#also have to admit i am a bit tickled by the fact that he was like. i can have one mormon. as a treat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violettaskies · 2 years ago

Text

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: thank you for all the support on the first part! there is one more chapter after this one (three in total) // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible // honestly, you can just read this without reading the first ch lol but that would help with tiny details!

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader's parents are religious, light manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink, masturbation // please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter one // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

To say Eddie was ecstatic as he drove to your home, is an understatement. He had driven you there countless times after school or the rare late-night tutoring sessions, but he has never gone inside. There was never a reason to. Especially since you both were often only together during school hours and only meeting each other during weekends on the rare occasion you didn’t have a church obligation.

How he longed to enter the holy house he passed by every few nights to see if you were still awake late into the evening after he finished band rehearsal. Eddie wondered what it is that you did when the light was on, but your shadow was nowhere near the desk next to the bedroom window.

Little did he know, today was the day he would find out.

“You seem a little too excited to work on an English project, Eddie,” you said once you noticed that you weren’t the only one in the car who was jittering in their seat.

“Oh, I’m dreading the work, believe me,” he chuckled. “What I am excited for is the fact that I’m going into your sanctuary for the first time. Now I can find out your dirty little secrets.”

The raspiness in his both scared and excited you. “Hm?” You looked at him for the first time with wide eyes and a shaky voice.

“Does this mean we get to go into your room too?” Eddie teased.

“My room? N-no, we can’t go in there.” Inviting the muse of your sins into your home was one thing, going into your room would only make you feel God’s wrath ten-fold.

“Oooh, she is hiding something, isn’t she?” Eddie wound you up again, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other tried to tickle your leg — you backed away again.

You ignored his teasing, speaking to him in a barely audible whisper: “we’ll work in the basement where my father’s study is. He won’t be using it today since it’s Monday and it’s his day off.”

“Will you tell me what’s bothering you before we head in?” The Dealer said with a pout as he parked in your driveway. “Was it something a person did? Something I did?” If his perverted ways were caught, he wanted to find out now. “You promised you’d tell me, you never break your promises.”

The guilt was eating you up now. Lying, sinning, breaking commandments, and now you’re on the path to breaking promises. If you were alone right now, you would cry; instead, one tear escaped your eyes.

“I promise, it’s nothing,” the lie came easily this time. “Let’s head inside, please, Eddie.”

“Alright,” he didn’t want to admit just how beautiful you looked while you cried.

Once Eddie had opened the passenger for you and let you lead the way into the house, both of your hearts were beating quickly. It became clear that the two of you were nervous about one thing or another – but, there was one consistent anxious thought: your parents were home.

As you attempted to unlock the front door with shaky hands, the keys rattling a bit louder than what a normal person would be doing, Eddie whispered in your ear.

“I’ll be on my best behaviour, no need to worry,” his voice was husky, resonating through your body with every syllable, and his hot breath on your skin since he pushed your hair to the side without you noticing. It was hard to recognize things with everything going on in your head; so much so, that you didn’t get the opportunity to twist the lock correctly as you turned your head quickly to face him.

Just then, the door opened, key still in the hole and your hand on the handle — leading you to trip slightly at the door frame. “Darling, you’re home early,” your mother’s sweet, but very confused, voice greeted you at the entrance.

“Sorry I called earlier saying I would be home late, but then the library was full so we couldn’t work there,” you said meekly whilst taking a step away from Eddie to rid your figures of the compromising position you were just in.

“Come inside, and tell me who your friend is,” the sheer nervousness in her voice was comedic. Your mother knew exactly who this was. Why you allowed him into this Catholic home, she’ll never understand.

“W-well this is Eddie, he’s the one whose locker is right next to mine,” you stated, looking over at the boy who was nervous in front of you for the first time in your friendship. He must have felt you glance over at him, since Eddie tilted his head up to mouth: ‘you talk about me?’ before winking in your direction. The smiles that appeared on both of your nervous faces went away quickly.

A loud cough shocked you, making you two break eye contact, and jump slightly at the sound as you were taking your shoes off. “Munson?”

“Yes, sir.” There were times Eddie hated his last name when older people used it — since they would automatically think of his father.

“What are you doing in my house?” The anger in your own father’s voice was frightening. Yes, he told you to stay away from Eddie. But Eddie was always nice to you, always sweet and caring; never did you see him commit sins in front of you, so you thought.

“We were assigned on a project together,” you cut off your own conflicted thoughts. “It’s due Wednesday. However, tomorrow we’re both busy so we wanted to finish it tonight,” the leg-bouncing came back again. “May we please use the basement, dad? You have lots of books in there we could—"

“No,” there was a fire in your father’s eyes that intensified your freight as he began a staredown with your project partner. The man was mad — the first time his daughter brought a friend home and it’s a boy, Eddie Munson for that matter. The boy was known around town for committing the sinful acts of the Devil. Now you’re asking to spend the entire night with him, alone in a dark room? Over his dead body.

Your mother came to the rescue to ease the tension, “of course you can, I’ll even bring down snacks, and dinner too, since we were planning on ordering take-out tonight anyways.” She looked over at your father with threatening eyes, trying to make him notice that his daughter was on the verge of tears in front of a guest.

“That’s alright, I can take care of—”

“Oh, she’ll be taking care of me alright,” Eddie said in your father’s direction with a sinister smirk, then looked to your mother sweetly. “But, I don’t mean to intrude. I can grab dinner on my way home.”

“Nonsense, you two head downstairs and I’ll bring some water and the strawberries that were new at the store today.”

Eddie couldn’t help but notice the sweet similarities between you and your mother. On the other hand, he really loved pissing off your dad — if all the old man could see was the spawn of Satan, then Eddie was going to give it to him.

“Thank you, ma’am. Now, why don’t you lead the way, Angel?” he said while casually placing a hand on your shoulder, then leading a trail to your neck to loop his fingers through your silver chain. Eddie made sure that he glanced in your father’s direction, when you slightly whimpered at the tug and looked up at the long-haired man.

“S-sure, it’s this way. See you guys later then,” you were a stuttering mess, trying to speak to your parents while guiding Eddie through your house.

The only thing you hoped was that once you were alone with Eddie again, your mind would focus on the work; not the intensifying feeling of guilt which made your heart and legs ache.

-:-:-:-:-

Once the backpacks were on the floor next to the sofa, the contents of your pencil case spread out on the large table your father had in the basement, and a lined sheet of paper with a brainstorm of scratches all over it — the project was well on its way to be completed. At first, since Eddie barely cracked the book open, you two needed to read the assigned chapter. He mentioned that he wouldn’t be able to focus unless you took turns reading it aloud, so that’s what you did. At one point, your mother came down and set some fruit on the coffee table, where you would take a bite of a strawberry whenever you were not reading a page — Eddie did the same thing.

In truth, he was barely listening to the story, only staring at how your lips became more plump and pink as each paragraph was read. The Dealer hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he inches closer to you on the couch slowly. So that by the time the final page was finished, your knees were touching.

“Such a pretty voice,” Eddie teased when you stopped reading, nearly whispering it in your ear. Now you started to tense up again.

“Yours is nicer, I guess it’s because of all your Dungeons & Dragons games,” you awkwardly giggle whilst moving to the left.

“Maybe you should play one day, but I don’t think you want more of the Devil inside of you,” he chuckled to himself, not realizing how the words made your heart drop.

“W-what do you mean by that?” your eyes went wide with guilt as you responded.

“Oh, you know,” Eddie elongated the final syllable momentarily. “I can tell you’re keeping secrets from me. You said it was nothing someone else or I did that’s bothering you. That must mean it’s something you did, huh?”

His curiousity was always something you enjoyed, it led to your imagination to grow in return. But now, this tendency of his was only making you more nervous if he found out what you did.

You wouldn’t be his good girl anymore.

“We should work on the project now,” you said sternly, ignoring his question.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He flashed his signature smile and wink, then stretched his body from the couch. Then with a tap to your shoulder, you followed him to the large table.

After three hours, the report itself was done. Mainly you did the majority of the analysis while you asked Eddie what he thought about your points. Luckily, his creativity ran wild so you could just build on what he would say to make his profound words sound professional. Then, as you two were grabbing construction paper and poster board from your mother’s craft stash in the basement, she came down to give you both a simple take-out container of Chinese food.

Truly, she had been checking up on you two every half-hour. Even going as far as taking you to the side to whisper: “don’t do anything unjust or sinful with that boy. He has a reputation and your father is just beside himself with fear as to what the Munson-child will do to you.” Although she had been the polite host to Eddie, she was always the Catholic housewife who cared more about people’s virtue than anything else.

Not that your mother had anything to worry about tonight. Thus far, you were so focused on the task at hand that you barely had any unsavoury thoughts about your friend. Like how when Eddie would put his chin on your shoulder as you wrote down what he would say in your ear, making sure that he rubbed your back as he was doing so. You didn’t recognize that whenever you responded to him with a ‘yeah,’ it came out in a whimper sometimes. Even when The Dealer had gone on a tangent explaining something, and he flailed his arms in the air, only to land them on the table — leaning forward and stared intensely into your eyes; you barely noticed how your thighs squeezed together at the tingling feeling between.

But Eddie noticed, he noticed everything and was loving it. He knew that the project would take your mind off of what was bothering you, so he went back to his regularly scheduled programming. This time though, instead of your sweet smiles and giggles to his antics — you were biting your lip, crossing your legs tightly, and blushing while you laughed. As you two ate dinner at the coffee table while sitting on the floor, Eddie couldn’t help but glance down at the skin of your thighs peaking through the bottom of your skirt; especially how you didn’t fix it like you usually do. Something really was going on with you today.

“Do you wanna play some music while we work on the presentation part? What type of music does your dad have in here anyways?” Eddie asked while eyeing you suspiciously and eating an egg roll. He was going to try and make you talk about something other than school for the first time in four hours.

“A lot of gospel music.”

“Seriously?” He looked at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile of disbelief.

“Yes, he likes listening to that type of stuff, I do too,” you said defensively.

The man walks up to your father’s record player and the shelf of records that are lined up behind it. You were right. “Not even The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? Your old man probably has something.”

“I’ve never heard him listen to that before. Your uncle has them though, right? We listened to them when I tutored you last year. Those songs were really nice to listen to.” You stood next to him and as he graced his fingers on the spines of the cardboard cases.

“That’s right, my smart girl.” Eddie groaned and chose one of the records that mentioned it was only instrumentals. It would be better than nothing, so he gave it to you to start playing. “We should put this on, because I’m sure that any of this Christian music will make me burn up,” he emphasized his words by pretending to be burned with holy water, like in the movies. “I’m a sinner, baby,” he chokes out.

He was just joking around, you knew that. But you stood there with the record in your hand, frozen in place for a moment, before quietly saying: “I think we should finish up this presentation, Eddie.” Then passed the vinyl back to him to input in the record player. You quickly walked to the large table with your silver crucifix between your fingers, while Eddie stood with gears turning in his head.

That was it.

Just from mentioning the word ‘sin’ and you were shaking with a fear he has never seen from you since that one time Eddie showed you his tattoo of a demon. Only this time, your fear looked like it traumatized you.

What could have happened to make you feel this way? Did you sin and your Catholic guilt was eating you up? — the questions plagued his mind as he went over to your fidgeting figure sitting at the work table again.

-:-:-:-:-

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Eddie and yourself were almost done with the presentation. Whichever teacher in the staff room thought that this project could be done in two days was probably delusional. It took you two almost nine hours to do the bare minimum. Alas, as you and Eddie stood at the table, adding paint and construction paper to the biggest piece of poster board your mom hoarded, it was close to the finish line. While there were instances where your guilt would reappear more often now than before dinner — your mind was still focused on the project.

That was until your father’s voice echoed through the basement’s halls for the first time tonight. He stood at the stairs, still being able to see you and Eddie nearly climbing the table to finish the poster. Still, there was fire in his eyes.

“Are you two almost finished, yet? It’s pretty late and you both have school in the morning,” he said sternly, but only staring down the young Munson.

“Almost, dad, we just need to wait for this to dry up and practice the presentation with it,” your voice was quiet as your eyes went from your father’s crossed arms to Eddie’s sinister smile.

“When will you be going home, Munson?”

“Oh I don't know, whenever she finishes,” he knew that your father understood the innuendo; however, you stood there tilting your head in confusion.

Your father scoffs loudly before giving Eddie one last threatening look, then turns to you. “Wrap it up whenever you can. I’m heading to bed, but your mother will be upstairs, so no dilly dallying.” You’re pretty sure that comment was meant for the boy standing with horrible posture next to you, but it still registered as a threat in your head.

“Goodnight, dad,” you nodded, looking up at him with big eyes as he began to walk up the stairs. But, a slightly taunting voice made your father stop in his tracks.

“Sweet dreams, we’ll be having lots of fun down here,” Eddie said with his smile getting wider with each word. You thought he was just trying to make your father laugh a bit before leaving — with a sarcastic tone towards the school project. But it looks like the scoff your father made, indicated that it didn’t go through; in actuality, your father could see the new innuendo the young man was doing, but decided not to be the overbearing father for once.

As his steps became fainter, you looked towards Eddie who was now putting a cigarette in his mouth, “what did you mean? When you said, ‘whenever she finishes.’?” you asked. He tried his best not to let his lips curl upwards at his joy of seeing you so innocent to the sexual joke.

“U-uhh nothing.”

“Good, because. I’m not doing all this work all on my own, we’ve been doing this as partners this whole time. Let’s finish together.” The amount of times he has imagined your voice saying those last three words in his ears was unfathomable — he would memorize this snippet for the rest of his life. Eddie was so enthralled by your words that he didn’t notice that you took the cigarette out of his mouth and was speaking to him again. “You can’t smoke that in here.”

“Your old man smokes.”

“That’s different, he only smokes cigars and they smell nicer.”

“Tell me where they are and I’ll have my first one tonight,” he winked at you with a smile.

In an instant, he took the stick back from your fingers and placed it between his lips again. “Eddie, I don’t want you getting in trouble,” you sighed in defeat. “Do you promise to finish the title on the poster while I write up the script on cards, if I let you finish that one cigarette?”

“You could always share it with me so I can finish it faster,” he teased. “Or do you not want to give in to the Devil’s temptation again?”

“A-again?” you stuttered.

Eddie stayed silent for a moment, lighting his cigarette then picked up the letter cut outs to start applying glue on them. “You feel guilty for something, don’t you? Did you sin, sweet girl? You’ve been dodging the topic all day and the only time I was able to read the thoughts behind your eyes was when I brought up the word ‘sin,’ you’re even shaking now just like you did a couple hours ago.”

He was speaking so nonchalantly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from Eddie’s fingers as they move quickly on the paper, then up to his lips to hold the stick between them. Guilt was eating you up quickly now. No matter how long it subsided, it always came back. Now, even more so since the muse of your sins is starting to figure you out. But then, you remembered: “f-fine, I mentioned that I would tell you after we finished, so m-maybe I’ll be ready t-to tell you then.”

“Looks like you better finish up those cards fast, because I’m ready to hear it all, baby.”

This was it.

The beginning of your end.

As you let Eddie use the table, you moved over to the couch, wanting to be far away from him for a little while. Trying to calm your nerves, think of the words to say, whether you would tell him the truth or not, theorizing what he would think of you if you did decide to confess: they were all reasons to stay apart. Especially so The Dealer didn’t see your shaky hands finish up the cue cards.

Eddie is going to hate me — the words repeated in your head every few moments. You were his sweet girl, the one who read the Bible as often as he read the Lord of the Rings books, the one who needed him to explain dirty jokes to you that people said around school. You weren’t supposed to unknowingly sin for weeks on end with his voice being the imaginary guide to help you find the most relief. After hearing condemnation from your friend at Bible study and your beloved priest right afterwards, you weren’t so sure how your heart would take seeing Eddie’s disgust with you. At this rate, the cue cards were going to be ineligible when you two needed to glance down at them on Wednesday.

Even from a few feet away, Eddie swears he could hear the gears turning in your head, alongside the continuous pattern of leg shaking. He felt bad, truly. You were always one to be so kind to everyone, so giving and polite. That no matter how much he wanted to know the dirty little secret that was causing you so much pain, what he really wanted to do was just take it all away. Eddie hoped that if you did decide to tell him the truth, that you would feel better afterwards. But, you wouldn’t be able to tell him anything clearly if you were full of anxiety. So he lit another cigarette, making sure you were still busy writing on cue cards with furrowed brows, and walked towards your father’s record player. The selection was absurd, but the soft instrumentals might help soothe your soul.

