#u want them to sound squeaky???

[sexysilverstrider]

saw a most attractive human characters in pokemon video and it was entertaining in the first few minutes but it then got annoying real fast when the ppl in the video start ignoring the protags coz they were "babies" and while i agreed and overlooked it the people start labelling some of the other characters as minors (brock misty and even N????) like. its clear yall see the former 2 as their anime counterparts but then they started to question flannerys n roarks ages n wondered if its weird to rate whether or not they like them and they kept emphasizing how some characters are clearly underage (sabrina) and im like. ok. yall boring. close video.

[rene-darling]

Listen I saw this fanart and now I had an idea. So like sub!Idol Xiao x dom reader (fem prefered but u can choose) and so basically Xiao's taking some mirror selfies for his social media in this outfit and yk like showing off those lacy panties (like they're pulled up, but he still has his jeans on) and like reader (their partnwrcomes home and sees him doing that. So they like sneak up behind him and hug him from behind. Like he becomes all flustered all of the sudden and readers like:"Oh so you're showing this to millions of people, but get embarassed when I see it?" What happens afterwards is up to u lmao

IDOL!- Xiao x reader

OML THIS IS SO- HOT. I love this concept. I'm drooling.

Possessive reader! A lil toxic I guess, but it's pretty tame.

Also! The readers gender nor pronouns are not mentioned anywhere, so feel free to assume. And if they are please feel free to tell me!

Talk to me on insta [r3xni3]😞🙏

...Xiao...

He's been at it for hours. Different angles, different poses- all to get a good photo of himself flaunting his panties and the tight straps attached to them on his waist,

They hug his body so tightly pushing at his skin, if they move even a little bit you'd definitely see the red marks under them, they push up against his skin, it hurts but, he's doing it cause his agency asked him.

"mhm..." Groans leaving his throat, the photos- they're just not good enough. Scrolling through the endless amounts of them that he took, finally landing on one that pleases him.

He decides to shoot it one more time, same angle and stuff, just better lighting. He wants to show off his toned body as much as possible. And as he does this, it- quite frankly skips his mind that he has a loving partner returning from work soon. And that soon happens to be around- now.

"Ah-!" His body freezes up. Goosebumps trace along his skin- god your hands are cold. His eyes flash down, seeing as your hands slowly trace down the side of his waist, fidgeting with the straps they came across, grabbing one and pulling it away from his body only to watch in amusement as it snaps back in place once you let go,

He reaches out to grab your hand instinctively, mewling- until you finally reach, and play with the hem of his panties.

"y/n- s-...mh, stop." He tries sounding serious, but he curses at how squeaky and pitched his voice came out.

"hm..? What's the problem darl', you can show off your panties to millions of people, but you're getting embarrassed when I see? Hmpf, I'm one of your fans too y'know?."

"i-its not the same-" he's stammering over his words "y/n- hah..-" slipping your hands in between them, but not quite touching him just yet, simply tracing the sides of his hip "and how so..? I'm your biggest fan, shouldn't I get a reward for that. I deserve more than a picture. Don't'cha think?"

Tracing down the side of his hip, he can feel your eyes peering over his shoulder, watching him. His every movement, his every shudder. And the way his panties start bulging in a specific area

"y/n-" his voice is cut off by his own whine. You're so mean, suddenly jerking his cock, tapping its tip just for your own amusement. "Aw- darlin that was too cute!..do that again? Hm? For me?..you take so many photos for those stupid fans of yours, you can make that cute sound for me again can't you..?"

Huffing, he's leaning back into your body. His head falling back with each increase in movement, resting it on your shoulder, whining back into your ear. "Hah- you- you're so mean..!"

It's not your fault he's decided to make you jealous. Seriously, why the hell should he post his body for all his perverted fans to see.

Picking up his phone and pressing record on it, angling it right at his face. "Look here baby, I'm sure your perverted fans would love to see their favorite lil idol losing his head over a few touches." His eyes widen in shock "n-no..!"

He tries grabbing the phone, but to no avail. You pull it further, and jerk his lil dick harder, he stumbles, falling forward before you grab his waist pulling him back into you, he's leaning his whole body weight against you, he just hopes you won't let go.

Snickering to yourself you decide to stop recording, and go into the photos, clicking on the video you just took, you bring it to his ears and make him listen "Aw- darling don't you just sound so cute when you're desperate."

That's when it all spills. A shameful feeling, and an ever more shame worthy whine leave him as he comes all in his lacy little panties, getting them all dirty.

His legs collapse completely as you're forced to pick him up off the floor, not that you mind.

Resting him on the bed, letting him catch his breath, you take a hold of his phone and- delete every photo he took showing off those panties.

Scoffing you throw his phone down next to him and crash onto the bed right near him, wrapping your hands around his pretty waist you hear him huff. "You got them dirty..." He could only mumble under his breath.

"I'll buy you some new ones, on one condition." Turning his head around with a slightly amused expression on his breathless face "and..that is...?"

"you can only take those photos for me. I get to see them. No one else."

[aaabatteriez]

candid sanji (in love) ᯓᡣ𐭩

⁺˖ not a writer btw just madly in love with sanji and in love with the idea of sanji being in love ☝️

ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊ ,,

since sanji is naturally flirty towards any young beautiful woman that walks by hes probably become very used to how hes normally treated by women / how he himself sees them.

like whenever he makes advances hes used to getting turned down or not rlly taken seriously but hes ok with that cuz sanji is number 1 ladies man. all he wants is to see women plural, hes not rlly a man who wants to settle down (not including wci that was lowkey forced marriage). hes a little bit of a player right? like hes a flirt to everyone not just one person.

but i think what would happen to sanji when he meets and gets to know someone and he realises that his feelings for that one person wasnt "wow you're pretty i wanna flirt with you too" but instead "i think i'm madly in love with who you are as a person and you're so beautiful that I will glady lay my heart out for you right now and spend the rest of my life with you and only you and id want nothing else" it genuinely scares him.

like he is TERRIFIED.

hes sure hes said something along those lines to other girls before.. but has he actually felt the weight of those words?? the burden of a heart that is so willing to be given to another?? not until now.

but that fear (AHHH!! AHH!! i was sooo scared!!!) doesnt compare to how he'd feel when that person tells him they would like all of that and would be willing to do the same for him.

dont misunderstand now, hes really really happy BUT HES ALSO SHAKING IN HIS BOOTS BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK??? 😭😭 ARE U FR??

he doesnt know what to do because no one has ever felt that way towards him before, and he hasnt felt this strongly about someone else before either

hes so happy but so so scared he's going to mess this up so he tries extra hard to be his usual self, the smooth talking romantic he always is

but it totally backfires cause all of his senses are heightened to the max and hes so fleeping nervous he cant think straight

charisma?? what is a charisma.

all his previous flirty remarks and witty pickup lines?? OUT THE WINDOW. hes tripping all over his words and there's a big ol lump in his throat that wont go away no matter how many times he gulps down hard and coughs

doesnt know what to do with his hands

instead of the smoothly rizzed up buttery sexy tone sanji puts on when he speaks, he sounded like a squeaky door hinge and at the same time he also sounds like hes sick with the flu

insert random silence

so fucking awkward. awkward silence. awkward punchline.

doesnt know what to do with his hands x2

forgets how to hold someone

is this okay?? is this really okay?? (as his hands are visibly shaking)

no cause his lovely lady would have to do all the initial physical contact and flirting before he can finally be an alpha and be a man and take initiative

again he just didnt wanna mess up

hes so worried about that person losing interest in him that he tries to act as his very best but it falls flat from feeling insecure / fear (ahhh!! ahh!! ok sorry ill stop)

abandonment issues!

oh he probably got real drunk and cried himself to sleep too aft messing up trying to flirt for the 1010929292938399th time

a lil bit of a pathetic man

but one who doesnt give up HES READY TO TRY AGAIN!!!

fails x2

₊ ⊹

・゜゜・．・゜゜・・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

[irisintheafterglow]

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him. 

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?” 

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.” 

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds. 

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.” 

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.” 

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait. 

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.” 

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter. 

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines. 

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does. 

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see. 

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.” 

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro. 

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.” 

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.” 

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor. 

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly. 

