#anyway im free from one responsibility so heres smth small before i go into another responsibility

[attyrocious]

dolorosa ❤️‍🔥

[dearest-kibble]

yan kenma who has you locked up in his apartment- it’s been some time and you’ve given up escaping but you know he live-streams so you kind of start living small clues that you’re there in hope someone will figure it out? but instead of a viewer kenma finds out; and instead of stopping you he just decides to taunt you and play along to the point his viewers make it an inside joke- the emotional rollercoaster that would be? he wouldn’t have to punish you- the crushing despair is enough alone

This is so deliciously fucked up I love it,,, thank you anon, Kenma hits so different. I love him thank you so so so much. i am working on so much,,, thank you for being patient with all my uhhh lateness? this kinda became something a little different than the prompt but hopefully thats good?

Kenma Kozume x Fem reader

tw: Typical yandere-ness, humiliation? Sexism? Mentioned stalking, (If im missing anything please let me know my brain isn’t functioning rn)

You’re sitting on his lap, camera angled so that no one’s view is obstructed by your body, but so that all his views can clearly see you. You’ve been here so long, any hope of leaving, ironically, has left you. But, the thought crept slowly, surely, deeply into your brain and hasn’t left. You turn around on Kenma’s lap, straddling him and you’re sure the live chat is going a little crazy at the thought of Kodzuken having someone in his lap while he streams and he’s probably going to tell you to get off soon, but you’ve got the chat’s attention, and you are going to work with it. You tap Kenma’s cheeks, slight squish on them and you know he hates that it’s on camera all the same, you drum three fingers on his cheek, smiling at him for the camera as your fingertips meet his clammy skin. He doesn’t tell you to stop so across his cheek you swipe your thumb three times as tenderly as possible. As you stand from his lap, you pat his cheeks, three times delicately. You look into his eyes, still as calculating as when you met him, a deceptively warm amber with the tiniest hint of frustration (and somewhere inside, you know it’s probably with you but you can’t care.)

“I’m gonna sit on the couch, ‘kay?” You call softly, hoping you were subtle enough with your plea.

“Oh, okay,” And you think you’re free before he calls a “Wait! Come back for a little.” You’re even halfway to the couch before the words rope you back in. He beckons you to lean down, and whispers into your ear. “I noticed you trying to sign to get out. Morse code isn’t as subtle as you think, you might as well just ask them to get you out,” You chance a quick look towards chat.

“Was that morse code?”

“Holy shit! Yeah, I think that was SOS.”

“You think they actually need to get out or it’s one of those ‘my bfs terrible’ jokes?”

“You see the way they were straddling? Def not a hate my bf sorta thing.”

“See?” He’s still whispering into your ear, game forgotten in lieu of what might be called humiliation.  “They won’t believe you because you want to be here. Regardless of what you say, you would’ve left already if you didn’t.” He smiles at you and affectionately pats your head. Like he’d pet a cat. The idea is still in your mind, though perhaps a little shallower. You glance at the chat once more, someone is still talking about it, but Kenma pushes you away with a “I’ll get you when I’m done, okay?” You end your night on the couch with Kenma. He smiles at you and puts your legs on his lap.

The next livestream is two days after the last one. You have something planned once more, hopefully more effective.

“I’m playing minecraft today, I could set up your computer, and we could play together?” His small smile is back. And though a kind gesture, all you can think about is how easily you could make a point.

“Okay!” The earlier plan is immediately forgotten, and thoughts of what you could do in a game, fills your mind. “Will I have a mic?”

“No, I can’t have you telling them can I?” And it clicks, because of course he’d taunt you. But it’s like your brain grew claws that cannot lose their hold.

“Will I have a camera?” And you know the answer, but Kenma might still surprise you. You’ve already had one shock tonight, maybe you’ll get another.

“No. Sorry. You have chat though.” He pats your head again, ruffling your hair. “I’ve already got you set up, c’mon.” He tugs at your hand, pulling gently.

“Thanks Kenma.” He’s put another computer across from his desk on a much smaller table made for playing cards.

“You’re all set up.”