In a way, The Dealer regrets teasing you so much about it. You were fine when you were distracted by the project, but now that it was almost over and you were amping yourself up to confess something – you looked like you were about to cry like you did this morning. It was both cute and caused a strain in his heart. Eddie thought back to seeing you first thing this morning and how much has happened to lead up to this point, as he sets a new record to play then jumps on the couch next to you.

“Almost done, princess?”

“Y-yeah, this is the last card. But it’s messy since my hand hurts and I’m sleepy,” you try to lie a bit to see if he would mention you should sleep instead of having a basement confessional.

The lying was coming to you easily, you really were trying to hide something from him, Eddie thought. “Well then, I would call this an extremely successful night. We’re gonna ace this.”

“Hopefully, weren’t you failing this class because of the last test?”

“Yes, but now because of you, my little Angel, I’m gonna get my grades up,” he winked at you as he continued inhaling cigarette smoke and exhaling it behind him.

“Please don’t call me that,” you said, putting down the cue cards on the table and then squeezing the fabric of your skirt out of sheer nervousness.

The way your heart was beating out of your chest was hurting you. It felt the same way yesterday when you walked to the confessional at church — and that didn’t turn out so well. So why would it be any different if you tell someone else your sins?

“You’ve been hot and cold all day. If it’s a serious problem and you don't want to tell me about it then maybe you should tell your parents.”

You were so entranced by your own beating heart that you didn’t notice that Eddie put out his cigarette and sat right next to you in the middle of the couch, while you were leaning slightly on the left arm.

“I couldn’t possibly tell them, Eddie. I’m already too scared to tell you,” you gasped with tears welling up in your eyes.

He cautiously reached an arm around you, unsure if you would accept it or not — now that you weren’t distracted by the project, Eddie feared the aching feeling that occurred whenever you pulled away from him throughout the day. This time though, you welcomed it as he started to stroke your skin with this thumb. “It’s probably not as bad as you think it is. Hell, I’ve probably done a lot worse in the past three days,” Eddie chuckled in your ear.

“Do you like sinning, Eddie?” It’s now or never, you decided to blurt out part of the thoughts lingering in your head.

“What?”

“The things you do, the things you’re known for. My parents say it’s a form of sinning. But that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

You said your words nearly into his chest, as you went to face him but didn’t have the courage to look him in the eye. Eddie thought it was endearing, “do you think I’m a bad person?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know your answer though.

“No,” you exclaimed. “Not at all. It’s just—

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to—” he tried to cut you off, but your quiet voice took over the room.

“If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?” You finally said aloud the questions that were haunting you. “Why are you still the nicest person I know, when everyone else says that you could be a bad influence on me?” you looked up at Eddie now, shivering at how close he was to your face.

“On Sunday, I saw you walk out of the church,” things were starting to click.

“I went to confession that day and —”

You sobbed, not being able to contain the conflicting emotions you were feeling. The guilt of your sins, and how you wanted nothing more than to do it again.

You’re going to Hell. This confessional is just going to seal it.

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to. But it may make you feel better.” On the other hand, Eddie wants nothing more than to know your sins, and figure out why you wanted to keep it a secret from him.

Judging by the way you’re continuously clenching your thighs together, he has an idea what it could be.

“I shouldn’t,” you say nervously. Just then, Eddie unwraps his arm around you and you whimper at the lost comforting feeling. He kneels in front of you instead. His touch never left you though: placing a trail from your shoulder, to your back, then down your right arm to ultimately grasp your hands. As he held both your hands in one of his, the other stroked your thigh lightly before joining all four of your hands together.

You didn’t want to admit that it felt really good.

“Trust me, anything you did that’s making you feel guilty, everyone else has probably done a million times worse,” Eddie said with a grin.

“Promise not to tell?”

“Promise,” he tried to soothe your shaking legs by pressing his arm down on your thighs momentarily.

“A-and you won’t judge me?” You try to confirm it.

“Never.”

You quiet your sobs for a moment, not even breathing, in order to hear if your mother had started getting ready for bed. She has, since the television in the living room was turned off and there were no sounds of footsteps in the kitchen. So you look at Eddie again, tears still escaping your eyes.

Although he loves the vision of you shedding tears in his arms, he wipes some away with his sleeve. Then places his hand back down to your left thigh, stroking it slowly to try and calm you down. It works, but at the exact same time, it doesn’t. The town nominated the man in front of you as a pawn to Satan — and to you, he was just as bad as the snake in the garden of Eden. He’s the reason why you’re in this predicament. It’s his hands, lips, and tongue that you picture every night as you sin without guilt. Well, until this weekend.

“Sometimes when I go to bed, it’s hard for me to fall asleep because there’s something bothering me. Like my body doesn’t want to sleep until I t-take care of it.” You try your best to not stutter as you whisper the genesis of your guilt. Eddie knows exactly where the words are leading to. It takes every ounce of strength in his body not to push you too hard for his perverted agenda.

“What bothers you?” He asks while stroking your clenched hands with his left hand’s thumb. While the fingers on his right are circling your thigh in tiny patterns, inching closer to the hem of your skirt, but never going past it.

“Everything,” you croak out. “Like I needed a massage on every inch of my skin.”

Eddie chooses his next words carefully, trying to get you to say what he wants to hear: the confession. “If massaging your back and neck makes you feel this guilty, I could always do it for you,” he smiles with a small chuckle, causing you to follow.

“That’s not –”

“Then tell me,” he said through a smile.

You clench your legs together out of nervousness. Only to notice that Eddie had placed his fingers atop the middle of your thighs, right where they met. Your thighs had accidentally squished the calloused digits – nearly causing you to want to whimper, but you spoke instead.

“U-uhm, well,” you paused, “at night when I can’t sleep, there’s no need to massage my neck because that’s not the place that’s bothering me the most. It’s m-my–” Eddie’s eyes widen to urge you to continue.

“Remember, I promised not to judge you,” he says while stroking the skin of your hands in his. But you let your left hand leave the warmth, and moved it slowly to the silver crucifix at your neck. After a moment you made a trail down to the side of your hip — too afraid to point at the other spot that ached more.

“Here, right here.” The way you bite your lip makes you think it’s about to draw blood. “I feel like I need to move my hips back and forth. S-so I do.”

Eddie smiles, he’s getting there. It will only take a few more seconds until he hears the full confession, he can feel it. “That’s it, sweetheart? That’s not so bad, I’ve heard and done worse, trust me,” The Dealer says, trying to emit a competitive spirit within you to see if that will push you over the edge.

“No, the part that makes it a sin were my thoughts and what I did to them. You see, I–”

“There we go,” Eddie begins to massage between your clenched legs to try and pry them open so he could start stroking upon your inner thighs. Your body lets him before your mind has the opportunity to tell you otherwise. Your thighs are only an inch apart, but it’s enough room for Eddie to tease the sensitive skin.

“I get a pillow and put it between my legs. At first, I thought that maybe my muscles were stiff so that’s why I did it, honest,” you quietly exclaim to prove your innocent initial thoughts.

“Don’t worry, babygirl,” he lifts the hand that’s holding yours and kisses your knuckles sweetly. The action makes you whimper. “Pillows are soft, they’re nice. I don’t see any sinning yet though,” he says deeply as a response to your story and both of your bodies tonight.

“Then, I started to move my hips slowly because the rest of my body felt stiff. So I did, and it felt really n-nice,” you continue your story while barely looking him in the eye, but still following the movements of his hand on your thigh. “I kept going and going until I rolled over onto my stomach to get the ache from my muscles to go away from another angle.”

Eddie knew exactly what you were doing, and he prayed for the first time in a while to keep his hardness hidden from your beautifully tear-filled eyes. “Now that, my darling, is dirty. Tell me more.” If he wasn’t able to do anything with you tonight then at least he was going to memorize this story to replay in his imagination later.

“The Devil took over me, the priest said the other day. He didn’t hear anything from me after what I just told you. But he was right, Eddie. My body moved on its own. There was this throbbing feeling that kept getting stronger.”

“Where was it doing that?” He asked with feign-innocence in his voice. He knew what you were going to say next, so Eddie lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could make their way closer to your core.

“You’re close to it now,” you can’t even say it out loud, so you squeeze his left hand out of nervousness – hoping that what you said is enough to satiate his curiosity.

Eddie chuckles a bit at your innocence. “Oh, right here,” he places his right hand over your skirt now, laying it above your mound so you could get the picture. You nod hesitantly before he continues. “Did the throbbing feel good though?” he teases you with the question, and you nod again. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, Eddie, it felt so good. At one point it was so strong, then it would go away.” There was a sense of sadness in your eyes as you pouted. “But, then I would do it again until I was sleepy.”

His hand that’s holding yours, lets go for the first time so that he can hold your face with both hands.

Damn the Church for making you feel that way about your pleasure. If he had the chance, he would show you every single way the human body could reach its climax. That would be a real miracle that would make him believe in God.

“So this is what has put you in such a mood for two days, huh? The words your priest has told you stuck in your head.” He wipes away the abundance of tears from your face so that you stop involuntarily swallowing the remnants of your emotions.

“Well, it started Saturday, after Bible study. I was talking to my friend about it to see if she knew what I was talking about. She gasped so loud and told me it was sinning because of how I did it to myself and didn’t stop.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he tried to ease your tension.

“But, Eddie,” you exclaimed a little too loudly. He even placed a finger on your lips to hush your tone— scared that you would wake your father up. “She is right. I did that every single day for weeks and weeks. With different things too. Like my stuffed panda, different pillows on my bed, and that towel you let me keep –”

You’re not completely sure why you were confessing more to Eddie than you did to your own priest. Let alone confess one part about him. But it felt nice to get everything off your chest tonight.

“Look at me, making my cameo in your dirty fantasy,” he giggles before placing a kiss to the side of your mouth. It made you blush to feel his soft lips on your skin, you craved more. “What I’m understanding is that you haven’t been able to do this activity for three days now?” you nodded at the question, too scared to respond vocally because you might let some more slip.

Eddie took a moment to think about what to say next. This was more difficult than writing a song or doing a math test. Plus, if the strain on his jeans was any indication of how badly he yearned to help you, then the dam was about to burst.

Every single day for weeks and weeks, the words repeated in his head.

That means every time he has sat next to you in fourth period, every time you talked to him at his locker, or whenever you sat with his club at lunch — Eddie was talking to an innocent Angel who masturbates and brings herself to multiple orgasms every night without even realizing it. If the man had known, he would’ve invited himself over earlier so he could assist you in your beautiful fantasy. Maybe so that you didn’t need to use his towel to get yourself off, but him instead.

He continued, “why don’t I help you? That would make it better, won’t it?”

“B-but, that means you’re sinning too,” you squeak out quietly. Not sure if the tears still running down your face are from relief, guilt, or both.

“I already always do,” he says with a smile. The Dealer keeps one hand on your face while the other places a trail of featherlight touches from your neck to the tops of your thighs. Once it’s there, he massages circles, causing you to rub them together unintentionally. “And you said it was a sin because you did it to yourself. What if I helped you and did all the work? That’s a loophole since this pretty little pussy you have won’t need to do anything.”

Hearing the word out loud made you shiver. Eddie had said it in a way that made you throb in the same way you did all those nights prior. “When you put it that way –”

“We don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Seriously, this can stop any time whenever you hear the Angel on your shoulder scream at you.”

“I have something else to confess, Eddie.” One of your hands met up with his at your thigh, stroking the veins on his hands that you imagined so often. “You’re my Devil: the only thing that crosses my mind when I sin, tempting me to do so much more,” the words spill out of your mouth quickly, since you feel comfortable enough with this confessional with him — he deserves to know what you’re thinking of.

“Oh my God,” Eddie groans, squeezing your thigh and rutting against the couch so he could relieve some tension of his hardening member. He really thought he was going to be doing all the seduction tonight, but he was oh so wrong.

“Why do my sins make me feel so good, if they’re so bad?” you pause at the question you've asked about for the second time tonight . “If I’m damned like they say I am, then that means I’m going to Hell,” the quiet voice that emits from your throat is full of guilt and nervousness.

“Then let's be damned and burn in Hell together, baby. You’re gonna love it,” Eddie says.

Your Devil, your vessel of temptation, the one person who made you cross the line from being pure to the second-biggest sinner you know — leans forward to capture your lips with his, and oh how you loved it.

-:-:-:-:-

taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie

406 notes · View notes

lifesizehysteria · 5 months ago

Text

A Mother's Blessings | A Bridgerton Fic

Part 1: Benedict and Colin

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Marcus Anderson, Colin Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton Summary: A collection of moments through Violet and Marcus' courtship in which Violet seeks the blessings of her children.

Also on Ao3

“Violet,” Marcus offered her his hand, wearing the very same smile that had made her feel as though she might drift away every time since the first evening they met. They stood in the entrance hall. She had chosen to walk him to the door after he had come for tea with her family, taking the opportunity for a few moments alone with him. “As always, your family is a delight. Thank you so much for having me.”

“It is my pleasure. I do hope you will call again soon.” She slipped her fingers into his hand, feeling her heart thumping in her chest as he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the tops of her fingers.

“I cannot promise to wait even a day,” he said, releasing her hand, though she did note the way he stroked his thumb across her fingers before letting go. She did not bother to hold back her smile, nor the laugh tickling her throat.

“I promise not to turn you away.”

“You cannot imagine my relief.” Humor glimmered in his dark eyes, his smile both teasing and radiant. Violet bit her lip. “Goodbye, Violet.”

“Goodbye.”

Tipping his hat, he turned and swept out the door.

Violet made her way back to the drawing room, unable to stifle the smile that shone as brightly from her eyes as it did from her lips. Her right hand, still tingling, was pressed between her belly and her other hand; a secret treasure for her to keep. Turning the corner to the drawing room that was now occupied only by Colin and Benedict, Violet floated into the room.

“Mother,” Colin said, observing his mother’s blissful demeanor and making quick eye contact with Benedict, “how many times has Lord Anderson called on you this week?”

“At least three,” Benedict supplied, a grin already tipping across his lips.

Colin’s eyes widened, feigning shock. “Three?”

“It is quite proper,” Violet said. Ignoring the mischief glimmering in her son’s eyes as she settled onto the settee, she picked her embroidery up from the side table and began rethreading the needle.

“Perhaps, but it is all quite fast, is it not?”

“Should you be the one to speak about the speed at which another’s relationship moves?” She peered at him over the edge of her hoop, her eyebrows lifting slightly. Colin’s mouth dropped open, stumbling at his mother’s suggestion. Benedict snickered. “Speaking of,” Violet continued, “where is Penelope?”

Colin cleared his throat to recover his voice. “At Featherington house, having tea before we depart in the morning.”

Violet nodded her head, pulling her thread through the fabric at an easy pace. “With Francesca and Eloise gone, you leaving for your honeymoon, and Anthony and Kate off to India shortly after, it’s going to be rather quiet.”

Colin came to sit on the other side of Benedict’s settee, opposite their mother. “Do not worry, Mother. I am sure Lord Anderson will be around to keep you company.”

“Indeed!” Benedict agreed. “In fact, I believe she will be so busy being courted, she will not even notice your absence.”

“Hush,” she told them. “I am not being courted.”

“Are you not?” Benedict asked.

“No,” she insisted, though her cheeks turned pink. Deep down, she knew it was true, but she certainly wasn’t ready to admit it to herself, much less aloud to her children.

“Then it must be you who is doing the courting,” Colin teased. “Quite unconventional.”

“Brava!” Benedict laughed.

“Boys, that is enough foolishness!” Although Violet’s face was hot and her voice stern, she could not quite conceal the amusement playing at the corners of her mouth.

Colin sobered slightly, but Benedict made no such effort.

“In all seriousness,” he said, without an ounce of it himself, “perhaps I should have a conversation with Lord Anderson about his intentions with our mother.”

“Or perhaps,” Violet said, the admonishment now sharp in her voice, “you should first ask your mother about her intentions for herself.” Abandoning her embroidery, the hoop clattered when she dropped it onto the table. All signs of her amusement had disappeared.

The men shared a look of surprise before turning back to their mother, the air in the room shifting.

Colin cleared his throat, pressing his mouth into an apologetic line. “Of course, Mother. My apologies.”

Violet nodded her head in acceptance, softening slightly.

Sitting forward, resting his elbows against his knees, Benedict met his mother’s gaze. His face was open and curious, his eyes sincere. “What are you looking for in your… acquaintance with Lord Anderson?”

