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thelavendersquid · 1 year ago

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Nine Eyes to Feel With

Tickletober Day 5: "I'm not ticklish"

Summary: Lucien hears laughter echoing through the caverns and goes to investigate. The Nein weren't planning on springing a ticklish ambush today, but they're certainly not about to turn down the opportunity when it shows up on their doorstep.

Or, local all-seeing tiefling finds himself more ticklish than he expected.

Set right after Weak Spots

Fandom: Critical Role (The Mighty Nein)

Words: 2.7K

AO3 Link

A/N: This idea lodged itself in my brain as soon as I finished yesterday’s fic and would not leave until I brought it to life. I have a lot of feelings about Lucien, including the firm opinion that he is just as deathly ticklish as we all know Molly was. So here we are.

~~~~

The sound of laughter echoing through the caverns is not something Lucien hears often on his trips to Aeor. His head jerks up as he hears it and he turns to Cree, sitting across from him, with a frown. She looks off into the distance, Tabaxi ears twitching as she processes the sound, then back up at Lucien. “It’s not far away.”

Lucien pushes himself up, pulling out a scimitar as he does so. He hesitates a moment, debating internally whether this is a trap, and then glances over at Cree again. “Be on your guard.” Cree gives a nod and follows after him down the tunnel.

A few short minutes later, Lucien’s eyes - all of them - fall on the source of the sound. The opaque, grayish-colored dome that signals the temporary home of The Mighty Nein. And coming from within, the sound of hysterical laughter. Ah. But of course.

Cree hangs back as Lucien approaches the dome. His eyes flash as he attempts to see inside, but he can only make out a few moving shapes. They seem to all be piled on top of one of the shapes, which looks like it’s…wiggling?

Lucien takes a step back and tilts his head at the dome, observing it with silent confusion. The laughter is still coming through - occasionally it becomes stifled or muffled, only for another peal of unrestrained laughter to break through seconds later. This is very strange, even for this group of adventurers.

“What is it?” Cree whispers from behind him.

Lucien takes another step back towards her, but his eyes never leave the dome. “I’m not exactly sure.” He backs away until he reaches a rock off to the side, and sits down. Finally he tears his gaze away just long enough to give a quick glance in Cree’s direction. “Get some rest. We’ll be staying here for now.”

Cree makes her way over towards the rock and sits down on the ground. Lucien’s focus snaps right back to the dome and his head tilts the other direction as he stares at it, confused and yet transfixed.

It’s only a minute or so later that the laughter stops. Lucien blinks and sits back, crossing his arms and still staring at the dome.

There’s a sudden shuffling from inside the dome as, Lucien assumes, its occupants realize he’s sitting there staring at them. A long minute goes by. Lucien can hear whispers from inside - along with muffled giggles that seem to still be trailing off. He tilts his head again, picking at his nails.

A head pops through the dome, followed quickly by several others. And then there they are - all seven of The Mighty Nein stepping out of the dome in front of him. He raises his eyebrows at them, still cleaning dirt out from under his nails.

The group looks like they’re preparing for a fight, putting hands on weapons and generally looking antsy. Lucien supposes he’d better smooth things over. That’s not what he came here for, not tonight at least. He stands up nonchalantly and holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Ah-ah-ah, no need for all that. I was merely confused by the sound of laughter coming from within these tunnels. I tracked you all the way from another cavern - you were being quite loud. You’re lucky it was us who heard you and not any number of other creatures.”

To Lucien’s surprise, a few of the group actually break into grins at this. Jester, who is grinning brightly, says, “Oh, we were just tickling Essek!” She gestures over her shoulder - and ah, there’s the honorary eighth member of the group, that drow elf. Lucien had almost forgotten they brought him along.

The elf - Essek - is a lovely shade of magenta and looks mortified, even as he is currently bent over, coughing, and seems to be stifling…is that more laughter? Lucien tilts his head again as a hint of a smirk twists onto his own face.

“I see. Well, lovely to know the path you all are on, I wouldn’t want to run into any more nasty traps you’ve so rudely set for us. Although if you keep on at this volume, it doesn’t seem like we’ll need to worry about that.” He catches Essek’s eye and flashes him a smirk - it works wonders at making the elf look like he’d rather the ground swallow him here and now. The grins begin to fade from the others’ faces too.

Lucien reaches his hands above his head lazily, arching his back and stretching. “We’ll be on our way then. See you soon.” He flashes them another wicked smile and turns away, back towards the tunnel.

A voice cuts him off. Beauregard, suddenly emboldened, steps forward. “Are you ticklish, Lucien?”

Lucien stops in place. He turns slowly back to face them and meets the monk’s gaze. She’s staring him, something determined in her eyes. Lucien raises his eyebrows again.

“I’m afraid not. No trace of that in my blood.”

“Are you sure?” Beauregard presses forward, taking another step closer.

“Aye, quite sure.” Lucien gives a shrug and holds his arms out to the sides. “Go on, give it a try, far be it from me to deprive you of satisfying your curiosity.”

Beauregard steps forward. Behind her, Caleb, Essek, Fjord and Caduceus look worried. “Beau, wait, it’s probably a trap-“

Beau ignores them and walks confidently up to Lucien. He stares at her, calm as can be. Beau studies him for a moment. Then, never breaking eye contact, she reaches out, latches onto his side, and gives it a squeeze.

And Lucien doesn’t catch himself fast enough to stop the involuntary jump away from the sensation he did not expect.

Beau’s eyebrow twitches up. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Lucien says, voice carefully smooth. “Your hands are cold.”

“We’re in an ice cavern.” Beau’s tone is blunt. Her hand is still on his side. She squeezes it again.

Lucien jumps again. He quickly grabs Beau’s hand and pushes it away. He looks rattled for the first time since the group has met him. A wicked grin slides onto Beau’s face.

Lucien takes a careful breath, composing himself. Okay, so that felt strange. But it’s nothing he can’t handle. Back away, say something intimidating, walk off head held high, never deal with it again-AH!

Lucien jumps almost a foot and spins around, indignantly - to find Jester, grinning, from where she snuck around behind him. And apparently stuck her claws under his coat to poke his ribs.

This is not going well.

There’s a tense pause as Lucien stares at the group and they stare back at him. Grins matching Jester and Beau’s are growing on the others’ faces. One of Lucien’s eyes slides over to glance at Cree - who is watching this from afar with a hand over her mouth, clearly smiling. Lucien starts to say something to her. He’s interrupted before he gets very far.

As Jester, Beauregard, and Veth all spring towards him as one.

Lucien dodges sideways and throws his hands out to block them. He manages to deflect Jester, but Beauregard has deadly aim and Veth slips right underneath his arms. Their fingers slide underneath his coat and find purchase on his sides and stomach, squeezing, wiggling, poking. A startled laugh slips out of Lucien as he stumbles backwards.

Fjord, Caleb and Essek exchange a horrified glance behind the others. Caduceus chuckles and steps forward - just as Beau call over her shoulder, “Yasha! Come help me hold him babe, he’s a squirmy one!”

Squirmy is an understatement for what Lucien is currently doing. He’s flailing around like a cat being given a bath, limbs everywhere, fingernails raking down any patch of skin he can manage to reach, tail whipping behind him like a baton, practically hissing. And fighting a desperate - losing - battle to keep the laughter that’s bubbling up his throat at bay.

Yasha pushes forward to join the others in the fray. Lucien hisses at her arrival and reaches frantically behind him - whether to grab for her or for his sword, Yasha can’t tell. She doesn’t give him a chance - as Beau grabs his arm to keep him from successfully reaching her, Yasha grabs him firmly around the midsection and holds on tight - sending her fingers crawling up to scratch just below his armpits, right in the spot she knows used to make Molly howl.

It has a similar effect. Lucien yells out and throws himself forward - but is stopped by both Yasha’s arms and Beauregard and Jester in front of him. Instead he opts to curl up as tight as he can, trying to block their access - as the laughter finally pours out of him. It starts off scratchy, rusty from disuse, but warms up quick as Yasha’s fingers keep wiggling in that stupid fucking spot - until he’s laughing too hard for words in a way that is all too familiar to the Nein.

Cree can’t hold back her own laughter at the sight. This is the best thing she’s seen in months.

Fjord glances over at Caleb again. “Well shit, I guess we’re doing this.”

“We have a death wish,” Caleb agrees. But there’s a hint of a grin on his face and he steps forward all the same. Fjord and Caduceus follow.

Lucien’s struggle to get away renews with great force as Fjord, Caleb and Caduceus descend towards him. He flails again, beating against Yasha with his tail and lashing out with his claws towards Jester, Veth and the approaching trio. To no avail, as they hold him tight. Instead he resorts to death threats, spitting out, “I will kill you! Don’t test me!” It’s not particularly menacing through his laughter.

Jester laughs along. “You were already going to kill us! I’m not stopping just because of that!”

Veth, currently squeezing at his knees, laughs too. “How’s that anti-magic cone working for you now? I bet you’re wishing for an anti-fingers cone!”

Lucien is going to kill her first. As soon as he manages to stop laughing.

Caleb and Fjord have slid their way into the little group surrounding Lucien by this point, and their fingers make contact with his sides and stomach - as Caduceus reaches in between Yasha to pinch up and down his back. Lucien is lost in laughter again. He arches away from Caduceus’ desperately - only to bring himself closer to everyone else, which makes him flail wildly without any plan. He hisses at them through his laughter - which only serves to make everyone laugh at him again.

Jester grabs his tail as it goes whipping past her. She giggles and signals for the others to slow their assault a bit. Which they do, allowing Lucien a moment to pant for breath - but careful to still keep their fingers twitching enough to prevent him recollecting his strength and shoving them off. Jester holds up Lucien’s tail where he can see it. “Hey Lucien, check this out!” She brings her claws down onto his tail, right where the tip connects, and scratches.

Lucien shrieks, there’s no other word that could be used for the sound that leaves his mouth. Every sense he possesses is on overload. There’s nothing but a swirling of colors behind his eyes - all of them. He can’t see, he can’t hear, he can’t feel anything except that torturous feeling on his tail that he needs to stop right now. His arms flail and reach desperately for Jester, trying to grab something, anything to make her stop that scratching. He pitches forward with such force that he slips right out of the hold Beau and Yasha have on him and heads straight for the ground.

Jester, unfortunately, expected this reaction and maintains her grip on his tail as she eagerly follows him to the ground. Lucien resigns himself to his fate and to the sea of mirth that has swallowed him. He’s laughing too hard to even think coherently anymore. He can barely register Jester laughing along with him - and behind her, the rest of the group appears to be laughing at him again.

“Bad spot?” Fjord calls after him. He glances over, grinning, at Cree - who is openly laughing at this sight too, though she looks horrified at the same time.

Jester is giggling. “Wow, Lucien, looks like you are ticklish after all! Did you lie to us?” Lucien does not respond, still thrashing side to side and trying to yank his tail out of her hands even as he’s lost in laughter.

Jester slowly eases off his tail, letting him pull it away. She grins down at him. “Or did you not know?”

There’s no response of course. Instead, Lucien curls up in a ball on the ground. It takes him a beat to realize the tickling has stopped - and no one is holding onto him anymore. They’re all just staring at him on the ground.

