april
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,260
- Points
- 63
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT6nr7292/
Nick
The dream-realm shimmered like starlight poured across glass, every surface glowing with a soft, otherworldly light. It was your dream, you knew it, felt it, and yet it wasn't entirely yours. Nick had slipped inside, bending it, shaping it, chasing you through its radiance as though it belonged to him.
You ran barefoot, laughter tumbling out of you like bells, your heart hammering in both thrill and fear. Behind you, his voice unfurled; low, velvet-smooth, teasing with dark promise.
"I'll give you to the count of ten..."
You risked a glance back and nearly stumbled. He was the most gorgeous thing the dream had ever conjured; tall and lean, every muscle sculpted with a predators grace. Jet black hair slicked back in a rakish wave. Skin pale as moonlight, and eyes; those piercing blue eyes that glowed almost white in the dreams strange light. He looked like hunger itself dressed in beauty.
"One...two...three..." His lips curved into a smile that made your stomach twist.
You giggled breathlessly, forcing yourself to run faster, though your body already knew it was hopeless.
"Four...five..."
But he didn't finish. The numbers died on his tongue as he launched forward. The world tilted as Nick blurred into motion, impossibly fast. A squeal left your throat as his arms locked around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground. He spun you in a dizzy whirl of laughter and light, your feet kicking uselessly in mid-air. Then his fingers plunged into your ribs; merciless, clever, relentless.
"Nick! Oh god's! Please, stop, please!" You squealed, thrashing in his hold, laughter bursting out of you uncontrollably.
His mouth brushed your ear, his chuckle low and rich. "Do you really think I'd wait until ten, little star?"
He lowered you to the glowing ground only to pin you instantly, wrists caught above your head in his iron grip. His weight pressed you into the dream itself, his body a pale silhouette of strength and beauty. He dropped his head and began kissing along your throat; light, tickly kisses that made you gasp, giggle, and writhe.
"Ahhh! Nick, please dont! It tickles, please!"
He only smiled against your skin, trailing down to your collarbone, leaving a constellation of tickly kisses in his wake. Then lips turned sharper; playful nips at your ribs that sent you thrashing.
His grin deepened, eyes glinting wickedly as though your begging were the sweetest music he'd ever heard. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed his nose against the hem of your blouse, nudging it higher until your belly lay bare beneath the dreamlight. His stubble scraped over the soft skin, teasing, unendurable.
"Tell me just how unbearable this is for you." He whispered against your trembling stomach.
"It's too much! I can't! Please...stop!"
His voice vibrated against your skin, warm and merciless. "Not a chance, love."
He gave into his desires as his mouth claimed your belly; ticklish bites, flicks of tongue, teasing kisses scattered like fire. You shrieked with laughter, every plea tangled with your giggles.
But he only laughed, low and delighted, his blue eyes alight with mischief. Each desperate cry only fueled him, every thrash of your body only made him hold you tighter. He had you caught in your own dream, pinned beneath the most devastating tormentor imaginable, begging for mercy, that he had no intention of giving.
Nicks mouth was still at your belly when it happened; you thrashed too hard, too suddenly, and your knee struck him squarely in the groin.
He grunted and rolled off, his body curling instinctively, one hand pressing low as his shoulders shook with a pained laugh. For the first time, you weren't the one breathless, he was.
Your hands flew to your mouth. "Oh gods, Nick! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried, scrambling back on your elbows, guilt and laughter laced your voice.
He lifted his head slowly, black hair falling into his eyes, and those piercing blue eyes softened now with amusement rather than fire. His lips curved, not into a predators grin, but into something sweeter.
"Run," he said at last, his voice a husky murmur that still carried amused laughter. Then, softer, almost coaxing, "Run and hide, little star. I'll even pretend I didn't see which way you went."
And then he winked; sweet, playful, almost boyish. "But fair warning...when I do catch you, I'll have to tickle you twice as much. You know. For my poor, wounded pride."
You ran, the soft ground glimmering beneath every step. And then you stumbled upon it. A hollow tucked into the side of a crumbling wall, barely wide enough to slip through. You dropped to your knees, scrambling inside, your breath quick and uneven, pressing your back to the cool, luminous stone. For a moment, there was only silence. The thrill of hiding. The dangerous hope that you'd fooled him.
Then...movement.
A shadow falls across the narrow entrance. Nicks voice purrs through the opening, soft and amused. "Little star...I can feel you in here."