“Well, I…” Violet’s eyes darted between her sons, then dropped down to her hands clasped in her lap. “I am not sure.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I do enjoy his company.”

“Clearly,” Benedict muttered, smirking, only to sober like a guilty child when Violet threw him a warning look.

“Would you marry him, if he proposed?” Colin asked.

“I truly do not know. I am not sure that I am ready for such a step.” Violet sighed. “When your father died, I did not believe I would ever even look at another man, and I hadn’t, until now. Lately, however, as you children grow, needing me less and less, flying off to begin lives of your own, I have found myself quite… lonely.” Guilt needled its way into her gut, making her feel as though she must justify herself. For what, she was not sure. Moving on from their father? Admitting to loneliness despite a house full of people who loved her dearly? Having wants outside of her family after it being her sole priority for so many years? “And Marcus—Lord Anderson—is a good man. He is kind, and funny, and we have much in common that makes spending time together effortless. He—”

“Mama?” Colin cut her off, leaning across to take her hand. His head tilted to one side, just so, as it always did when he was inviting honesty. “Does he make you happy?”

She did not answer immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes and thought over all the time they had spent together since that first meeting where he retrieved her glove from the ground, when his smile had made her belly flutter for the first time. She turned her eyes back up to meet Colin’s. When she answered, her voice was shaky but sure. “He does, yes.”

“Then you have our blessing, in whatever choice you make,” Benedict said, and Colin nodded his head in agreement. “Not that you need it. It is your life, not ours.”

Violet gave an emotional little hiccup, blinking back tears that brimmed along her lower lashes. “And what of your brothers and sisters? What will they think?”

Colin squeezed her hand. “They, too, will be happy for you. I am sure of it.”

“Even Anthony?” She pressed her lips together, fighting the wobble of her chin as she alluded to what was truly her biggest fear—that her eldest would be unwilling to accept her romantic interest in anyone other than his father.

Benedict came to sit beside her, draping his arm around her back. “Yes, with time, even Anthony,” he assured her. “Because even he, under all the bluster and sense of duty, is your son. And he, like the rest of us, watched you put our happiness above all else, day after day after day. He will do the same for you, because that is who you taught him to be.”

Violet smiled at him, her eyes still watery. As silly and carefree as he seemed, his heart was pure and she knew he cared deeply for his family. It was clear that he meant every word. However, she did not share his confidence. She and Anthony shared a troubled history unique from that which she shared with her other children, even the other eldest two. Still, she wanted to believe him, for now at least, so she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder for a moment. As she did so, she squeezed Colin’s hand and wiped a few stray tears from her cheek, confident that no mother in the world had sons as wonderful as hers.

#bridgerton #violet bridgerton #marcus anderson #violet x marcus #bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #fanfiction #written by lifesizehysteria #blessings fic

33 notes · View notes

teamfortraven · 9 months ago

Text

Was originally going to post the lee and ler Vox headcanons simultaneously, but I don't wanna wait any longer since the lee ones are complete. I'll finish ler soon, just been busy.

Lee

You would catch this man dead before he ever admits that he’s ticklish, let alone enjoys it.

The primary way to discern if he’s in a lee mood or not is subtly sneaking the word into conversation and pretending nothing happened.

His reaction will say everything: on a normal day, he won’t bat an eye, but if you manage to catch him off guard, the reaction will be more than obvious if you’re paying attention. Jumping slightly, his screen and voice glitching for just a fraction of a second, and chuckling nervously… he’s putting all his resources towards keeping his cool, charismatic façade.

He’ll only become more and more restless the longer you tease him, waiting for you to strike, and, if it carries on long enough, wishing for it.

Desperation makes this man a spectacle. Maybe you’ll find him stretching around you way more often than usual, or he’ll call you into the observation room because he “accidentally” got his arms tangled in wires and now he’s stuck, and then yell through his flustered glitching when you ask why he doesn’t just use his electrokinesis to escape…

If you really want to get him going, brush an arm against his side as you pass by or elbow him in the ribs. He is almost guaranteed to blue screen right then and there, just for a few seconds, and then open-mouth gawk at you before recomposing himself and nervously straightening his bowtie.

It’s also important to note how all of his linguistic capabilities go down the drain after maybe a day or two of this.

“Heyyy, so uh, are you doing anything later? You should stop by the observation chamber, I need you to type… umm… type for me. Yeah- YES. Typing! Lots of typing! On a keyboard! Nothing else, that’s for sure! Later. Be there.”

“Can you help me adjust my coat? Specifically around the umm… waist… area. I tried to iron it but I fucked it up a bit, and uhh, it keeps making this weird crease- what? What do you mean you don’t see a crease? W-Well, it’s easier to feel it than anything! See where I’m pointing? Right there- oh. I mean… yeah, I guess I can just reach it myself if I can point that close to it- right. Right, okay, thanks.”

“Hmm? Oh, am I standing in your way? Well, I’m getting a very good signal from this specific spot. No, I can’t get this signal from anywhere else. If you want to get past me, that’s your problem, and I’m afraid you’ll just have to move me yourself. Wh- you’ll go the long way? Alright, well, good! Didn’t want you to move me! I like my signal! Go get your own, you freeloader!”

After a few days of this desperate act – if you choose to go this far, of course – he’ll only become more and more pitiful. There will reach a point where you literally feel so bad you just have to oblige.

He’ll be shocked, of course, and act as though he is outraged. A mere sinner, touching him?! Blasphemous! He won’t be having it!

It’s clear his attempts to “fight back” have almost no effort put in, and if you choose to call him out on it he will struggle just a little bit harder to try distracting you from the fact that he’s very clearly blushing.

And if you choose to call him out on the fact that he’s blushing, he’ll argue tooth and claw that Vox, the great TV demon, one of the supreme Overlords of Hell, does NOT blush, as his screen glows a bright cyan and he stutters over words that his processors seem to just barely kick out.

Once you make it clear after you begin the attack that you’re going to wreck him, he will make it easier for you and “accidentally” fall backwards onto the floor, allowing himself to be pinned down and tickled until he cries.

And you bet every single second that he’s going to pretend it’s the most agonizing experience ever, threatening you with everything in the nine circles he can think of…

If you want him to shut up, bring up the electrokinesis thing again and watch as he flusters himself by refusing to use it to get away purely out of spite, proving you right even more every second that he allows himself to be wrecked, knowing damn well he could get out of there immediately if he really wanted to.

The only reason he’ll actually use his electrokinesis is if you really manage to hurt his ego by teasing him… as soon as that electricity starts to spark up… run.

Death spot would definitely be his ribs. So much as quickly jabbing them will make him squeak at an unnatural pitch, quick to cover the area or grab the wrists of the attacker, sometimes both in that order. Spidering is gonna have this man screaming, gonna be thrashing around acting like it’s killing him.

Will lose his mind if you grab his waist and squeeze. Most sinners will be able to grab it with a single hand given what a toothpick he is, but for those with small hands, it’ll be even worse for him when two sets of fingers dig in on either side.

Can’t handle raspberries, seriously can’t. Right on his stomach?! How dare you! Pushing at your head half-heartedly, gripping his screen, trying to hide his face (in vain, really), squirming left and right to the point where you have to grip his sides and pin him, all while cursing you out and laughing so loud that any audio exiting his speakers peaks.

His laugh is loud in general, though, definitely borderline obnoxious, and as time goes on he’ll slowly fade out of his fake laugh that he molded over time and into a much more desperate and frazzled one. Oh, and god forbid if he snorts. Going to be embarrassed and blushing up a storm, eyebrows furrowed angrily if you react in any way to it, struggling even more intensely if that’s even possible… if he wasn’t already cursing you out, he’ll certainly be doing it then.

Remember the first bullet point? That’s where probably the worst tease for him comes into play: “admit that you’re ticklish, and I’ll stop.” You’re going to be met with a barrage of “no, fuck you”s and “go fuck yourself”s through fits of laughter. And make sure you speed up when he refuses… if you somehow get him to admit it, just remember that once you’re done wrecking him, you need to run, because he’s going to spend the next hour forcing you to admit that he’s better than you, that he isn’t ticklish, and that you’re actually the only one between the two of you who’s ticklish at all, as well as any other teases he can think of.

King of gaslighting! No one close to him actually believes him, they just know from… experience… that it’s better to agree, lest the claws get them >:]

Tickle him for too long and he will blue screen. You’ll get very clear hints that it’s about to happen, though, such as long pauses and glitching, his screen flitting across several different channels, and pixel tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

However, there’s also, of course, the option to make him melt rather than bluescreen.

His antennas are way too sensitive for actual tickling, only responding to light touches – a feather no-doubt works best.

And the effect is immediate. He’ll question what you’re doing at first before shuddering, a smile curling onto his face, and he’ll even do the equivalent of purring if you listen for the hum of his fans.

Going to be giggling shamelessly, definitely flustered but too torn to bother hiding it… lighter tickles elsewhere will make him squirm a bit, but he always seems to squirm closer than farther away.

Eyebrows furrowed from embarrassment but a wide grin and no objections -- just this seven-foot-tall gangly capitalist nightmare becoming putty and leaning against you, giggling quietly and sighing loudly when it’s over.

When he finally collects himself, it's right back to his charismatic TV persona to accuse you of doing it just because you wanted him to do it back.

#so basically #typed these all up imagining what he's gonna do to get revenge...#i can be a ler but mostly in a lee way does that make any sense #tickles #sfw tickling community #hazbin hotel vox

54 notes · View notes

bimobuddy · 29 days ago

Text

Lazy Day

Tickle fic about Bimo <3

Tal is my sona, and technically me, but I feel more comfortable writing in the third person, so that is what I'm going to do

edit: Oops, I forgot to credit Avery and Casper to @guppygiggles sorry friend ^^

Summary: Bimo has been sleeping all day, Tal tries to get him up

Bimo lounged on the couch, belly down, his paws propped up on the arm rest and his tail flicking lazily. His ear twitched at the slightest disturbance somewhere in the distance. It was an old house, it creaked sometimes. With his cheek squished up against his arm, his eyes fluttered shut once more, ready for his third nap of the day.

A nap that was interrupted before it even started by the back door creaking open and clicking shut once more. Keys jingled before being set on the counter, and the gentle thud of a bag being placed on the kitchen table, where a certain someone knew it didn't belong.

Soft footsteps approached the couch where Bimo rested, and his ear cocked toward his housemate as they leaned over the back of the couch.

"You've been sleeping all day, Bee. I was gone for three hours and you were napping when I left, too."

Bimo opened his eye at the sound of Tal's voice and lazily turned his head to look up at them, noticing how the sun hit their pink fur. He huffed out a slight chuckle, not bothering to sit up. "I'm having a lazy day."

Tal laughed, "So just a normal Wednesday for you. Have you gotten up at all today?" They made their way around the couch, softly skittering fingers over his paws as they passed by.

Bimo huffed and jerked his legs back, his tail instinctively coming up to cover the undersides of his feet. "Of course I have. I've gotten up to eat lunch, to drink water- ... Okay so there hasn't been a lot of up today."

"Maybe you should get up and walk around for a bit then, stretch your legs.. Sitting still all day isn't good for you, and you know that." They replied, sitting down on the edge of the couch to avoid sitting on his legs.

The blue cat sighed. "I'm nocturnal, I can't help it."

"You're not nocturnal, you just say that so I don't get on you about working at night. I'm a cat too, you can't fool me."

Bimo opened an eye and glanced up at his housemate. "You're one to talk about sleep schedules, Mx. Two-In-The-Morning-Isn't-Late."

Countless times he's been up working only to pass by Tal's room and see them up watching TV or in bed on their phone. The latest he's ever seen them still up was 4 am, and he stepped in to remind them to get some sleep. But he also couldn't deny that they had a point. His sleep habits weren't the healthiest either. He'd sleep all day, and then get a boost of energy in the evening to get started on biology work.

Bimo got too much sleep, and Tal got too little.

The pink cat started to gently shake him by the shoulder. "Bimooo, get up already. We're supposed to meet Avery and Casper today anyway. You keep accepting Avery's invitations to nerd science dinners." They said, though their tone was light and not a real complaint. Tal loved seeing them.

"Don't act like you don't also enjoy those 'nerd science dinners,' Talon, you also pop in when it gets to a subject you like and- oh a little lower actually~" he purred, not at all bothered by Tal pushing on his shoulder. In fact he seemed to enjoy it.

Their ear twitched in mild irritation. They loved their friend to death, but he was a pain to get up sometimes. But they also had a feeling he was being difficult on purpose.

"A little lower? You mean here?" They slipped their fingers under his arm and wiggled, drawing a startled giggle out of him.

The bigger cat pulled his arms in and presses them down against his sides, instinctively trying to block out the tickling. "Ru- Ruhude! Tahahalon!" Despite his protests, Tal knew he was enjoying himself. It wasn't something he often admitted out loud, but he made it clear he enjoyed it. For example, his body was still relaxed, he made no real attempt to move or push them away, and he was purring. The purring always gave him away.

He buried his face into his pillow as he laughed, and Tal quickly snatched his glasses off before he could accidentally bend or break them, setting them on the end table.

"Bee, just gehet up!" They laughed and brought both hands up and gently dug into the sides of his belly, tickling faster. The sooner he got up, the sooner they could get ready and head to Avery's.

His ears folded back and he snorted, finally moving a little and turning over onto his side, which just prompted the smaller cat to start gently pinching his lower belly. "Wahait wahahait, Tahahal!"

"Wait for what? For you to get up and put real pants on? I am!" They teased, skittering across his tummy and back up his sides, slipping their hands underneath his sweater.

Bimo gently grabbed their wrists, laughing harder, a nice dark blue spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "I hahave pahants ohon!"

"Pajama pants don't count, Beebs," they pulled their hands out from under his sweater and wiggled their fingers in the air, "Get up, or you know where I'm going next~" Their hands passed over his hips, past his knees, until they were hovering over his paws, where Bimo's tail quickly covered them.

"A-Alright, Ahalright, I'm uhup.." The blue cat pushed himself off the couch and stood up with a big stretch, his knees popping as he did so. He yawned and grabbed his glasses, slipping them back on, grateful that Tal had thought about them.

He jumped a little as he felt a smaller body press against his in a hug, trying to wrap their arms around him, followed by a light purring, which in turn triggered his much deeper purr, which was more like a rumble in his chest. He wrapped his tail around them affectionately.

"I'll go get dressed, and we'll head down to the lighthouse." He said, gently prying pink paws off of him so he could follow through with his plan.

Tal nodded and let go of him, sitting down. "Sounds good, I'll be here."

With that, he turned and left the sitting room, heading up toward his bedroom, the ancient staircase complaining and groaning under his weight. Once in his room, he changed out of his pajama pants into something more suitable for a visit with friends, and slipped on a sweater that looked nearly identical to the one he had previously had on, only it was a slightly lighter shade of pink. He didn't have much variation in his wardrobe.

When he descended the stairs and entered the sitting room again, he found Tal leaned back against the couch, asleep.

With a fond sigh and a shake of the head, he carefully lifted his smaller friend into his arms and carried them out toward the car.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #bimo's ocs #Bimo and Tal #Bimo fic #sfw tickle fic

14 notes · View notes

august-anon · 1 year ago

Text

Revenge is a Dish Best Served With a Smile

For Tickletober Day 4: Weak Spot

-----

Fandom: Critical Role

Ship(s): Widomauk (though more implied than explicit)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Mollymauk/Ler!Caleb

Word Count: 1446 words

Summary: Mollymauk was getting a little too bold, thinking he could always get away with his tickle attacks. Wizards may not be known for their strength, but no one has ever said that Caleb isn't resourceful.

[ao3 link]

----------

Caleb knew he was an easy target. Wizards weren’t exactly known for their strength or agility, after all. The thing was, he never expected to become a target in his own party.

Ultimately, it had been Jester’s fault – with her particular brands of mischief and physical affection, it had only been a matter of time until weaknesses were revealed. But despite her position as their resident trickster, Jester wasn’t the one Caleb needed to keep an eye on. No, that was Mollymauk, taking advantage of Caleb’s sensitivities in every spare moment he could.

Internally, Caleb could just barely admit to himself that he didn’t necessarily mind it. Maybe, sometimes, when he was particularly tired (or blissed out post-tickle attack), he could even admit to himself that he liked it. Just a little. But that didn’t erase the fact that Molly was getting a little too bold, a little too sure of himself when it came to his attacks. Caleb knew he wasn’t untouchable, he’d watched Yasha and Jester take down Molly when he got a bit too cocky, but therein came the problem. Jester and Yasha were strong and quick – they knew exactly how to take Molly down in order to shut him up or exact their revenge.