Lucien launches himself to his feet, and for a split-second the little group sees their life flash before their eyes as he spins towards them. But as Lucien lunges forward, he realizes in horror that all that laughter has done something to him - he can’t quite coordinate his limbs, he’s been weakened. And before he can react to counter-balance…he stumbles forward and lands back on the marble floor.

Beauregard, laughing, is on him in a flash, pinning him down. She looks over at Jester. “Of course he didn’t know, he thought he didn’t have a single weakness. Too bad he’s ticklish as fuck and��we know all his worst spots.” She punctuates this with a sudden scribbling of fingers under Lucien’s arms, making him yell out - and to his dismay, he’s laughing again.

“You could have told me!” Lucien yells from underneath Beau’s nimble fingers. “What happened to telling people things you know about them!”

Beau glances down in surprise, even as Veth - who has appeared next to them to re-join the attack - says, with a smirk, “So much more fun to show you though.” Beau tilts her head, watching Lucien as he dissolves back into laughter. There was something almost playful in his tone just then - and now, as she watches, there’s something she can just catch in his eyes and the grin that splits his face that looks almost…genuine. No longer as forced. In fact, he almost seems to be leaning into the touch instead of fighting to get away. Beau blinks in surprise. That’s unexpected.

Beau backs off slightly, fingers slowing as she pulls back into a seated position. Lucien’s eyes meet hers for a split second. There’s a pause, just for a beat. And just like that, whatever she saw is gone. Lucien is back to flailing around like an angry cat, hissing and spitting and thrashing and desperate to get away. He’s shoved whatever that was away.

Interesting. Beau will file that away for later. For now, she turns and gestures to the others. And the little group goes back to extracting every bit of laughter they can manage to get out of the flailing purple tiefling - very aware this will be their only chance to do anything remotely like this ever again.

It’s only a minute or so later that Lucien finally manages to coordinate his limbs enough to wrestle himself out from underneath them again. This time he’s prepared - he yanks his scimitars out, draws himself up to his full height, and stares them down.

No one follows him this time. They hold their hands up in peace - still grinning at him. Lucien gives them all a ferocious scowl, shoves the scimitars back away, and draws his coat around him without a word - looking for all the world like a disgruntled cat. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Instead he gives them another glare, spins on his heel, and stalks off down the tunnel without a word.

Cree stands up to follow after him. She gives a glance over to the Nein, a mixture of horrified and very, very amused. They flash her bright grins in return. Cree looks away quickly and follows Lucien down the tunnel.

A moment later, Lucien’s ice-cold voice comes from down the tunnel - “What are you grinning about?!”

There’s Cree’s purring voice in return - too soft for the group to make out what she said, but with a teasing enough tone for them to have a pretty good idea. Lucien is silent.

The Nein catch each other’s eyes and burst out laughing.

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sapphicquill · 2 years ago

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Critickle Role: spin me right 'round, baby (chapter 1/2)

(ao3 link!)

Rating: Teen

Characters: Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caleb Widogast, the Mighty Nein (Veth and Cad are there, just not by name!)

Wordcount: 2149

Nothing the Mighty Nein ever did made terribly much sense to Essek—at least not right away. The group had a habit of putting their own unexpected twist on just about everything they did, no matter how mundane. Considering Essek had only recently emerged from “the sheltered kid-from-a-strict-religious-family cave” (Veth’s words, not his) he didn’t really have much “real life experience” to lean on, so the group’s antics were a relatively moot point anyway.

But Essek was about ninety-five percent sure that Spin the Bottle was supposed to involve kissing, and the glaring lack of any was a bit confusing.

Essek relied on a lifetime of maintaining a completely neutral expression at all times to keep from staring bewildered at the screeching puddle of tiefling that was the current focus of the loose circle of friends. Mollymauk, sprawled out flat on his back underneath Jester, was writhing and wriggling as the young woman mercilessly drilled her claws into her victim’s sides. A lavender tail lashed wildly, the only part of Mollymauk in that moment that still had a full range of motion.

From beside the pair, Caleb cleared his throat.

“That is time, Jester. Let my boyfriend breathe, please.”

Instantly, the blue tiefling sprung off of Mollymauk, though not without groaning theatrically and turning to the human, her own tail wavering behind her in a way that reminded Essek of Frumpkin before the cat pounced on someone.

“Caaay-leb, come ooon , that wasn’t two minutes!”

“Ja, it was exactly two minutes, just like it always is.”

“You’re just whiney because you can never make Molly safeword out, Jes,” Fjord pointed out from his spot across the floor. Jester let out a frustrated noise as she crawled back over to her unoccupied spot in the circle next to her own boyfriend.

“I totally have before, I just want to do it again!”

“Try harder next time, darling,” Mollymauk said, voice coming out a little wheezy as he sat back up and grinned over at their host for the evening.

- - -

Essek was, admittedly, getting better at keeping up with the Mighty Nein. With all of them being so genuine and good all the time (and the somewhat inconvenient, very large crush he was harboring on Caleb and Mollymauk), it was hard to resist the siren call of their unspoken offers of friendship and connection. The longer Essek spent around the collective chaos of the Nein, the easier it was to just shrug and go with whatever happened, regardless of how preposterous Essek found it.

When Caleb had offhandedly invited him to attend the monthly Jester-mandated party/sleepover (a tradition that long predated Essek’s own knowledge of the group), he had accepted without even thinking about it. His nerves over being in such close, extended proximity to Mollymauk and Caleb were easy enough to tamp down, he hadn’t even gotten close to having a proper panic attack over it. He hadn’t even flinched when Jester’s mutt of a dog nearly knocked him on his ass when he cleared the doorway of her and Fjord’s apartment.

When Jester had lowered the music and excitedly announced it was time for Spin the Bottle, Essek had taken pause, eyes darting to where Caleb and Mollymauk began untangling themselves to get up from the small overstuffed sofa, laughing and whispering to one another between quick kisses. All the same, after a half-second of hesitation, he took a seat on the floor next to Yasha, who was providing rather aggressive scritches to Nugget while Beau not-so-subtly fed the dog little bits of pepperoni, and resolutely ignored the hammering of his heart.

Jester’s version of Spin the Bottle had, apparently, been a tradition for almost as long as they’d been having these gatherings. At least, that’s what Essek had gleaned from Beau’s exaggerated complaints about how unnecessary having the rules explained again was. Jester’s eyes had met Essek’s from across the circle, alight with mischief, before she continued: either say the safeword—“licorice,” for some reason—or last the full two minutes. Before Essek could ask what, in particular, might necessitate a safeword for a kissing game, Jester had leaned forward to grab the bottle in the middle of their circle.

Honestly, Essek should have been less surprised then he was when Jester’s hearty spin of the empty spirits bottle resulted in the young woman tackling Mollymauk and unleashing a rather brutal tickle attack. One of the first things Essek had accepted as “Nein-normal” was the group’s extremely comfortable relationship with tickling. Caleb had tried to fill in the gaps as much as he could—it had, of course, started with the tieflings (“Look, of all the stereotypes, this one’s probably the sweetest and most accurate,” Molly had said) and had spread from there. It was to be expected, if one spent even five minutes with some configuration of their friend group, that some sort of tickling would occur.

Essek had seen Fjord tweak Jester’s sides as he passed her by; had seen Yasha loop her arms around Molly’s waist and hold him still while Veth unleashed revenge for whatever antics the tattooed tiefling had gotten up to; had seen the soft, sweet, surprisingly gentle tickling that Jester was fond of showering on Caleb. Essek had witnessed quite a lot.

He’d never participated, though.

- - -

“Careful, you know she’ll take that seriously,” Beau said, rubbing Nugget’s head roughly enough for Essek to realize she was probably wiping off excess pizza oil on the dog.

“I’m hoping for it,” Molly shot back, already half-crawling closer to the middle of the circle. With practiced ease, he sent the bottle into rapid circles, watching intently as they began to slow. Essek glanced at Caleb out of habit—it was he who Essek had gravitated toward first, and then whenever he felt out of his depth around the rest of the Nein—and felt his heart stutter against his chest as crystal blue eyes met his own. A small, comforting smile graced Caleb’s lips, the one that always made Essek feel a bit like there were several tiny birds swooping around in his stomach, before the group around them gave a collective, nearly comedic gasp. Essek watched Caleb’s brow furrow slightly, his eyes dropping down to look at the center of the circle before darting back to Essek’s face. His expression was… strangely unreadable.

Finally looking away from Caleb, Essek felt another swoop in his gut as he took in the scene before him: the others staring at him, Molly’s grin turning nearly feral, and the empty bottle’s neck pointing squarely at him.

It felt a bit like time had paused, without the sharp ozone of recently-cast dunamis.

“Ah, Mollymauk—”

Caleb’s voice was soft, his expression still impossible for Essek to parse, as he curled a hand over one of Molly’s shoulders. His boyfriend turned to face him instantly, and Essek felt quietly relieved that the two’s attention was off of him, if only temporarily.

“Essek’s new to this, ja? So be—” Caleb paused, seemingly searching for the right word.

“Gentle?” Yasha offered quietly from beside Essek, and if his mouth wasn’t suddenly so dry, he thought he might thank the woman.

“Of course, darling,” Molly replied seemingly to the both of them, his voice much sweeter than Essek had anticipated. The tiefling turned, and Essek tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart as Molly crawled the rest of the way across their circle of friends. On his knees, Mollymauk was practically towering over Essek’s seated form. Essek expected that same devious grin from earlier to still be settled on his face, but was surprised again to see a much friendlier, kinder smile curling at his lips.

It was the same smile Molly wore when he and Caleb got lost in discussing complex arcane theory, or when Essek admitted to not understanding some turn of phrase someone had thrown out.

The flock of birds in his gut doubled.

“Remember the rules, dear?”

When had Molly gotten so close? Essek licked his lips, eyes glued to the two sets of claws hovering mere inches from his torso.

“Ah, say ‘licorice’ to tap out…”

“Or last the full two minutes that Caleb counts out,” Molly finished for him, leaning ever so much closer into Essek’s space.

“Right. Yes. Two minutes.”

The last time he’d been tickled he’d been a child, Verin pouncing on him after declaring he was being a stick in the mud and unleashing an attack that had left Essek in blubbering hysterics.

“Ready?” The question seems mocking, but the look in Molly’s eyes is shockingly genuine and Essek didn’t know if he wanted to run or to kiss him.

“As, um, as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

The air in the room was still and silent, even Nugget stopping his tail whacking down on the carpet as everyone seemingly held their breath.

Essek squeezed his eyes shut tightly, bracing for kneading fingers as Molly descended even further. Nervous energy danced like lightning down Essek’s back.

Then there were two light claw tips, slowly skating down from the tops of Essek’s ribs on either side, and he felt his breath hitch without permission. The light, pinpoint sensations felt a little like pure electricity shooting into his nerves and he started gasping out giggles without even realizing it. It didn’t even tickle that badly—between the anticipation and the fact that it was Mollymauk doing it, Essek felt a bit like he was going insane from the lightest touches.

He didn’t say anything, though, much less “licorice.” Molly was being so gentle. He could last through this for two minutes.