“Yeah.” He clicks the mouse a few times, waves at the camera to his right. “Can everybody hear me?” He waits a few seconds for chat’s response. “Chat is saying yes, so let’s get right in?” He smiles sheepishly to his camera.

“Hi everyone, I’ m Kodzuken and today we are,” He pauses to look at you with honeyed amber eyes. “Playing Minecraft with my partner.” He nods in your direction. You just open the minecraft tab, the only shortcut that seems to be on the computer.

“It’s a LAN server, click that, okay?” So you click it and say nothing. You start to go through the motions of chopping a tree, making sticks, making a crafting table. Kennma is narrating what he does, and you’re not even sure where he is in game until you're knocked back and turn your mouse to look at him.

“Yeah, I know - she should be relying on me.” He’s responding to something in chat, he’s gotta be. You type a quick,

“What’re they saying?”

“Oh, that my girlfriend shouldn’t be so independent, you rely on me - I'm your boyfriend.” Kenma says it so casually, so acerbically that you immediately take off sprinting from the forest in game.  

“She has these bouts - you saw them last stream - where she likes to try and ‘get away’.” Kenma laughs softly; little glockenspiel notes falling from his mouth. “It’s a really cute joke honestly! Anyway, I’ll put my minecraft bed next to hers later, right now...” You stop paying attention and start planning how you’d try to get your point across more clearly. You could make signs, say “Get me out!” Like Kenma suggested.

“Hey! He looks over the screen at you, piercing eyes staring right through you. “Don’t go off on your own, we’re staying together alright?”

“No.” He’ll have to deal with chatting, possibly hearing you by himself. And you continue through the coded forest. It goes pretty smoothly, though you’re sure Kenma is trying to find you, you’ve already created a mine for yourself, and made a little sign with instructions that reads: “Get me out!”

“Her voice is quite cute, isn’t it? I’ll get to hear it for the rest of my life.” He continues humming out yes’s and no’s to his audience that sit captivated in a land of blocks and pixels.

“Hey, I’m going to use the restroom, is it alright if my girlfriend takes over for me?” He stands, and waves you over into his chair that’s been made for gaming and padded with red accents. He watches you with his cat-like eyes as you sit down and pats your head. “I’ll be right back Kitty, behave.” And you hear his soft footsteps get farther away and the creak of the door twice before you finally look at chat.

Woa, Kudzu got lucky huh?

“Please,” You don’t sound nearly as someone might think you would. You’ve been here too long. “Get me out of here?”

Sure sweetheart, just come over to my place first.

“Just - get me away from him please!”

Girls are so whiny huh?

Hey man, its funny at least amiright?

“It’s not a joke -”

She’s really committed to this bit huh

Damn iim staartin to feel bad for ken

Me to :(

“I’ve been here for year and I don’t want to-”

Wow. what an ungrateful bitch.

Ikr? She’s got a bf and everything and she wants to get out?

“No- it’s not like that - he stalked me for months I-” And the familiar desperation you thought hoped beyond all hope that you had lost bleeds back into your voice all repression surfaces like the tide in your eyes.

Oh fuxxx we made her cry.

relax bet she’s just on her period or smth

“I am not!” A bubble of snot pops from your nose and mucus drips uncomfortably to your lips. “I just-”

What could you want that you don’t have.

“My house! My job! My friends!” And your voice breaks

She wants to go back to a job?

Crazy lady huh.

She wants friends when all she really needs is a man? smh.

“Kitten, what-”

“Leave me the fuck alone!” It’s an outburst that you’ll regret later, for one reason or another. But for now it’s a small comfort to speak your mind. With your voice wavering and congested, you choke out a “Let me go home.” Kenma’s eyebrows furrow but his eyes are still the calculating, cold amber they always are.

“Shh shh, it’s okay.” Instead of the quick pats he’s so fond of, he strokes your hair and massages the nape of your neck like he’s picking up a kitten who's gotten into a fight. “I’m going to cut the stream, okay?”

Who’d want to leave Ken, he’s cutting the stream short to help his gf.

…….yeah

I feel bad.