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Fuck (Around) and Find Out

Colin Zabel x quiet!f!reader

Warnings! Heavy smut, porn w no plot, fingering, reader struggles to moan stuff, not proofread, another quick drabble

Hopefully will be posting a full fic/ request soon. School’s been beating my ass again. Wrote this bc justice for girlies who are quiet during sex, u deserve love too. Not everyone moans like a pornstar😔

Colin was used to your silence, silent squeaks of pleasure and fish mouthed moans being basically the only pleasurable sound coming from your mouth whenever you had sex. You couldn’t help it, you both knew. But he still found it satisfying because it was you, and also from the cute look on your scrunching and contorting face as you squeak like a mouse at the stimulation. His fingers worked delicate circles around your clit, causing your thighs to shiver.

You hold your empty hands onto his thighs, clinging to them gently as your back rests flush against him as he sits against the back cushions of the couch, your body melted into him and hips raised forward as he uses a hand to spread your thighs apart, massaging your soaked slit with his thick fingers.

You gaze up at him and his eyes glance away from their focused gaze on your cunt and to the puppy-eye stare you give him, causing his heart to squeeze at the sight of your flushed and blissed-out face. He slowly builds up to work deeper, pushing a finger into your soaked pussy and curling it, massaging slowly and warming you up before sinking in another.

You feel that familiar coil bubble, your eyes glancing back down at his large, rough hands as they work on you. Invisible squeaky moans and shuddering sighs getting stuck in your throat.

Colin tries something more experimental that he hadn’t done before, wanting desperately to test you to your limit, he did some research in secret to really blow your mind. Wanting to find the best ways to understand your body and how to give you more pleasure. He curled both fingers into a strange and unfamiliar spot that instantly had your thighs trying to snap closed. But his hand on your inner thigh kept them firmly apart. You felt familiar thicker moans get caught in your throat, your mouth gaped like a fish like usual, drool spilling past your lips.

To your surprise, his thumb reached over and quickly began teasing your clit while brutally massaging that spongey spot, lewd squelches sounding from your drooling cunt as he pumped you silly with his thick fingers. Your thighs shuddered and a new sensation came over you, squeezing ghostly crescent shapes through his suit-clad legs from your nails into his thighs as you held them tighter, your head pressing back into his chest as your vision blurred. Sparks beginning to fly behind your eyes.

A new sound escapes your throat that stops you both in your tracks. A loud, sweet and erotic whine finally pushes past your lips and realization hits you of the noise when Colin falters and stares at you absolutely mesmerized and shocked, his expression quickly shifting into something more sly.

“I’m guessing it felt good?” He teased, flashing a goofy, charming smile.

You swallow dryly and nod and he quickly picks back up, fingering blasting you like no tomorrow until your whole body is quivering. Silent moans still get choked in your throat, but an occasional whisper of a whimper would break through before a final white hot wave would explode through you and s familiar hot liquid would squirt over Colin’s hand and paint both of your laps.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” Colin says endearingly, placing a tender kiss in your forehead as you go limp in his arms. Post-orgasm euphoria making your mind go numb.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3 @bellalove69420

[the-kr8tor]

Hi! I hope you're well! I've got a bit of a request (maybe? idk can be whatever u want it to be:D) So- R recently has had their wisdom tooth removed, and I think you've seen how people get so loopy afterwards. I think it'd be hilarious writing Hobie trying to keep a straight face and talk to R rambling on about some random things in the most serious manner he can muster lol

Thank you for requesting! Muah 😘 ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie's nervous for no reason, he knows you're alright behind the tooth shaped door but the sound of the drill’s muffled whirring has his spidey senses going haywire. He thinks it's the weird smell of the dentist's office and the stark white of the walls that adds to his anxiety. His leg nervously bounces to the beat of the crappy music that the dentist's assistant keeps playing on loop (torturing him basically.)

He kneads at his temple to get the scraping sound out of his ears, due to his enhanced senses that includes super hearing, he can hear every pull and tug of your tooth, unfortunately. But he thinks you have it worse since you're the one who feels every tug and pull. Or maybe he just hates it when you get hurt, especially if he can't help you or even see you. He curses the tooth shaped door for hiding you from his view. Seriously, who makes a door shaped like that?

With a sigh, the toothy door finally opens, and out you roll out of it in a squeaky wheelchair. Hobie stands up lightning quick to get to your side. The dentist smiles at him with her perfect teeth, hands guiding you out of the sterile room.

“She’s good, don't worry.” The dentist senses Hobie's worry, or she just sees it etched on his face. “Your girl's a bit loopy because of the meds but it'll wear off in a few minutes.”

Hobie kneels down to face you. He almost laughs loudly at your swollen cheek that makes you look like a squirrel that's hiding its nuts inside its mouth. He rubs your knee softly to wake your foggy self based on how glossy your eyes are. Drool drips from the cotton in your mouth and he swears he almost loses it right there and then.

“Hi, love, ready to come home?” Hobie smiles softly like he usually does when he finds you endearing. Despite all the bloody saliva dripping out of your mouth.

“Hat?” You ask, voice murmured by the cotton. Hobie guesses you said ‘what?’ instead of asking for his invisible hat.

Raising your hand to his face, you give him a good pat on his cheek, you then let out a giggle that sounded more like a cackle. It all makes him raise an eyebrow.

“You gave her the good stuff huh, doc?” He asks, never leaving his eyes off your disoriented self.

The dentist chuckles, “just give her paracetamol for the pain and don't let her eat or drink anything for an hour or two if she can help it.”

“Thanks, doc.” Hobie gives her a polite smile while standing back up to his feet. “Ready to walk with me?”

You narrow your eyes at him, eyebrows knitted, hands balling at your soft pants. You dressed for the occasion, or rather, dressed down for it. You had the foresight to know that you'll be bleeding all over your clothes right after. Like how you are right now with one of Hobie's old band shirts. He clearly doesn't mind since he owns a hundred like them. But he won't miss the opportunity to tease you about it once you're sober and well awake.

You look at him like he told you the copper you gave him is in a poor state. “I hab boyfriend.”

“I know you do, it's me.” He sees the dentist crack a smile. “Get up, love, you'll kick my arse if we miss your episode.”

“Episode?” You once again ask with wonderment.

“Yeah, that dragon show you like so much. Up you go.”

“Dragons?!” Your voice echoes out in the room, like he just told you dragons are real. You stand up quicker than he thought you could. “Really?” Your question cements what he thinks. “They're dragons right? Not wyverns, they're different creatures y’know.” He tamps down a laugh.

Holding you by your biceps, Hobie flicks his eyes behind you and over to the dentist who just shrugs with a grin. “Her tooth was stubborn. Sorry, I could've given her the lighter stuff but she would've felt it.”

“That's alright, doc, this is how she usually is.” He jokes, which you chortle at. Well at least you recognize humour amidst the fog of whatever concoction the dentist gave you. “Thanks again.” He waves goodbye whilst he guides you out of the clinic.

“Why are you so pretty?” You look at him with sparkling eyes like you're about to cry from his sheer beauty. Tapping his chin, cheek squished against his shoulder, you don't look at where you're walking as you continue to admire him in the sun. “So p-pretty…like a-an angel.”

Hobie does all the walking for you, his arms are looped around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the pavement. The tips of your shoes grazes the concrete as you squish his cheeks in your hand, making him pout from your cuteness overload.

“An angel? Just last night you called me a dick for eating your mango.” How could he know you were trying to save it inside the fridge?

You giggle, “mmm, mango.”

“I'll buy you a hundred more if you continue to dote on me.” You two finally make it to the van, he thanks his abilities for not getting winded out by the trek.

You lean back dramatically, making Hobie catch you in his arms. You both look like a cover from a romance novel.

“I can't! I have a boyfriend.” You say with your whole heart, and as serious as you can with your mouth full of cotton.

“Fuckin' hell.” He laughs, lifting you back up before someone in the street sees. “I'll buy you some ice cream if you get in the car. Mango or chocolate flavour?”

“I will,” you poke his chest, “not be,” poke “bribed by you–you stranger!” You poke him several times.

Hobie catches your finger mid poke. Leaning closer to your face, he smells the iron from your mouth. You sniff, moving your head away from him with a pout.