Then, the claws reached his hips, and suddenly they were moving much faster and in circles and Essek couldn’t have ever hoped to stifle the surprised laughter that punched out of him. His eyes flew open at the shock of sensation, and the look on Molly’s face made his stomach do a backflip. The tiefling’s eyes glimmered with delight and the kind of affection Essek had only ever seen directed at a certain human wizard. Impossibly, the tickling felt ten times as intense.

Molly kept valiantly on at Essek’s hips, alternating between skittering spirals and random patterns that Essek couldn’t make sense of. While the majority of his conscious thought consisted of white noise, a tiny section of his mind quietly pondered how different this would be if the rest of the Nein weren’t there—if it was just him and Molly and Caleb sprawled out on the ridiculously opulent bed he knew the two had in their apartment. Maybe there wouldn’t be a countdown at all, just Essek getting slowly driven to pleasant delirium by the two men who had captured his attention and his heart.

How in the name of the Luxon had it not been two minutes yet?

A sudden third spot of ticklish sensation lit Essek’s nerves like a string of firecrackers. He didn’t even have to open his eyes (though he severely doubted he would even be capable of that at the moment) to know that a lavender tail’s spade tip was dragging ever-so-lightly back and forth cross Essek’s right inner thigh. That, combined with the attack still concentrated on his hips, nearly had him screaming.

Just as it felt like he might pass out from lack of air, someone spoke up from elsewhere in the circle.

“Scheiße, that was two minutes and, er, roughly forty-five seconds, sorry, sorry.”

Instantly, Molly let up, his tickling ending so abruptly that Essek almost felt dizzy. Phantom tingles of sensation raced across his skin and his laughter dropped into breathless giggles once more. If not for the near lifetime of practice in self-restraint, he would have let out an aggrieved whine and a soft plea for more. A delightful haze of dazed happiness had descended without Essek even noticing .

“Wow, Essek, that was like, super impressive for your first time playing!”

Jester’s chirping voice popped the joyful bubble encasing Essek’s mind in an instant, and instinctual chilled terror shot down his spine at the reminder that the rest of the Nein had seen that entire ordeal play out in front of them. He sat bolt upright, vision hazy and unseeing.

“Ah, ex—” Essek started, a shivering ghost of a laugh rudely interrupting. “Excuse me, I, hah, need to, uh—”

Without even finishing his sentence, Essek stood and hurried from the crowded living room. A chorus of voices sounded behind him, but he didn’t stop. The apartment’s tiny guest bathroom offered a safe place for him to sink to the ground and press his face into his hands, breath slowing even as his heart thrummed rapidly in his chest.

Even with embarrassment and mild panic coursing through him, Essek’s mind could only conjure the image of Caleb and Mollymauk looming over him with warmth and mischief and affection in their eyes.

Fuck.

#tk fic #tk fic community #tickle fic #critickle role fic #critickle role #cr tk fic #lee essek #switch mollymauk #modern with dnd elements au #established widomauk #developing shadowidomauk #sapphicquillfics

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wordstrings · 2 years ago

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Understanding Harmony

Critical Role: Bell’s Hells. Ashton and Imogen take a watch after the events of episodes 33–38. Written for @feather-aesthetic for the Squealing Santa 2k22 fic exchange. Prompt: playful/bonding situations. Words: 1,500

—

“I just…” Imogen’s voice hitches with a tiny, incredulous laugh that lilts and wilts into something almost sad. “Just can’t believe she’s back.”

Ashton stares into the fire for another moment before dropping their eyes to the twig they’ve been fiddling with between their knees.

“Crazy, huh?” they say, for lack of anything more intelligent to add.

Imogen twists her fingers into a loose fold of her skirt. The fabric tightens across her hands, a smart pair to the tension still visibly lingering in her body.

“It’s not supposed to happen. Bringin’ someone back from the dead. Though, I guess, for Laudna… maybe it’s not so strange. I don’t know.”

“No, it’s weird,” Ashton assures her. The nubby end of one toothpick-thin branch snaps under their thumb. They roll the broken bit between their fingers. The tiny splintered end is sharp.

“I never… never would’ve thought I’d see somethin’ like that. That I’d be part of that. Y’know? Heck, I just thought I’d be spending the rest of my life staring at fields and feeling alone. It’s just… a lot,” she finishes quietly.

“Being alone isn’t so bad.” Saying it is almost habit. It’s true enough.

The firelight catches in the glance Imogen darts their way. “Feeling alone, though. It’s different when you don’t really have a choice.”

Ashton shrugs. “Not much different, in my experience.”

There’s a gentle scoff in Imogen’s voice when she says, “Then why’re you stickin’ around with us, huh?”

“Because Letters needs people.” It’s just as quick to surface, just as habitual.

“But you don’t.”

Ashton knows a jab, even in the dark. The retort is already in their throat, clambering on the back of their tongue. But they swallow it, because Imogen isn’t coming after them, not really. They don’t have a ready-made alternative response, though, so they focus on the splintered nub, trying to crush it between their fingertips. It’s too small and just digs in, a tiny hard granule of dead wood.

A soft glow leans toward their mind but doesn’t quite enter. Ashton braces internally anyway.

“They’re pretty important to you,” Imogen says aloud, instead.

Having someone important is dangerous. That’s how stupid decisions get made. Case in point: letting a complete stranger put them all under so they can go fight the spirit of a necromancer in order to yank a not-quite-living, not-quite-not woman out of a tree-shaped manifestation of her trauma, or some shit.

But then Ashton is caught completely off-kilter when Imogen continues: “What the fuck is up with that?”

Ah, fuck them, but it works. They crack a laugh.

Imogen laughs quietly along, too. It’s something shared, and it evaporates the murk that’s been crowding Ashton’s throat.

“Somebody’s gotta look out for ‘em,” they say with half a smile. “Otherwise Letters would end up trusting some pack of fools hell-bent on getting dead for each other out of some poorly-advised sense of integrity.”

“Out of all of us, I think FCG is the only one with integrity, sometimes.” Imogen’s grin has seemed to soften her, as well. “They take good care of us. So do you, y’know. You both make a good team.”

Ashton does their best to skirt the compliment, but there’s still some warmth that surges up unattributable to the campfire. Riposte. “Can’t talk about a ‘team’ without looking at you two.” They tip their chin toward the sleeping form that is Laudna, with an empty gap at her side for only as long as Imogen’s on watch. “Closest I’ve ever seen two folks who aren’t in each other’s pants.”

Imogen huffs softly. She rubs her forearm with one distracted hand. “Lotta people don’t get it. That’s fine, I guess. But she just… she saw me when nobody else really did. She knew what it was like. Keeping away from people, feeling like connections were impossible. Laudna was the first new person I got physically close enough to touch in… god, in years. That kinda messes you up after a while, doesn’t it?”

It’s said rhetorically, but her tone clearly expects agreement, and Ashton isn’t inclined to agree. Being messed up: sure. One hundred percent, all day every day. Being messed up because nobody’s holding your hand, or lying close while you sleep, or filling some sort of sappy hug quota: nah.

They settle for responding with a noncommittal grunt.

“It was the simplest thing,” Imogen continues, smiling wistfully down at her hands. “Just touching my elbow to draw my attention to a flower. Handing me an acorn cap or a dead worm or whatever she was decorating her next little doll with. Her hands were always a bit cold but it was still soothing when she’d hum to me, like this.”

Imogen side-leans in just a bit, and it’s a testament to how far Ashton has relaxed with this group – for good or for ill – that they don’t duck away from her approaching hand. Her fingers alight on the back of their neck, gentle as a songbird, as she begins to hum a folksy, unhurried tune.

The touch on their nape drifts back and forth with the cadence of the song. Ashton doesn’t recognize the melody, but it’s easy to imagine it tells a story of land remembered or beauty witnessed. Imogen’s fingertips are… fine. Ashton wouldn’t call them soothing. Wouldn’t really call them anything. Their skin doesn’t register much of anything duller than a slap, so the fire-heated warmth and pressure of her hand is barely notable. But, they suppose, it could be nice – for a person whose body is not constantly, quietly ringing with the ache of pain. It’s yet one more luxury that Ashton is not permitted to experience. It would feel unfair, if they weren’t just used to it.

Imogen’s humming trots up and down in scale as she reaches some chorus line. Her fingers shift, tapping nails in staccato on the back of Ashton’s neck with the time.

Ashton’s shoulders pull slightly inward. Okay, they can feel that a bit more than the softness of fingertips. Kind of itchy.

Doesn’t seem like Imogen is paying any close mind, though. She’s gazing into the campfire again, her head canted gently in unseeing reminiscence. The chorus ends and her fingers fall back into drifting touches with the next wordless verse.

This is so foreign.

Not hanging out with a group, or even having a low conversation in the night; it’s this kind of interaction, this connection, with someone who’s sharing something beyond job-related banter or a clipped story. Apparently Ashton is going to be treated to a full song with tactile accompaniment for no reason except Imogen wanting to give it.

The second verse ends. The chorus picks up again.

Shit, that really does itch when she does that with her fingernails. But, like, a shivery itchiness. It makes Ashton’s belly clench up a little. Especially when the nail tips drag short little lines in a wave pattern up and down their nape. An involuntary shudder trembles through Ashton’s neck and shoulders, but what’s so remarkable is that they don’t want it to stop.

Imogen must notice, because her humming bobs with a light chuckle. But she doesn’t stop the song. She carries into a third verse, this time keeping her nails gliding.

Ashton would feel teased, except for that glow leaning against their mind again. It still doesn’t push in. Rather, it rests against the doorframe, watching kindly from just outside; a sentinel, careful and attentive.

This is so, so foreign.

But fuck it feels… good. And that’s a revelation as much as everything else about this interplay. Ashton’s not thinking about the ever-present, spine-deep ache in their body. Not thinking about when the enjoyment might be soured. Just listening to a friend’s gentle music while fingernails dust sparks of static across their skin.

The hummed song dances off its by-now predictable path into a melodic bridge. Imogen’s nails skitter up and down with the notes, out in wider arcs and spirals, tapping and scraping along Ashton’s scarred, calloused skin, and it’s just– fucking hell, it tickles.

Ashton can’t help the way they hunch even further at that realization. They’re fracturing into laughter before they have any hope of getting a grip on themself.

Imogen’s mental glow warms. It’s okay. It’s okay to sit here and snicker, to crane up one shoulder and then the other in conflicted attempts at protection, to grin and squint and squeeze their fists between their knees and just feel something good for once.

It’s okay.

The tune winds its way back to the notes Ashton now knows by heart, turning reflective and peaceful. Imogen’s humming slows, as do her fingers. She caresses long, gentle lines with the edges of her nails. Ashton’s eyes fall closed, though they still chuckle and shiver through their sighs.

Maybe this is soothing, after all.

#squealing santa 2k22 #tickle fic #stringswork #Critical Role #Bell's Hells #Ashton Greymoore #Imogen Temult #queerplatonic imodna rights!#ticklish!ashton #gen #Understanding Harmony #feather.aesthetic #aaaaa coming in right under the wire of my extension deadline!! it's late but it's here!#hooo gettin' back in that writing saddle i feel like i need chaps #also inaugural cr c3 fic woooooo

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lovelydiamond-cake · 2 years ago

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Sweets addict.

Affocream isn't a bad ship..

First ticklefic! I won't be doing these often cause they take forever to write, but I won't mind ideas. They aren't guaranteed, but I would like to hear what you have In mind!

《♡》《♡》《♡》《♡》《♡》《♡》《♡》《♡》

Sweets.

Affogato cookie has a terrible sweet tooth.

One which he will deny till he dies.

He claims it's the effect of living in such a bitter cold kingdom or the ice cream in him is aching for some sweetness. But whatever it may be, his boyfriend had to deal with it.