“You should. Please don’t make her cry.” A few clicks later and the stream cuts. “Do you want me to upload that one?” To get your message out? You’d do anything.

“Yes please…” Someone will have to see it. How miserable you are.

“Then it’ll go up, okay?” He pats your back twice, and he stands again to sit at the computer. Out of the blue he speaks again. “They’re right.” No no no no no. “I’m lucky, i’m so glad you're here with me and that you won’t leave.”

“I will get out!” The proof of your white hot anger is breaking the dam built in your throat.

“Where will you go? Your friends don’t know where you’ve gone, they won’t be happy with you coming back unannounced.”

“My parents-”

“You can rely on me, you don’t need anyone else.”

“But I-”

“Shhh kitty, you’re overreacting let’s get you to bed, you’ve had a stressful day.” And so he walks you back to the room you share that's covered in pictures, and he tucks you under the covers and dries your tears with a blanket. He whispers words to you, faint little nothings about games he’s going to play that you’ll enjoy watching and little bits of trivia about what “Kuroo” is up to. Eventually you fall asleep, with his hand in your hair and a chair pulled up close so he can stare. You both know it but no one will admit, some part of him will always enjoy how you lose hope so quickly.

--

once again! This should not’ve taken so long,,,, and it kinda deviates from request but! there we are! also,,,, you can’t tell me that like,,,,,,, kenma hasn’t been at least exposed to incels and or like,,,, really sexist guys he streams on twitch or youtube or something so- also thank you anon,,, i really like this one

[mlmdarkfiction]

Gun anon here. First of all, I can't believe you'd call me out like that, how dare you, and second of all, can I request a drabble/fic or smth with Michael Myers and a gun? I know they're not really his M.O. but I love him and I crave it (also: do I need to get specific or anything or can I just say go wild with whatever idea you come up with?)

SOMEHOW THIS ENDED UP THE SAME LENGTH AS LIKE ?? A LOT OF THE COMMISSIONS I DO WHY DID I GO SO HARD AT THIS ONE MICHAEL MYERS FIC. I’m not mad im just...confused @ myself. 

anyway I hope you enjoy

Possible CW’s: NSFW, DMAB Reader, Home Invasion, Guns, Gun Kink, Death (not the readers or Michael’s)

Read on AO3:

Read Below:

It’s a rhythmic banging sound that first got your attention, leading you to the kitchen. It’s the back door.

Someone, or something must have left it hanging open, allowing for the slight breeze from outside to send it gently crashing into your cabinets.

You know for a fact you aren’t responsible for the open door.

Try as you might, you can’t even remember the last time you’d even used the back door, but…

You’re not worried.

Perhaps you’re the only person in all of Haddonfield, who could be unbothered at the prospect of an intruder in your home.

And you’re definitely the only person in Haddonfield hoping the intruder is Michael Myers.

Weird Roommate?

Friend?

Lover?

In reality, you have no idea how you should describe your relationship with The Shape.

Michael is truly an enigma, as most would guess.

Everything he does is unpredictable.

He comes and goes as he pleases, almost never locking or closing doors behind himself, you’re used to it at this point.

And at the end of the day, you know that whether you want him to or not, Michael will always come back.

At least, up until now he’s always found his way back into your home.

You hope that the door being left wide open is a sign that Michael’s finally returned home.

The door is shut, and you’re smiling. Honestly this is a big step for Michael, as it appears he’s not left you a trail of blood to clean up.

Perhaps he was finally learning manners?

Or maybe after so long of being away he simply hadn’t wanted you to yell at him for leaving yet another mess.

There’s no rush in trying to find Michael.

As every other time he’s come to visit, you know he’ll find you when the time is right.

It may not be intentional, although you really think it is, Michael always ends up scaring you.

He thinks it’s funny. Even though you can’t see his face, you know he does. He loves seeing the way you jump at his sudden appearances throughout your shared home.

Nothing about your night changes. You carry on the exact same way you would have if you hadn’t discovered the open door.

After making a bowl of popcorn you settle down on your couch to watch the Countdown to Halloween horror movie marathon on your TV.

About twenty-minutes into some B-Slasher film when you hear it. A crash from upstairs.