You froze, your breath caught in your throat as Nick lowered himself to the ground. His broad shoulders filled the opening, blocking the only way out. He moved slowly, deliberately, crawling inside after you, his lean frame folding like a panther pressing through a narrow gap. With each press forward, the space narrowed until there was nothing but him; his scent, his warmth, his overwhelming presence. You pressed against the wall, but there was no further to go.
"Found you," he whispered, soft and playful, his grin both sweet and dangerous.
"Nick...please...wait..."
He shushed you with a mockingly gentle sound. "Shhh, little star. You know you can't hide from me. You can't hide any part of you from me." His voice curled low and sweet, almost Jacob-like in its warmth, but laced with Merrits dark promise.
He lifted one elegant hand, and the dream obeyed. Starlight bled from the cracks in the wall, threads of it swirling like ribbons of smoke. They coiled around your wrists, before drawing them upward, pinning them high against the stone, holding you spread and helpless.
Your gasp broke into a nervous giggle. "No, no! Wait...don't..."
"Don't what?" He whispered, leaning close, his breath brushing your cheek. "Don't make you laugh until you cant breathe? Don't make you tremble? I know you want this. I know it turns you on." His grin curved, slow and seductive. "That's exactly what I want."
His fingers began at both wrists, trailing down the curve of your arms, a whisper of a touch, before hovering at your underarms. His fingers were so close, you could feel the phantom tingles. Then, with devastating patience, he traced the hollows there; light, circling touches that made giggles burst from you instantly. He stroked with one fingertip, then all ten, sometimes slow, sometimes sudden, until you were laughing helplessly.
He pressed a kiss to your temple as though in comfort, but his fingers only teased faster. "Mmm. I love the way your laughter shakes through you. It's beautiful...you've no idea how hard it makes me."
The words sent fire rushing through you, laughter spilling out even as heat coiled low in your belly. Every cruel, slow stroke made your body jolt and ache with need.
He slid lower, fingers spreading around your ribs possessively, pressing between each tender space. He kneaded and fluttered with unhurried precision, wringing shrieks from your lungs. You arched violently, begging incoherently, while Nick watched with hunger in his eyes.
"Mmhm, beg pretty for me," he murmured, dragging his tongue along the edge of your jaw. "Tell me how badly you want me to stop...and how much you love that I wont."
Your pleas broke into ragged giggles, your body hot and trembling as though every nerve were alight.
His mouth trailed lower, he nosed beneath your blouse as he'd done earlier, baring your belly to the glow, his stubble rasping across the tender skin, followed by warm lips that pressed those infuriatingly soft, tickly kisses.
"Nick please! Not my stomach, I'll lose my mind!"
"Good," he whispered, his voice a growl against your skin. "I want you to lose it." He lingered there, devouring you with his lips and teeth, until your laughter cracked into broken moans, the line between torment and desire blurring.
Your thighs clenched, your body arching, every nerve alive with unbearable need. The dreams bonds held you open and helpless for him, your arousal rising with each sensual kiss.
Then he opened his mouth wider, letting his teeth graze teasingly across the soft curves of your belly, nipping just enough to make you squeal and jerk beneath him. When he reached your navel, he lingered there with wicked patience, dragging the flat of his tongue around the rim in lazy circles, dipping inside to flick and swirl until your laughter rose into shrieks. He alternated between sucking lightly at the sensitive hollow and biting playfully at the skin around it, the combination unbearably ticklish and devastatingly intimate. Heat pooled low in your core, leaving you shaking on the edge, unable to escape the worship of his mouth.
Nick chuckled, low and wicked, as though reading the heat in your body. "Oh, I feel how wet you're getting," he teased, dragging his hands slowly down your trembling side. "Laughing and begging...it turns you on, little star, doesn't it? You love when I undo you like this."
When he withdrew from your stomach, you cried out in protest. He only smiled; that devastatingly sweet, beautiful, knowing smile. But then he captured your ankle, sliding your foot into his lap. He smirked then, eyes gleaming.
He read the panic in your eyes.
Reveled in it.
He stroked your sole in measured, sensual patterns, each one slower than the last. You howled, pleaded with him, but beneath it all, your body throbbed with arousal. He traced each toe, worshipful and cruel, before lifting your foot to his lips. He ran his cheek across your instep, his stubble doing its wicked job as he kissed you there, his tongue sliding along the underside of your toes.
The sound that broke from you was half laughter, half moan.
Nicks grin was triumphant, his eyes drinking you in. "Perfect," he murmured. "You can laugh, you can beg, you can scream, but you'll stay bound in this dream, aching for me, until I decide youve had enough."
Bound in dreamlight, body aching and aroused beyond reason, you could only laugh and beg as his mouth descended again, promising tender torment without end.