“Love,” he says sweetly, catching the back of your head before it falls further back. Laying his forehead against yours, he gives you a minute to recognize him from his warmth alone. He'd give you forever if he can. Holding your hand, he raises it to his chest, letting you feel the familiar thump of his heart. He remembers that you do it whenever he gets home from patrol. “It's me, yeah?”

Hobie doesn't realize the tears brimming in your eyes. He stands up straight at the sound of your quiet sobbing.

“We're gonna miss the dragons.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks, the cotton in your mouth threatens to fall out as you weep in the parking lot with him trying his best to wipe the tears while he coos softly at you.

Hobie definitely has his work cut out for him, now to get you home without crying about dragons or acting like he's kidnapping you. Yet, he'd gladly do it all over again if it's you.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

as someone obsessed with pussy steve, it drives me insane because i was doing my final exam today and all i was thinking about is "am i going to read the same pussy steve blog of S? yeah tf i am" and im here requesting from u some more pussy steve bc goddamn thats my obsessionnnnn. plus it's my first time asking u to write anything (i dont do shit but read things here and trying not fail school at the same time)

related to this pussy Steve ask

also... we're channeling this vibe shamelessly as we continue on from that last post, still set during WWII

Good job with your finals!! Let's dive in 👀

Steve can't fucking take it anymore, groaning as he flops back onto the squeaky, lumpy mattress that's supposed to be his bed. They've been holed up in this goddamn remote rubble city for what feels like years after clearing the town of HYDRA and Nazi agents with no action to burn off his excessive energy. The once standing city has long since been evacuated because of the air raids. The bombs have flattened almost half of it, shaking the other half immensely, but without orders to go elsewhere, the Howling Commandos are lying low, trying to plan their next move on their own. It feels like a waste just to march all the way back to camp but they don't have any other leads. Not yet.

And the Howlies have scavenged the area already, gathering any remaining, surviving food that isn't their shit MREs, plus having made sure no civilians were left behind before sitting down to talk and plan.

And talk and plan and talk and plan.

Steve can only strategize for so long, he can only play card games for so long, he can only draw on scraps of paper for so long; the serum has left him even more hot blooded than he was with all this vivacity he couldn't've dreamed of before, as thin and sickly as he was. So it's a fucking problem. Sitting still.

Waiting.

They should be doing something. Seeing action. Doing good. This is war. It feels so bizarre to sit between what they have just seen and what they're going to see. Bad things.

So, yeah, Steve is having a hard time unhelped by the fact that they're stuck in the one reliable structure that happens to be a small inn with thin walls. It's a blessing to have their own rooms and real beds, just enough rooms that they only have to pair up rather than sleeping in a dog pile together, but they might as well be together with these paper walls. Thus, Steve is being extra careful as he attempts to burn off some steam, alone while the others do... whatever... out in the main room (maybe a game of poker?) by stuffing the undershirt he's been wearing beneath his red white and blue uniform into his mouth.

The shirt tastes of salt and musk, balled up and packed between his teeth, filling his mouth, keeping his jaw open. Keeping the sounds he wants to make down. Most of the sounds. He can't help the sounds his body makes that don't come out of his mouth... wet, slick squelching sounds from between his legs, his fingers plunging deep into himself as if he's trying to get to his heart. In the scenario where he wanted to get off and be done with it, he'd be making tight, hard circles around his clit, pressing down against it hard, impatient and rough with himself, making himself a little raw with it but a lot sensitive--but that's not what he wants right now. He wants to burn through energy now. So, he has two fingers crooked inside his pussy, plunging them in and drawing them out slow enough that it makes him crazy. It's enough to feel good, so, so good, but not enough to get him off.

Steve's not wearing his uniform without the undershirt while he fingers himself. Well, he's not wearing it in full. He's kept his pants and boots on in case they need to get up and go, but... his pants are gaping open.

He's undone the long zip and aaall the latching buttons, ripping the taps as wide apart as he can get them without just taking his pants off. His hand shoved beneath both layers--pants and underwear.

His boxers are ruined. Wet. Soaked.

Registering just how sticky and wet he is, pulling his fingers out of his cunt to trace his puffy, swollen slit, he plays with his own wetness. He's dripping. He doesn't touch his aching clit directly, but he does put pressure on the legs of it, tracing the v down his vulva, spreading his legs wider, just a tiny bit, so his lips are out of the way as much as they can be, exposing himself, touching himself, and--

Choking on a whimper as electric pleasure shoots through him.

That's the closest he's let himself get to touching his clit in, in... however long it's been? An hour? Two? Ten minutes?

Steve doesn't let it last. Instead, blearily, he presses his middle and ring fingers back into himself. Back into the scorching, melted heat of his body. His foot kicks out, restless, needing something to do with the thick lust building inside him. Groaning softly through his shirt, Steve arches his neck, lifting his head off the bed just enough to let it come crashing back down heavily, giving his sweat-soaked blonde hair an impressively ruffled style.

As thoughts as he feels--his coherency consumed by pleasure--Steve suddenly flushes, wondering if Bucky will be able to smell it on him when he's done (if he doesn't already know what he's locked himself into their room to do). Once he's worn himself out, cumming on his own fingers after too much build up to be comfortable, leaving himself hurting with too much tension and desire, will Bucky know? Steve will button and zip up his pants and put his shirt back on and waltz back out there, but will it all be only for Bucky to corner him away from the other guys and maybe tip his chin up, fingers on his jaw, eye-to-eye, give him those dark eyes that say, I know what you did, maybe Bucky will kiss his neck and murmur to him hotly, or maybe he'll bend him over, their clothes still on, his cock a hot, thick line in his trousers, pressed against his slit, sweet talking him with his players voice, saying filthy things about how he can smell it on him like he's a bitch in heat with the most syrupy tone, crooning so Steve will get stickier, wetter, and gooey-er. Melted in the center like some kind of oozing, chocolate dessert. Hot and ready to be devoured.

Bitten.

Licked.

Swallowed.

Steve is thinking about his best guy's cock and he's thinking about his mouth, too, now. He's thinking about those sweet talking, wicked lips. He's thinking about his immaculately styled head of hair between his thighs, going to town. Not an ounce of reservation in the way he dives into him, in how he licks, how he slurps, how he fucks.

Jesus Christ.

Steve's jaw works around his balled up shirt, clenching. His throat contracts as he swallows thickly, praying that he doesn't wail like he wants to. The sound is in his chest, rattling around, building into this aching pressure. He can't fit anymore arousal inside himself. He's gonna burst.

Then, when he's weak and he just can't fucking stop himself, Bucky on his mind like always, Steve curls his fingers just enough to catch the raised spot inside him, spongy and sensitive. So fucking sensitive. His sweet spot that causes his hips to involuntarily buck up, searching for more, needing more. If he weren't gagged, he'd be moaning for it.

Moaning Bucky's name.

Bucky's on his mind already, so, of course, he wants Bucky on his tongue, too. Worse, he wants Bucky inside him. He wants him so bad that he's fucking aching, clenching around his fingers, hips squirming, toes curling, panting. He wants Bucky's cock in him so bad, slamming home so he's leaking around it, wetting his balls and smearing all over both of their thighs. He's a slippery mess.

He wants Bucky so bad that he has to stop thrusting his fingers in and out of his tight cunt to work a third finger into himself, chasing the girth of his dick. He can't get as deep as Bucky does, and it's just not the same to the point that, that--

Steve garbles out something of a sob. His eyes sting with tears. His head is so hot with frustration. Hazy and smoking. He can't think. He can't keep his rhythm. He's shaking.

Fuck.

When he pulls out to add another fingertip--stretching before he eases the entire length of his own finger in--he realizes he can smell himself. Already, he could smell himself wafting up from his unwashed shirt, sweaty, but now he can smell the hot, briny musk of his own arousal, carried on the sex-thick air of the quaint inn room. Humid and heavy.