Suddenly you feel a lot more on edge.

Michael’s not…

Michael isn’t the type to make much noise at all.

You try to reason with yourself, to tell yourself that it’s just Michael, that he must have dropped something…

But you’re unable to convince yourself.

Stupid Horror Movie.

“Michael?” It’s a soft call at first, and yet...It’s loud enough that the noises you’d been hearing from upstairs come to a complete stop.

The sudden silence does nothing for your already frazzled nerves.

All you hear now is the soft sound of your feet against the carpet as you make your way to the bottom of the stairs.

Looking up you see absolutely nothing. No sudden Michael to assuage your fears.

“This isn’t funny, Michael!”

Even using your angry voice gets you nothing in response, and it causes you to quickly come to terms with the fact that if you want to go back to relaxing, then you’re going to have to investigate the cause of the noise yourself.

The irony of this whole situation isn’t lost on you however, a chill runs down your spine as the poor soon-to-be-dead woman on TV calls out ‘Hello?’ into her own, stranger infested, home.

Everything about this seems like it’s a parody, the stairs even creak underneath you as you make your way up.

Suddenly you’re all too aware of the source of the crash.

Not Michael.

Definitely not Michael.

“You’ve made this easy on me,” Your blood goes completely cold as this stranger turns to you, gun pointed directly at you. Anything you could do or say is completely null. The situation, your body...It all feels frozen.

“Show me where you keep the real valuables.”

Slowly your body begins to unfreeze, and you force yourself to nod in response to the armed intruder.

There’s nothing but the pounding of your heart in your ears as you continue to your bedroom.

As soon as you make your way to the doorway the man grabs you roughly from behind, you can’t help the small scream that leaves your panicked lips at the sudden touch. “Where?”

“Under the bed.”

“Go.” He’s shoving the gun into your lower back, inspiring you to follow his commands, as, even through your shirt, you can feel the guns barrel.

You nod, risking a glance back at your captor.

Your breath hitches but...you relax.

Michael.

For real this time, it’s Michael, standing completely unnoticed domineeringly  behind the armed man.

Even with his mask on as always, you can feel the intensity radiating off of him. The malevolent energy is so strong, you’re surprised the Intruder seems to be completely unaware it’s no longer the two of you.

“I said get the good shit!”

Finally you’re snapped out of your shock and relief, and you nod your head again. Crouching down you put on the facade of retrieving your safe from below the bed.

Michael doesn’t make you wait.

“What the-”

From your position you can’t tell what exactly Michael did, but the crashing of the gun on the ground is a relief, at least until you realize if it had fallen just right it could have easily gone off.

Still you quickly grab the gun with your shaking hands before rising to meet the scene before you.

This is the first time you’ve actually seen Michael in action.

Of course you know who Michael is, and what he does, but seeing it live….

Seeing it live is totally different.

Michael is holding the man in the air by his neck. You’re entranced watching the man's feet dangle uselessly, before pressing into Michael’s chest.

It doesn’t seem to matter how much he struggles or kicks, Michael doesn’t seem fazed at all.

Though you hate to admit it, there's something undeniably hot about Michael holding a struggling man in the air as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. The sight goes straight to your cock.

You’re so aroused-

You’re so entranced by Michael that you have to force your gaze away when it’s clear the struggling man is close to the end of his life.

His face is red, fingers desperately clawing at Michael’s hands as if it would somehow be enough to free him from the crushing grip.

You shut your eyes tightly.

In this moment you’re dangerously aware of everything going on in the room with you; the pounding of your frantic heart isn’t loud enough to block out the last struggles, and gasps of the man, nor do you miss the way it all suddenly stops.

This silence is immediately followed by a thump, the thump of Michael dropping the now dead man onto your bedroom floor.

Michael is…

You don’t know what he’s doing.

You tell yourself you’re not afraid of him, and yet...you find yourself unable to open your eyes.  

The gun has grown warm in your now very nervous, sweaty hands.

With blood rushing in your ears you become hyper aware of your partly adrenaline, but mostly Michael caused boner, and the way that it’s straining painfully against the fabric of your pants.