But wizards weren’t exactly known for their strength or agility.

Still, weeks of tickle attacks could not continue to go unpunished.

As it turned out, Caleb’s opportunity for revenge came packaged nicely in one such attempt. He had sequestered himself in his tavern room for the night, studying some new scrolls they had found on their latest adventure, when Molly found him. He sighed and allowed his eyes to flick up towards Molly for just a moment before returning to his scrolls, and Molly seemed to take that as his invitation into the room. The bed dipped next to him as Molly settled himself down, and he could feel the tiefling heat radiating off him as Molly leaned into his space.

“No merry-making for you tonight, dear?”

Caleb sighed again. “I do not make merry, Mollymauk. And in any case, I am busy with far more important things.”

Molly reclined on the bed behind him, curling a sly fingernail into the folds of his shirt, tugging slightly. “It’s just as well, I suppose. Beau and Yasha are trashed already, and frankly, it’s more than a little painful to watch.”

Against his better judgement, Caleb snorted. Mollymauk’s finger plucked at the loose edges of his shirt with more intent.

“Fjord’s well on his way there, as well. By the time I left, he looked half a drink away from slamming Beau and Yasha’s faces together himself.”

“Perhaps he should,” Caleb said absentmindedly, bringing the scroll closer to his face to squint at a specific rune.

He heard Molly let out a dramatic sigh as the bed shifted with his restless squirming. Then, he jumped as he felt a thin band begin to wrap around his waist. Glancing down, he saw Molly’s tail wrapped around his body, the spade of it hovering threateningly near his bottom rib. Molly’s fingernail had also found a new home, having managed to untuck Caleb’s shirt and slip underneath it to trace the curve of Caleb’s side just above his hip.

“Molly,” Caleb admonished, shifting his weight toward the nightstand in case he needed to swiftly get his scrolls out of harm's way.

“Yes, dear?” Molly purred.

“I believe it would be wise to quit while you are ahead. You’re distracting me.”

Molly chuckled behind him and sat up, pressing his chest to Caleb’s back. “Was that a threat, Mr. Widogast?”

“Perhaps it was.”

Molly chuckled, and Caleb flinched as Molly’s tail tightened around his waist, the spade of it beginning to wiggle into the space between his two lowest ribs. “Such confidence from a man in your predicament. Tell me, how exactly do you plan on wriggling your way out of this one?”

That was an excellent question, in Caleb’s opinion, because currently he had no plan. He didn’t even know if he wanted a plan yet, or if this was yet another instance Mollymauk would have his mirthful way with Caleb without consequence. But in either case, Molly’s tail’s ministrations were becoming ticklish enough to make him squirm. He couldn’t help the instinct to reach up and grab the thing. Molly let out a startled sound (much like a cat, Caleb thought fondly) and tried to wrench the limb away, but Caleb tightened his grip, smoothing his thumb over the spade of the tail to try and stop it’s squirming. Instead, the squirming (both from the tail and Molly himself) increased tenfold and Molly let out another startled noise – this one pitched far higher than the last.

“Alright,” Molly said, his voice high and wavering, “you’ve made your point. I can leave you to your boring old books, if that’s what you really want.”

Caleb hesitated, smoothing his thumb over the skin once more and gaining himself another frantic tug. “I apologize, am I making you uncomfor–”

“No!”

Caleb finally looked over his shoulder, finding Molly’s too-wide eyes already locked on his. His lavender skin had tinged a darker purple across his face and ears and all the way down his neck. As Caleb continued to analyze him, Molly swallowed heavily. Caleb narrowed his eyes. He knew this wasn’t an inappropriate situation – Molly and Jester had never expressed discomfort with their tails being handled before – but even if it was illicit, Molly wasn’t the sort to blush and squirm from those sorts of things anyway. He’d be more likely to flirt and tease and try to make Caleb blush instead – not that that was a particularly difficult feat.

Carefully, gently, Caleb brushed his thumb back and forth across the flat of the tail’s spade. Molly lurched forward, practically squealing as he curled up against Caleb’s back. A slow smile spread across Caleb’s lips.

“I see.”

“Caleb, don’t tease.”

Caleb let out an incredulous laugh. “And why should I not? You’re quite fond of teasing others in this position, are you not?”

Molly’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I still have my pride,” he ground out.

“Well, let me relieve you of that, then.”

Caleb brought his free hand up, spidering his blunt nails on the flat of the spade. Molly broke down into gasping giggles and went limp against Caleb, fingers clutching onto his shirt. His tail tugged for freedom, wiggled in Caleb’s grip, but seemed altogether too weak to be able to break free. Caleb chuckled and tickled his way down the length of Molly’s tail, watching as he arched his back the closer Caleb got to the base of it. He wondered what would happen if he tickled there and the spade of the tail at the same time, but he didn’t think it was possible with only two hands and the strength of a wizard. At least, not without some maneuvering, and he didn’t know if attempting to adjust them would trigger Molly’s revenge.

“I see why you do this so often,” Caleb said. “It is quite amusing to watch.”

Molly simply made a wordless whine, curling further into Caleb’s back and side until his face was buried in Caleb’s hip. He’d all but melted otherwise, aside from his shaking laughter and the twitching of his tail. Caleb’s smile turned fond.

“I’d almost say you like this. It’s quite cute actually.”

Molly grumbled something unintelligible into the skin of his hip, and Caleb flinched at the ticklish feeling, his own tickling faltering for a moment. Caleb sighed and paused his revenge, weaving his hand into Molly’s hair instead to scratch at his scalp. If possible, Molly melted even further into Caleb and the bed, practically purring.

“Perhaps the rest of us should get revenge more often, ja?”

Molly tilted his head up just enough to be heard and said, “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I’ll remember this for next time.”

Molly grinned at the promise, and Caleb couldn’t help but smile back. Absentmindedly, he lifted Molly’s tail to his face and pressed a quick kiss to the spade of it, forgetting the prickliness of his scruff. Molly’s eyes blew wide again as he squealed, high-pitched and near-deafening, and launched himself backwards on the bed, ripping his tail out of Caleb’s hand in the process.

A dangerous grin that felt very much like it belonged more on Molly or Jester spread across Caleb’s face. “Or perhaps I’ll make use of it right now. What do you think?”

Molly’s tail twisted into excited little curlicues between them. “I’d say you’re rather foolish for expecting me to go down without a fight twice.

#tickle fic #my writing #critickle role #lee!mollymauk #ler!caleb #ticklish!mollymauk #critical role #cr #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #tickletober #tickletober 2023 #augtickletober2023

58 notes · View notes

switchundercover · 1 year ago

Text

"You Can't Tickle Yourself"

——————————————————————————

AN: HELLO EVERYONE!! I'm back again with another spiderverse fic because my silly little brain is obsessed with it and I am constantly starving for content- AND SPEAKING OF STARVING FOR CONTENT, I made a thing with Miles and prowler Miles (who I decided to call Miles G in the fic, idk how to feel about it but I felt it was the simplest way to distinguish them-) because I've only seen like one tk post with prowler Miles in it and I'm literally starving for more content of him, so I made something myself! Hope you all enjoy the brothers be brothers :]

——————————————————————————

Miles G. Morales, also known as The Prowler of Earth-42, was sat inside Miles Morales' room, also known as the Spider-Man of Earth-1610. The two versions of each other had- well.. a really big, life threatening fight a few months back, but ever since that got resolved, Miles had been trying to fix things with Miles G. Their relationship had been pretty rocky, and Miles wanted to fix it.

And if that meant tickling his counterpart to pieces, then so be it.

"H-hey! Stop that! I told you I wasn't ticklish-!" Miles G said, wiggling around underneath his spider-man counterpart, who had straddled his hips.

"No way! We're the same person, so that means you have to be ticklish!" Miles replied, scratching at Miles G's ribs. Miles G was indeed, ticklish (in fact he was so ticklish that it was almost concerning), but he would rather die than expose this secret to his more playful counterpart. So, he turned to squirming around and surpressing his giggles, weakly batting at Miles' arms.

"D-dude! Get off-!" Miles G stammered, his body tensing when Miles' fingers moved to the rib that was just below his armpit. Miles noticed this, and gave Miles G a knowing smirk, keeping his fingers stationary on the sensitive spot. Miles G tried to pry Miles' hands off of him, but with that extra strength Miles had from being a spider-person, his hands weren't going anywhere.

Miles pressed his fingers against the area once, and was delighted to see that Miles G had covered his mouth and jolted hard. In fact, he was forced to stifle a squeak from the insanely ticklish feeling. "Hmm.." Miles hummed, looking down at his Prowler variant with a wide smirk. "We have different ticklish spots! That's cool!"

As soon as Miles started pressing his fingers against Miles G's top ribs, the teen immediately lost it, bursting into a loud cackling fit. Miles couldn't help but grin from the reaction, finding the laughter coming from his Prowler counterpart.. absolutely adorable. It was unpredictable, and uncharacteristically high-pitched. And personally, Miles loved it.

"C-come ohohohohon! Get ohohohoff!" Miles G squeaked, his eyes shut tight as he tried to hide his giggles through gritted teeth, his attempts to do this failing miserably.

"Come on! Just a bit longer.." Miles responded, a playful grin on his face. Miles' hands were anything but predictable; as one moment he'd be scribbling his fingers against Miles G's ribs, and the next he'd be pressing his fingers against the softer skin on his torso, which in turn made the teens laughter shoot up an octave, and it gave his face a new red tint.

"Aww.." Miles cooed, his grin getting wider as he gave Miles G's hips a few experimental squeezes. Miles' Prowler counterpart reacted with a hard jolt, and a newfound desperateness in his laughter. Miles couldn't help but feel a bit more fond of the laughing, squeaking teen he had pinned underneath him. Seeing his usually stoic and mildly sarcastic counterpart laugh like a child.. it made him happy, knowing that Miles G probably hadn't laughed like this in a while.

On the other hand, Miles G was having the time of his life, not that he'd mention it out loud though, he'd rather die than admit he was enjoying.. this. Miles was right, his Prowler counterpart hadn't laughed like this in a good while, which was probably the reason why that, after a while, Miles G stopped squirming and fighting against Miles' hands, just letting himself laugh his cares away.

Miles was more than happy to make his counterpart laugh, reaching for the most ticklish spots he could find. With a grin on his face, Miles used a bit of his venom electricity to zap Miles G's hips, his eyes sparkling at the loud shriek that followed shortly after.

"NOHOHOHOHO!! WAHAHAHAHAIT- THAHAHAT'S NOHOT FAHAHAHAIR-!" Miles G argued through his laughter, mirthful tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Miles only chuckled, tilting his head as he went back to squeezing the poor boy's hips. "C'mon.." He began, his right hand sneaking under the fabric of Miles G's shirt to scratch and squeeze at the bare skin. "You can take a lot of pain, but not a lot of tickles?" He lightly teased, his grin softening into a playful smirk. What Miles said was definitely hypocritical (he, like Miles G, was concerningly ticklish), but it was fun to tease his more serious counterpart, so all hypocrisy was ignored at the moment.

Miles G's laughter started becoming wheezes, and it started to cut out more often, which gave Miles a silent indicator that he should soften up a bit. Miles' rapid squeezes and scratches gradually became feather-light traces on Miles G's hips, keeping the boy in a light state of giggles, but still letting him catch his breath.

After a bit of tracing, and one final squeeze that made Miles G squeak in surprise, Miles stopped, getting off of his counterpart and sitting beside him. Miles G was practically gasping for air, a few airy giggles escaping his lips.

"You.. you are.. evil, Spider-Man." He muttered under his breath, his body still tingling from the relentless attack. Miles couldn't help but laugh, giving the other boy one final poke to the side. "And you're ticklish, Prowler." He retorted, grinning at the way Miles G's face turned red from embarrassment.

Miles G eventually caught his breath, sitting up and putting a hand to his stomach. Miles expected his counterpart to look at him with an angry gaze, one that radiated a lust for revenge. But.. Miles G's gaze was a bit softer. Well, there was a hint of smugness to it, a way to silently tell Miles that his Prowler counterpart eventually would get revenge.. but he didn't know when.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me." Miles said, gritting his teeth in a mix of fear and slight playfulness, which in turn made his tone sound more nervous than anything.

As if the boy wasn't just tickled to pieces earlier, Miles G flashed his counterpart a small grin, raising his chin up slightly. "I didn't expect you to." He replied, a small, yet slightly dark chuckle coming out of him.

Despite liking it, Miles G was not one to go down without a fight. It was that competitive spirit of his which, much like Miles, wouldn't allow him to let the other person get the upper hand. And something that Miles would eventually find out, was that the Prowler indeed, did not back down so easily, and he had no trouble biding his time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike...

——————————————————————————

#across the spiderverse tickles #atsv tickle #atsv tickles #ler!miles #lee!prowlermiles #also technically lee!miles bc they're the same person??#sfw tickle community #tickles #tickle #tk community #sfw tk community

43 notes · View notes

crestfallenyh · 1 year ago

Text

2:52 AM.—

“well, it’s not cookie dough but i remember you once told me oreo ice cream was your favorite, so…”

you rolled on your back just in time to see yunho drop the convenience store bag filled with sweets and something that very much looked like a box of medicine on the kitchen counter. you smiled at him, reaching out with your arms extended and an inviting look on your face. it was late, probably well past two in the morning on a regular thursday and he had gone out in search of ice cream for you.

over the weekend he had invited you to the movies, taking advantage of his free time and hoping the lovely summer weather would be a good setting for him to see you after not being able to come over or go out at all the last couple of weeks. he wanted to catch up because he had missed you, badly. playing games on his own wasn’t as fun as it was when you were there to cheer him up or laugh at him for losing, and yes, he had to admit that hanging out with all of his friends there except for you had been less enjoyable, even if the slightest bit. performing and working had been enough to keep him distracted but he couldn’t help the lingering feeling whenever he looked around and he couldn’t see you. that’s just how life was though, comeback time was usually hectic and life had been busy for you too. that’s why he was so excited to see you and hopefully spend his whole day with you. unfortunately for you, it had rained pretty heavily and even though you absolutely loved summer evenings filled with warm rain, you were also very prone to catch a cold and after your little weekend trip, you were now sick.

after a couple of days the symptoms of your cold had subdued a lot and you were left now with only a slight headache and the occasional sneezing but yunho was still treating you like you were made of glass, making time amidst his packed schedule to check on you and asking what you needed. his reasoning was that he felt guilty. thanks to him and his idea of going out you were now like this, and no matter how hard and how many times you tried to explain to him that it was okay (from reassuring him to “stop bugging me, i’m doing good!” three times a day) or how much his group members teased him, he was still firm, going as far as to run to the nearest convenience store after getting to your place and asking what you had for dinner and after you told him you were craving cookie dough ice cream.

“that’s right, that’s my favorite. thank you though, you didn’t have to…”

your voice faded with a slight groan when the weight of his body pressed down against yours on the couch because he was now hugging you like he had gone three days instead of twenty minutes. you stayed like that for a bit, taking in the smell of rain and the faintest trace of fabric softener from his clothes and the cold touch of his jacket against your fingers. as much as you liked acting like you were annoyed by him, you were very grateful that he was taking care of you, even if it was not his responsibility and he had other things to think about. you tightened your arms around his shoulders and just when he was about to complain, your sneeze made him jump from the couch with a mixture of playfulness and worry on his face. his fluffy hair near your nose had been the culprit of your sneeze but he looked ready to scold you like he had been doing the entire week.

“you know, you shouldn’t be eating that when you are still sick”

“i’m not, i promise. it’s just that doodle hair of yours, it tickles”

yunho brushed a hand through his hair, scanning you up and down with slightly frowned brows.

“okay fine, but if you’re eating the ice cream, you’re also taking the pill for that headache,” as you were about to protest, he turned on his heels and walked to the kitchen, “and i don’t wanna hear any complains”

you rolled you eyes at his back, amused over the fact that he was gentle and bright most of the time, but could also behave like a parent whenever he was worried. you stood up as well, walking over to your best friend and thanking him as he handed you a cup of water.

he sat down in front of you, eating in a comfortable silence for a while until he started telling you about his day and everything he had done. you looked at him and couldn’t help but feel a pinch of something in the pitch of your stomach while you listened to him and occasionally commented on his stories. with everything that had been going on these past few days you knew he wasn’t taking proper care of himself and it was obvious in the way his tired expression didn’t seem to vanish even after trying to hide it with smiles and mischief. his skin still had that very characteristic healthy glow, but he had the look of someone that hadn’t had a full eight hour sleep in weeks. he had the permanent expression of somebody who was worried, and every time he looked at you, it was like he was about to say something but decided not to. although you wanted to, you didn’t say anything. as much as you would like to ask if he was okay, you knew he would brush you off until he was ready to speak on it. so you let it go, and by the time you were finished joking around, it was almost four in the morning.