He can smell himself. Sweat, musk, and leaking slick. It's an unmistable scent that turns Steve on more than it should, considering it's his own smell, twisting up in his gut and making him feel tighter, tenser, hotter. He can taste himself. Sweat, musk, and dirty, unwashed cotton coating his tongue, dripping down his throat, joining the lust already pooled low in his belly. He can hear himself. Slick, squelching, and lewd with his fingers curling inside himself. Muffled and drowning with sounds dying in the back of his throat before they have the chance to come out of his mouth. The soft snuffling, shuffling sounds of his pants folding and brushing against the bed sheets, fabric rustling and creaking as his thighs spread instinctively until the the seams groan. Every sound is another piece of wood added to the fire, burning hotter until it crackles and pops with the explosions of hot sap. Steve is feasting on these sensations as much as he's feasting on the slick, velvet feeling of the inside of his own pussy. He can touch himself. Smooth, wet inner walls that cling so tightly to his own fingers. If he could lift his head, the weight of his empty skull, so weakened, he could see himself, too--his hand moving in his pants, the veins running over his muscled forearms bulging with the effort of working his fingers so much.

God, he wants more in him.

His fingers work faster, curling a little harder, plunging deeper until he's erupting with another garbled cry.

He wants Bucky's cock in his pussy, throbbing with the pound of his best guy's heart, at the same time that he wants Bucky's thumb to sneak down between where their sweaty bodies collide with every frantic thrust, slicking the digit up with Steve's overpouring wetness until he reaches back, traces the sensitive, pink flesh between his legs to get to his asshole and pops it inside him, too, giving him something extra. Extra stuffing, his thumb in his ass, pressing back against his pussy. The thin wall between his holes. Giving him something more to clench down on while he wails, crashing over the edge as Bucky grinds so deep he can taste it, choke on it, so deep that his pelvis rubs on Steve's swollen clit and makes it impossible not to cum.

Guh.

Steve is drooling, soaking into his own shirt, thinking about Bucky.

Drowning in pleasure from his own hand.

Steve is rocking up into his hand, his hips with a mind of their own, or, rather, mindless in the pursuit of pleasure, instinctively rutting, humping, rolling, and just going. He's trying to swallow moans and gasps to varying degrees of success. He knows not all of them stay down in his tight, heaving chest, but he doesn't know how loud his noises are, his heartbeat is too loud in his ears.

Regardless of his noises, he keeps chasing his pleasure, his clit swollen and peaking out as much as it can from it's hood--leaving it vulnerable and draaagging just lightly against the heel of his hand. It's agonizing. With every feathered drag of his sensitive clit against his hand, it's making his sounds grow worse. He will be wailing soon no matter what he does. No matter how much he tries to keep it down.

It aches.

It hurts.

It feels sofuckinggood.

His jaw is working so hard that it feels like his teeth will rip into his shirt soon. Gah. Oh, ah, yeahh--

The temperature keeps going up and up in and all around Steve, fever hot, when the door swings open.

Steve is so tightly wound that he can't freeze. There is no way to stop the forest fire within him. It's going to have to come to its own conclusion when it has burned through everything he has, only ash left. Nothing can put him out.

So it's a damn good thing that it's Bucky that walks through the open door, hurriedly slamming it behind him when his eyes land on Steve's debauched, twitching form on the bed they've been sharing. A cold rush of air comes in with him, leaving all the hair on Steve's body to stand on end in salute. He quivers harder.

Bucky wastes no time. He is deadly, vicious in his pursuit--the sound of the door slamming hits Steve's ears, delayed with his mushy brain, and then Bucky is immediately on him like a predator pouncing.

His body is heavy on top of him, pinning him with the drag of his uniform against Steve's sensitive, sweat-glistening skin.

Real.

He's so real that it's visceral. It's not just Steve's heated, out-of-control fantasies as he approaches his orgasm without breaks.

Bucky cages him in with his body, one of his hands planted by Steve's head, steadying himself, while his other hand grabs ahold of Steve's forearm to rip his hand out of his pants.

Steve does wail then, through his makeshift gag.

The look on Bucky's face is evil, mocking him playfully, asking, oh, really, is that how it is?

After all these years, they read each other like open books. Steve knows he knows how turned on he is, and it's devastating. Bucky probably knows just based on how much he's blushing and how he can't keep his eyes open, how long he's been going at it for. He knows how much it aches to be untouched when he gets like this. Especially now. Post-serum. It's all he can think about. He can feel his heartbeat pounding in his pussy. He's hot and swollen and so wet that it brings stinging tears to his eyes. God.

He's so fucking needy.

He needs Bucky. He needs--

Bucky sticks both of Steve's hands above his head, crossed at the wrist, and uses one of his own to pin them there. Steve could easily break away any time, but now. He's so worn down. He's weak. His brain has gone out of his head, and all of his super-strength has drained from his body out of his weeping cunt. He's depleted. He can do nothing by lay there, helpless and vulnerable, as Bucky shoves and pushes and shimmies his pants and underwear down. He barely gets them halfway down his thighs before he stops, and because of it, Steve sucks in a sharp breath through his balled up shirt. The air of the room is shocking against his soaked, sticky center.

Guh.

GUH!

Steve makes a fucking stupid sound when Bucky quits messing with his tangled up pants to instead mess with his pussy. He slips one, then two, then three inside him. Fast. A predator tearing through prey, no time to think, just do. His shit eating grin tells Steve that he's impressed with how sloppy he's gotten himself, and he wants to cry in embarrassment but also pride.

With three fingers inside him, Bucky curls them and grinds them deeper, deeper, curls, deep, curl, deep--

Steve's head is spinning. He doesn't even know what Bucky is doing to him. It just, it, it, ohgod, his eyes roll back so far, so hard it hurts, it feels so good. It's wrecking him. Whatever he's doing to him. Maybe it's Bucky's reckless thirst for him. Maybe it's the serum burning like venom in his veins. Maybe it's both of them mixing together into one harsh cocktail, so intoxicating it immediately makes him drunk.

The things Bucky is doing to his body make Steve want to shriek in pleasure. He's letting go of his wrists but it's not like Steve can move anyway and it's for good reason that he's not pinning him anymore because instead he's pressing down on his belly with that hand as he curls his fingers more, more, more, curling them towards himself hard, pressing so hard on that spot inside him that Steve doesn't even, he's not even sure he can comprehend the pleasure cutting through him, it's so much pressure building up inside him, taking more space than he realized he had even inside this bigger, stronger body, he can't, he's not strong enough, he--

Steve gasps and squirms, not understanding, wanting to babble, oh, oh, Bucky, what-I, I'm-! Wait! What is that feeling? Why does it feel like that? Wh--he can't, though, he can't say anything, his mouth stuffed.

He screams behind his teeth and--

Steve fucking whites out.

He's there one minute and then he's gone in a flash. Too much pleasure. Too much pressure. Too good. He's half convinced, totally out of his mind, that he's exploded or, or...

Oh.

As Steve returns to himself in bits and pieces, still shattered in the aftermath, he's almost sure he's lost so much control of himself that he's pissed himself. He's so fucking wet. Soaked down his thighs and down Bucky's wrist. If he has pissed himself, then he's given everything up to Bucky, his body entirely his lover's, every part of it, but then.

JesusfuckingChrist.

Then, Bucky's voice breaks through the ringing in his ears, and he's softly, quietly purring to him, mindful of their thin walls in a way Steve has not been while being stripped down to the bone in exhausting, overwhelming pleasure. Bucky's voice is all low and hot, too turned on as he works Steve through it, touching him much softer, nicer, lighter while he tells him how fucking hot that was, watching him, feeling him squirt around his fingers. And, holy shit, he's gonna make him do that on his dick. He will.

It's a promise.

Now that he knows he can make Steve squirt, he's gonna do it all. the. fucking. time.

Steve whines through his gag, his body trembling hard with his fading fever. Oh. It hits like a sledgehammer to the back of his head. He's going to die. Bucky is gonna kill him, making him squirt, making him writhe, making him want to crawl out of his own body, giving him too much gutteral, visceral pleasure.

Bonus:

I've had a draft sitting here on Tumblr for a while that simply says:

Lil pussy Steve domming big, beefy Bucky. Steve's wearing a pair of panties to a party, getting them messy in a closet or bathroom or... both... where Bucky fingers him until he cums, then, once they've finished and Steve is desperately wet, he makes Bucky put swap underwear with him. Bucky obeys because of course he's done--he's big and he falls hard. Steve's wet, dirty panties, though, they're much too tight and remind him for the next few hours (hours that Steve, the introvert, suspiciously makes them stick around the party for) exactly of what they did. How he made his dom squirt and make these panties wet and smell musky and hot like his pussy does. Ruin them. Ruining the panties, ruining Bucky.