Clotted Cream never minded giving his love some sweets every once in a while. He'd asked the chefs to make him some pastries or go down to the bakery to get Affogato something tasty every once in a while. But the way Affogato was addicted to these soft baked treats was concerning, to say the least.

Clotted would find Affogato sneaking into the kitchen to ask the chefs himself to make him something sugary, he'd find him stuffing himself with as many sweets as he can, (which would be the reason why Clotted would hand feed him most of the time to watch his pace), he'd even find him snacking on some leftover sweets in areas where eating was a questionable idea. And boy was that the worse of it all.

The number of times Clotted had to keep sweet treats hidden from his love was, to say the very least, a worryingly large amount due to Affogato always finding a way to get his beautifully done hands on them.

No matter how much Clotted pleaded with him to slow down while eating or to stop eating them because he already had more than enough, Affogato would do the exact opposite. His new excuse would be

"You hide them from me anyway! I can barely munch on these like I used to!"

"There's a reason for that! You can't have to much of these sweets, you'll get sick."

"And! If so? I don't mind! I just want another!"

Was he stubborn? Yes, but Clotted would never truly get upset with him. He understands Affogato doesn't have the availability to eat the sweets that he pleases at home, but he does wish that the snacking would stop.

Cause sneaking in Swiss rolls at night while he was sleeping was absurd.

Clotted, who was sound asleep, woke up to the disturbing sound of shuffling and a wrapper opening. The young council sighed his eyes awake, turning his head to see only the back body figure of his boyfriend, and taking a huge guess, was stuffing a meals worth of sweets into his mouth.

He sighed, lifting his lower back so his belts can sneak it's way to Affogato. Wrapping themselves around the addict, Affogato shot up, before immediately being put down and his arms restrained above his head.

"Ugh!!" He yelled, mostly in shock. "Clotted! Oh! Wake up darling would you? I think your dreaming, and frankly, I'm flattered but-"

"Affogato.."

"Oh! Your awake! Well if you don't mind-"

"What are you doing at 2 something in the morning?"

He felt the Advisor stiffen a bit, it was subtle but not unnoticed. "I'm technically caffeine-infused, Clotted. I stay up all the time! You know this already!" Oh he knew, but that wasn't the answer he was looking for. He made his way to sit on top of the ice-cream coffee cookie.

"Why must you ask questions that-" Clotted, not wanting to hear any more excuses, gave his boyfriend a warning squeeze to the hip.

The action caused the addict to scream in terror.

"C-Clotted.. Darling! I-"

"I'm going to ask you once more Affogato" He moved aside some of the fancy cookie's sleeping gown, having his bare fingers touch the rough skin of the Cacoian below him. "What are you doing, at 2 something in the morning?"

The Advisor's eyes were stuck on the young Consul's hand. Unable to look elsewhere not even to the "tormentors" face to answer. He knew what was going to happen to him, and frankly, he was terrified. But deep down? He thinks he'll like it.

"Affogato... it isn't wise to ignore" his hand gave another squeeze.

"C-CLOTTEhehed I- I wahahas-"

"You were what?"

"Gihi-gihive me a chahahHAhaHA-"

The most he was doing was quick yet tender scrunches, quickly scratching his fingers across his lover's sides and ribs. He didn't understand why Affogato was already laughing...

"Why are you laughing already? Hm?" He questioned as he spidered his way up the addict's ribs, digging back down, then again going back to the small scrunches he was doing before. "I'm barely touching you..."

"NO-OHOHHAH PLeheheHse! CuhuhUHUHAHA"

"Cuh? What's cuh? Sweetheart?"

"SHuhuh- Comhm ohohon Dahahar-" a swift pinch to the thighs. "stOAHAHAH CLOTTED! CLOHOHohohotted plehe-hehase!!"

Clotted took note of Affogato's reactions. Well, let's be honest, he always did. Every time they were in this.. predicament... Clotted would always take notes on Affogato's reactions. Whether it'd be the way he squealed when he kissed his neck.

"CLOTT- EDDDDD Gehehet awahaAHAHA"

The way he kicked out when his knees were pinched, and my, no one would like to be at the end of that.

"SHIHIT! PLE-HAHAHA"

The way he snorts when you tease him verbally or at a certain spot long enough.

"My you're rather sensitive this Morning yeah?"

"SHUHUHSH SHUHUHSH" *Snort* "ILL TEHELL ILL TEHEHLL"

"I'm just getting very simple spots yet you are just snorting your pretty little head off aren't you?"

*snort* "STAH-AP" *snort* "STAHAHAHA ILL TEHELL"

"Why are you trying to hide your face? Is it really bad when I get just above your waist? Is it?-"

"NO NO, SHUT UP!"

"Come Is it love? Is it that bad? You're hiding your face again! Can't I see that lovely face of yours?"

"CLOHOHOHTHEEHED! I GIHIHIHIHVE! I- I CA-CAN'T "

One of his favorites, was when Affogato would shoot up and either try to scoot back or loosen the bound he was under.

"Oh-h why are we up all of a sudden?"

"PLEHEHEHSE"

"Oh, are you asking me to get your neck again?"

"NOHOHOH NOHO!"

"You could've just asked! We gotta work on your manners don't we?"

"SHUHU IT WAHAHAS-" He strikes his thighs once more "HOLY WITCHES FUHAHAHA"

After a while, Clotted completely forgot why he was tickling Affogato in the first place. With the many jerks, rebounding his belts to keep Affogato in place, and extremely loud laughter (and snorts), the reason for torment completely passed his mind.

"SWI-" He let out his 5th wheeze "SWISS ROLLS"

"Hm?" The tormenter looked up at his lover's new position, no longer laying on his back on the bed but instead laying against the consul himself facing a mirror that happened to be across the room. For the consul, it was a great view of him, getting to see all the faces the addict makes, how flushed he looked, oh, and how his tears now stained his cheeks (thank the witches he didn't have his makeup on).

But for Affogato? God, it was hell! He didn't need to see how embarrassing he looked. The worst part of it all was he couldn't hide his face!

"FUAUAUAAHAH SWISH ROLLS I WAS EAHAHTING SWISS R-rohoh"

Clotted eased his attack on the poor Advisor, letting his belts slip off and Affogato ease back. He took a second to admire his work.

"Mhmhm you make staying up worth it" he laughed giving him a fat kiss on the cheek that Affogato still flinched too. "Swiss rolls this early? Affogato we're gonna have to put a limit on how much sweets you eat."

"Yeahah yeahah whatever!" He swatted, completely exhausted.

"Oh? With that attitude maybe I should've gotten your stomach!"

"NO- uh- I- I mean, let's cuddle instead!" Affogato tried to play off, getting comfortable in his lover's arms. "But I thought you caffeine infused? Wouldn't you want to spend the rest of the night-"

"Clotted Darling! Shut up and wrap your arms around me."

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Hope you Enjoyed!!

#cookie run #tickle #cr tickles #tickle thoughts #tickle scenarios #tickle fic #affogato cookie #clotted cream cookie #lee!affogato #ler!clotted cream

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giggle-bee · 1 year ago

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oh my god I will cry I will sob I will explode

Concentration

Read on AO3

Summary: A tickle fight breaks out, but Caleb can’t participate because he needs to concentrate on his spell. No, really.

–

Jester hadn’t met any other tieflings before, besides her mama. Hadn’t met many other people, really, until she’d gone off travelling and found her group of friends. She hadn’t known what she’d expected to find out in the big wide world, but Molly was one that she’d never dreamed of.

Her mama had told her how not everyone felt the same as they did about things. How humans and half elves and orcs and goblins were a bit odd about touch in a way that she’d never understand. Jester had never been one to resist the urge to cuddle, to hug, to poke and play with those closest to her.

Molly, apparently, was the same. Jester had barely squeaked out a few giggles at his teasing prods to her belly when she pounced, fingers slipping past the edges of his coat to wriggle at his ribs and draw out delighted snorty laughter.

She giggled at how quickly he folded. “You could have asked, Molly.”

He definitely flushed at her words, illuminated by the edge of Caleb’s dome. “No- pfhaha- no fun!”

Keep reading

#HOW IS EVERY ONE OF YOUR FICS SO AMAZING????#dude I don’t even listen to CR I just read the fics for it but oml #they’re so good #and this????#dude I love how you write Caleb so much #jester my beloved #tickle fic #critickle role #ticklish!caleb #ticklish!mollymauk #ticklish!jester #lee!jester #lee!molly #lee!caleb #ler!jester #ler!molly

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rangerbarbz · 11 months ago

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First Time

Author’s Note: Y’all i am so sorry it’s been so long since i posted a fic. I am a junior in college and i have two jobs so i have been so busy. However expect some more stories now that it’s winter break! Hope everyone is having some happy holidays 🫶🏼

Summary: Reader and Ford go all the way for the first time together

It was a chilly night in Gravity Falls, Oregon when Stanford Pines and you decided to make some cookies. It was the perfect atmosphere for baking: comfy clothes, the temperature had dropped down, and the sun dipped behind the woods surrounding the Mystery Shack. The rest of the Pines family had went on an excursion to break into the theatre for a free movie, so you can’t imagine they would be back anytime soon.

Ford and you were in the kitchen trying to figure out what to make with the few ingredients you had available.

“Hmmm… So I’m seeing cinnamon here,” you said, looking into a cabinet next to the fridge. “I’m not seeing much else. What do you think about Snickerdoodles?” You grinned excitedly and faced Ford who was already smiling.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice resonating in you. God, his voice was so attractive. You remember hearing him talk for the first time in the library where you worked and your heart just melting.

He was in the fantasty section talking to himself when you walked by the aisle to reshelf a book. He was in the same area where the book needed to be relocated. Turns out you were holding the novella he was wanting to read, and you two struck up a conversation. He was kind and smelled delightful. You were too shy to ask him for his number, but a young girl who came into the library once a week for a crocheting club set you up on a date. You were unaware at the time this young girl was his great niece. The rest is history.

“Do you think everyone else will like them? I want to make sure these won’t go to waste,” you asked, scrunching your eyebrows together.

Ford scoffed as he was scraping flour from a measuring cup back into the bag. “Please, those things will be devoured. You have nothing to worry about.”

You laughed softly, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Glad to hear that.” A small smile spread across his face.

While you two prepared the ingredients and mixed everything together, you filled Ford in on the workplace drama. He would never admit it, but he loved to gossip with you.

“I can’t believe Denise would do that,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. “I mean who does she think she is?” You rolled the last ball of cookie dough in cinnamon and sugar before pressing it into the pan.

“Right?! Like come on, now. I thought we were civilized.” Ford chuckled at your comment and put the cookies in the oven.

“Some people just never learn.” He snaked his arm around your waist and put a hand on your hip, bringing you closer to him. You placed your hand on his broad back and leaned your head on his chest.

“We got about 25 minutes until these are done. Wanna see what’s on TV?” you suggested, looking up at him. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sure. I think that’s enough time to get through half an episode of ‘Ghost Harassers.’”

“Ah, man. Dipper’s got you hooked doesn’t he?” You giggled and began to walk into the living room, him following suit.

Ford sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I know it’s fake, but their reactions to these so-called ghosts are so funny.” He sat down on the recliner while you fiddled with the TV antenna to get it to the right channel.

It finally flickered to a group of men with flashlights running through an abandoned house screaming. “Ah! Got it!” you exclaimed. You ran over to Ford and sat on his lap. Your legs draped over his, feet hanging over the armrest. This time he kissed your cheek, his stubble tickling your face.

“Good job, dear,” he murmured in your ear. Butterflies formed in your stomach from hearing his low voice.

“Thanks, baby.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as one of his arms cradled you. He was so strong; you always felt protected by him. One hand was splayed across your stomach while the other was on your knee.

