ever-unwavering gaze, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go at a record-breaking time, the show you had imbibed in earlier not aiding in drawing your conclusion out. Trembling above, your legs tried to close around him, but the sensation of your thighs pressing against his thick skull didn’t face him one bit as he only held you tighter and kept up his keen kisses.

Back arched against the railing, your chest rose and fell rapidly as Frank twisted his head to place pecks along your inner thigh, the soft flutter only issued a stubborn clench to your cunt in desire for more.

Hooking your grip in the fabric of his shirt, you pulled him back up and desperately crashed your lips against his, feeling your desire sodden in his beard and tasting your adoration on his tongue.

“Alright,” he dreamily disconnected from your needy kiss, “but seriously now,” he drew in a methodical breath through his nose as if in an attempt to calm his own desires down enough before he asked, “what do you want for breakfast?” clearly assuming that the morrow coitus wouldn’t go any further.

Puffing out a hazy grin, you simply let your palm drop to the tent in his trousers and leaned back in to utter against his lips, “I don’t care what’s for breakfast,” your touch tightened insistently over the clear imprint of his desire, “just shut up and fuck me.”

A silent and amazed laugh slipped out past his lips as you tugged at his waistband, “yes, ma’am,” stealing one last kiss before he spun you back around. Grasping onto the railing, your hazy gaze washed over the idyllic scenery as you felt Frank free his length and sweep it through your dripping folds, nudging persistently against your pearl before gliding down to catch your entrance with his tip.

The morning sunlight dazzled in the lake beyond, glittering and flickering just like the sparks that buzzed inside of you.

Giving you just an inch, you felt your forms sigh in unison, your breaths harmoniously synced in satisfaction.

“Did I tell you how good you look in my shirt?” his low timbre crackled in your ear like a warm fire as he slowly rolled his hips, deliberately taking his time, letting you worship every maddening detail of his cock, “because you do,” you felt his palms snake up to squeeze your tits through the flannel, “feel free to steal them any time you want.”

Mouth agape, your head fell back against his chest as shaky moans slipped out at every unhurried rock to his hips.

“You sure it’s not the lack of anything underneath that you like so much?” you grinned, your hips rolling back against his deliberate efforts.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining about that part,” he chuckled and pressed his lips to your neck, “I think you might be able to get me to do anything you wish dressed exactly like this.”

“Oh yeah?” your giggle broke up your moans, “anything I wish?”

“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly, his fingers nimbly undoing a few of the buttons and granting his grasp access to slip in and seep across your tingly flesh, “fucking anything…”

Sinking in deeper with every gentle thrust, your left hand lowered and began to draw tight circles over your clit as the other’s grip tightened around the railing, your nails leaving crescent-shaped imprints in the raw wood.

But when his lips began to wander across the side of your neck in a way that made you feel as if he was kissing every millimetre of your body, that’s when you felt your legs begin to tremble once more. The intensity of his slow pace began to grow within you, nearly being too much for you to take, so when his fingers sought out your pebbly nipples in a dizzying pinch, that’s when your frame jerked, Frank’s throbbing girth sliding out of you from just how hard you were squeezing down on him, and as your front collided with the fence, your fingertips furiously kept up their pace and kept your orgasm going, convulsing for all of the flora and fauna to see.

Leaning with your folded-up arms against the top of the banister, Frank’s burly arms, which were still enveloped around you, tightened as you felt the warmth of his front melt against your curved spine. Letting one of your hands drop, it swiftly found his and weaved itself with it as you drew it up higher to press it against your thumping heart. Though when your pulse began to calm, you raised your tangled fingers further, all the way up so that your lips could press against the back of his palm.

As you slowly unfurled your form, your fluttery kisses gently danced up his arm till you found yourself facing him once more with your lips attached to his collarbone.

His bulbous tip leaked against the few buttons that were still fastened on the shirt you wore and his wide palms slid down past your waist to knead your bottom and draw you that much closer.

Shuffling your feet, you gently pushed against his brick house of a frame for him to shift as well. Backing up, you crossed the short width of the porch till the back of Frank’s knees bumped into the solid bench that sat flush against the exterior wall. As he buckled and planted himself on it, it only took half a second for you to curl into his lap.