“are you going back to the dorm?,” you asked, voice laced with sleepiness, “you can stay here if you want. it’s too late to be on the streets now”

“or too early,” he jokingly corrected you before standing up and nodding, “okay, i have to be at the company by noon anyway, it’s closer from here”

you walked to your bedroom first with him following closely behind. he had clothes at your place from whenever he would stay over for the night so after getting changed, you both got into bed. it would seem strange for anybody that didn’t knew you, but you had been super close from the moment you met and by now, it was not a rare occurrence for you to sleep in the same space, wether that was your bed, his bed, the back seat of his group’s van or even their couch at their dorm. you ignored the fluttering on your chest when he looked over at you from under the bedsheets, with his dark eyes sparkling and the slight flush of his cheeks, a clear sign that he was getting sleepy.

you made yourself comfortable on the bed before reaching out and clearing his bangs from his forehead. it was was a sweet gesture, something you hadn’t done in a very long time.

“thank you for being here, yunho”

he nodded, still with the same odd sparkle in his gaze.

“it’s the least i can do for you”

#its not even a blurb or timestamp anymore #i just really love writing little snippets of very mundane situations #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yunho scenarios #ateez timestamps #yunho fluff

119 notes · View notes

misscammiedawn · 1 year ago

Text

Penlight - Spoiler Analysis/Review Post 1 (Nozomi Route)

Download Penlight (Pay what you like) from Itch.io here

My other Penlight reviews: Quick Review - Sayori (Part 1 - Doll) - Sayori (Part 2 - Alter)

Turq's reviews: Hiroko Robot - Hiroko Tickling - Nozomi Zombie

So I had reviewed the game Penlight before and wanted to give some more praise on its narrative choices and themes. I felt the best way to do that was to break down the routes I enjoyed and what I learned from them.

Before I begin I wanted to say much of the discussion here breeds in from @spiralturquoise and I going back and forth on this game for weeks. Turq is writing a post as well and though we share many viewpoints we come from different angles. We are also aware that we have our own biases and headcanons which we may present as fact, Nozomi being AroAce for example. This post represents a read of the game and we actively encourage people to have their own reads and share them so we may read them.

My posts are going to be plot overviews with analysis. Turq had a fantastic bit of commentary on my first post and I wanted to keep the conversation running.

This post is from the perspective of someone who either has already played and enjoyed the game or someone who isn't going to be convinced to play without having been spoiled first.

If you're on the fence, play the game, come back. It's a few hours commitment and so worth your time.

The post will be here when you get back <3

So as of the latest public release this is the route map:

It sort of looks like the map of Dracula's Castle.

Also this post and any future posts will only feature content from the public release. Nozomi Reversal route is actually polished as of writing for Patreon members with a better script and CG for the ending. This is using version 0.1602.1.

As you can see the game is pretty broad. The map is color-coded between the Brown (Nozomi), Blue (Sayori), Pink (Hiroko), Purple (Consequences) and Salmon (Villain) routes.

Ignore the green, those are just to highlight the latest changes to the map from prior versions.

So I thought I'd handle my Spoiler posts the same way. Brown, Blue, Pink, Purple and then... I think I'll skip Salmon. I have no real desire to play the villain routes.

Though I was happy to see this in the Q&A segment of the Discord:

I am glad this game continues to deny any attempt at vindicating unethical choices.

Anyway. With that preamble. Let's get started with Nozomi's paths...

To begin the Nozomi route Kyou will mention that he has been studying hypnosis and this will trigger Nozomi meeting with him at a cafe after school to ask about his experiences.

She admits that she has been into hypnosis for several years, fluctuating between shame and pride in her interest, admitting that she had not intended to practice in real life until she found herself volunteering for the hypnosis show during the previous cultural festival, an impulsive action that was driven by her repressed desires, she notes that she did not plan on volunteering until her hand was already in the air.

Nozomi regrets that she did not get a chance to bond with the senior who ran last year's show and is now admitting it to Kyou.

From the offset the power dynamics are skewed. Nozomi views Kyou as a stalker and knows he has no friends to practice with. But she is also quick to keep things even by admitting her fetish, overtly admitting she "gets off" on the topic, noting how giving this information to Kyou is a risk.

In showing too much of her hand, Kyou, who does not himself have a hypnosis fetish, despite his study, gets a window into her fantasies.

Nozomi enjoys hypnosis and is excited by it.

Nozomi fantasizes about giving up complete control.

But she is aware that such scenarios only exist within the realm of fantasy and she understands hypnosis enough to know that such a thing could never happen and because she knows this. Because she has found someone who knows how hypnosis works. Because she regrets not being able to make a connection with the last person she could connect about hypnosis with, she tells him she wants him to hypnotize him.

What comes next is the first hypnosis scene, which takes place in Kyou's home.

Every route of the game follows the same timeline for the most part. Most of them keep to a week or two time frame where some others stretch out over months. But the facts of the timeline are always true. Many of these facts will come into play later on but it's important to note them because the writing around these "canon events" is tight.

Kyou's father works until late and will always have a business trip to excuse his absence for weekends. I believe I have only seen him show up one time in the entire visual novel, referenced in text as Kyou speaks about his previous night.

So with an empty home Nozomi comes over and sets down the ground rules.

Sessions are to be discussed in full before approaching hypnosis. All sessions are to be recorded. All suggestions are going to be tidied up at the end.

Kyou performs a quick down-up with a simple number amnesia suggestion (albeit there is a blank choice for a future route where you break her consent at this time) before Nozomi realizes that she needs to go home for dinner and heads out leaving Kyou feeling that the scene had no adequate deescalation and he's left to feel things were left off without a conclusion or understanding with where he and Nozomi stand in their freshly ignited entanglement.

I want to get into the canon events a little more later on, but there is a level of beautiful dramatic irony that DeMille tends to take when it comes to how she approaches similarities in the routes and consistency of the characters or timeline, particularly in how Kyou's choices impact the characters. Hiroko is the most notable example as her tennis scholarship can be at risk even if the surrounding events of the week cause her to worry. Her emotional state mingles in with how she plays tennis, after all.

I explain this as each character is well written on their timelines and depending on how early or late you play Nozomi's route in your exploration, you may find that Nozomi's evening actions are more flexible than the other girls. With Hiro and Sayori there are external factors at play with their tennis, study club and cram school commitments. With Nozomi the amount of time she gives or refuses to give, with very few exceptions, is her choice alone. She also denies Kyou justifications, though they tend to mostly be around her not wanting to explain herself to friends and family. Sometimes we know from other routes why she is unavailable, sometimes we do not. It helps put the player in Kyou's perspective. Not knowing if they can trust if Nozomi is getting her fill and abandoning Kyou or if the pair are doing a poor job of planning their scenes to include deescalation, debrief and aftercare.

Kyou's confusion grows the next day when Nozomi refuses to associate with him at school the next day. A theme which grows larger in two of the routes. Feeling like he is a shameful secret, much like Nozomi's interest in hypnosis, Kyou is forced to wait until Nozomi returns for more sessions, completely in the dark as to where he stands.

When he asks for clarification on this topic Nozomi makes it very clear.

She has no intention of dating anyone.

From here you are given the option of either respecting her boundaries or pretending to. Pretending to locks you in to a bad ending from the Delusion route.

Agreeing will begin the divergence in the tree to chose from 3 options. From here on I'll be focused less on plot outlines and more on plot analysis as it is at this point the themes of the game begin paying off.

Trance: Kyou introduces a reinduction trigger and the pair explore the kink with increasing levels of thrill seeking. We get to see the risks of abandoning safe framework, the hurt that comes from compartmentalizing your kink and social lives.

Reversal: Nozomi is offered the penlight and becomes the dominant. We get to see how the girls must have felt under the penlight's sway and experience Kyou being unambiguously mistreated without the fallback of "it was his own fault"

Zombie: A massive abreaction happens and the focus of the story falls upon safety and mitigating damage in hypnosis scenes.

So let's do them one at a time.

Trance:

One of the biggest themes of this game is that hypnosis is a collaborative action that takes place with communication, trust and caution. As I had mentioned in the initial review post any of the endings which are considered "good" involve the penlight being broken as it represents a "one way" process of hypnosis, whether it be overriding agency, skipping communication/feedback or removing safety.

It's my personal view that the penlight represents the toxic elements of a hypnotic relationship and compress the timeline of damage from years into a single week. It's one of the few things that Turq and I diverge in from our reads. It's also why I think Turq's review of the Nozo-Trance route is going to be the definitive one, in the same way I intend my analysis on the Sayori-Alter route to be definitive when I get around to writing it. My history with the toxic elements of hypnosis all revolve around a lack of safety in hypnosis itself, after all and that is the lens I approach things from.

The reason I say that is because the Trance route is firmly based in the relationship aspects of hypnosis and how trust, communication and collaboration need to be established.

Nozomi continues to treat Kyou as a trance dispenser in this route, disappearing when their scenes are concluded. She also intends for hypnosis to only work when they are in Kyou's home as a way to ensure it is secret from the world and no one can know the things that she is interested in.

This leads to the route being divided between scenes at Kyou's home where the pair slowly erode their safeties to introduce more and more exciting ideas into their mix and school scenes where Kyou is ignored by an increasingly standoffish Nozomi who refuses to acknowledge Kyou's existence outside of sceneplay.

Kyou even says it himself in narrative "I might be the one hypnotizing her, but it's really me following her suggestions around here."

When Kyou stands up for himself and says that he didn't even know if he needed to prepare for Nozomi's arrival her reply is nonchalant.

At the start of the route Nozomi was eager to be fully communicative of all things and yet as her comfort with this arrangement has continued she has assumed more and more that Kyou would be willing to go along with anything she wanted. The divide between them grows more as Kyou finds that his day-to-day life hasn't really shifted as much as he would hope.

So... if "good communication and mundane hypnosis" is part of the condition for a good ending, what is a condition for a bad ending?

Outside of the obvious outcomes such as being expelled or punished, a decent number of endings have Kyou given the responsibility of caring for another human being who no longer has agency.

The game is always clear that when collaboration breaks down but the hypnotic relationship remains then one party is having to do all of the work and it is not a good thing. There is no ending in the game where Kyou is willing to or enjoys having a mindless and controlled partner.

That's important to note because with the understanding of Kyou's comfort there we know that collaboration and a relationship (not dating, just a relationship) is what he desires and in this route he is not receiving that because Nozomi stonewalls him.

What's worse is that she's not even put any thought into the fact Kyou may feel this way.

But hey. It's not like he's a mind reader or anything...

Oh by the way the suggestions have subtext to them. We'll get to that a bit more with the Nozo-Reversal route.

From here Nozomi has Kyou say her trigger phrase (and almost crashes into the floor because there's no safety in place for how she flops) and Kyou has her come clean.

Nozomi is finding it increasingly more arousing how little control she feels she has when she is in Kyou's home and much of her fantasies involving hypnosis revolve around a complete helplessness.

The fact that the penlight is overriding her caution, repression and agency is something that she finds actively enticing and even the act of being forced to confess her "shameful" kink is alluring to her.

This squicks Kyou out enough that you are forced to make a decision on if you even wish to pursue a relationship with her. A sign that even the person enabling her fetish isn't fully accepting of it. A bad ending will occur if Kyou decides not to continue, but to continue he now finds himself on the slope and catering to her desires.

The problem is, they're not communicating.

Nozomi told him all of this under hypnotic compulsion. She is no closer to reconciling the shame from her sexuality but now she has revealed the depths of it to Kyou and he has taken it as instructions. In exchange Nozomi will try to include Kyou in her life more.

Kyou then goes online and begins reading ReadOnlyMind stories and learning what he thinks a hypnofetishist would enjoy and has come away from the encounter believing that Nozomi actively desires having her agency removed. The lack of communication allowed him to know what Nozomi desires and he has mistaken it for what she wants.

Further up the slope and with some dangerous new ideas of what their fun and games should be, Kyou visits Nozomi's home on Saturday and discovers that his post hypnotic suggestions still work on her outside of Kyou's home.

In every route Kyou is a believer of the "essential lie" of hypnosis. "No one can do anything under hypnosis that they didn't want to do."

That will come up a lot. The Delusion path is a thorough takedown of the idea in general.

Here it informs Kyou that Nozomi is eager to surrender her agency and removes another layer of safety. The rule that the suggestions only impacted at Kyou's home has eroded.

The pair commit to some kinky shenanigans and Nozomi's mother almost catches them doing some hypnotic rope play that is well handled in CG art and I shall not deprive you the enjoyment of seeking it yourself (the game is "pay what you want" on itch) but stands to show two things.

Kyou is having more fun like this and Nozomi is becoming increasingly comfortable with her desires and allowing for more risk taking.

Also there's a choice between spanking and tickling and I firmly believe that this is the most overtly erotic scene in the entire game. Kyou keeps testing her limits and whether it be via the penlight or Nozomi being free to explore her kink without any shame, she keeps on matching his challenge at every turn, seemingly enjoying every second of it, even when they court the danger of discovery.

Kyou even notes a few times that she never breaks scene at any point for her own comfort or security.

...I will save my personal commentary on hypnotee agency until Sayori's review... But I have thoughts.

At the end of the day in which Nozomi insists Kyou needs to head home, Kyou suspects he is being brushed off again because Nozomi had her fill from the scene and no longer wishes to be around him. She says that she has no more time for the weekend and will see him on Monday.

Kyou decides to press back and hypnotically forces her to come to him the next morning. They even stay up online to discuss their next scene.

Unfortunately Sunday is, in every single route of the game, Hiroko's tennis tournament and Nozomi must dedicate her day to being with her bestie and throwing her a karaoke party afterwards.

But her compulsion commands her to go to Kyou and so she does, abandoning her friend.

The next morning they have a roleplay scene that is increasingly high stakes and Kyou continues to press his advantages, unaware of the sheer power of the penlight. She even gets Nozomi to her underwear with very little effort.

Though the scene requires a little bit of management afterwards, Nozomi forgetting that her clothes are her own, it was an enjoyable experience for them both.

But then her phone pings and she is informed that she is missing Hiroko's game. She insists she has to leave and Kyou, not understanding the importance of this event, pushes back and assumes that she is once again ditching him because the scene is over and she does not want to deal with Kyou outside of their play.

There will eventually be a route where you get to hypnotically command her to stay but for now Kyou accepts that she has to leave.

Having let down her best friend, Nozomi withdraws and goes back to the former arrangement, scolding Kyou via text message for attempting to pester her during school and says that she needs to take some time to focus on study, leaving Kyou feeling abandoned again.

Something they both fail to do as they fail their mock exams hard and this leaves Nozomi feeling yet more shaken and wanting to retreat from kink.

However she believes that if they just "get it out of their systems" they'll be free from their obsessions. Leaning further into the slope that the pair are on.

The safety and sanity have long since vanished off of the horizon in their risk profile and consent has been on a broken foundation since the start.

What follows is a scene where they bring their kink into school hours. Creating an open trigger (with no safeties) that will reenact the tickling/spanking trigger from the weekend.

It goes poorly. Regardless of the effect Nozomi will feel it continuously for the full lunch hour and it gets worse with every iteration of the trigger.

That night the pair attempt to mitigate the damage and once again the thrill of the high is placed above the detriments it is having on their social lives.

So Kyou decides to escalate instead of deescalate.

This is not a good idea.

The scene escalates until Nozomi is on her knees wearing nothing but her underwear and unable to speak above a whisper, exclusively referring to Kyou as "Sir". The further into the scene the pair get the more Kyou shapes himself to become the type of hypnotist he believes Nozomi dreams of.

At this point you are given your final options for the endings:

Make me a cheese omelet - Become my girlfriend - Become mindless for me.

Nozomi actively resists the penlight and tries to physically restrain Kyou to prevent him snapping his finger or pressing her forehead to force her to be his girlfriend. This is the one boundary that you had to accept at the start of the route to allow things to get to this point. You literally cannot reach this moment without Kyou agreeing to respect that boundary and breaking it is a guaranteed bad ending. Either Kyou steals Nozomi away from her friendgroup and the pair will sink into their kink exploration with no allowances for their school, career prospects or external friends to interfere or Nozomi will succeed in stopping Kyou from robbing her of her agency and leave him for breaking her one rule.