You were so engrossed in the show you didn’t notice Ford wasn’t paying a lick of attention. You were wearing loose shorts which exposed much of your legs, and he was entranced.

You lifted your head up to look at him, eyes drifting over your thighs. His hand remained still on your knee, however.

“Stanford?” You had a mischievous smile on your face.

He quickly looked over at you like he had just been caught doing something wrong. Since the lights were still on, you could see the blush spread across his face.

“Something catch your eye?” you teased, inching your face closer to his.

“I-uh. My apologies. I was distracted.” He cleared his throat and returned his eyes to the TV. Oh, so he was going to play dumb? You were going to drag it out of him.

“M-hmm. What was distracting you?” You egged on. He glanced over at you and back to the TV.

“Your, um, legs. They just looked very nice.” Ford answered quietly, avoiding eye contact with you. It was so cute to see Ford get flustered.

You had kissed and hugged, but never went much further than that. It was hard to find alone time, and Ford could be hesitant about showing affection. This didn’t bother you, though. You were willing to wait how ever long you needed to for him. He had been through a lot, so it’s reasonable for him to want to take things slow and gain trust.

“Ford, you can touch my legs if you want,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his. “Do whatever you want. I don’t mind.” You gave him soft kiss on his lips and cupped his face in your hands. Your fingers slid through his silver hair and down the nape of his neck.

He sighed into your mouth and you felt his hand slowly creep up your leg. His other was on the small of your back. His hand began to slowly travel up and down your leg, stopping to squeeze every now and then as you continued the kiss.

God, he was being so gentle with you and all you can think about is ripping his clothes off.

You shifted your body so you were straddling him without breaking contact with his lips. His hands started to squeeze your thighs a little harder, his thumbs rubbing your inner thighs.

You whined a little against his lips. You could feel his lips turn into a smile. You decided to deepen the kiss by opening your mouth and sliding your tongue along his lips. You felt him shiver as he welcomed you. What started as an innocent kiss began to turn into a make-out sesh. His hands had moved to your hips and were gripping them. Not tightly enough to hurt you, but enough to feel oh so good.

You broke away from the kiss when you heard the oven timer go off. “Dammit, cookies,” you joked, getting up from Ford’s lap. “Don’t move. I’ll be back for you, handsome.” You quickly pecked his nose and made your way into the kitchen. The Snickerdoodles smelled delicious as you pulled them out of the oven. You placed the pan on the stove top not wanting to damage the kitchen table from the heat. You removed your oven mitts from your hand and placed them back in the drawer where they came from.

“Cookies are done! Just-“ You were cut off by Ford scooping you into his arms and carrying you to his room. You were giggling uncontrollably all the way there feeling like a bride on her honeymoon.

He pushed open his bedroom door and gently placed you on his bed. He sat beside you, his eyes staring earnestly into yours. He took your hands into his, fingers intertwining perfectly together.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he started. “I am tired of dancing around these feelings I have for you. I want to be completely vulnerable.”

You were a little worried as to what he was about to tell you.

“I’m in love with you. I love everything about you, and I know in my heart this is deeper than surface level admiration. And…if you’ll let me. I want to show you just how much I love you.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes. You lifted your hand into his and began to plant kisses on each of his knuckles. “Oh, Stanford. I would be honoured, but are you sure you want to move forward like that? I know you like to take things slow.”

He shook his head and smiled at you while using his thumb to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek. “I’m totally sure. I was holding back my affections for you because I was scared. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone before, and I didn’t want to make careless mistakes. Now all I want is you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You grinned and nodded your head eagerly. “Yes, please.” His face was pink perhaps from the whirlwind of emotions you both were experiencing.

He leaned forward his hands holding your face now. His movements were more sure than they had ever been before. You laid on your back, letting him take charge.

Your innocent kiss quickly turned rampant, exploring each other’s mouths. Your hands gripping his broad shoulders and moving through his hair once again. His elbows were on either side of your head, his breath becoming more ragged. His lips moved from yours to kiss down your neck. You moaned into his ear as sucked on a spot in the dip of your collarbones. There was sure to be a hickey there in the morning, but you didn’t mind. There was something erotic about having a mark from him.

Ford kissed down the other side of your neck, leaving yet another sign he was there on your collarbone. His mouth went to your ear to whisper, “May I take off your shirt?”

“Yes,” you hissed. That was all he needed. His fingers tugged the hem of your oversized shirt and pulled it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra which had Ford somewhat short-circuiting. His eyes drank you in, eyes trying to capture your beauty permanently in his mind. He stared for so long you had become a tad insecure, so you crossed your arms over your breasts.

“No, no,” he moved your arms away quickly. “I’m sorry, dear. You’re just so…beautiful.” You felt your face heat up. His eyes were just so full of adoration, and it made you nervous.

“Thank you,” you replied softly. He smiled gently and started to kiss down your chest. They were as soft as feathers. He then kneaded at your breasts, letting out a sharp exhale. His calloused hands felt wonderful against you. His thumb caressed your nipple before he put it in his mouth. You yelped at the contact. His tongue swirled around your aerola as his other hand pinched your hard nipple between his fingers.

“F-Ford,” you breathed, your hands gripping his hair. He had began to suck at your nipple and repeated the same actions to your other breast.

He continued to move down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He got to your loose shorts and looked at you as to ask for permission. You nodded, your face becoming hotter.

Ford’s eyes glinted with lust as he looked into your eyes. “You know, I loved the way you said my name. Can’t wait to hear you say it more.” You could barely register how smooth that line was before he was removing your pajama bottoms. You didn’t wear underwear to bed so you were now completely exposed.

Ford sat up to look you up and down. His lips were parted slightly, and his hands gently rubbed your thighs. He looked at you in disbelief.

“Y/N, you are the most heavenly sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ford murmured. “You look like art.” His eyes had gazed down back to your now dripping core, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. He sure knew how to worship his woman.

“But frankly, my dear, I’m about to be very disrespectful to you,” he mumbled, his lips kissing your inner thighs.

“Oh God,” you moaned. He was making his way to your center but taking his sweet time. Ford was a loving man. However, you could tell a primal part of him had been awakened.

His placed sweet kisses along your folds before flicking his tongue along your clit to tease you. You cried out in pleasure as he dove into you. He licked a stripe inside you and moved his tongue back and forth. You heard him moan deeply as he tasted you. Your brain was becoming foggy from how good everything felt and how he enjoyed pleasing you. Your thighs pressed against the side of his head; his hands were massaging your hips.

“Stanford, please. I want to feel you.” You needed him so bad. He lifted his head up from your thighs, slick covering his chin and lips. His hair was a ruffled mess. God, he looked good.

“Of course, sweetheart.” His finger rubbed along your entrance. He breathed heavy as he slid a finger into you. You let out a sharp inhale as you adjusted to him.

“Ford…”

“You feel so, so good.” Ford pumped his finger back and forth in you. Your eyes were closed and your legs had started to shake. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. Seeing you come apart underneath him was almost too much for Ford.

You had decided that he had done enough for you. It was time to return the favor. “Baby, baby. I wanna ride you.” Ford stopped and slowly removed himself from you.

“Are you sure?” he asked. I don’t mind-“ You pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. You grabbed his face and kissed him passionately.

You separated from the kiss to see his eyes wide and a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Take off your shirt,” you demanded. He quickly removed his loose red shirt to reveal a toned, yet scarred body. You had actually seen him shirtless before accidentally when he came out of the shower in just a towel so this wasn’t a shock. You found it incredibly attractive. Although, it took lots of convincing for him to believe you.

You ran your hands over his chest and kissed him once more. “You’re so sexy, Stanford,” you whispered to him before biting his earlobe. You spastically kissed him all over his body, letting your hands now roam over his muscular arms. You couldn’t tell it by looking at him, but he was packing some heat under those sweaters. You were also grinding down on his painfully erect dick which caused him to whimper.

Ford sat up and held you close to him as you fumbled with pulling down his sweatpants. He sprang free and you lowered yourself onto him. He let out a guttural moan as he felt your walls tighten around him. His forehead was against your shoulder while you bounced up and down on him. His strong hands had grabbed onto your ass, his fingers pressing into the tended flesh.

“Y/N…Oh my…” You held his face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes while you fucked him. He had a loving look; you had an animalistic one.

“I’m… Not going to last much longer, darling,” he said between breaths.

“Me neither baby.” It was the truth. He already almost had you with his finger, but now that his length was inside you, you didn’t stand a chance. Your legs had started twitching and you threw your head back, allowing Ford to assault your neck further. His arms were now wrapped around you as you came insanely hard. You thought you were gonna see stars. It only took a couple more seconds for him to fill you up. His chest heaved up and down as he collapsed on his bed with you on top of him.

“That was…wonderful,” he sighed, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Agreed, but I think we need a shower after that,” you suggested.

Ford raised one of his eyebrows at you. “Round two?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Oh you bet.”

P.S. I didn’t look over this so if you see a typo or bad grammar no you didn’t

#ford pines #gravity falls #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #imagine #stanley pines #pines family #fluff #smut

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bimobuddy · 1 year ago

Text

Chasing the Chicken

Helluva Boss

SFW Tickle fic

I haven't seen this done yet so I decided to do it

Lee!Asmodeus, Ler!Fizzy

Summary: Fizzarolli gets the Fizz-equivalent to zoomies and Asmodeus is his target.

"Fizzy, baby, calm down, just take some deep breaths, please-"

Out of context, it may have sounded like Asmodeus was trying to calm his partner down from a panic attack. However, with context, you'd see the Sin holding his hands up in defense, and Fizz inching closer to him with an almost feral look in his eyes. And Asmodeus knew this look very well unfortunately.

Fizz lunged, but Asmodeus was faster. He dodged, barely, and ran to the other side of the bedroom. Now they were in the same stand-off as before, just in different positions. This had been going on for about ten minutes at this point.

Fizz's "zoomies" didn't happen often, but when they did, he was a ball of absolute chaos. Most of the imps knew to either lock the office doors or to stay out of his way because once he got running, he could not be stopped, not even by Ozzie sometimes. Especially not when Ozzie was his target.

The jester grinned. "Cluck, cluck~"

Asmodeus frowned. "That is rude- AH!" He jumped back to avoid getting jumped on. This time, Fizz wasn't stopping. He continued to run after him on all fours, even using his limbs to essentially launch himself, while Asmodeus was desperately trying to run around furniture without tripping or losing his robe. When he found himself cornered, he just teleported himself across the room in a quick flash of flame.