Grabbing the sides of your face and bringing you into a sloppy kiss, you snaked a hand down between your frames and seized his dick. A low moan vibrated against your tongue as you raised up your hips and rubbed his hardness against your slick a moment before slowly sinking down, his lips falling from yours as you did so. Gazing back at him through your lashes, you saw as his eyes stayed shut, his mouth hung agape and his head gently fell back against the wall, the sensation of your warmth enveloping him evidently rocking him to his very core.

Gliding your grasp into place over his broad shoulders, you slowly drew your hips up before easing back down, all the while taking in every little micro-reaction you stirred on your partner's face.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he groaned, hazily peeling his eyelids open to blink back at you with a stary gaze, “so fucking warm,” he leaned back in a murmured against your lips, “and wet...”

One of your elbows bent and curled the remainder of the limb over his head, your fingers weaving into his short waves as you slowly nuzzled your nose against his, gently sweeping from side to side and sharing his hot breath as you leisurely bounced in his lap.

Keeping one of his palms glued to your hot cheek, the other one drifted down to undo the last remaining buttons, freeing your tits completely. His gaze lowered to watch them sway with your slow movements, the open flannel now akin to a curtain flowing next to the soft peaks.

“Fuck,” he moaned, holding you close as his dark brows knitted together, “if you keep going like that, you’ll make me cum.”

“Good,” you panted as you too felt the end near once more. With your forehead pressed to his, you shakily rode him, keeping up the same leisurely pace, feeling every single part of him intoxicatingly stretch you out, till his groans grew louder and his eyes screwed shut, digging his fingers into your hair as his length twitched inside of you and you creamed all over his cock, your amalgamation mingling and becoming indistinguishable from one another’s euphoric juices.

Burying your features in the crook of his neck, your breaths came in ragged as you felt how tightly your cunt was clenching around him. But nevertheless, you simply stayed there, frozen atop of him and with his softening girth still embedded deep within you.

“Oh my god,” you groaned light-heartedly into his skin, “you fucking dick.”

“What?” he chuckled warmly in your ear.

“No, it’s just,” you huffed out laboured breaths as you hazily explained, “you made me cum so hard and now I feel like a fucking virgin…” but when his reaction was to try and pluck you off of him, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, “no, no!” your arms tightened around his neck, “stay, stay,” your alarming tone was softened by a shuttering whimper.

Seizing your cheek, he gingerly drew you back for him to take in your fuzzy expression, “oh, you want me to stay?” he smiled at the pout that had formed on your lips, and a sluggish nod tipped your head at his playful tone, “alright,” he tilted his chin and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hairline, “I can stay.”

“It’s dumb,” you murmured as you felt his pecks flutter down your face, “but I’m just kinda scared that if you pull out I’ll just somehow close up completely.”

“You won’t,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his chest as he neared your lips, “don’t worry, I’ll help you if it ever comes to that.”

Tilting your chin, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue swiftly swooping in to dance lazily against his own.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you felt his touch lightly ghost all along your spine, caressing up and down the length of you as your kiss grew sloppy.

As you noticed your sensitive pussy begin to relax, so too did you sense when Frank’s cock, which previously hadn’t gone completely soft yet, began to swell within you, the sensation making your hips instinctively grind down against him as the sensation consumed you.

And with his lips never leaving yours, a light squeak escaped your lungs as Frank suddenly rose to his feet, scooping you with him, his fat cock all the while still staying warm within you.

As his slow stride carried you back inside, your gaze was hazy as his kisses migrated down your neck, but when you passed the kitchen, your eyes snapped back open, “wait,” you stopped him and his lips detached from your pounding pulse, a string of saliva still keeping him connected to where a lavender love mark had begun to bloom, “I’m thirsty! I still–,” keeping one arm hooked around his neck, you carefully pointed to the half-full glass still on the counter, “my water is right over there.”

With one hand under your bottom and the other clasped at your waist, he redirected his steps and walked over to the small open kitchen. Once he reached the counters, a sly smirk seeped across his features as he commanded, “hold on tighter,” and as you did, his grip then shifted and let go of your side to grasp the glass of water.

“You know, you could just put me down,” you chuckled as he lifted the drink up to your lips, carefully tilting it and granting you a sip.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” his coffee gaze stayed fast on your lips as you drank. When you tipped your head back to halt the flow, a little droplet escaped the corner of your mouth, rolled down your chin and all the way to your exposed chest. Setting the glass back down, he swiftly dragged the back of his index finger along the glistening stripe and wiped it up, “making a fucking mess,” briefly leaning in to clean up the rest with his tongue.