The "mindless" ending is... dark. I'd rather not go over it as it doesn't make additional points other than having Kyou finally understand his penlight robs people of agency, which he does not learn in this route until the very end.

The omelet ending is a sweet and tender scene between the pair which has an ethical jumping off point.

The next day Nozomi slips and refers to Kyou as "Sir" during school hours and her friends instantly get on her case about it.

I should note here that Sayori knows Nozomi's fetish in every route. These little bits of characterization that remain constant through all of the routes really add flavor to certain interactions.

The true growth comes when Nozomi, seeing Sayori interrogating Kyou and thinking the worst of him, comes in and offers to invite her friends to Kyou's house to tell them everything.

Once there she discovers all the programming tied to being at Kyou's home kicks back in to both party's surprise. Kyou agrees to remove all suggestions so they can talk.

The subject of the penlight is raised and they finally realize that it is a bit special...

Kyou puts it eloquently here:

The penlight is destroyed leading to the golden ending of the route. Nozomi, realizing how much damage the pair had done in their chase of thrills, cuts off from hypnokink to focus on her studies.

After a timeskip she meets up with Kyou after exams and says she has been watching hypnosis videos again recently and asks if they can start exploring again without the penlight.

She accepts that she still does not want to date but she may end up treating Kyou as a trance dispenser again if she approaches without an arrangement and Kyou says he doesn't want to push her. The pair communicate and agree that they just want to explore out of friendship and interest.

Nozomi kisses Kyou on the cheek and it is clear an establishment of trust has been made and the pair will find something more healthy this time.

Now... I'm the type of person who enjoys watching "analysis" videos that just tell the plot beat for beat and I would need so many more hours to even attempt that for the entire game so I'll be more swift with the other two, especially as a lot of similar ground is covered. I'll likely do a more full breakdown of Alter route for Sayori but let's get through the other two a bit faster...

Reversal:

One of the main reasons I wanted to do Trance route in full and show off how the entirety of a route plays out is that the knowledge of how other routes play out help so very much with the retelling and expanding on the themes.

If Nozomi takes possession of the penlight then Kyou will become her plaything for the duration of the route. Her behavior is not altered, however. Her risk profile is, however.

In the Trance route Nozomi wants to put strict safety and restrictions on early play because she is afraid of being discovered and does not fully trust Kyou to play with her mind. She does not hold the same reservations in reverse, however. So what happens when someone who ditches scenes without deescalation is running the scene?

A constant "Bad" condition on any route is an open trigger/suggestion that bleeds outside of play spaces. We say a lot of that with the restrictions of Kyou's hypnosis only supposed to work within Kyou's home in the trance route and how things get worse when that restriction is tested and broken. In other routes one of the absolute worst situations is the impact of a suggestion exiting the scene and stretching out into the world.

God I should have started with Sayori...

As a sidenote, Hiroko's route actually has some mildly positive impact (at least not inherently BAD) of play stretching out beyond scenes. But Hiroko's routes are a little more light hearted than the serious lectures on communication, safety and abreactions that Sayori and Nozomi's routes deal with.

So Nozomi's first command is to perceive her as invisible and she runs off to her evening plans without closing out the suggestion.

As I said earlier, the suggestions are symbolic at times.

One of the most interesting things about this route is that we get to see what the girls experience with their time going under for the penlight. Most of the inductions involve Kyou starring at the penlight for a few text boxes and then waking up with no clue as to what happened.

Kyou also likes asking his hypnotee their opinion on topics and finds that they're always accommodating and accepting of his playstyle. Nozomi was remarkably good about all of the events that transpired in the Trance route after all...

Sorry, Kyou...

The penlight makes it so enjoyable to go into hypnosis that you cannot really advocate for yourself. Hypnotee Agency is not a thing in most of these routes and the Reversal route makes this clear. There is only one actual choice you can make in the entire route and it's only there because Nozomi tells Kyou to make it.

Incidentally the bad ending of the route (newly added as of this update) is unlocked by making the insignificant choice of "pat head" or "striptease".

Turq and I have a mild disagreement on this moment. I believe that when Nozomi sees that Kyou is willing to and incapable of stopping himself from getting naked for her she is so turned on (sexually or otherwise) by her level of control that she is pushed over the edge of morality. Turq's read is that she dehumanizes Kyou in that moment and loses empathy for him that leads to the good ending.

Odd that the sex-repulsed asexual has the read that she was turned on.

Anyway...

Nozomi continues to ignore Kyou at school and come to his house at night to brainwash him and selfishly steals him away for Hiroko's tennis match, asserting that she is going to take him with her for the celebration.

Funny. In Trance route Kyou subvert's Nozomi's agency to have her skip the tennis match, in Reversal route Nozomi subvert's Kyou's to force him to attend.

In this route she doesn't mind associating with Kyou with her friend group because she is in control and doesn't feel like the association will out her or be a mark of shame for her being a "freak" (her word, not mine).

She puts Kyou through a mortifying scene and bullies her friends around to get her way with making it happen, the power of the penlight having brought up some bullyish tendancies within her. She wants to check in that Kyou is okay but as before he is only allowed to agree.

During school she continues her unempathetic behavior and starts a big fight with her friends when they attempt to talk to Kyou and she continuously talks over him and at one point she even commands him not to say a word.

Nozomi's behavior is fairly toxic at the end of the fight, going as far as to pull a guilt tripping "I'm horrible" as a way to distance Sayori.

The controlling behavior and lack of communication, trust and safety bleeds out once again as she commands Kyou to tell her the truth about if she is a horrible controlling monster and he does.

He tells her she has not been fair. That she stopped cleaning up her suggestions the moment she took over. She took Kyou's stated limit (not wanting to sing karaoke) and instantly overrode it. She forces Kyou to hang out with her friends but does not extend him empathy or kindness. She just treats him as a toy.

Like. Literally. He tells her outright.

This causes Nozomi to get defensive and demand that if Kyou was so upset then why did he chose to continue obeying. We are then lead to the good end or bad depending on the earlier scene.

In the good end Nozomi breaks the penlight realizing what she has done and in the bad she becomes Miss Akemi and makes full use of the penlight.

The deprogramming scene that follows is actually remarkably tender and sweet with all the tenderness of someone's first hypnosis scene, checking back and forth if the other is okay, Nozomi knows she has gone too far and is so careful in this sequence.

To add in to how tender and connected the hypnosis scene is, this time there is no brutal cut between penlight and waking. We are in Kyou's perspective the whole time as his eyes slip closed and he follows Nozomi's voice through the experience. We get to see Kyou reacting to Nozomi's words and experiencing the delightful relaxation and trust he has in Nozomi during these moments. He wonders if he is actually hypnotized while agreeing in thought to go with it.

Eyes open and close for fractionation and each time the artwork fades in and out, Nozomi's expression becoming more serious and/or concerned as it continues.

Questions of if it's working become certainty and Kyou even notes "I can't resist" not because his agency is overridden but because he tests his eyes and knows he cannot open them and that's okay.

"I just want to listen."

This is by far the longest hypnosis sequence in the game and it is essential that this be the case as it is the thesis statement of the game being played out. We are not witnessing the trust and tenderness of a well communicated and safe hypnosis scene, we are experiencing it.

The ending even has Nozomi accept the consequences of her behavior and make-up with her friends, admit her fetish which is one of the hardest things to achieve in any given run and Kyou is earnestly and honestly part of their friendgroup. Nozomi notes that she may wish to buy a pocketwatch in the future.

In terms of "good end" this is one of my favorite because Kyou gets to be friends with everyone, Nozomi comes to terms with her repressed desires and we get one of the most pure displays of hypnosis in the entire experience.

I am curious about other people's feelings on this one.

I'm running on fumes for the remainder so maybe I'll cover "Zombie" route later.

All I will say is that it is a route that is begun by Kyou having Nozomi imagine herself as a zombie, likely thinking of the Chinese Zombie trope of arms stretched outright and looking dehumanized. Nozomi takes it literally and tries to bite Kyou's flesh off.

This entire route is punctuated by abreactions and hypnotic safety. We are reminded of our fuck-up throughout the route by a giant bruise on Nozomi's character model (and lack of glasses for much of it) and it is the only route where all three of the main girls get involved with the experimentation around hypnosis right from the get-go.

With everyone clearly communicating and trying to accommodate for safety we still, in the mock stage hypnosis scene, get an abreaction despite every suggestion being very well laid out. It's almost weird how well packaged they are in this route and highlights how sloppy the suggestions are in the rest of the game.

The idea being that no amount of safety is going to cover everything. When we play with hypnosis we cannot possibly know every single thing about every single person we play with and mistakes can and will happen and we have to both own that and minimize the amount of harm we do by being tidy but also by talking out suggestions first and not springing them on people.

No matter how careful we are there will always be mistakes and it is better to deal with those mistakes before the scene than during it.

It's actually a remarkably good fable and makes a stunning point. I think that erasing all the barriers (Nozomi's shame of being discovered, Hiroko assuming the worst of Kyou, Sayori being involved enough to be the sane one in the room who has researched enough to know what is true and not attached like Kyou and Nozomi enough to not let things slide) and showing Kyou make sensible suggestions is the best way to approach this.

Even in the best possible timeline where there are no external factors and everyone is on their best behavior you can still mess up.

...and boy howdy we are going to mess up a lot in the rest of the game.

Next time I'm going to trauma dump on you all and type more than is necessary about Sayori's routes and reveal why my Penlight tag is "Sayori is best girl".

But for now... I have typed a lot and I do not wish to type any longer.

Eagerly awaiting Turq's post.

#camden posting #dawn posting #sayori is best girl #penlight #visual novel #hypnokink #I need a blended tag for when a post isn't solely authored in a specific headspace #media essays

18 notes · View notes

eunchancorner · 2 years ago

Note

You said Ler!Bob prompt? I am here to deliver!

Instead of eating his arm, Bob has another idea for our favorite dorky vampire.

We got some more big brain prompts here, guys! I’m thinking this might take place in my Tickle Cult AU, so yeh :> Also I should have expected to get two prompts for the Streber scenario, just didn't realize i'd get the second WHILE working on the fic

Ler Bob, Lee Streber

Warning: cussing ig??

Word count: 1136

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now, get inside, and get scared!” he told two kids, one dressed up as a skeleton, the other as a pumpkin, who ran inside the haunted house with enthusiastic giggles. Steber loved his job. He loved kids, he loved Spooky Month, he loved Halloween. And every year, he was in charge of the haunted house, with all of it’s attractions, his friends working as his scare actors, the greenscreen mirror he had made all by himself! He was proud to call it the hauntiest of houses (no matter how stupid Kevin called it, it didn’t matter, he could tickle him until he admitted it was cool anyway).

He adjusted his costume a bit, trying to be sure he looked his best before he heard the stairs thud heavily behind him, his brain immediately going to Another potential spook!

He turned slightly to see a man dressed as a red devil looming… almost ominously behind him. He wasn’t sure why something felt wrong but he pushed it aside. After all, it was the very day of scares and spooks, so surely he’s just a friendly devil, right?

“Hello, little devil fellow! Would you like to get scared?” he greeted enthusiastically, his smile as wide as ever. He noticed the person had a smile that was even wider.

Maybe he’s just excited?

“Did you know that rib meat is the sweetest meat on the human body?” he drawled out, his voice deep with a slight country accent. The strangely morbid fact put every sense of Streber’s on high alert, as he turned to face the man full, who stood up to his normal height, now towering above the poor vampy boi. The ravenette nearly shrunk back into himself.

“... what?...” he got out, very unnerved by this stranger, a pit of dread settling in his stomach. Suddenly the stranger grabbed him by the arm and lifted him to meet his eyes, bringing him a solid foot off the ground. He was aware of everything at that moment. The slight breeze chilling him more than it should have, the tight hold the gloved hand had on his wrist, his legs dangling uselessly, but most importantly, the huge smile and nearly deranged eyes staring back at him. At that moment, he was nearly sure he’d been caught by some kind of psychotic serial killer.

When that face changed from an evil grin to a smirk, he wasn’t sure what to feel. Scared? Slightly relieved? There was something about that smirk that made him think he wasn’t about to die but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Until he felt something.

A soft poke to his side, not quite much, just enough to get him to let out a soft squeak. But he guessed by the fact that the pokes started to repeat, especially around his ribs, that this was the reaction the stranger had been searching for. Suddenly Streber recognized the look. A ler smirk, almost identical to the one Kevin would give him before absolutely destroying him with tickles. And sure enough, the squeaks caused by the soft sensations that left his ribs buzzing with a new, ticklish energy were slowly turning into quiet giggles. His ribs weren’t too bad, unlike his neck and shoulders, but they were still ticklish nonetheless.

A sudden, light scratch at the space between his ribs jolted him out of his thoughts and made him curl up with a much louder squeak. The odd devil started tracing patterns along his ribs, occasionally scratching just enough to tickle way more than Streber thought he could be ticklish there.

Oddly enough, Streber didn’t feel the need to push this guy away. After all, he obviously wasn’t going to hurt him. Maybe this was his odd way of making friends, and besides, it was just tickling, and it was fun! Of course, that didn’t stop the rest of his body from trying to curl up and hide.

His giggles climbed to laughter as the clawed gloved started gently kneading at his ribs, causing him to kick a bit to dispel the ticklish energy starting to fizzle throughout his body. His free arm clasped tightly to his side as though expecting the hand that was holding him up to join the attack as well. What happened instead, however, made nervous excitement fizzle inside him.

“I think it’s time we checked on that fact I told ya, make sure it’s still true~” the much taller spoke, and before Streber could even try to remember the fact or figure out what the heck he was talking about, he was being held under the arms and raised even higher. It took a second for him to process, and that second was all it took before there was a sudden, soft, way-too-ticklish-to-be-legal nibbling at his ribs, bringing his laugh to a near cackle. He kicked and finally tried to fight back, pushing at the man’s head with his now free hands.

“WAHAHAIT PLEHEHEHEASE!!” he got out around his laughter, his head had already been fuzzy from the soft sensations and now it was buzzing, his whole body filled with a wildly ticklish energy that made the tickles feel like they were spreading to his armpit and side.

“Wait for what, lil vampire?~”

“IHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!”

“Well, I’d think so, I am ticklin ya after all~”

He had no idea how much longer it lasted, but, finally, it stopped and he was set down on the porch of the haunted house. The strange man went inside, leaving the poor little vampy nerd to sit outside and recover, still giggling and pink-faced and panting.

After a bit, the two kids from before came back out, and, of course, they saw him. The skeleton kid came up to him and gently shook his shoulder.

“Hey, mister, are you okay?” they asked in unison, and Streber nodded a bit.

“Oh, hey, I think I know what happened!” the pumpkin kid suddenly piped up.

“I do too! Did someone tickle you?” the skeleton kid asked, and he nodded before he knew it.

“Did the tickler hug you or give you candy??” He shook his head.

Suddenly, he felt two little hugs around his arms, and then a few pieces of candy plopped into his lap. Before he could get up the breath to thank the kids, they were already waving goodbye and heading down the street.

He looked up as he heard that familiar thudding and saw the very man who had tickled him senseless just moments before, and once again, before he could ask anything, a water bottle landed near his hand. He took it and unscrewed the cap, drinking it slowly and sighing in relief, finally cooling off. He looked up again to see the man was gone yet again.