A large hand, one that’s much larger than your own, develops your hand, the one holding the gun.

Slowly you open your eyes to find yourself face to face, or more accurately, face to chest, with Michael.

You watch Michael as he takes the gun from your grasp.

With his mask still on it’s nearly impossible to tell where Michael is looking, but it really seems like he’s staring at both the gun now in his hands, and at you as you watch him.

“Michael?” His name leaves your lips tentatively. You’re surprised by yourself, surprised by the fact there’s no waiver or tremble of fear noticeable in your voice.

His head tilts in a familiar response at your gentle call of his name, and now you’re sure you’ve gotten the man's full attention.

Briefly your eyes drop from Michael’s masked face to the dead body at your feet, before returning to the other man's covered face.

“Thank you…” After all, if Michael hadn’t intervened, it most likely would have been you dead on the floor.

There’s a hesitation, and then silence envelops you both once again.

Surprisingly, it’s Michael who ends the tension. A simple step forward is all it takes, before he’s pulling you close against his chest into a crushing embrace.

It’s odd.

You welcome the unusual affection, but it’s still odd.

Michael isn’t usually so...soft.

‘Maybe,’ you think, ‘He’d actually been worried.’

The hug is nice, but tight. You’re sure that’s because he’s unused to initiating such subtle affections.

You notice two things while in the hug though;

Michael is also hard, his cock straining the jumpsuit to press against your own while you embrace, and that Michael still has the gun.

It’s not pointed at you, of course, but you can feel it in his hand as he holds you.

Michael doesn’t break the hug.

As soon as you’d felt his erection you knew he likely wouldn’t.

The two of you, you’d done things like this before.

He is, to put it lightly, inexperienced, but he’s always been curious and eager.

Body kept flush against his own, you’re unable to do anything as he grinds his hips into your own as he desperately searches for friction.

A soft moan leaves your lips, and you have to keep from shuddering when you hear Michael give a deep inhale from within his latex mask.

The Shape doesn’t moan. In your experience, he never has, but you’ve learned how to tell Michael is enjoying himself.

You’ve learned to listen out for every deep breath, shuddering exhale, and low growl.

“Here,”

You take a step back, not missing the almost needy way that Michael tries to grip your shoulders in an attempt to keep you close.

“Let me help.”

Only you.

You’re the only person who could strip Michael Myers, and live to tell the tale.

His jumpsuit is easily removed, and no surprise to you, he’s completely bare underneath.

You leave the mask.

In all the time you’ve seen Michael, he’s only been maskless a handful of times, and every time it had been his own choice to remove it.

It’s a boundary.

A symbol of trust.

And no matter your relationship with the other man, you’re not about to overstep it.

Michael’s now completely naked aside from the mask, and his cock is standing at full attention.

It’s a full 7 ½ inches.

You watch as it bobs gently in anticipation as Michael gently adjusts his weight as he becomes used to the cool night air of your bedroom.

Like usual, this level of intimacy with Michael is prefaced by curiosity and need for relief.

It’s Michael’s pleasure that matters. It’s always been like that.

Despite the likeness of your bodies, you’re not sure Michael could pleasure you back, if he even knew how.

He pulls you in again, and you’re quick to fall into routine, dropping to your knees in front of the larger man.

There’s no waiting, no moment to catch your breath, Michael is straight to the point.

His scent quickly fills your senses as he lays his cock against your face.

He humps against it, rubbing the sweaty organ against your cheeks and nose, at one point you stop him as he’s getting dangerously close to thrusting into your eye.

You’re allowed a single deep breath before you take the head of his large cock into your mouth.

Not only is his musk overwhelming, but so is his taste.

Salt.

Sweat.

Skin.

Without thinking you moan wantonly around him, tongue wrapping around the head, licking his slit and the precum that had already started gathering there.

It’s only Michael who could get you to act in such a way.

To get you to act like an eager cock sucking whore, even knowing you’ll get nothing in return.

You’ve trained yourself to take his monster cock.

Or…

You’ve at least trained yourself to take most of it.

A gag still manages to leave your throat when your partner decides he’s had enough and wants more .