Giggling fleetingly at his comment, you asked, “do you want a sip?” but he only gazed back at you and gently shook his head, other desires more prevalent in his mind.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you felt his girth throb inside of you.

As his stride slowly began to return towards the bedroom, it only took you letting your arms hang at your sides a moment for the flannel to cascade off of you and drop to the floorboards.

Craning his neck, he buried his face in your boobs, nipping and nuzzling gently against the soft flesh as you insistently tugged at his grey tank, one of your socked feet also shifted and nudged at his waistband in an attempt at getting him to the same level of undress as you were at. But unfortunately, none of your efforts yielded much success as his grip on you halted the fabric from exposing too much of his warm flesh.

You hadn’t truly comprehended that you’d reached your destination before your spine pressed against the doorframe, Frank momentarily using it as leverage as he carefully lifted you off him, shifting his hold on you as you felt his previous load begin to drip out.

Gingerly plopping you down onto the bed, you expected him to melt down atop of you and bury himself so deep inside of you that you wouldn’t be able to walk for a whole week, instead his warmth disappeared as he took a few steps back, his dark eyes glued to you and the mess between your lazily fallen open thighs, as he stripped off the clothes that clung to his bulky physique.

Raising yourself up onto your elbows, your teeth snatched up your bottom lip as you spotted the lewd stain on the front of his pants, completely sodden with your essence.

He was surely taking his time with it, putting on a show and letting you drool over every sliver of skin he revealed, but perhaps it was just your impatience getting the best of you, because when the last bit of fabric finally dropped to the floor and he stood there a second in all of his jaw-dropping glory, you heard your whine resonate within the cabin, “Frank, my legs feel like jello,” a breathy laugh slipped out past your pout as you feared he’d ask you to come crawling to him, “please get back over here.”

Choking down a laugh of his own, he painfully slowly stepped closer to you, your thighs splitting wider as he neared.

“You sure?” he playfully cocked his brow as his fist closed in around his fat base, stroking himself agonisingly close to your puffy pussy, “I thought you said I made you come so hard that now you can’t take it anymore,” smiling as you attempted to wiggle closer without any success, “you sure you can handle more?”

“Yes,” flowed from your lips as you stared at the way his grip slid up and down his intimidating length, the lingering gloss making his movements go molten, “yes, I can take it, please, I want more.”

Finally granting you a tad of contact, he tapped the hefty weight against your swollen pearl, “yeah?” gliding his free palm down your inner thigh to fight it as it jerked in response, “this what you want?” he repeated the action, the lewd soppy smack resonating within the room, “or was it more something like this,” you gasped as he suddenly slid the entirety of his length inside of you.

“H-holy shit!” you felt all of the air get pushed out of your lungs as his tip nudged against the deepest part of you, a sensation that caused your limbs to tremble at his sides.

“What?” he smirked, pulling back out completely, and gliding his weight through your soppy folds, parting them with his girth as he rubbed against your clit, “I didn’t quite catch that,” your hazy gaze fluttered down to see how far up your stomach his length rested, the staggering image efficiently causing your brain to melt out of your ear.

“Yo-you, you, yes!” you blubbered incoherently, “that–, yes!”

“What? This?” he bullied your clit further.

“Ah!” you moaned sharply, “no, no–”

“Oh, you mean this?” he slammed back inside of you so fiercely that tears formed in the corners of your eyes, “is this what you want? Would this make you happy?” he slowly eased back out, just halfway, before burying himself once more, “because you know that’s all I want, is just to make my girl happy.”

Mouth agape, you watched as he fucked you, still standing tall next to where to laid melted against the mattress, but when you noticed the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in the lower part of your stomach, your eyes grew wide, and the tangible proof made your pussy threaten to flutter around his girth.

“F-Frank!” you whimpered as he gazed down at you, admiring the way you took his entirety, “I think I'm gonna–”

“What?” he offered you one last thrust before retracting completely, leaving you squirming as he dropped down to his knees before you, “you’re gonna what?”