Hm, what a strange man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#eun writes #sm #spooky month #sm streber #spooky month streber #sm bob #sm bob velseb #spooky month bob #spooky month bob velseb #sm tickles #spooky month tickles #lee!streber #ticklish!streber #ler!bob #bob velseb

55 notes · View notes

happyandticklish · 2 years ago

Note

ok writing out my thoughts is a lot harder than i expected because there’s just so little scenarios that izzy would Let himself be vulnerable in.

but say there’s been a raid, and izzy’s been injured. nothing huge, but his hand’s a little messed up. he knows he should go to roach for anything like that but that would mean admitting to a weakness, no matter how small, which he just won’t do. he won’t do that! so he makes a bandage out of spare rags and continues with his duties fine enough, but then stupid fucking stede bonnet comes along always caring about people and fussing over something minor like that, and izzy would never willingly accept help from him of all people but apparently everyone is against him today and ed’s ordering him to let stede at least take a look and he can’t just. refuse. he’s a dick but an order is an order and he’s going to follow it. so he agrees (with tons of complaining and rolled eyes), and finds himself hours later in the captains shared cabin, sat on a chair that’s far too soft with a cup of tea on the table that’s far too hot, stede’s on some rant about how “silly” he is for risking an infection for his reputation, and izzy considers leaving, slamming the door in his face and going to bed because 1) they hate each other and 2) he’s FINE. but ed is sat opposite to them, because he knows izzy and stede well enough that there’s no way in hell he’ll leave them alone together or they’ll be duelling in less than 20 seconds, and izzy knows ed well enough to know that upsetting his little boyfriend is a one way ticket back to square one. so he stays, uncharacteristically quiet save for a few complaints here and there. he’s thankful that stede also doesn’t want him there any longer than he has to, because it goes by quite quickly. but somewhere between cleaning and redressing his hand, stede’s being too gentle. he hisses and yanks his hand back, and bonnet looks up at him almost sympathetically, muttering something about knowing it hurts but he needs to get it over and done with, so izzy places it back onto his lap and turns away, biting his gloved knuckle to stop himself making anymore embarrassing noises. and apparently he can’t have any peace today, because ed’s clearly caught on, and the stupid smirk he’s wearing hasn’t been seen since they were younger, before blackbeard and first mate hands, when it was all muffled giggles and late night tickle fights, and for some odd reason his chest aches a little, but he has no time to think about it because it really tickles, and stede’s gotta be stupider than he looks because there’s no way he’s not realised between all the scuffed boots and huffs and slightly red face, but he seems … oblivious? and izzy’s never been so happy for something to finally be over.

“come back tomorrow mate, yeah? just to make sure, can’t risk you being out of duty.” ed says innocently enough, but the shiteating grin he has makes him more nervous than he cares to admit, so he nods and leaves without even a thank you. and when he’s finally out of earshot, the first thing stede says once he stands is “ticklish?”, and ed cackles.

Dude

DUDE

This is such an incredible concept you can't just casually drop this in my inbox!!!

This flustered me a tad more than I'm willing to admit lol. Because as stated before, Izzy absolutely has ticklish hands, and I can completely see this scenario happening. And the bit about Izzy reminiscing on past tickle fights I am going to cry you cannot just bring shit like that up

And Stede's innocent little, "Ticklish?" at the end is so cute too. Because you know Stede would never use it against him but Ed for sure will and absolutely rats out the fact that Izzy doesn't mind it later on. Not that Stede isn't still hesitant for fear of Izzy killing him asjgjhjki

Thank you so, SO much for this, this is actually my new favorite thing in the world <3

#asks #tickle headcannon #steddyhands #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #blackstede #edizzy #headcannons #tickling #answered ask #sorry this took so long to respond to btw!!!#ive mean meaning to get to this for forever and kept forgetting it was in my inbox ;-;

24 notes · View notes

sgcairo · 2 years ago

Note

Need Headcanons for Ivan! (l'm Childfree until it’s my baby lvan.)

Ohoho boy, I am so glad you asked because Ivan has been living in my head for a while now. And by a while I mean months, he's just a little grumpy guy that I love goofing around with.

For context (and those who are new here), Ivan is one of my many clone descendants (Danya's "cousin" by Irnes) and actually should appear soon in Telegraph, if I have my chapters straight... If you've ever wanted a grumpier and more angry wet cat energy version of Danya, you've come to the right place! He also happens to be a (future) general under Capitano, he's pretty good with the blade but not good enough to be a Harbinger (yet)!

So here we go, onto the Ivan headcanons!

-Ivan is surprisingly physically affectionate. He's not exactly cuddly, but if he likes you, he will find you, and he will stand by you awkwardly until you give him attention. As a child, he had the habit of hugging Irnes' leg and clinging to him like a little koala, which translated into bone-crushing hugs in his older years. While he's much more hesitant to dish those out, Danya is always there with an excited smile and open arms, which Ivan will never admit to enjoying hugs from his overexcited cousin. Never. You'd have to kill him.

-Baby Ivan was very quiet. Quiet to the point that Irnes freaked out and thought he was dead on several occasions, only to find that Ivan was just staring at him sleepily. The only time he cried was for the basics, otherwise Ivan was deathly silent, other than the happy giggles when Capitano would tickle him or Irnes would bring out the many accursed "toys" the segments made for Ivan. Those things definitely weren't baby safe, but hey, Ivan lived. Despite the many close calls, the segments were very proud of their work, to the point that Prime himself had to tell Irnes to get them to shut up.

-Child Ivan was also quiet, but not afraid to speak his mind. In fact, his speech was quite eloquent, even more formal than Danya's at the time, and that big brain of his could sustain conversation with Pierro, of all people. His ideas and opinions were definitely a lot more mature than they should've been at the ripe age of seven, but the Harbingers found it amusing that a seven year old had such strong and developed opinions on the "stupid experiments" Dottore was conducting- and the fact that he was proposing methods that might've been a bit fantastical, but definitely thought out.

-Ivan is generally cold to everyone, but Dottore- he hates Dottore with a burning passion. He loves his father, but Dottore presses all his buttons the wrong ways, and Ivan's quite sour about his abandonment of Danya, even if it's technically all in the past.

-Since Danya almost never gets angry, Ivan tends to be angry for him. The two don't usually come as a package deal, but when Ivan hears about a recruit being rude to Danya, or a foreign emissary overstepping and crossing the line, he'll put them in their place accordingly, and be in a bad mood for a while. That usually means he hacks up some training dummies, but he's been known to have a temper when Aurelio in particular is involved, especially after the accident with Danya's near death in Fontaine (that Aurelio was responsible for).

-Ivan also takes his role as the defender of his family quite seriously. He has two younger siblings, both which he adores, and he ensures that the court isn't making remarks about his father with force. In fact, part of the reason he's in the Snezhnayan military in the first place was his desire to protect his family, and keep them off the streets when times got rough. While yes, that did mean that he entered training at the age of thirteen, and fought on the battlefield for the first time at fourteen, the thought of ensuring his family's safety kept him going, and ultimately motivated him to climb the ranks.

-He's very close with Capitano and (begrudgingly) Tartaglia. Since he's a part of the infantry, and a general, he tends to follow Capitano more, but Tartaglia will show up to demand that they spar regularly, which Ivan has learned to reject. He's not eager to get blood on his freshly pressed uniform, please and thank you, and besides, he's got better things to do. Things like talk to Capitano about troop movements, and follow his senior around like a shadow. In fact, many of the Harbingers have taken to calling him "Capitano's lapdog", much to his disgruntlement, since it's rare to find Ivan without Capitano being nearby.

-Furthermore, on Capitano and Ivan's history: Ivan was originally promoted because he survived his first battle, and in an interesting manner. Ivan's panic at having a gun in his face manifested a vision, one that sliced all the surrounding enemies to ribbons in a mere second. It's not that visions are exactly rare in the Snezhnayan military, but seeing such a young boy, carrying one and looking grim like death itslef as he stood as the only surviving member of his platoon... Capitano's protective instincts kicked in more than he cares to admit, and he took the boy under his wing. He knows greatness when he sees it, and he wasn't exactly wrong.

-Capitano definitely pats his shoulder or back as a signal for Ivan to back down. Yes, Danya teases him for it. Ivan is conflicted.

-Ivan always stayed by Irnes as a child. Unlike Danya, he never really cared to explore the outside world, instead more than comfortable to sit in his father's lap and look at all the machinations and genius inventions that he designed. At one point, Ivan wanted to build ruin machines too, so he could be just like Irnes. He looked up to his father (and still does) more than he cares to admit, and holds him in high regard.

-Irnes was definitely a more gentle parent, especially with Ivan. The other two, he had to be a bit more firm with, but Ivan... He was always a cautious kid, and more often than not, he would come back to Irnes anyways after his "adventures" outside Dottore's lab. Ivan wasn't much of a talker, instead preferring to be more physical with his gestures, but he would always tell Irnes that he loved him whenever he thought about it, which made his dear old dad quite happy.

-Ivan has... mixed feelings when it comes to the Tsaritsa. He worships her, as she is his archon, and respects her power, but he's never been as close with her as Danya has. A part of him is jealous at how close his cousin is with Her Majesty, especially given how Irnes was also close with her, but another part of him knows better than to desire these things from his queen. The few times they have interacted on a less professional basis, she has always looked at him sadly, as if she knows something he doesn't.

Anyways, that's just a little peek at my thoughts regarding Ivan! Hopefully that made sense, because that's a lot of information to cram into one post...

#il dottore #dottore #il dottore's clones #genshin oc #genshin impact headcanons #fatui harbingers #fatui headcanons #genshin impact #ivan #irnes #capitano #danya #anastasiy #just me throwing a bunch of angry cat energy on this poor boy #i love him so much

13 notes · View notes

dangerouscommiesubversive · 2 years ago

Text

tell me what you've got in mind

Warning: NSFW

Characters: Himeno Ran, Yanma Gast, Shiokara

Ships: Himeno Ran/Yanma Gast, Yanma Gast/Shiokara

If your preferred reading experience is AO3, you can also find this fic there.

Himeno's first impression of Yanma's bedroom is that it smells like the inside of a gym sock, and she tells him so, and in response he squints at her for a moment before saying, "I would love to know who told you about gym socks, because I'm pretty sure you've never even seen one before."

"Excuse me, I am perfectly aware of what a gym sock is, do you think Ishabana neglects physical education?" She points, delicately, to the desk chair. "In any case, you've left a pair of yours dangling off the armrest."

"Mm? No, those are Shiokara's."

"...I'm sorry? How did your vice president's socks get into your bedroom?"

"The same way his underwear did," with a gesture to a blue thing that's bunched up on the nightstand, "he was wearing them when he came in here and then I took them off him."

She stares at him for a moment, trying to be shocked, and then pouts and says, "Admittedly he's very cute." In fact, she can sort of picture it, Yanma hauling his adorable second-in-command into this big, cluttered room and pinning him to the wall. Shiokara seems like he'd be very sweet, very considerate, like maybe he could be convinced to beg charmingly–

Yanma drops to his knees and ducks his head under her skirt.

She won't admit that she squeaks, if he asks, because squeaking is undignified, but privately she knows exactly what sort of noise she just made. Out loud what she says is, "If you snag my underthings on your jewelry I will make you buy me new ones, that's pure Toufu silk and it's very expensive."

He says, "Yes, Your Majesty, I can recognize my own country's merchandise," and she can hear him rolling his eyes, but–she had forgotten that they were an N'Kosopa brand, even though she knows N'Kosopa has the very best tailors, and also his breath is hot against her pubic mound and it's quite distracting.

His fingertips have the funniest calluses, too, and she squirms a bit feeling them trace along the waistband of her underwear before they curl in and tug down. After a moment she decides to be obliging and lifts one foot, pleased with the care he takes to slide the delicate lace and silk off without snagging it on the heel of her shoe–and then it's down, still hanging loosely around her other ankle as she hooks her knee over Yanma's shoulder and pulls him in. "Well?" she says, ignoring the way his ridiculous hair tickles her stomach in favor of the much more interesting sensation of his ridiculous jewelry prickling against the inside of her thigh. "Get to it."

"Oh, right away, Your Majesty," with another tangible eye roll, but then he very much does get to it, he licks up along the folds of her labia and then presses a surprisingly delicate kiss to her clitoris, and she wobbles a little and hums in the back of her throat.

As her gaze roams over the room once more–"A bit faster, thank you."–she once again spots Shiokara's socks draped over the arm of the desk chair, and wonders if Yanma got down on the floor like this for him. "Good, that's, hh, that's good. Now, I like a circular motion, I assume you can manage that?" She hopes he did, it makes a lovely mental image–Yanma on his knees, he looks very nice on his knees, tugging off Shiokara's shoes and socks and then pulling down his absurdly cute wide-legged pants and kissing his way up from the knee along one pale thigh–she's getting short of breath. "Fingers, now. That's a plural, I want two–that's right, good job."

Yanma makes a little noise against her when she says that last part, and she files that tidbit away for later and then digs the heel of her shoe very lightly into his shoulder so that she can steer him a bit. He's got one of his wonderfully muscular arms wrapped around her leg to keep her steady, and his fingertips dig into her thigh right next to his ear wrap, and she can feel his lips moving for a moment against her. Saying, "Yes, Your Majesty."

His fingers curl inside her, and he traces another circle on her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, and she orgasms against his mouth with a shuddery sigh. He keeps licking through the aftershocks, until she pokes him in the back with her heel again and says, "That's quite enough, get out of there."

He lifts her leg off his shoulder, very carefully, and then there's some rustling as he shifts back out from under her dress. His eyes are pleasingly foggy-looking, his mouth and nose and chin shiny with her, even if what he says is, "Fuck, you're bossy."

"Naturally." She reaches out and runs a hand over his curly hair, as she's been rather wanting to do since she first met him, and then takes a quick assessment of the stability of her legs. "Good boy. You may take me to bed now."

"Oh, really, may I?" He stands up and quite literally sweeps her off her feet and into a bridal carry. "You're going to need to give me a minute to find the condoms–"

She sniffs. "I'm on the most advanced birth control known to current science and am tested for communicable diseases every other month as part of the royal health regimen, we can dispense with those unless you have something."

He blinks down at her and then shrugs. "Have it your way."

"Yes, I think I will."

Three long strides across the room, and he doesn't quite drop her on the bed, he's really very gentle, but he's somehow gentle with a dropping attitude, which seems appropriate to him. He pulls off her shoes and still-dangling underwear and tosses them into his desk chair, drags his own shirt off over his head and lets it fall on the floor, steps out of his own shoes, and then he's on the bed on top of her, propped up on his elbows, and he says, "So did you spend that whole time thinking about Shiokara? Should I be getting jealous or something?"

"Hmph." She shifts, runs her hands down his sides, and then starts undoing his belt. "Yes, I was thinking about him, but I was thinking about him with you, so you can make of that what you will. Are you going to take your pants off?"

"You're still wearing your dress, Your Majesty."

She unzips his fly. "Well, yes, but my dress is fussy and wrinkles easily, whereas your pants look as if they'd fall off if I gave them a stern enough look."

He snorts. "Give them one, then."

So she does, and he very politely kicks his pants and underwear off onto the floor while she amuses herself by running her nails over the pleasing curves of his iliac crests. "Somehow I'd expected your pubic hair to be blue as well." She pinches one of his nipples, and he shivers. "At the very least I didn't think you'd be the type to wax."

He buries his face against the side of her neck. "Look, can I just–"

"Yes, go ahead."

He slides into her with a long exhale, slow and careful as she wraps her arms around his neck. For a moment he just stays there, very still inside her, and then lets out a ragged little, "Fuck," and presses a kiss to the pulse point in her throat.

"Yes," she says, pleasantly dizzy with her second wave of mounting arousal, "exactly that." She shifts a bit and gets her legs around his waist. "Now, please."

He starts to move, and for a moment the breath goes out of her entirely. It's been a while since she's done this with anyone; somehow she'd forgotten how nice it feels. She drags her nails down his back, not quite hard enough to leave a mark, and he shudders and says, "He's stronger than he looks."

She blinks. "Who is?"

"Shiokara." He's moved a bit, his mouth now next to her ear, and she can feel him smiling. His hips move steadily, not particularly hard or fast, pleasantly maddening. "He looks real skinny, but then you get him out of his clothes and you realize how tough he is."

"Oh." She's breathless again. "Oh, that is fun."

"It's fantastic, I got him to pick me up once and fuck me right up against the wall," with a jerk of his head to indicate where they were just standing. "He barely even got winded."

"Oh, well then." She squeezes around him and shuts her eyes for a moment, picturing it in her mind–Yanma with his back against the wall and his legs around Shiokara's waist just as hers were around his now, Shiokara's arms around him and hips pumping–"I imagine that was a lovely time."

"It was pretty great." Yanma stops moving for a moment and shifts his weight, holding himself up with one arm and working the other hand down between them. "I could ask him for a repeat performance sometime, if you want."

She arches up against him at that, marveling in some detached part of her brain about how coordinated he is that he can fuck her and stroke her clitoris at the same time. "I would enjoy that." She can feel her muscles tensing, can feel herself tightening around him, and similarly his thrusts are starting to get staggered and uneven. Nails down his back again and this time she probably did leave a mark, and then she works the fingers of her left hand into his hair and pulls. "Harder. Now."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Shiokara sneezes abruptly and nearly drops the handheld console he's using to hack into Shugoddam Castle's private web server. At very nearly the same time, a delighted cry pierces the air, from what he's well-aware is the direction of Yanma's bedroom.