"Cheating!" Fizz called after him, having turned around to chase him again. The Sin found himself grinning at this. "We're demons, babe, we don't exactly play by the rules!" He laughed, making it back to their bedroom, shutting the door. He initially was going to lock it but a part of him felt bad about locking Fizz out of the room. All of this disappeared when the door was unceremoniously thrown open, revealing a mischievous little imp. Nevermind. He should have locked the door.

"Fizzy, it's too early for all this, come on now-" He backed up, maintaining eye contact, too afraid to turn his back on the gremlin in front of him. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking where he was going and ended up tripping, falling back onto the bed. Fizzarolli wasted absolutely no time and jumped up onto him, startling Asmodeus into giving a short shriek.

Extending his arms, Fizz wrapped Ozzie up and started scritching at his sides, resulting in deep chuckles rumbling from deep within his chest. He could easily break free, but he didn't want to risk hurting his little Froggy, so he just gave up and endured it. Fizz knew this too, and used it to his advantage.

Metallic fingers scritched and scribbled over his sides and tummy. Chuckles turned to deep, rich laughter as Ozzie lay there, trying not to squirm too much. "*snort* pff- Ahahahahaha! Fizzy, cohohome ohohon! Okahahay, you cahaught mehehe!" He laughed, hoping that would be enough. But there was a slight evil look in his eyes. Ozzie didn't know what else he wanted until he felt his hands wander lower, toward his hips, causing a giddy, nervous panic to blossom in his stomach right then.

"Wahahait, wAHAIT- Fihihizzy! Nohohot thehere! I'm nohot gonna doho ihihit!" He turned his head away, knowing exactly what Fizzarolli wanted now.

Said imp only grinned. "We'll see about that, Ozzie~"

He drilled his thumbs into the Sin's hips, wincing a little when his laughter came booming out. But the sight he was gifted with was beautiful. Asmodeus had his head tossed back, the widest smile he'd ever seen, and a brilliant blue blush painted from cheek to cheek. He was squirming a lot more now, kicking his legs out, yet still managing to not hurt Fizz, who was holding on tighter now as to not get thrown off.

*CR-CROW*

Fizzarolli stopped and burst out laughing, pulling his arms back and releasing Ozzie, who covered his blushing face, catching his breath. "Ugh, why do you insist on making me make that sound?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled from his hands, yet there was no real hint at being genuinely upset. Fizz grinned, sitting on his chest. "Because it's cute, duh."

Asmodeus removed his hands and looked up at his grinning partner and couldn't help but smile himself. "Well are you finally satisfied enough to calm down?"' "For now." The rooster snorted. "Good enough."

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #lee!asmodeus #lee!ozzie #ler!fizzarolli #helluva boss tickles

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thebest-medicine · 8 months ago

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Day 28: Massage

Tickletober 2023 - Critical Role - C1 Vox Machina - lee!Vex

[see my other tickletober 2023 fics]

[read on AO3]

A/N: Perc’ahlia gang rise! They both seem the type to be ticklish but in denial about it and embarrassed. Revenge would be wicked.

Words: 480

—

Percy’s fingers work their way down along Vex’s shoulder blades, tending to the sore muscles. As he works out a particularly tense knot, she lets out a delighted little sigh of relief.

Smiling down at her, Percy leans in to kiss the skin along the back of her neck. It shudders under his lips, another small noise escaping her throat—this time —she quickly transforms it into a sound of pleasure. It’s a clever disguise, but one that Percy could see through any time with ease.

“Ticklish there? Sorry.”

“What? No, not at all, darling.”

He leans back down to her neck; unlucky for Vex’ahlia, she can’t see the smirk on his face from her angle.

She hears him take a deep breath, tries to turn to ask him what he’s doing, and then the room erupts with noise. Loudest of them all is Vex’s shriek of surprised laughter. There’s the thumping of squirming limbs against the mattress, the silly sound rippling out of Percival’s mouth and across the skin of her neck, the laugh he lets out a moment later when he pulls back and starts massaging again, pretending as though nothing happened.

“You little bastard!” Vex hisses, barely holding in a laugh. She turns, pushes him away, and he’s smiling wide as he falls next to her on the bed.

Percy turns to take her in—blushing and failing to hold back a smile.

“‘Not at all’ ticklish, hmm?” He prods. “That seemed rather ticklish.” He skitters his fingers along the backs of her ribs.

“Not.” She digs in her heels, biting her lip to fight back a smile. Then, Vex’ahlia is on him, fingers wiggling deftly into his sides.

Neither of them are fighting off their laughter now, Percival from the tickling nails climbing under his nightshirt and Vex from the high of turning the tables on him.

“See how you fucking like it–” Percy hears her grumble before she’s ripping his shirt up and throwing the bottom of the fabric onto his chest and in his face.

“NO–” He utters, pawing the shirt back away from his face just as she leans in to blow raspberry after raspberry on his stomach.

Percy’s hands are tangled in her hair a moment later, his feet beating against the mattress as hers were just a minute earlier. He cries out a desperate laugh as she takes her time, fucks with him a bit longer, until he calls out. “Fuck, mercy! Please!”

She relents, satisfied in her victory to make up for the prematurely ended massage.

Percy heaves a few breaths. “Remind me never, ever to piss you off.”

“Better not even dream of it.”

She’s not sure she wants to push for him to get back to the massage tonight, though… despite what he may say, the temptation of revenge would be much too inviting, and she didn’t feel like taking any losses tonight.

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everettswritings · 5 months ago

Note

i saw the post about closing requests, but i just wanted to leave this here- dont feel pressured to do this one, you can finish whatever you have left first! i can wait :] anyway, for the request itself:

I NEEEEED MORE LEE SHADOW MILK PLEASEEE WHETHER ITS READER OR JUST CANON CHARACTERS WHATEVER JUST GIVE ME MORE 🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAA

This was definitely a while ago, so you definitely get a cookie after the wait 🍪. And YES! WE NEED MORE LEE!SHADOW MILK! I want this twink completely WRECKED by 4:00. (NSFW/Kink accounts DNI) Also, this is pre-imprisonment

The Five Heroes, now known as the Five Beasts. It feels like just moments ago they were reigning in an era of peace that would last for eons to come, but now their powers were being used to crumble the freshly-baked world around them. However, did this corruption completely strip them of who they once were? Maybe not…

They were all gathered at the Ivory Pagoda, discussing who would do what with their respective pieces of land. As per usual after his corruption, Shadow Milk Cookie was figuratively and literally bouncing off the walls, acting like a butterfly hopped up on sugar. He was cracking jokes, finding it impossible to keep still, and everyone was starting to grow annoyed. Even Mystic Flour Cookie’s apathetic persona was faltering, her expression souring as if she ate a lemon.

Eternal Sugar Cookie sighed “Always active, like usual… Why not let the comfort of sloth envelop you? Why not let it all go and-“ Shadow Milk Cookie interrupted her “WHY’D THE SLOTH CROSS THE ROAD?!” He didn’t await a reply “HE DIDN’T! HE WAS TOO SLOW TO CROSS!” He started laughing at his own joke, meanwhile the others didn’t even crack a smile. The Beasts shot each other knowing glances, like they were forming a plan without even speaking; they always had a bond like that, even in madness. Without a word, Silent Salt Cookie snuck up behind the jester without making so much as a single sound and grabbed him. Shadow Milk Cookie gasped at the sudden grip on his arms “O-Oh! Hello, Silent Salt Cookie! S-Still giving us all the silent treatment?” They chuckled nervously, subconsciously knowing what was about to come.

The other three gathered around as Shadow Milk Cookie had his arms lifted above his head, “Shadow Milk Cookie,” Mystic Flour Cookie addressed him “Your antics may be welcomed elsewhere, but not in my sacred temple. We are all fed up with you acting so childishly; now you get to pay a price you know all too well.” The Beasts readied their hands and the jester squirmed wildly, though he was unable to break free of Silent Salt Cookie’s grasp. “W-Wait! Guys!” Their voice cracked with panic, but as the others approached, they knew their fate was sealed “Uh oh.” Was all they could say. Seconds afterwards, the jester started to howl with crazed laughter; but not laughter at his own jokes.

Burning Spice Cookie was roughly scribbling all over his stomach, Eternal Sugar Cookie was lazily scratching at his armpits, Mytic Flour Cookie was running her fingers across his sides and ribs, and even Silent Salt Cookie joined in by rubbing against the jester’s palms.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HEHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHEEE!! STOHOHOP! NO!” Shadow Milk Cookie squealed, instantly overwhelmed by the other Beasts attacking his spots this way. Their methods were so different, but equally vicious! “MERCHEHEHEHEY! HAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO MOREEE!!” They pleaded onto deaf ears, but it was ultimately useless, the others wouldn’t stop for a good while.

After what felt like hours, but what was most likely a couple minutes, the others let the jester go. Shadow Milk Cookie flopped to the floor, unable to speak or breathe without wheezing. The other four sat beside him, tiny smiles on their faces. To answer that question from earlier: maybe they didn’t lose who they were, even in this state of madness. If only that sense of camaraderie had been enough to save them…

I can’t wait for the other Beast cookies to come out, this was all headcanons because there’s literally NOTHING about them besides Shadow Milk and Mystic Flour! I NEED MY SILLY LITTLE AGENTS OF CHAOS! Anyways, hope you enjoyed. That’s all, have a good one 🫶

#everetts writings #crk #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom #Lee!shadow milk cookie #cookie run tickles #shadow milk cookie #ler!mystic flour cookie #ler!eternal sugar cookie #ler!burning spice cookie #ler!silent salt cookie #sfw tickling #tickle fic

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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

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lilianlay · 1 year ago

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Fun on the beach

I wrote this fic last year and now it's time to show it😊 I hope you enjoy it. Hug everyone^^

Summary: Vacation didn't go according to plan and Lucifer wants to fix it

Warning: This is a tickle fic. If you don't like this, don't read it^^

Today be a very hot day. Even for the demons living in Devildom, it was unbearable.

- Why is it so hot today? - moaned Asmodeus and collapsed on the sofa in the living room, where the rest brothers were. - This heat is very bad for my skin.."

- I can't help but agree with Asmo, it's really hot today. - said Satan, who was trying to read book but could not concentrate.

- I can't sleep because of this.. - Belphie complained.

- And I'm eat.. - Beel pouted.

Levi just lay on the floor in starfish pose and mumbled something under his breath.

Mammon was quiet today, he looked out the window and listened out of the corner of his ear to his brothers.

- Hmm, I heard you - Lucifer began, who was sitting in an armchair and typed something on his D.D.D. - And already figured it out.

- You can make it rain?! - Asmo looked at his older brother.

- No. I have written to Diavolo and he will gladly lend us his private beach.

- Really?! - exulted the Avatar of Lust.

- Really. - the dark haired said. - And now everyone goes to their rooms and collects things, you have 20 minutes. - Avatar of Pride moved towards himself.

- I'm not even surprised that Lord Diavolo was so quick to offer Lucifer his beach - Satan quietly said to Belphie.

- Hehe, nothing is a pity for a lover" - the younger giggled.

- Thanks to Satan and Belph, you have 10 minutes left to get ready - was heard from the hallway.

Satan huffed and rolled his eyes.

Just now, Mammon, who was sitting by the window, got up and went to his room. As soon as he closed it, immediately heard an evil laugh.

- Private beach haha, this is the perfect opportunity to see Lucifer's naked torso! I'll take a picture of him and I can sell those pictures! I'll be rich!!" - he took the camera and began to rejoice.

- Mammon hurry up!! - he heard the voice of older brother.

- Oh yes of course! - as soon as he said that, he chuckled softly.