Nick
The dream-realm shimmered like starlight poured across glass, every surface glowing with a soft, otherworldly light. It was your dream, you knew it, felt it, and yet it wasn't entirely yours. Nick had slipped inside, bending it, shaping it, chasing you through its radiance as though it belonged to him.
You ran barefoot, laughter tumbling out of you like bells, your heart hammering in both thrill and fear. Behind you, his voice unfurled; low, velvet-smooth, teasing with dark promise.
"I'll give you to the count of ten..."
You risked a glance back and nearly stumbled. He was the most gorgeous thing the dream had ever conjured; tall and lean, every muscle sculpted with a predators grace. Jet black hair slicked back in a rakish wave. Skin pale as moonlight, and eyes; those piercing blue eyes that glowed almost white in the dreams strange light. He looked like hunger itself dressed in beauty.
"One...two...three..." His lips curved into a smile that made your stomach twist.
You giggled breathlessly, forcing yourself to run faster, though your body already knew it was hopeless.
"Four...five..."
But he didn't finish. The numbers died on his tongue as he launched forward. The world tilted as Nick blurred into motion, impossibly fast. A squeal left your throat as his arms locked around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground. He spun you in a dizzy whirl of laughter and light, your feet kicking uselessly in mid-air. Then his fingers plunged into your ribs; merciless, clever, relentless.
"Nick! Oh god's! Please, stop, please!" You squealed, thrashing in his hold, laughter bursting out of you uncontrollably.
His mouth brushed your ear, his chuckle low and rich. "Do you really think I'd wait until ten, little star?"
He lowered you to the glowing ground only to pin you instantly, wrists caught above your head in his iron grip. His weight pressed you into the dream itself, his body a pale silhouette of strength and beauty. He dropped his head and began kissing along your throat; light, tickly kisses that made you gasp, giggle, and writhe.
"Ahhh! Nick, please dont! It tickles, please!"
He only smiled against your skin, trailing down to your collarbone, leaving a constellation of tickly kisses in his wake. Then lips turned sharper; playful nips at your ribs that sent you thrashing.
His grin deepened, eyes glinting wickedly as though your begging were the sweetest music he'd ever heard. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed his nose against the hem of your blouse, nudging it higher until your belly lay bare beneath the dreamlight. His stubble scraped over the soft skin, teasing, unendurable.
"Tell me just how unbearable this is for you." He whispered against your trembling stomach.
"It's too much! I can't! Please...stop!"
His voice vibrated against your skin, warm and merciless. "Not a chance, love."
He gave into his desires as his mouth claimed your belly; ticklish bites, flicks of tongue, teasing kisses scattered like fire. You shrieked with laughter, every plea tangled with your giggles.
But he only laughed, low and delighted, his blue eyes alight with mischief. Each desperate cry only fueled him, every thrash of your body only made him hold you tighter. He had you caught in your own dream, pinned beneath the most devastating tormentor imaginable, begging for mercy, that he had no intention of giving.
Nicks mouth was still at your belly when it happened; you thrashed too hard, too suddenly, and your knee struck him squarely in the groin.
He grunted and rolled off, his body curling instinctively, one hand pressing low as his shoulders shook with a pained laugh. For the first time, you weren't the one breathless, he was.
Your hands flew to your mouth. "Oh gods, Nick! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried, scrambling back on your elbows, guilt and laughter laced your voice.
He lifted his head slowly, black hair falling into his eyes, and those piercing blue eyes softened now with amusement rather than fire. His lips curved, not into a predators grin, but into something sweeter.
"Run," he said at last, his voice a husky murmur that still carried amused laughter. Then, softer, almost coaxing, "Run and hide, little star. I'll even pretend I didn't see which way you went."
And then he winked; sweet, playful, almost boyish. "But fair warning...when I do catch you, I'll have to tickle you twice as much. You know. For my poor, wounded pride."
You ran, the soft ground glimmering beneath every step. And then you stumbled upon it. A hollow tucked into the side of a crumbling wall, barely wide enough to slip through. You dropped to your knees, scrambling inside, your breath quick and uneven, pressing your back to the cool, luminous stone. For a moment, there was only silence. The thrill of hiding. The dangerous hope that you'd fooled him.
Then...movement.
A shadow falls across the narrow entrance. Nicks voice purrs through the opening, soft and amused. "Little star...I can feel you in here."