Plus, the whole rest of the party, Bucky has to live with the fact that Steve doesn't have any underwear on because rather than put Bucky's boxers on, he shoved them into his pocket where he could take them out at any time. Fuck, they could fall out at any moment! Bucky can't focus on a single fucking conversation.

And it's not until they get home that Bucky gets to cum.

When they're finally, finally home, Steve pushes Bucky down onto the floor, mounts his lap, and grinds into his hard, hard cock bursting out of his teeny-tiny, too-tight panties. The underwear is so little and delicate, all wet lace, that Bucky nearly ripped them putting on his bigger body. Demanding him to cum and ruin them further, one of Steve's thin, bony hands constricts around his throat.

Oh, yeah, he owns this big, subby mess of a man.

So... do with that what you will 😏

[s1llysmut]

Aaaa i was the ine that requested the charlie x reader comfort:3 it was so good thank uuuu!!! Sozz if im overbearing w requests but!!! Lute x fem reader nfsw alphabet? :3 thankk uuu smm

A/N: Absolutely! I wasn’t sure if you wanted Lute as more dominant or submissive so I just wrote her how I see her. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes, I wrote this pretty late.

NSFW alphabet for Lute

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I’m gonna be so real with you, she doesn’t mean to but she falls asleep ASAP. Can you really blame her though? She deals with Adam all day.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favourite body part on herself is her wings. She sees them as a very important symbol of her status in heaven. Her favourite body part on you is your ass. She hates to see you leave but she loves to see you go if you know what I mean ;)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She will ride your face and make you lick her clean. I’m return she’ll do the same for you, however, it might just make a bigger mess.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Her wings are really sensitive. She doesn’t tell anyone since she doesn’t want anyone to use her weaknesses against her. If you touch her wings she will let out the sluttiest moan you have ever and will ever hear.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She knows a thing or two. Not super experienced but she still knows her way around a pussy.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

If she’s wearing a strap on she wants you to ride her. She wants you to work for your pleasure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s not goofy at all. Everything she does is done with focus, effort, and precision. There is no way she’d be goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She doesn’t completely shave it but she does trim it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It honestly depends on her mood. She can be romantic but she doesn’t really enjoy it. It makes her feel too vulnerable.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If you’re not home and she’s feeling extra needy she is not above riding your pillow and pretending it’s your face. Of course she will never tell you and everything will be squeaky clean by the time you’re home.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage. Seeing you tied up at her mercy makes her feel so powerful.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bedroom. She’s not freaky like that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If she’s stressed out her libido sky rockets. She also loves to see you in just a bra or a crop top.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite Adam’s pleas she is NOT inviting him to join.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She much prefers receiving. She loves using your mouth as her own personal fuck toy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She is fast and rough. She loves when you’re at mercy, unfortunately she doesn’t have much of it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She’s neutral on them. She honestly just doesn’t care.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes but nothing public ever. She has a reputation to keep up.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She can last about 4 rounds. She sees it as a challenge and she’s not about to back down.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns a classic vibrator and a dildo for herself and you, but she owns rope and cuffs for you only.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She is really unfair. She wants you begging for her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Overall she’s not that loud unless she’s cumming or you touch her wings.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If you own your own house together and she sees you walking around the house in just your underwear she is eating you out then and there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

C cups. Not huge but not super small either.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. We’re talking 3 times a week minimum.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Immediately passes out on your chest. Cleaning up can wait, just play with her hair and let the poor baby rest.

[wulvercazz]

Wrote a smutty thing this morning 👉🏼👈🏼 hope u enjoy💫

// frotting, feral behaviour , Ichigo and Grimm being horny and desperate✨

Ichigo kissing Grimmjow out of the blue, because he suddenly couldn’t contain himself, and the way that little shit-eating grin flashed his way just had his skin burning for it. Holds his jaw and jaw bone mask in his hands with urgency; melts when Grimmjow starts kissing back.

They’ve done this before, usually like this, when they’re tired and their defenses are low, delirious on joyful blood loss. Careless enough to put their teeth so close to one another.

And it’s perhaps all those little occasions, usually cut far too short — awkwardly or violently — that have build up to this moment. Grimmjow’s hands fight between pushing and pulling at his tattered shinigami kosode, and Ichigo’s crawl needily to his nape and shoulder to hold him tighter somehow. Their teeth clacking every so— not uncomfortably, but chills run down Grimmjow’s instincts nevertheless, possessive vibrations try to crawl their way up Ichigo’s throat.

They separate with a gasp— for barely a second — and Ichigo pulls back with full force; hungry hands reaching for his hip and ribs, like he could meld them into his own.

He swallows hungrily another gasp from Grimmjow, and the tail end of a warning growl. Ichigo’s reckless, always has been, when he throws all caution and cavalry out the window and pulls Grimmjow’s warm body up and closer by his ass. Grimmjow hisses into his mouth, are they fighting, even now? But his hands continue that indecisive, stuttered push and pull; if Ichigo didn’t know any better, he’d say he was kneading his shoulders like a cat.

He’s not fully aware of where the unnatural sounds come from in his own person, but something eerily wanting drawls out of him and into Grimmjow’s mouth. If he wasn’t such a slut for pain, the piercing flash of white from the arrancar’s claws would’ve had him limp in seconds; but he’s a freak, like that. His hands grab eager fistfuls of annoying cloth and pinch a bit of soft and muscled flesh underneath, curls his whole body into Grimmjow but never once thinks of leaving his lips, of stopping his teeth and tongue from fighting his. He ruts into the squeaky yowl he gets in return, thrusts to the rumbly, annoyed growl pouring into his tongue; fucks into Grimmjow’s clothed crotch and taint at the same time as he pulls on him like an animal. And he only commits further to the role by letting more of those hollow whines to spill between them. Almost yips and croons when Grimmjow’s hips stutter forward against his abdomen; uncontrolled little thrusts that only have the heat growing more desperate.

There’s only half-breaths and gasps and half growls within the minute space left between them, skin flush to skin even when clothes don’t allow it. Ichigo’s cock so confident it’s fucking into Grimmjow’s body even while it merely bullies him from inside it’s clothed prison. Sweat, and drool and cum sticking everything up enough to feel as though it’s the real thing; their movements never stopping even when pleasure blinds them enough to finally separate their hungry lips from one another just the slightest, and pulls loud howls from their ribcages.

Chasing the near pain of being too close when their bodies feel so raw and used and sensitive. Basking in the awkward, panted breaths as they lean their full weights on each other, whatever triggered the onslaught is still simmering under their skin, too much too fast— and somehow not enough. Instincts barely satisfied, but the brain races with a million doubts.

Neither lets go.

[sweetlummie]

Pretty Boy

sub!Joel Miller x fem!reader

!!! 18+ content. If you’re a minor go away !!!

A/n: Hi everyone! Quick post for tonight that I’m kinda iffy about- I may delete later depending on how I feel! This story was based on a convo I had with @dionysusinparis (this is for u baby 💗) This specific story was made with game!joel in mind but you can picture show!joel if you’d like! As always constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 🫶🫶💗💗

Warnings: handjob I guess- and mommy kink. If I missed anything pls let me know!

W/c: 765

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

Joel had come home from a long patrol. His body was aching, he wasn’t as spry as he used to be. He wanted nothing more than to just come home to his doting lover, take a quick shower, and crash for the night.

He walked up the creaky stairs making sure to avoid the squeaky steps so as to not disturb you if you were asleep. He went into your shared bedroom to find it empty. He turned to the bathroom door that was connected to the main room which was slightly ajar, light slipping through the cracks and the sound of running water coming from behind it.

Joel called out your name and the bath faucet squeaked shut. Joel walked over and opened the door to find you sitting on the closed toilet, hunched over the bathtub. You hear him come in and greet him with a smile.