~~~

- Mm how fresh - Asmo spread his arms and took a deep breath.

Beel was more interested in the food they took with them. Satan decided to make a sneak attack on Levi and Belphie. He took a water gun and attacked them, splashing water.

- Satan!!! - third born squeaked and ran after him.

- It's wonderful here, thank you Luci!~ Asmodeus rushed to hug the older.

- I'm glad you liked it. - he smiled and stroked his brother on the back.

Lucifer put his things on the sand and began to take off the shirt in which he came.

- This is my chance!" - Mammon whispered to himself and quickly took out the camera, but was immediately disappointed, since the Avatar of Pride was already in his hydro suit. - What the...?"

~~~

Brothers decided what to play. There were a lot of offers and very strange ones from Mammon.

- Whoever shows a lot of bare skin wins." - the white-haired smiled and snuggled to Lucifer. - And if you want to play, you'll have to take off your costume~

- It's a terrible game. - said Satan with a light facepalm.

- We'll find a compromise then. We can play flags. - the dark-haired said and took out a stick.

- Ohh nice idea!~ Asmo clapped.

- It remains to decide where we will place the flag. - said Lucifer.

Mammon took stick in his brother's hand

- I think I know a great place! - he began to quickly approach the older's back and put the stick behind the collar.

All the other brothers stood in shock, he finally lost his mind?!

- Oops, now you'll have to take off your shirt to pull out the stick~ Mammon chuckled and took out his camera. But before he could turn around, grabbed him and in a couple of seconds he was already tied to a wooden pole.

- Um, Luci, what does all this mean?!" - the Avatar of Greed was trying to get out.

- Mammon, we came here to relax, and you tried to expose my torso during the day. - he crossed his arms.

- What?! Of course not! I didn't want anything! - the white-haired again tried to get free, but in the end, because of his efforts, sandal flies from his right foot.

- Then why did you walk around with a camera all day? - Levi asked.

- Um, let the memories stay, hehe. - Mammon replied nervously.

- Oh really?! I want to see those pictures! - Asmo smiled.

- Here's his camera. - Beel picked it up and turned it on.

- No no no! Wait! We're not done yet!!

Satan and Belphie started giggling.

- Yeah, good memories, especially when there is only Lucifer in the photos. - said the seventh born.

- Beel, give me a camera. - as soon as the Avatar of Pride began flipping through the photos, Mammon felt that he didn't have long to live.

- L-Lucifer, I can explain everything..

- Oh, you'll explain - he gave the camera to Levi. - But first, you will be punished.

- What?! Right here and now?!

- I wanted to punish you at home, but since you yourself want it. - he could hear teasing in Lucifer's voice.

- I'm already tie, why punish me any more?

- Hmm, that's not enough. - the Avatar of Pride looked Mammon up and down and chuckled. - I have to do one more thing."

- Wh-what? Lucifer! Wait! - the second born with new strength tried to get out as soon as he saw that his brother sat on the sand closer to his feet. - Please forgive me, I didn't mean to do that

- Mm, I don't think so and you deserve punishment for that. - he grabbed his brother's leg sticking out of the rope and began to slowly draw circles on the arch. It was enough for Mammon to squeak and start giggling.

- Nohohohoh Lucihihihi dohohohohon't." - his second foot in the sandal began to wiggle wildly and even tried to protect his right.

- Don't worry, the second foot will also get punished, but later~

- Sohohohohorry plehehehease

- No. - Lucifer answered firmly and began to tickle his brother's all foot faster.

- Ahahahahahahaha nohohohoho thahahaht's enohohohough

- Aww poor Mammon~ the white- haired was able to hear Asmo's teasing voice through his laughter.

- Hehe would like to switch places with him? - giggled Satan and poked the peach-haired's sides.

- Heeek! - the fifth born squeaked and looked at the blond. - "I don't want to, but I can provide it for you! - he ran after Satan, keeping his perfect nails at the ready.

Lucifer was not distracted from his work, but chuckled when he heard Satan's laughter.

- Looks like he needs help. - Levi suggested.

- Asmo or Satan? - Beel stated.

- It depends on which side we're on. - Belphie chuckled.

Brothers ran towards them, leaving Lucifer and Mammon alone.

- Whahahahat?? Nohohoho! Guhahahays hehehehelp

- They won't hear you anymore - the Avatar of Pride chuckled.

- Stohohohohop I cahahahahahan't

- Hmm, when you wanted to take a picture of me, you could?" - his hand reached for the second sandal and removed it.

- N-no, dohohon't - the blue-eyed tried to close one leg after the other.

- Don't what?

- Tickle me! - and then Mannon realized that he had made a mistake. - No! Wait a minute, that's not what I meant!

- Hehe, it's been so many years and this trick is still working on you~

Lucifer grabbed both ankles and began to tickle both feet quickly.

- Nohohohohooho! Lucihihihihi pleheheahAHAHAHAHASE

- I don't understand what you mean. You yourself wanted me to tickle you." - the Avatar of Pride raised his head and looked at his brother and how his cheeks began to turn red.

- I wohohohon't behehe anyMOHOHOHOHORE"

- Hmm, I don't think so. - the nails began to tickle very quickly.

- I SWEHEHEHEHEAR! I WOHOHOHON'T! LUHAHAHACI" - tears flowed down his cheeks.

Lucifer chuckled softly when remembered that Mammon had promised to behave in the same way as a child. He was well aware that he would still act like a jerk, but ticklish lessons could help, though not for long.

- What won't you? - mock the dark-haired and slowed his fingers a little so that his brother could speak.

- I wohohohon't tahahahake pihihihictures of yohohohou or evehehehen thihihihink abohohohout it

- And you'll delete everything

- Yehehes, yehehehes, I'll delehehete it, juhahast stohohop it - he snorted.

- Good. You gave yourself freedom. - Lucifer stopped and stood up.

Mammon just sniffed and looked away, breathe heavily. Lucifer chuckled and began to untie the rope.

The white-haired was so weak that he fell into his brother's arms.

- I can't feel my legs...

- Maybe next time you'll think thrice before doing something like that. - he planted the Avatar of Greed on the sand.

- Yes, yes, I'll think.

Lucifer turned around and went to check on the others while Mammon tried to catch his breath.

- Of course I'll think about it. - the white-haired grinned, wiped away his tears and held his hand behind his back with crossed fingers.

He's not incorrigible.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#tickle fic #obey me tickling #tickle obey me! shall we date?#lucifer #mammon #levi #satan #asmo #beel #belphi #ticklish mammon #ler!lucifer #lee!mammon #tickle community #tickling

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asters-galaxy · 3 years ago

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Warm Embrace

TW: Mentions of death and grieving in author’s note. Skip if you are uncomfortable or sensitive to the topic.

(Hey, it’s been a while. So, shit happened in my life, and not only have I been super busy, but I’ve also been grieving the loss of a very close family member since early December. This is literally the first piece of fiction -- not just fics, actual writing -- that I’ve finished since everything happened. I’m still grieving as I go along, but I promise that I’m doing alright -- as best as I can, anyway. I wanted to write something fluffy and self-indulgent, so that’s why other WIPs, Tickletober, and requests have been taking so awful long. With that out of the way, here’s Warm Embrace, which I hope you enjoy!)

Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.

Fandom: Cookie Run: Ovenbreak/Kingdom

Ship: Werewolf x Vampire

Characters: Lee!Werewolf, Ler!Vampire

Words: 3067

Potential Warnings: Mild angst at the beginning, mouth tickles, mentions of alcohol

They said that opposites attract, but Vampire hadn't quite believed that until recently.

Everyone liked the idea of partners that were complete opposites from each other, but nobody wanted to be in that kind of a relationship. Every time that the opportunity arose, all people did was complain about how the person didn't understand them, or about how insufferable they were. All that talk about "opposites attract" suddenly faded into bitter words and heartbreak, and everything seemed to fall apart. Vampire had always scoffed at the mention of this trope, and when prompted, he would explain his disdain for the idea of it.

At least, until he fell in love with Werewolf.

The lycanthrope had entered his life at an interesting time -- Vampire had just started rekindling his bond with Alchemist, and he was being a bit more open with everyone else about his usual philosophical thoughts. He had been out for a moonlit stroll, using the time that he was awake to be somewhat productive, and he'd bumped into Werewolf in the middle of the night.

The poor man was…distressed, to say the least. When Vampire had found him, tears were streaming down his face, and he was shaking with a wild and frantic look in his eyes. His hair was a mess, and he was horribly scratched up -- from what, Vampire did not ever find out. He had been terrified of the undead at first, but with some gentle and reassuring prompting, Werewolf wound up following Vampire back to his place. Where he’d apparently expected aggression, he had instead been treated with hospitality, given a warm meal and a comfortable bed to sleep on. There he stayed for many nights, and Vampire eventually asked him to stay. Over the time they spent living together, their bond only grew stronger.

And then, slowly, Vampire started to realize that he was falling in love with the lycanthrope. It took him by surprise, but he accepted it very quickly -- he felt no shame, only nervousness. After some consideration, he confessed this discovery to Werewolf -- and thankfully, his feelings were shyly reciprocated. Perhaps “opposites attract” was true, Vampire considered, though he still doubted the truthfulness of it.

They were quite opposite, Vampire realized as he and Werewolf started dating. Vampire, despite being tired all the time, considered himself very outgoing and friendly to those that treated him well. He enjoyed life, and all of the things it had to offer. Werewolf, on the other hand, was known for having nightmares and bursts of aggression, as well as being incredibly reclusive. He rarely talked to anyone at all, even Vampire, and he was intimidating to boot.

Vampire never quite saw Werewolf as intimidating most of the time, but he would admit that his new boyfriend was concerningly quiet. He was trying to help him open up, as he felt it was his duty as a romantic partner, but it was proving to be difficult. Of course, Werewolf didn’t have to do anything that he was uncomfortable with -- Vampire perfectly understood the concept of introverts. It was just…Werewolf rarely talked at all about what he was thinking or feeling. It made him almost impossible to read.

As a result, the wine-loving undead began to shower his boyfriend with verbal and physical affection. It took Werewolf by surprise (he wasn’t expecting it, nor was he used to it), but he very quickly accepted the attention and allowed himself to relax at least a little around his partner. He still flinched sometimes at sudden touches, and he still refused to open up about his past, but it was a start. Vampire was making progress. He began spending his nights curled up with Werewolf in his bedroom, trying to help him feel loved and cared for.