Both of his thumbs briefly came up to spread your puff apart for him, granting him a great view of your collected mess that still oozed out of you. redirecting his gaze to stare up at you, he placed a few teasing pecks along your glistening petals, his prominent nose nudging against your puffy clit as he teased you, making his way up to lap a cruelly light lick to your sensitive pearl.

“I am waiting patiently here,” two of his fingers came to fill you up, hooking inside of you and swiftly initiating a rocking rhythm against that spot that conjured the lewdest of squelching melodies, “what are you gonna do, huh?” and as he sucked down on your clit, he only did so for what felt like a second before it all became too intense and your pussy gushed around his determined digits, a display he had obviously hoped for as he bellowed gravelly, “there it is,” a feral look glazing over his intense gaze as he tickled out as much of your nectar as you’d grant him, “fuck!”

As you laid there quivering and shaking on the crumbled sheets, the last thing you’d expected after a high so paralysing was for you to crave more, and you did. In a deep and primal way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. In a way that caused you to sluggishly yank him up onto the bed and feel his weight on top of you, a sensation you didn’t get to savour long before he rolled around, taking you with him as he planted his head upon the pillows still at the top of the bed and manhandling you on top of him.

Body melted and plastered atop of his, you uttered into his skin, “you’re being so mean.”

Digging his grip into your hips, he grinded you down against him and checked, “too mean?”

“I–…” you thought about it a second before the corners of your lips began to tip upwards, “no… I like it, but you’re just still mean.”

Manoeuvring your molten frame, he lifted your pelvis up far enough for him to slip back inside.

“Yeah, well, what else is new,” you felt his low chuckle rumble in his burly chest beneath your cheek, “we can’t all be a ray of sunshine like you.”

Keeping his grasp glued to your hips, you swiftly discovered that your exhausted limbs weren’t up to the task of doing all of the work independently and became ever so grateful when you didn’t even have to ask for help as Frank began to rock your frame for you, moving you like a toy on top of him.

Arms curling up and retracting in against your form, you smooshed your cheek further down against his chest as you drooled on his pecks, the rocking motion nearly lulling you off into a dream, but before you could fade away completely, Frank’s voice washed over you once more.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Mhm?” you mewled as he fucked you down upon him.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

And when you did, it took your fuzzy gaze a moment before you spotted the mirror on the far side wall and the reflection in it, but when you did notice it, the shuttering moan you let out left no doubt in Frank’s mind if you had or not.

“Look at how fucking pretty you are when you’re all fucked out,” you felt him shift his hold so that he kept your hips stagnant and bucked his own up into you in such a way that caused your head to levitate just a centimetre off his pecks as his balls slapped against you from the force of his efforts, “can you keep your beautiful eyes right there on the mirror? I want you to see how cute you look when you cum…”

You weren’t sure that cute was the specific word you would have used to describe how it looked when he once again made you squirt all over his cock. But sure, you could see how in Frank’s eyes you must have looked utterly adorable gushing around him from just how good he made you feel.

Rolling over, you both now laid on your sides with your limp leg flung over his hip and his flush face clutched in your palms as you held him close in the silky embrace.

“Frank,” your woollen-socked foot caressed his lower back as it methodically moved beneath it with every lavish thrust, “I don’t think I can cum again.”

“Is that a challenge?” his warm palm slid down your frame and he pressed his middlemost fingers down upon your overly sensitive clit, “because I think you can. I even think you can squirt some more for me,” and as he angled his molten motions, he didn’t quit till your face screwed up and squelching noises echoed at every zealous plunge, “such a fucking good girl, you can do it, just let go, I’ve got you,” he talked you through your high as it crashed into you, nearly knocking you out completely as your body fulfilled his wish and his own peak swiftly followed suit as your clambering pussy milked him dry.

With sweet sweat glistening up your skin, you felt utterly boneless as you laid there in Frank’s arms. Placing a few slow pecks all along the length of his nose, he hummed contentedly and a soft smile warmth up his features.

After nearly falling back asleep in the safe cocoon that was the post-coital bliss, you heard yourself ask after you both landed on not slumbering the day away.

“You wanna take a shower before we actually figure something real out for breakfast?”

“Wow, okay,” he jokingly scoffed as he began to drag himself out of the bed, “but don’t think this is gonna work a third time.”

“What?” you chuckled as he got up to his feet and pulled open the top dresser drawer for a few fresh towels, “no, I seriously just mean cleaning up before we eat!”

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