Ears hot, he corrects his grip on his console and gets back to cracking the encrypted data storage that he's been working on for half an hour already. "I fucking swear, if this is naked pictures of the king of Toufu again–"

#himeno ran #yanma gast #shiokara kingohger #fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

bloodydragam · 1 year ago

Note

11 for the ship prompts!

11- Write about your ship waking up together.

Hey! A million years late, but here it is...

I also posted this on AO3 because I want to start writing one-shots there...

He was her cancer, her doom. It was a new nightmare that was getting repetitive these last few nights. One day, out of nowhere, V just disappeared. One second, they were talking normally, and suddenly this feeling of emptiness began to spread, from his chest and into the entire world. He tried to call V, but there was just silence. He suddenly had a new body and could do anything he wanted with it, he had not taken this one to the limit with alcohol and drugs, but it wasn’t fully untouched by his destructive manners. The body was his because he killed V, and even if he had tried going on with his life, it just made no sense. Nothing could make him get rid of the emptiness.

“Val…” he mumbled, starting to wake up in the middle of the night. He immediately felt the bed against him, V’s pillow under him smelling like her shampoo, and her hair falling down his face. He tried to reach her, wanting to caress her face and move the curl of red hair out of the way, but then, as every time he woke up, he remembered the Relic and how the hand he was moving wasn’t his and how she was totally out of his reach.

Johnny sighed, knowing that V would be awake and in full control again in a few minutes. The nightmare he had was still a possibility, and that made him shiver.

But suddenly, someone touched his hand in a soft manner.

“Hey…” V said, sounding drowsy. “What was it?”

Suddenly memories of the last few weeks and some promises made in Mikoshi got to his mind, and he was relieved that everything had, in fact, been a nightmare and that everything was fine. For now.

“I have to get used to this, ya’ know?” he commented, squeezing her hand, letting her know he was fine; no anxiety attack, no horrible flashbacks that night, just a harmless nightmare that was losing all meaning now.

Around Johnny’s torso, V’s hands wrap around him, as her curl of hair moves away from his face.

“Yeah, me too,” she nodded, “I sometimes go around life, just doing stuff, and I still expect you to suddenly appear in my view, making some snarky remark about something.”

Johnny wrapped his arms around her too.

“I bet you miss me doing that,” he whispers to her while playing with her hair. “Your daily life must be boring as hell without me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” V agreed, knowing there was no point in denying it. “I must admit, doing merc work is not the same without you… it feels more… more.”

“More…?” he pressured.

“You’re gonna make me say it?” V groan.

“Mhm” Johnny kissed her cheek. “Make me happy.”

“It’s lonely, okay?” V smiled, feeling his kisses. “It is so fucking lonely… I actually don’t know why I am still doing it. I never wanted this, for starters.”

“Then just drop it… join the band, you will make it big as our singer.”

“If you keep saying that, I am gonna start considering it. Ready for me to steal your spotlight, rockerboy?”

“Now, now… don’t let it get too much into that pretty head of yours. You are still not better than me.” Johnny tickled her a bit.

V rolled to her side of the bed, smiling. She looked so happy, Johnny doubted anyone could make her as happy as him, and he cherished that idea.

“There’s still that plan about hitting the road, though… playing at different bars across the coast, maybe causing some mayhem along the way. Corpos won’t bother themselves anyway.” that made Johnny smile too, doubting anyone would make him as happy as she did.

“Yeah, there’s that too” he said, caressing her face in the most tender way he could, making her lean into his touch.

“So… you’re gonna tell me what that nightmare was about, or is it one of those you won’t talk about?” V asked, sounding a bit worried.

Johnny shakes his head, enjoying the view of V looking happy and calm, just as he was in that one moment.

“I will tell you in the morning…” he says, dragging her closer to him. “Let’s just keep talking. Tell me how much you miss my incredibly good looks being there with you every damn second of the day.”

V chuckles, knowing this quiet moment in the middle of the night was helping him with whatever he had dreamed about.

“Alright, alright… where could I start?”

#yay asks!#otp: one and the same #johnny silverhand #oc: valery rodriguez #my writing #silverv

6 notes · View notes

fluffallamaful · 2 years ago

Note

llammmmaaaaaa!! i have an idea for the egg thing and making it into ticklessss!!!!!

ok so yes I am stealing this type of concept from myself. and yes it is obvious that i love this type of trope ahfknd

so basically i just immediately imagine how adorable it'd be if dream coming across a species of egg he wants to take care of, that instead of heat and warmth to hatch it needs happiness/laughter.

eeeeeeee :((( all i can imagine is just c!dream (or any variation of dream) finding these eggs and are like "yes 🥺 mine now" like some deep parental instincts take over that he can't explain

and after this he spends h o u r s trying looking and researching through book after book to find a look alike so he can identify what eggs they are. otherwise how will he know how to take care of them!

the one who finds them is actually george ! who was helping dream research after the younger had begged him to ahfkbsjs and when he thinks he's found it he just grins and goes to tell dream the good news

dream is ecstatic to have an answer! so much so he doesn't really realize the circumstances. like "dream, i don't mean to ruin the celebration and be the voice of reason, but the eggs need levels of serotonin from the caretaker, including genuine laughter. do you have a plan of how to do that?" george asks this with an eyebrow raised. he himself already has an idea they could go with but he wants to see what dream will think of

dream goes silent in thought. he could get sapnap to chat with him maybe. surely if they have a fun conversation there's sure to be bits of laughter in between right? he looks to george though. he knows his friend well and he knows when the other has an idea

when george tells him what he's thinking, he expects dream to outright refuse or at least go defensive but he *doesn't*. he wants so badly to be a good caretaker to these eggs he's totally willing. and in fact he's actually a little excited to try! from now on daily, or at the very least every other day, as dream holds the eggs and gives them warmth or care he'll have to have someone lightly tickle him to get the laughter the eggs need :(

they don't go overboard, not much is needed. most of the time it's just high pitched titters and quick giggles, something to do to unwind at the end of the day :((((

literally the whole time dream is giggly and slightly whiny when the tickles gets to be too much or too fast. he doesn't wanna hurt the eggs! dream holds them close to his chest and a comforting hug. his eyes are closed and his cheeks are super red. he and george engage in little bits of small talk here and there but mostly it's just cooing and teases met with embarrassed complaining and giggly comment about how it tickles :( the eggs always hum in happiness to all the laughter <3

-emmadoodlewrites

egg eve gege eggs eggs egg wqweeeeeewoooooo!!!

absolutely in love all of this :( like from the “yes, mine now” moment, to the process and then the hatching 👀 (which im specifically ok with because dream’s not the parent of this egg??? idfk. gotta just let the brain do it’s thing lmao). but remember those lil tickle monsters we made that one time? 👀

anyyywaayyyyy. it’s all super cute coz of the following reasons;

dream failing to realise what he’s getting himself into until george’s hands are literally on his sides. like not taking into account how embarrassing it is and everything

soft tickles 😖 like ughhhhhhh my heart. the lil titters, the soft coos and teases. the idea of him holding his egg so close so that it gets all his giggles 🥺

the fact that it happens daily 😭😭😭 like straight away i’m imagining dream having to remind george on certain days. :(

also hcing that caring for the eggs makes dream an absolute softy. which he’s ok to show in front of george. but absolutely in denial about it when it comes to showing others. despite their being nothing logical about adopting this egg, he will still manage to find a way to explain his reasoning without admitting that everything about his decision was one made from the heart. he just wanted egg to care for :(

#llama asks #emmadoodle #llamas concepts #lee!dream #ler!george #emba emba emba emba #we love eggs #eggs eggs eggs #but specifically we love giving cdream comfort items hehehehehehehe

12 notes · View notes

tkle-parkie · 2 years ago

Text

Tickle Therapy! (Gregstophe tickle fic)

Ler!Christophe

Lee!Gregory

This isn’t nsfw! Strictly sfw and for comforting, I don’t do nsfw tickles because it makes me uncomfortable. Please understand that.

It was 1 AM in a Motel cabin, two boys decided to stop by to rest while on a roadtrip to register a room… Though one of them notices the other isn’t sleeping very well...

A brunette boy named Christophe creaked the door wide open, laying his eyes on a blonde boy, wearing his long sleeved jammies laying on his stomach, facing on the end to where his arms were dangling off the side.

“Bonjour, Gregory.” Christophe spoke to him, revealing the blonde boy is named Gregory.

“Oh, g’day.” Gregory greeted him back, lowering his head back onto the bed to stare into the screen of the TV, which was the only light source that lit up both of their silhouettes in the room. Gregory did show that he was visibly happy to see Christophe, giving a welcoming smirk and a wave with his hand. But he also looked tired, clearly not interested in whatever is on and only lost in his thoughts.

The French man decided to join his boyfriend by sitting on the edge of the soft mattress. Feeling comforted by how quiet and relaxing it was in the room, after a bit of a long day of driving on the road, for days on end, taking his time to relax.

To cut off the awkward silence between him and Gregory, he spoke up “ Is zere anything interesting on?” He spoke along with a very thick French accent, eyeing his attention back to him

“No, sadly…” Gregory let out a heavy sigh, showing signs that he wasn’t acting normally today. It slightly worried Christophe when noticing this, deciding to say something about it to comfort the blonde. “Are you okay?” The question caught the Brit’s attention,

Looking back up at him, his blue eyes making eye contact with Christophe’s.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Today felt incredibly boring, though.” He admits, crossing his arms to rest his chin onto them. Today did feel boring, for Gregory at least, he was inside in a car most of the time not having any enthusiasm like he usually does. Normally he would be a ball of energy, always planning out things and making up new ways to bring up conversation but today felt understimulating for Gregory. Which left him irritated and only leaving him in his thoughts to find any hints of entertainment.

Christophe wanted to shrug it off, hoping that Gregory would figure out what to do himself. But the thought of wanting to help entertain his boyfriend kept coming back to him. Helping give the stimulation he needed, to be happy and full of energy again. Christophe doesn't usually care for other people's feelings, but he cared for Gregory a lot.

He eyed Gregory’s position, specifically looking at his back since Gregory was laying on his stomach. This gave him an idea, a malicious one in fact, the idea made Christophe give a big grin across his face. His eyes filled with playful mischief,

Gregory, however, noticed this. Raising an eyebrow at his expression “What’s with the stare?” he questioned, making Christophe immediately try to hide his smile with the palm of his hand, not realising he was smiling.

“Oh, uhm, eez nothin’, just…” He couldn’t help but hold back his grin as he raised his hands away from his face, quickly placing his hand on Gregory’s back, trying to seem innocent enough. Slowly at first crawling across, soon spidering his hands to pick up the speed. Making the blonde jerk his head up in shock, immediately trying to lean away.

“Hey! What's that for?” Gregory instantly protested against what Christophe was doing, looking up at his green eyes, which he was smiling still letting his eyelids soften to give a smug look.

“What? You ticklish?” The brunette’s question almost caught Gregory off guard, watching him shuffle closer. Before a few seconds of silence after digesting the question, Gregory tried to look unfazed

"Wha–? no, no I'm not." Gregory narrowed his eyes, trying to deny the question, his cheeks flared red in embarrassment.

The brunette smiled wider, knowing just by Gregory’s expression he suspected he was lying. Besides, everyone has a tickle spot, and Christophe was determined to prove Gregory wrong.

Christophe took advantage of Gregory’s position, moving himself to straddle on his back, his hands crawling on Gregory’s side, slowly but enough for the blonde start to giggle

“You suuuure?” Christophe continued to scoot next to his boyfriend, trailing his finger tips onto his back.

“Noo I’m not!” Gregory replied instantly, his body jerked upwards, his tone was annoyed but he somewhat enjoyed his playful side of Christophe, it was rare he was ever like this, it was always fun to see it, but the downside is falling for his mischievous tricks. Such as the situation he's in currently as an example.

“Waait! N-AHAH!” Gregory arched his back in response, kicking his feet up and down almost instantly and let out a high pitched squeak

“You liar!” Christophe laughs, taking action to further prove Gregory wrong, spidering his finger tips under Gregory’s ribcage, making the blonde boy squirm underneath him. Gregory immediately tried to lift himself off from his laying position to hopefully push off from his back, clinging onto the side of the bed as his laughs escaped from his throat, having no control over his giggles.

“NOOHOOHAHA NOT THEREAHA! CHRISTOPHE!” The Brit pleaded knowing his sides were the worst part for him, having no control over his laughter, becoming unsuccessful to toss Christophe off. He was pleased at his attempt to try to push him away, taking that opportunity to reach up to Gregory’s armpits, trailing circles with his hands making his loved one let out a squeal, a very loud one at that, knowing that spot specifically is very ticklish.

This startled Christophe at first, pausing his actions, he knew Gregory since forever, and yet this noise was something he never heard from him! Lowly laughing at how funny it sounds, having such an adorable squeal coming from someone who couldn’t even shove him off.

“Ha, I ‘ever heard you make zat noise,” He let out a nervous short chuckle, “You’re gonna get us kicked out if you’re gonna do zat.” Christophe states, genuinely hoping that it didn’t wake up anyone else at the Motel. Gregory’s face flustered red in embarrassment, not believing he even did that in the first place, being put in such an awkward position.

Gregory hissed, somewhat annoyed that Christophe was getting his way, but yet he admits that it is making him feel much better from being so understimulated today.

“T..That was your fault!” The blonde argues, hoping what just happened would make Christophe not go further, but was proven wrong as he was lifted off from his position. Now held one of Christophe’s arms, facing towards the French man.

“Don’t be like zat, I’m just doing my job, mon amour..” Christophe says lovingly, moving his hand to place back down onto Gregory, this time directly on his abdomen.

“What? Iz my sweetheart a wuss?” Christophe gave off a smug playful tone, wanting to purposely annoy Gregory affectionately, which worked perfectly as he watched his lover’s face scrunch up in embarrassment, too choked up at the fact that Christophe’s fingers were slowly tickling him.

“You– eek-! Kehaha… hahahahHA-!” Soon accepting this and couldn’t help but giggle, fidgeting his legs as it got more intense, soon enough Christophe was tickling with both hands.

“Iz at least making you feel better?” Striking down his hands all over around Gregory’s ribcage, listening him squeak and laugh, trying desperately to squirm out but to no avail, trying his damn hardest at this point, but to Christophe it felt like he wasn’t even trying, making it so easy to take advantage to tease him.

“Awww, look at you, I zhould have done this long ago!” He continues, watching him thrash around and punching his fists onto the bed forcefully,

“KEAHAHHA!! STOAHAA– FUCK YOU AHAHA!!” The now more weak, and even almost crying of joy, blonde was swearing at his attacker, which amused Christophe more, brushing it off easily and trailing his hands all over his stomach and sides.

Though, he knew this wouldn’t last for long as he noticed how drained Gregory was, tears rolling down his blushing red cheeks as he was almost wheezing out his laughs completely winded. But he was satisfied enough with his state, slowly pulling away his fingers. Gregory felt relieved, panting heavily and still smiling from cheek to cheek widely, attempting to recover from the burnette’s loving attack.

“Alright, alright, mon petit squealer… You’re off ze hook ‘or now.” Before he lets go of the completely winded blonde, Christophe leans to give a small peck of a kiss on Gregory’s forehead. Pulling away to give him some air, Gregory now on his knees desperately trying to catch his breath from his chest feeling tight, but he got it eventually, still smirking no longer hiding the fact that he liked it.

Christophe held his hand, caressing his palm with his thumb

“How ‘bout now? Feel any better?” He smirks, feeling proud of himself.

“... Yeah.” Gregory finally confessed, his face almost as red as a tomato, snuggling his body against him. Christophe nods, happy that he could help out his boyfriend, loving him dearly even if he was so full of himself during the whole thing just to play around with him. The two knew they were both tired, softly wrapping onto each other as the night’s ambience filled the room; it was warm and comforting, safe from whatever was worrying them.

“..Thank you, by the way.” Gregory’s voice was soft and almost was as quiet as a whisper, resting his head onto his significant other, resting his arms beside him.

Christophe replies with a small kiss on the shoulder, clenching his arms around him close.

“No problem, je vous aime..” He hazily said as his mind drifted off peacefully.

(My first fic I've posted on here! I'm not the best at writing since it's a side hobby, plus Idk how to properly type out Christophe's french accent onto paper lol I tried my best! I hope you all liked it ♥)

#sfw tickle #sfw tickling community #tword #tword community #sfw twords #south park tickles #gregstophe tickles #gregstophe #lee!gregory #ler!christophe #sfw tickle fic #tickle fic #fluff fic #gregstophe fluff #t word #tickling

17 notes · View notes