All it took was a single hard thrust for him to sheathe is aching member in your willing throat.

One day you think he may accidentally kill you with his cock.

Perhaps he’ll thrust too hard and accidentally puncture your esophagus.

Maybe he’ll just hold you far too tightly, far too close, as your mouth is filled, nose in the curls of his pubes unable to breath as he finishes.

The thought of dying by his cock...it makes your own twitch from it’s confines.

You’re so focused on your goal of taking the full 7 ½ inches in your mouth, that you don’t notice Michael shifting above you.

No, you’re left with no warning of what’s to come.

Metal presses softly to your cheeks, and instantly you freeze.

You begin taking short, panicked breaths of air through your nose, cock still clogging your airway, as you look up to Michael.

He’s just staring, no expression visible through the damned mask, and no real reaction to your stopping or to your very clear fear.

Instead of stopping, or showing any sort of intent, Michael just begins to gently trail the gun lower.

The steel  traces down your jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and eventually rests right under your chin.

You relax, if only slightly, knowing Michael won’t shoot with his dick in your mouth.

He’s been shot enough times now to know it hurts, and would likely know better than to shoot his own dick off.

However, this relief is short lived.

Once again Michael begins to move the gun away from your chin, down, and further down again, until at last it’s being pressed against the obvious tent in your pants.

There’s no way to keep in a moan at the feeling of something, anything, even a gun, touching your poor aching dick.

Any thoughts you had about what exactly Michael’s planning to do quickly leave your head as Michael gives a quick and sudden thrust.

It has you choking again.

Tears, snot, and drool leave you at the sudden extra strain.

You work faster on Michael’s cock, bobbing your head just right, moaning for the extra stimulation, all while the other man continues to prod your own member with a fucking gun.

You try to avoid thinking about the fear, and the arousal , this new addition to your routine is causing.

No, instead of thinking about that, and what it means about you as a person, you decide instead to focus on Michael.

All you’re thinking about is him, his cock, and how to make him cum.

It isn’t long until your efforts are rewarded, after all, despite his above average endowment, he’s never lasted very long.

Still,he seems to lose his load much faster than he usually does.

In an almost mockery of your earlier fantasy, your nose is forced into Michael’s unkempt pelvis, as your mouth, throat, and stomach are filled with his bitter cum.

The longer you go without air, hardly able to breathe even through your nose like this, the more you fear every part of your earlier fantasy is going to be fulfilled.

But…

Michael has mercy.

Once he’s finally beginning to soften up, he pulls himself entirely from your mouth.

For the moment you’ve forgotten the gun, now much more focused on your aching jaw, and swollen red lips.

Michael reminds you quickly though.

In your kneeling position, Michael has no trouble pushing you onto your back, especially now that you’re exhausted, unable to fight him.

All you can do against him is look up with confusion.

“Michael, what-”

You weren’t really expecting a response.

Of course the response you get isn’t verbal, no, Michael responds to your inquiries in a physical manner.

All you can do is moan in mixed pain and pleasure as he once again presses the gun against your erection, however this time...he’s much rougher than he’d been before.

It feels almost as if he’s trying to crush your cock.  

Still it seems that for the first time your relationship with The Shape had become sexual, that he decided you were finally allowed to cum too.

He keeps you like that-

Splayed out on the floor in front of him, legs spread, all while you moan and write for him as he roughly outlines your cock with the tip of the gun.

He doesn’t stop.

Not until you cum.

And when it finally happens, when you finally cum, you’re filled with a mix of relief and humiliation.

Relief that Michael had finally moved the gun away, not just from your genitals, but from you entirely.

Humiliation at the fact you’d cum without a real human touch.

Humiliation at just how hard you’d cum due to going without for so long...and the mess you’d eventually have to clean out of your underwear.

Although you can’t see his face, you can feel the smug aura radiating off of Michael.

He’s clearly proud of what he’s done today, and you have a feeling he’s not going to let you forget this exact encounter any time soon.