You froze, your breath caught in your throat as Nick lowered himself to the ground. His broad shoulders filled the opening, blocking the only way out. He moved slowly, deliberately, crawling inside after you, his lean frame folding like a panther pressing through a narrow gap. With each press forward, the space narrowed until there was nothing but him; his scent, his warmth, his overwhelming presence. You pressed against the wall, but there was no further to go.
"Found you," he whispered, soft and playful, his grin both sweet and dangerous.
"Nick...please...wait..."
He shushed you with a mockingly gentle sound. "Shhh, little star. You know you can't hide from me. You can't hide any part of you from me." His voice curled low and sweet, almost Jacob-like in its warmth, but laced with Merrits dark promise.
He lifted one elegant hand, and the dream obeyed. Starlight bled from the cracks in the wall, threads of it swirling like ribbons of smoke. They coiled around your wrists, before drawing them upward, pinning them high against the stone, holding you spread and helpless.
Your gasp broke into a nervous giggle. "No, no! Wait...don't..."
"Don't what?" He whispered, leaning close, his breath brushing your cheek. "Don't make you laugh until you cant breathe? Don't make you tremble? I know you want this. I know it turns you on." His grin curved, slow and seductive. "That's exactly what I want."
His fingers began at both wrists, trailing down the curve of your arms, a whisper of a touch, before hovering at your underarms. His fingers were so close, you could feel the phantom tingles. Then, with devastating patience, he traced the hollows there; light, circling touches that made giggles burst from you instantly. He stroked with one fingertip, then all ten, sometimes slow, sometimes sudden, until you were laughing helplessly.
He pressed a kiss to your temple as though in comfort, but his fingers only teased faster. "Mmm. I love the way your laughter shakes through you. It's beautiful...you've no idea how hard it makes me."
The words sent fire rushing through you, laughter spilling out even as heat coiled low in your belly. Every cruel, slow stroke made your body jolt and ache with need.
He slid lower, fingers spreading around your ribs possessively, pressing between each tender space. He kneaded and fluttered with unhurried precision, wringing shrieks from your lungs. You arched violently, begging incoherently, while Nick watched with hunger in his eyes.
"Mmhm, beg pretty for me," he murmured, dragging his tongue along the edge of your jaw. "Tell me how badly you want me to stop...and how much you love that I wont."
Your pleas broke into ragged giggles, your body hot and trembling as though every nerve were alight.
His mouth trailed lower, he nosed beneath your blouse as he'd done earlier, baring your belly to the glow, his stubble rasping across the tender skin, followed by warm lips that pressed those infuriatingly soft, tickly kisses.
"Nick please! Not my stomach, I'll lose my mind!"
"Good," he whispered, his voice a growl against your skin. "I want you to lose it." He lingered there, devouring you with his lips and teeth, until your laughter cracked into broken moans, the line between torment and desire blurring.
Your thighs clenched, your body arching, every nerve alive with unbearable need. The dreams bonds held you open and helpless for him, your arousal rising with each sensual kiss.
Then he opened his mouth wider, letting his teeth graze teasingly across the soft curves of your belly, nipping just enough to make you squeal and jerk beneath him. When he reached your navel, he lingered there with wicked patience, dragging the flat of his tongue around the rim in lazy circles, dipping inside to flick and swirl until your laughter rose into shrieks. He alternated between sucking lightly at the sensitive hollow and biting playfully at the skin around it, the combination unbearably ticklish and devastatingly intimate. Heat pooled low in your core, leaving you shaking on the edge, unable to escape the worship of his mouth.
Nick chuckled, low and wicked, as though reading the heat in your body. "Oh, I feel how wet you're getting," he teased, dragging his hands slowly down your trembling side. "Laughing and begging...it turns you on, little star, doesn't it? You love when I undo you like this."
When he withdrew from your stomach, you cried out in protest. He only smiled; that devastatingly sweet, beautiful, knowing smile. But then he captured your ankle, sliding your foot into his lap. He smirked then, eyes gleaming.
He read the panic in your eyes.
Reveled in it.
He stroked your sole in measured, sensual patterns, each one slower than the last. You howled, pleaded with him, but beneath it all, your body throbbed with arousal. He traced each toe, worshipful and cruel, before lifting your foot to his lips. He ran his cheek across your instep, his stubble doing its wicked job as he kissed you there, his tongue sliding along the underside of your toes.
The sound that broke from you was half laughter, half moan.
Nicks grin was triumphant, his eyes drinking you in. "Perfect," he murmured. "You can laugh, you can beg, you can scream, but you'll stay bound in this dream, aching for me, until I decide youve had enough."
Bound in dreamlight, body aching and aroused beyond reason, you could only laugh and beg as his mouth descended again, promising tender torment without end.