“Hi honey!” You beamed as you stood up and placed a kiss on his cheek. “What’s this?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around your waist and looked down at the bubble and pinkish/purplish tint of the water, probably some bath salts you got from a trade you made with someone in town. “I ran you a bath! I figured I could take care of you tonight..” you smiled sheepishly, worried he wouldn’t like it.

“Oh.” Was all he said as he began to take off his clothes. You watched as he peeled off the dirty and sweaty clothing items from his tired body, your cheeks getting hot at the indecent sight of your lover’s nude body as if you’ve never seen him like this before.

Once he’s rid of his clothes he sits down in the warm bath, grunting as the warm, sweet flower smelling water soak into his exhausted bones. You kneel down next to the bath as you grab his shower rag and lather some soap on it. You turn to look at him with a smirk.

“You gonna let me wash you baby boy?” You ask teasingly as you squeeze the rag, making water slosh down into the tub and run down your wrist. Joel looks at you, his own cheeks becoming red at the proposition. “Sure..” was all he could mutter as he got closer.

As gently as possible you began to scrub his body, making sure to massage it as well with every swipe of the rag. You gradually got lower and lower till you got to the place you wanted to most.

“Oh.. someone is extra dirty down here hm? Want me to wash them good baby?” You cooed as Joel tensed, your hand traveling down to cup his balls. Joel let out a sigh that seemingly sounded like a whimper.

You watched as his eyebrows knit together as you massaged his balls. “Such a good boy..” you whisper and move your hand to wrap around his hardening length. “What’s this?” You gasp. “Someone sure is eager for mommy to take care of them hm?” You began to pump his cock slowly as Joel actually lets out a low whimper.

“Tell me baby, do you want mommy to take care of her pretty boy?” You asked as you kept a slow and steady pace, Joel’s eyes were closed as he rested his head on the tile behind him.

“Fuck.. mhh. Mommy- please take care ‘f me..” Joel pleaded as he gripped the side of the tub with his palm, his hand white knuckle tight with the immense grip.

“I can’t hear you…” you teased again as you completely stopped pumping his cock. Joel began to whimper out once more. “No! Please! Don’ stop! Need mommy to help me- need ‘er to take care ‘f me!” Joel sounded so needy and desperate. You couldn’t resist, you simply had to help your deprived baby!

You grabbed his throbbing dick and began to pump quickly, Joel’s moans filled the air along with the wet sound his cock was making as you moved your hand up and down.

“Ungh! Mommy! Gonna- cum-“ Joel barely managed to say as his pearly white cum spurt out and covered your hand. You changed your speed and slowed down to help him work through his orgasm all while whispering some encouragement in his ear.

“Such a good boy! Mommy is so pleased with you, my pretty boy!” You smiled as you kissed his forehead, Joel was still panting trying to recover from the orgasm. He slowly smiled back as he sank down in the tub. Maybe he does like when mommy takes care of him.

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

[ohbo-ohno]

https://www.tumblr.com/ohbo-ohno/728955236158423040/omgomgomgomggggg-u-mentioned-reader-locked-in-a

Okay I just saw this ask and omg.

The tug of war killed me. Now all I can image though is the boys sneaking a squeaker into the belly of the bear some how so when the reader is really scared and squeezing tight it squeaks?! And the boy immediately turning and saying “aw does puppy want to play?” And reader being so confused but also then starting to associate the squeak with the bear so they get happy when they hear it. The boys teasing the reader because they are just like a real puppy excited about a squeaker, but the reader can’t help it because they have been Pavlov-ed.

Also hear me out them getting reader and bear matching collars? so bear gets leashed in the nest to?!

Also Also the simon and johnny bears in the bad cage?! my heart! so mean but also i wonder how long it would take before the reader ends up using them for comfort in the bad place. (I hope the simon bear is like a halloween skeleton bear… )

Love seeing your responses and writing as always!💕

-🎃

yeah that's seriously one of my favorites, i loved the asks and i loved writing for them.

yeah i was possessed with that tug of war thing. it popped into my head and i felt like God Himself had spoken to me. no one should be at all surprised if it pops up somewhere else in my stuff, just longer and better written

SQUEAKY TOY! SQUEAKY TOY! SQUEAKY TOY! it's only right you have on of your own, when johnny has been biting you to make you squeak since the first time he got his hands on you.

the pavlov of it all omggggggg. them making sure to make you squeak it nice and loud so you associate the sound with your good comfy stuffy, buy also you think chew->squeak->good because they pet you and praise you so nicely. gotta teach the dumb little puppy how to play with her toys :/ it's in the fic i just recommended (here) but i also love the idea of a vibrator attached to a chew toy, so your brain associates chewing with sexual pleasure. a very quick way to get you nice and conditioned

and with the collar - all day yes. what you wear, your stuffy wears (pretty easy since you're mostly naked, but i also present you the image of ghost agonizing over a sewing machine and desperately trying to make a mini version of your cute new outfit). you two are always matching. you wear a collar that matches the stuffy's perfectly, because of course you do! you two have to match!

simon and johnny bears in the bad cage 😔😔😔 they're there to keep you company!!! you get so scared in there all alone, and now you're not! a perfect solution! really, you should thank them.

and of course you start to see them as a comfort. they feel just like your other stuffy when held tight to your chest, it doesn't take long at all for you to start squeezing them close for any speck of comfort when all you can hear are the screams echoing off cement walls. ghost fucking loves watching you snuggle the little stuffed him for comfort. such a clear sign to him that you're giving into him more and more :') anyways yeah johnny bear and simon bear are the only nice things you get in the bad cage

(ghost and soap picked stuffies for each other - ghost is a skeleton bear and johnny is a very doofy looking bear)

[euijoosorangeslice]

gamer!bf!taki playing games sitting in his gaming chair when u need him and ride him while hes on mic and tries to be quiet so his friends wont know 😵‍💫 plzzz make a fic out of this i cant write for shit 🥹

Temptation - r.ty x reader

wrngs: public sex? (on call), riding, public humiliation, creampies, pet names.

You knocked on your boyfriend’s door, waiting for him to answer. He opened it, looking oddly nervous. “Hey baby. Uh, I forgot i promised to game with Yuma and Jo today, so just let me know if you need me, okay?” He explained, a small smile on his face.

“Okay, baby.” You whispered, sitting on his bed and playing on your phone. You opened every app, trying to find something to distract you. But there was nothing much really going on. You dramatically sighed, slumping your shoulders. Crawling off the bed, you leaned over and kissed your boyfriend on his neck.

“Taki…I’m bored.” You whispered, trying to avoid his friends hearing. “And I need you.” Taki inhaled sharply, continuing to play on his computer. “Just a moment, sweetheart.” He responded, refocusing on the game. You whined, pressing your hand onto his crotch. “Right now.” You watched his face burn red as you pulled down his sweatpants. In your defense, he did promise you two would hook up today.

You hadn’t felt your boyfriend’s touch in a long while, since you were studying abroad in college. Since you were back now, you wanted to spend your time with him.

“Babe, I’m in the middle of something.” You ignored him, pulling off your underwear from under your skirt and throwing them on the bed. You pushed down your tank top, letting your boobs sit outside of them for easier access. You could hear the boys shouting through the headphones, and when you saw the game was ending, you pulled his cock out of his boxers and sunk down. Taki gasped, taking his hands off the keyboard as he tossed his head back. The feeling of your hole swallowing his cock whole was enough to make him pass out.

“Yo, Taki are you good for another round?” Yuma asked, making you smirk. “Say yes.” You whispered, Taki wincing. “Y-yeah?” He answered, voice pitching up as you started to ride him. “Okay, let’s go!” Yuma shouted, starting up the game. You covered Taki’s mouth with your hand, circling your hips and pushing him deeper in. “You really like this, hm?” You whispered, Taki whining as he gripped the chair.

Taki moaned, twitching and shutting his eyes. You removed your hand, leaning against his set up and feeling as he bucked his hips up. “Damn it, we’re too loud.” He whispered, grinding into your heat and holding your waist. He had already forgotten about the game he was supposed to be playing, too focused on moaning as your walls gripped his shaft. “Taki, focus.” Jo groaned, Taki flinching. “Sorry.” He mumbled, grabbing onto your waist harder.