[tickleraptorss]

Monsters in Tephra Cave

shulkreyn is gonna be the death of me i love these boys so much i just HAD to write smth fluffy for them,,, takes place after reyn nd shulk leave colony 9.

im gonna write more xenoblade stuff bc Big Fixation (i dont even know the full plot lol i’m waiting to play it w @fluff-nd-stuff who dragged me into xenoblade hell thanks liz) mayb some au? post-game bc im assuming everything goes back to normal maybe? pre-game? who fuckin knows! anyways, enjoy!

“We should be fine here,” Shulk said, sitting down next to a small pool of water. Tephra Cave wasn’t the safest place to be spending the night in, but both Shulk and Reyn felt themselves growing tired and decided to find some place to try to get some sleep. The plan was simple - set up a small fire, and one person would keep watch while the other slept.

“I can keep watch first,” Shulk offered as they finished setting up the fire. He had a lot to think about, yet not much time to think about it. The Mechon attack, Fiora... it was a lot to take in. He figured he needed to collect his thoughts.

“Nah, you really need some shut-eye, man,” Reyn said. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. I’ll keep watch.”

“Reyn, you also look tired! You need to sleep more than I do.”

Reyn pouted at Shulk and crossed him arms. “I’m keepin’ watch.”

“No, I am!”

“No! I’ll do it!”

They kept going back and forth like this for another minute, arguing like little kids. Until...

“I’m keepin’ watch, and that’s final!” Reyn claimed, poking Shulk’s side as a playful gesture. He wasn’t expecting the squeak that came from Shulk. The visionary shifted slightly away from Reyn, which caused him to quirk an eyebrow.

“What was that?” Reyn asked. “Wait, are you hurt?! Aw man, did I hit a bruise by accident-“

“No, Reyn, I-I’m fine!” Shulk quickly stammered in order to calm Reyn. “I’m just a bit... sensitive- I mean... you surprised me, is all.” Shulk tried to switch his excuse quickly, as if suddenly realizing the chaos that would ensue if his friend found out about his, well, secret.

“Sensitive?” Reyn questioned. “Wait a minute... don’t tell me you’re still-“

“I’m not!”

Reyn smirked, and glint of mischeif in his eyes. He slowly crawled towards Shulk as his friend froze in place, not quite sure what to do. In spite of himself, Shulk blushed.

“You’re still ticklish,” Reyn chuckled, pinning Shulk down to the ground. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Because I knew what would happen if I did!” Shulk squirmed, trying to free himself, but he knew it was useless. Reyn was much stronger than him.

“You should’ve known I would find out eventually~” Reyn grinned, wiggling his fingers above Shulk. His friend squeaked and starting thrashing, even though Reyn hadn’t done anything yet. “I’m not even touching you, man!”

“I know, I knohohow!” Shulk giggled, screwing his eyes shut and forcing himself not to look at Reyn’s fingers, which were slowly approaching his ribs. The visionary just kept giggling in anticipation, however, and when he felt his friend’s fingers squeezing his sides, he squealed.

“Jeez, I think you’ve gotten more ticklish since you were a kid!” Reyn teased, spidering his fingers up and down Shulk’s sides as his friend squirmed and laughed. Reyn chuckled in spite of himself.

“Eep!- Nohoho, Reyn!” Shulk squeaked, trying to wiggle his way free. Oh, he was so getting Reyn back for this.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Stohohop it!!”

“Stop what? I’m not doin’ anything!”

“Yes you are!”

“What? What am I doing?”

“Y-You’re - ack! You’re t-tihihickling me!!”

“I’m ticklin’ you?” Reyn laughed when Shulk nodded frantically. “Well, I don’t see why I should stop, you look like you’re having a lotta fun!” Reyn moved his fingers to Shulk’s ribs, scriblling and scratching over the sensitive area. At this point, Reyn had let go of Shulk’s wrists in order to tickle him with both hands, knowing his friend would try to curl up and block his hands rather than tickle him back.

“You’re way too ticklish for your own good, aren’t ya?” Reyn teased, smirking when he noticed Shulk blushing. 

“I-I’m nohohot!” Shulk argued, shoving at Reyn’s chest in a poor attempt to push the redhead off of him. His face flushed a bright red as he laughed freely, slowly feeling some of the tension leaving his body. 

