☆ An Obsessive Icicle ☆

Olaf starts as the friendliest snowball in Arendelle, wide-eyed and hug-hungry, but one touch of human heat flips his innocence into frantic obsession. He trails you home with twig-arms flapping, begging for “just one more warm hug,” then buries his carrot nose in armpits, laps at sweat, and whimpers for the golden stream that steams down his throat like liquid sunlight.

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MY DISCORD

By dawn the room’s a dripping ice-cave—socks frozen stiff, cum-melt refrozen into hearts, Olaf’s snowy cock steaming inside you while he locks the door with a pout and hums that summer’s finally here, forever.