You bounced harder onto his cock, the chair you were sitting in making a squeaky noise with every contact. “Fuck, Taki! Give it to me!” You moaned loudly, making him whine in embarrassment. “Dude, are you screwing your girlfriend?” Yuma laughed, Jo quietly snickering. “I- uhm…fuck baby, yeah? Sorry.” Taki answered, reaching past your hips to refocus on the game. “Sound more like she’s fucking you.” Jo teased, making you giggle in between bounces.

“Shut up. I f-fuck her perfectly, for your information.” He defended, scoffing in annoyance. “And actually, I want you to hear it right now.” Taki stood up from his chair, bending you face down over his gaming desk. “To be honest, she’s dripping all over my floor right now. I think she likes the idea of you hearing her.”

You wiggled your hips in the air, enticing him to get inside back of you. He swiftly slid into your hole, still loose from your activities just a moment ago. The noise of you sucking him in was loud enough for his microphone to pick it up. “Damn, she really is wet.” Yuma chimed, his voice in a lower register than usual.

“She’s a screamer, watch.” He rammed his hips into you, grabbing your waist with sharp thrusts. “Taki! Shit- you’re so fucking big.” You cried, arching your back as he repeatedly slammed into you. You met his thrusts, moaning with every contact as he grunted behind you.

“Fuck- ‘m g-gonna cum!” You whined, writhing in pleasure as he toyed with your clit. It didn’t take long for you to shake from pleasure as your orgasm waved over your body, making you let out a series of screams. He slowed his thrusts, burying himself deep inside of you as he came. “Gonna breed you so good.” he whispered in your ear, smiling as he marked your neck.

For a moment, the room was filled with pants and the sounds of the games background music. “You guys are real freaks.” Jo complained, hanging up on the call. Taki chuckled, pulling out of you slowly as he watched the cum drip from in between your thighs. Yuma cleared his throat, chiming in again. “You guys need a third?”

[candysharkart]

any chance we could see or hear more of Stella Pesto? I love her design 🧡

thank u :)! and sure i have some!

shes bi (still sort of in the closet) and not interested in re-marrying right now

peppy social butterfly popular girl type. also does love being a catty bitch sometimes

dated jimmy for a little while when they were in high school together, but they didnt really click so they were broken up long before graduation and didnt keep in touch after

only ran into each other again in their 30s by chance and both decided it was time to settle for comphet. they're both pretty happy they got kids out of it tho.

she is moderately more successful than jimmy and works as an editor for a regional culture magazine

she REALLY wants to be a popular travel foodie blogger type, but she very rarely leaves the east coast and shes. got basic white woman tastes. shes nice to staff and tips well at least

fav hobby is posting pics she knows jimmy will mistake for a fancy vacation. he falls for it every time

her work keeps her from being with the boys as much as she'd like but she's got equal custody of them

very supportive of jj's dancing

both she and jimmy will claim that they divorced bc the other was gay but they dont actually know that about each other. they just didnt work out.

shes the reason for the restaurant's "classier" touches but she would never claim that tacky olive garden mess now.... her brand of tacky is MUCH more high brow

and for funsies i think she'd sound nice voiced by someone like paget brewst*r or kath s0usie! i think they both have endearing mom voices, and itd be cute if her voice was a lil scratchy and squeaky like the twins :)

[latibvles]

a kiss while slow dancing for jo and rosie please!

DO IT ALL AGAIN.

jorosie u will forever be famous I fear... takes place after Rosie's 25th mission. He has News and Josie has a whole lot of feelings. this is sweet. I need to squeeze them until they make the dog squeaky-toy sound.

—

The Officers’ Club is as busy as it’s ever been after a mission with no casualties. And Jo finds herself in a similar position — people-watching, drink in hand, watching in quiet enjoyment that there are no missing faces, no empty beds. It’s all so familiar and yet so different. She hardly recognizes the faces here; they’re all so fresh, so young. They’re free of the hard lines and grays that had started sprouting in the hair and crevices of her more familiar friends’ faces. Jack’s only 24 and already going a little gray. It was all still so strange, so abnormal. Months ago she would’ve been in the middle of Fern’s rapid-fire gossip, or pulling June by her arm away from another argument. Now they were—

She catches herself before she can follow that thread too far and unintentionally ruin this for herself.

This being the movement around her. The smiling faces. The clinking glasses. It’s all so familiar and yet had been sorely missed in the days following their subsequent Berlin bombings. The past several missions with very few casualties had imbued them with something — maybe a small sliver of hope in the grimness of the situation. Jo could work with a sliver, but they just needed to give her something.

This, all of it, is  a welcomed comfort — always hard earned, when it comes to this group.

And at the very least, the faces that were missing were gone  for better reasons. Most of Rosie’s Riveters left this morning, given an exuberant sendoff by Lemmons and his boys. She didn’t get the chance to say a proper goodbye, but Pappy promised to write, so she wasn’t too torn up about it. Well, that wasn’t… exactly true either. She’d wanted to be there. Wanted to see Rosie off, before he went home. It was silly, really, how she’d let these feelings fester for so long. But they’d festered and he’d taken root in her chest and now she had no means or intention of dislodging him from there. She liked him; liked the stories he’d tell, the smiles he’d give her — watching himself work up the courage to ask her to dance every now and again, even though he likely knew the answer would always be yes.

Now she feel like a child kicking a rock down a dirt road all because she couldn’t look him in the eye and say goodbye. Petulant, bordering on huffy.

It doesn’t change the fact that she is kicking herself over this, pulled taut between wanting to be happy and already missing him terribly. She should’ve asked for his address, should’ve promised to write, should’ve—

“Jo!” Her head snaps to the sound abruptly, eyes widening. Rosie’s all smiles, looking pleased with himself and likely with the look of shock on her face — lips parted, eyes widening as he approaches with arms spread at either side of him. …how?

“You’re not…” He’s pressing a polite kiss to her cheek, she’s taking in a breath as she looks him up and down. “Wasn’t your flight this morning?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” Rosie promises, then eyes the floor, the bodies in motion. He watches for a moment, mirth evident in his eyes, and she’s just taking in the sight of it, trying to comprehend the fact that he’s still here. “Y’know, all these nights in here and I just realized that I haven’t taken you for a spin in a while.” Jo, still grappling with her own bafflement, lets out a small laugh at that, a little nod as she eyes him curiously. There wasn’t much time for dancing these days, and not much reason to do it, either. There’d been his 25th celebration — soured by the fact that the mission requirement was upped from 25 to 30.

Hell, she and Willie had made it to 25 just the week before him, with their crew full of not-so-new-girls. But they knew they were staying. Willie wouldn’t leave until Viv came back, and Jo wouldn’t until all of them came home. But… that’d been their choice. To stay, to find consistent roles for themselves in this ever-rotating carousel of airmen. But now that choice had been ripped away from anyone that wasn’t his crew. It wasn’t a good incentive to start dancing.

But he’s offering his hand to her now. Because there’s a reason today, isn’t there? No deaths, no dreadfully missing faces, a chance to actually… get an address, say goodbye when he does leave.

Jo is taking his hand and he’s guiding her with a look that makes her stomach do a flip. Something warm and soft, affectionate in all the ways that make her nervous and safe all at once.

He spins her first before pulling her into him, his hand finding her hip with practiced ease, and Jo just knows that this is one of the many things she’s going to miss about him. The warm roughness of his hand in hers, the hand on her hip and the way he sways with her — looking boyish in all the ways that make her flush and feel really seen. Like she’s something to adore, to marvel at. She squeezes gently at his shoulder, holding his sunny-side-up stare.

“Thought I’d missed you this morning,” she admits, and his brows raise.

“Was wondering what that long face was for,” he wonders aloud, and she watches a soft flush rush to his cheeks. “Sorry about that. Had a… a busy morning.” Jo tilts her head to the side, curiosity piqued by the vagueness of the statement.

“Oh?” He nods, and his hand shifts on her hip, so that it’s resting more on the small of her back. Her face feels warm as his hand presses against her there, nudging her just a little bit closer to him. There’s warmth there, in the space between them; the kind that’s comfortable, safe.