“Yeah, you are! You can’t even sit still during a massage!” Reyn giggled before pausing his ministrations to let the visionary beneath him catch his breath. He gave Shulk a playful smirk. “I wonder if you’ve still got the same tickle spots, too...”

Oh no. 

Shulk’s eyes widened as he saw Reyn’s hands slowly drift towards his stomach, feeling his face flush even brighter than before. And you thought it couldn’t get any worse... Shulk cursed himself internally. 

Reyn had always loved to tease Shulk like this when they were kids. He and Fiora would often team up to tickle Shulk until he was a giggling mess on the floor. Reyn and Fiora were skilled with these attacks, and the blonde visionary discovered that Reyn’s technique hasn’t faded away, much to his dismay. 

“No! No, Reyn! Don’t you dare!” Shulk panicked. He could’ve sworn he felt his face melting. This was it, this was the end for him. The Mechon wouldn’t even get a chance to kill him. This was how he was going to die.

Death by tickles. What a way to go.

Shulk couldn’t even finish his thought when he felt rough fingers spidering across his bare stomach. He hadn’t even noticed that Reyn had lifted his shirt up. Gods, this was so embarrassing. Shulk only had a few seconds to register the sensation before laughter poured out of his mouth, loud and breathy, and full of squeaks. Just like when he was a kid. 

“There’s those squeaks I was looking for!” Reyn laughed along with Shulk, who was just hiding his face behind his hands. 

“NOHOHOHO!! R-REYN!!” Shulk squealed, squirming twice as hard as he was before. “WH-WHAHAHAT IF MONSTERS HEHEAR US?!”

“There aren’t any monsters ‘round here, I checked!” Reyn confirmed, just to make sure his friend felt a bit safer. “The only monster you’ve gotta worry about is...”

Don’t say it.

“The tickle monster!~”

Shulk’s laughter seemed to double in squeakiness as he became more flustered. He thought he’d grow out of being flustered by silly little things like this. Boy, was he wrong.

Reyn recognized that Shulk was growing tired, so he slowed his fingers to just tracing along Shulk’s belly, drawing random shapes. The blonde giggled lightly, still opting to cover his face with his hands rather than protect himself, which Reyn thought was a bit odd. 

“You enjoyin’ yourself there?” Reyn chuckled when Shulk seemed to squeak in response. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you go.” The redhead rolled off of his friend, watching him catch his breath and let out small giggles from the aftershock. 

The two lay there for a few minutes, with Reyn gazing at Shulk’s flushed face. Whenever he giggled his shoulders would scrunch up and his nose would crinkle adorably, and occasionally a squeak would slip, as if Reyn was still tickling him. Seeing Shulk smile again made Reyn’s stomach flip as he felt his own face heat up. 

Bionis, he’s adorable, isn’t he? 

“Th-thanks,” Shulk muttered, catching Reyn off guard. 

“Huh? “Thanks for, uh, doing that,” Shulk stammered. “It was... f-fun...”

Reyn smiled sweetly as Shulk let out a nervous giggle. “Oh, so ya want me to tickle you more often?” Reyn teased, then realizing that... well, that was exactly what Shulk wanted. The visionary slowly nodded.

“I-I hope it’s not weird-”

“It’s not weird!” Reyn immediately interjected. “It’s not weird at all. It makes you happy and... it’s kinda cute how you like it.” Shit, he just said that out loud didn’t he? Fuck. Now it was Reyn’s turn to be flustered (even if Shulk was even more flushed by the compliment).

“You should sleep now, I’ll keep watch.” Reyn gestured for Shulk to rest. “Or you’re gonna deal with the tickle monster again,” he threatened when the blonde opened his mouth to protest.

As Shulk leaned himself against one of the stone pillars nearby, Reyn couldn’t help but admire how Shulk looked a bit more at peace now. Shulk didn’t laugh often, but Reyn loved his friend’s laugh. Perhaps a bit too much. He’d missed it more than he had realized. 

He’s gonna be the death of me... Reyn thought.