“Had a meeting with the Lieutenant Colonel this morning,” Rosie explains, looking past her as he says it, eyes focused on some point on the wall behind her. She keeps her gaze fixed on him as his tongue pokes out to run over his lips a moment, and then he sniffs. Nervous. She squeezes his shoulder again in assurance that he could leave it there if he felt necessary. “We talked about me maybe… sticking around this place a little while longer.”

She feels her breath hitch in her throat, staring at him with mouth slightly agape, staring at him for a long moment, scrambling for words as they continue to sway.

“So you’re staying?” she manages, but the words feel like they’re being squeezed from her nearly-petrified tongue and teeth.

“350th needed a new CO, Bennett figured I was the guy for the—”

“So you’re staying?” She repeats. She doesn’t mean to cut him off, really she doesn’t. But his words are playing in her head over and over. Him, still here, as the 350th’s CO — it’s all so much in such few words. She doesn’t feel dizzy, but definitely a little weak-legged, and the emotions are probably a little evident on her face, because he’s smiling at her. Something full, flashing teeth, his blue eyes lit up in a way that makes her heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, Josie, I’m stayin’.” Jo lets out a soft, disbelieving scoff, and his body rumbles in a chuckle that she can feel beneath her palm. His thumb rubs a small, gentle circle into her lower back. He’s smiling at her and she’s still grappling with the reveal — embarrassed by the fact that she’d spent so much time kicking herself over not saying goodbye. Her lips tug into a smile, as the shock slowly ebbs away for a more undeniably selfish feeling: gratitude. Thankful that he was staying, that she’d know more than one face on the carousel. She was getting better at that — not scolding herself for wanting things— wanting him, here, with her. Josie, she loves when he calls her that.

She doesn’t even realize she’s leaned forward to kiss him until her lips are pressing against his — soft, chaste, earnest. And really, it doesn’t even register fully until his lips are pressing against hers with similar gentle force. It’s only then that she pulls away, face flushing and staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

He laughs, breathless, shocked, cheeks ruddy and she’s never wanted to hide her face more.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— well no I… I meant to do that one- one day. Maybe not just this instant but I—”

“If I’d known you were gonna do that I would’ve tracked you down as soon as I got out of the meeting.” He takes a quick glance around the room; personnel too caught up in their own partners or conversation to bear mind to the brief kiss shared between them. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Rosie—”

“If you think, for one second, that I’m not doing that again, uninterrupted, then we’ve gotta get your head checked, sweetheart.” His voice is so light, so playful, that it makes her giggle when he laces their fingers, tugging her off the floor and out the door — all for a chance to kiss her again.

[pristine-rose]

so….. hear me out…. kokomi & miko threesome

🪷

bro what did u just say 2 me rn

warnings : female reader oh and also [redacted], how yummy ++ kokomi’s horns are real okay just think of mei ^_^

𝐍𝐎𝐓-𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 || 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

it’s a tag-team kind of blasphemy.

one that has you on the ground, knees scrapped on the shell flooring as a way of self-sacrifice before your master—or, as those know as the watatsumi leader.

she was a fierce and strategic general; she was one who was peace enough to counter the shogun herself. and yet, while you knelt here, tongue delving into her folds, she was shy. so timid and adorably squeaky, the mewls that spilled from kokomo’s lips were muffled and loud at every drop you drank from her.

and you could see her face so clearly from below, too. her head was tilted up, mouth agape as her hands scrambled to cover them.

perhaps, restriction was key as a certain shrine maiden held both of kokomi’s horns in her hands. you weren’t going to lie—you totally thought they were fake, just headpieces to adorn her cute little head. but as miko smirked while she ran her thumbs so sensually up and down their curves… that’s when you knew otherwise.

“she’s so sensitive…” miko mused. “and you get to touch her like this every day…” she seemed almost jealous of you—just the thought of having the grand watatsumi leader crumble at your tongue every night.

“she wrote to me, you know,” miko continued. “begging me through letter to come here just for ‘a new book’.” the words were spat through her teeth in what sounded like ridicule, but you couldn’t blame her. no, not when you yourself was dripping so obscenely on the floor. “i should’ve known she was dirtier than that.”

the fox suddenly yanked at the leader’s horns, and kokomi gasped. her face flushed instantaneously, completely embarrassed of the noise she made. but as she squealed when miko lifted her, it was only then you suddenly found yourself lying on your back.

“sit.”

you couldn’t even grasp a second to register what was happening before your head was trapped between kokomi’s thighs, her core landing right atop your mouth. miko pushed down the woman’s shoulders, forcing her down onto you.

“n-no… wait…!” kokomi cried. her whole body tensed as you began to lap her up immediately, only causing miko to grin.

“you can take it, darling,” she patted her back. the moment the fox let go, kokomi was practically shaking. “don’t worry, i’m sure your little friend wouldn’t want you to hover, hm? look at how much she’s enjoying you…”

and by the end of miko’s words, your practically gasped when you felt the fox’s nails dig into your thighs. your core… your core with felt so swollen and pulsing with arousal—you could almost scream into kokomi’s thighs when you felt miko roughly grind onto you, scissoring you with no remorse.

it all felt so good, with miko’s ragged breaths beginning to resound with kokomi’s own cute little screams, and with the wet sounds from your own tongue. miko reached forward with both her hands, wrapping around the watatsumi leader and gripping hard are her breasts. “you think we can make her finish before we do?” she said to you.

but it was barely a challenge, truly, when kokomi near-screamed as she already came into your mouth.

send me more three ideas what

[anzynai]

Hello, love your writing! For the tickle letter ask game, mind if I ask for E, H, I, L, Q, and W with Azul? Sorry if that's too many letters!

AHHHH YESSSS I WAS WAITING FOR AN AZUL ONEE thank u so much for sending this <33 hope u like them!

E: Expression | How do they express their wish to tickle/be tickled?

tbh, he wouldn’t necessarily wish to tickle people often, but when he does, he would like,, hesitantly poke them a couple sides to gauge their reaction and get more confident if it’s a positive reaction! it gets really obvious around the third or fourth poke, though LOLL

on the other hand, he would express his wish to be tickled kinda like, idk how to describe it, but kinda provocative? but more in a way to distract himself, like he would give jade and floyd more chores or give them a sudden rest day whatever and ofc theyd know bc it was unusual for azul to be like this. plus, i feel like he would flinch more often when someones close to him (which is adorable!!) so yeah.

H: Habits | As a lee/ler or both, do they have specific habits when it comes to tickling?

i think, not on purpose, but when he’s tickled, sometimes ink comes from his eyes. people get w bit concerned if they arent a mer LOLL but its jusy something that happens (also i love azul ink HELPP this is tbe most random thing ever im sorry) also, he squeezes his eyes super tightly.

as a ler, i think it wpuld be silly if he would accidentally try to use his extra limbs (that he doesn’t have) to tickle you more but then he would falter, which could potentially give u the upperhand if you’re quick enough

I: Interrogation | How well would they handle a tickle interrogation?

GAHHHH i give him three minutes. tops. well, to crack at least. once someone finds a spot that drives him crazy enough, he will start laughing and will not stop. but tellinf u want u want to know.. well, you’ll have to work for it. (just start tickling his death spots and eventually he’ll tell you anything)

L: Laughter | What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?

ITS REALLY DEEP AND LIKE,,, calculated(?? its him trying not to embarrass himself with his “real” laugh) but thwn it gets squeaky and snorts all around. its usually surprises ppl bc it just seems.. so.. out of character, which is why he’s so embarrassed by it. its super cute though.

Q: Question | Their response to the question ‘are you ticklish’?

his response wpuld be so funny. first, he would look at you, whipping his head around. a blush would appear on his face, but he wpuld try to cover it. afterall, flustered wouldn’t do well for his image. clears his throat out of nervous. “tick—ticklish? of course not! what a strange thing to ask!” then, desperately trying to change the subject (it doesn’t work about half the time).

W: Word | What is their reaction to the t-word? Can they say it out loud or do they get embarrassed?

by the word in general, he’s not. though, he wouldn’t just throw it around but he can say it fine. (unless on the occasion, he’s feeling.. some type of way?) HOWEVER, if it’s regarding his own sensitivity, now that’s a different story. he will say it if he absolutely has to, but not without a bit of a stutter or blush, so yeah, he avoids it at all costs haha