On one of those nights, Werewolf was particularly soft -- Vampire felt almost proud of himself as he carded his fingers through his love’s hair. He was lying on his side next to Werewolf, who was facing him and had his face buried in the undead’s neck. The lycanthrope’s ears were twitching ever so slightly, and his breathing was so much more calm and even than it usually was around people. Vampire had one arm tucked underneath Werewolf so that he could hold the back of his head and play with his hair, and the other arm was draped over his boyfriend’s hip. The room was full of peaceful energy, and for a moment, Vampire considered falling asleep.

Werewolf flinched suddenly, interrupting the calm moment and startling Vampire. He didn’t lean away from his boyfriend, nor did he tense back up, but he did bury his face further into Vampire’s neck and grumble unintelligibly.

“A-are you okay?” Vampire asked nervously, looking over his boyfriend to make sure that he hadn’t hurt him by accident. He checked where his hands were -- neither of them were in bad spots, but he wanted to double check. “Did I make you uncomfortable, or--”

“‘M fine,” Werewolf grumbled, not elaborating. Vampire tried to think of what to ask him next, but then he noticed something odd.

Werewolf’s ears were slightly down, but not in the much more usual tense or aggressive position. They were more in an embarrassed state -- or loving, perhaps? His tail was twitching so slightly that it almost wasn’t noticeable, and his heart was beating somewhat faster. And there was a heat in the crook of Vampire’s neck -- was he blushing? What had he done to make Werewolf blush?

He looked at the positioning of his hands one more time. One hand still had its fingers in Werewolf’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp and twisting the ends gently like it was supposed to be. The other, however, had wandered a bit from Werewolf’s hip and edged near his tail, right where it met his lower back.

Vampire had a thought that came to him like a switch flicking in his head. Moving carefully, he tapped near the base of Werewolf’s tail to test his hypothesis -- and to his delight, Werewolf’s tail thumped on the bed as he grumbled with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” the lycanthrope asked, just a little suspicious. Vampire bit back a grin and rubbed the back of his partner’s head.

"Oh, nothing," he answered unconvincingly. "Nothing at all."

Once Werewolf appeared to be less suspicious, Vampire moved the hand on his head down to his shoulders, giving him a gentle massage. When he was sure that his partner was fully relaxed, the undead lightly scratched at the base of Werewolf's tail. He wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea, and so he was prepared to stop at the drop of a hat.

Fortunately, he didn't have to -- his boyfriend's tail started wagging slowly, almost shyly. Werewolf shivered and huffed indignantly, but Vampire could feel a smile forming on his face.

"You alright there?~" Vampire asked, his question genuine despite the mischievous tone. He smiled and rubbed Werewolf's shoulders as the lycanthrope nodded.

"J-just, um…" Werewolf cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. "It...it t-tickles a little."

Vampire could not stop the awwing and cooing that came out of his mouth, nor could he stop his urge to gently scratch at Werewolf’s stomach that followed immediately after. Of course, he was light and slow -- he didn’t want to risk startling his boyfriend or making him uncomfortable at all. And yet, Werewolf did not twist away from him or object in the slightest. Much to Vampire’s delight, the lycanthrope even seemed to lean into the touch, his hidden smile growing wider.

“Vaha-- Vampire--” Werewolf huffed out, very obviously trying to stifle a laugh. Vampire flashed a toothy smile and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, continuing his gentle scratching that was slowly moving towards Werewolf’s sides. His nails lightly danced along Werewolf's skin, making him shudder at the sensation.

"Mmhmm?~" the undead hummed, his voice low and teasy as his hands found their target. Werewolf jolted slightly, surprised rather than frightened, and he clamped his arms to his sides in a half-protest. This did nothing to stop the ticklish feeling, but that wasn't his goal anyway.

"Mmnnhhehe-- Wh-whahat are you d-dohoing?--'' Werewolf managed to whisper through his growing giggles. Vampire's grin only widened, prompting a gentle forehead kiss.

"I'm tickling you, silly. What does it look like?"

The lycanthrope's face went a cute shade of carnation pink at the honest but affectionate statement. His tail began wagging faster, making a soft whump sound each time it hit the soft mattress. He wasn't completely laughing yet, but he was getting closer to doing so with each passing moment.

Vampire found the whole thing downright adorable. Slowly and delicately, his hands climbed their way up Werewolf's rib cage like a ladder, pausing every so often to go back down a few ribs and scribble gently at the spaces in between before continuing their ascent. This left Werewolf twitching back and forth, instinctively leaning away but wanting the affection enough to lean back in every time.

After about a minute of the game, the lycanthrope broke into husky but sweet-sounding laughter. Vampire quietly murmured, "There you go," before pressing another loving kiss onto Werewolf's forehead and lifting his mischievous fingers up towards his underarms. At this, Werewolf's laughter grew a little pitchy, and he buried himself further into Vampire's neck out of embarrassment for the sound of it.

"Are you still okay?" the wine-lover whispered to his boyfriend, his voice right in his ear. Werewolf's ear twitched and his giggles became frantic for a moment, then he nodded and wrapped his arms around his partner. This made for easier access to his underarms -- Vampire didn't know if this was intentional or not, but it was amusing and endearing all the same.

This continued for a little while until Vampire noticed that his boyfriend's breathing was getting a little fast and short. At this, he slowed down a bit and brought his hands all the way back to Werewolf's stomach. To his relief, the lycanthrope's breathing evened out (as much as it could as he laughed), and Vampire rubbed in between his shoulder blades in a rhythmic circle to help him calm down further. Werewolf was trembling a little, clearly unused to tickling and the emotions it brought up within him.

Vampire kissed Werewolf’s nose gently, still trailing his fingers along his boyfriend’s quivering stomach. He then decided to get a little more devious -- he carefully rolled Werewolf halfway onto his back, then began pressing feather-light kisses into his neck, jawline, and collarbone.

“Aha-- V-VahaHAmpire!” the lycanthrope tittered, the blush in his cheeks matching the shade of Vampire’s hair. The undead chuckled playfully, kissing closer to the back of his boyfriend’s neck to give him goosebumps.

“Yes, my love?~” Vampire purred in Werewolf’s ear, bringing his hands up to tickle his lower ribs. For good measure, he used his other hand to go for his partner’s upper back. Werewolf arched his spine in response, letting out something halfway between a squeal and a startled laugh. The wine-lover was very amused by this and moved his affectionate kissing to Werewolf’s cheeks -- his amusement only grew when he realized that his boyfriend’s cheeks were also apparently ticklish.

“I-Ihihi-- I-I neEHEehed to breheHeHAthe--!”

In an instant, Vampire’s hands were no longer gently scratching and were instead massaging where they were. The kisses were much less teasy and moved to different spots; one was planted on Werewolf’s nose, and the rest were slowly scattered across his forehead and scalp. The lycanthrope took a few seconds to catch his breath, let out a happy grumble, and leaned completely back into Vampire’s arms.

“Did I go too far? Too fast?” the undead asked, murmuring with a concerned tone. Werewolf shook his head and cuddled his partner close, wrapping his arms back around him.

“Noho, no, Ihi’m alright…” was his response. Vampire instantly felt relieved and smiled, planting another sweet kiss right between Werewolf’s eyebrows. He felt a sense of wonder wash over him -- he’d never seen Werewolf like this, and he wasn’t entirely sure if anyone had. His boyfriend, once so hostile and afraid, had trusted him in an intimate moment like this. Vampire was almost tearing up at the very notion of it.

After a quiet moment of lying in each other’s arms, Vampire cleared his throat. “Are you…are you done, or are you okay with just a little bit more? There’s one more thing I’d like to try, but I don’t want to overstimulate you or make you uncomfortable.”

The undead could feel the heat from his boyfriend’s face in his neck again. Werewolf’s tail, which had since calmed down and been in a resting position on the bed, began wagging with excitement and embarrassment. Vampire bit back a teasy, sarcastic remark and waited patiently for an answer -- though, he figured he already knew what it was.

“I-I’m okay with…w-with just a l-little bit more,” Werewolf sputtered, speaking quickly and almost slurring his words together. Vampire smiled softly, gave him one more kiss on the nose, and carefully scooted downwards on the bed.

The lycanthrope was naturally confused at first, as well as a little nervous. He wasn’t quite sure what Vampire was up to, and he was even more confused as his boyfriend stopped at his stomach.

“Didn’t you already--?” Werewolf began, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“I did,” Vampire interrupted, lifting his boyfriend’s shirt up, “but I wanted to try a different technique here and I didn’t get to it the first time.” He leaned in a little to Werewolf’s stomach, gently holding his sides in his hands, and looked up with a grin.

“Different technique?” Werewolf asked, the naive curiosity making him seem much more adorable than he would have liked to know.

“Mmhmm~” Vampire hummed, his tone casually playful. “Werewolf, darling, have you ever had raspberries?”

“RaspberRIEHEHEHES?!--” The lycanthrope didn’t even get a chance to finish his question before Vampire pressed his lips against the upper part of his stomach and blew. Werewolf was given a few seconds to recover before Vampire continued, blowing short raspberries all across his lower ribs, stomach, sides, and hips. Being undead, he had no need to breathe, so it was much easier for him to keep going.

“VAHAHAMPIHIHIREHE!” Werewolf shrieked, rolling onto his back from the shock of the electrical sensation. His hands waved around frantically, somewhere between grabbing Vampire’s shoulders, covering his stomach as instinctive protection, or covering his mouth to muffle his loud cackling.

“Yehehes?~” Vampire paused to ask, mocking Werewolf’s laugh. He didn’t wait for an answer before blowing another raspberry over his belly button. The lycanthrope yelped in surprise before falling back helplessly into his loud and uncontrollable mirth, now resigned to clutching onto the pillow that he was laying on as if for dear life.

Not wanting to accidentally kill his boyfriend, the undead attempted to make his raspberries less intense and paused in between them. Following this decision, each time that he blew a raspberry, he’d be rewarded with a hiccupy laugh that only seemed to pause for a second. He found this hilarious but didn’t say anything about it -- he wanted Werewolf to keep at least some dignity.

After about another minute, maybe less, Vampire felt a light swat on his shoulder. He stopped immediately, figuring that Werewolf couldn’t take anymore but wasn’t able to say it with the state that he was in. The wine-lover sat up on the bed, ready to ask if he’d accidentally gone too far -- but at the sight of Werewolf’s face, the words melted on his tongue.

The lycanthrope looked like a mess. His hair was wild and somewhat tangled, his eyes were glossed over and unfocused, and his cheeks were beet red. He was catching his breath, and there was a dazed smile still plastered onto his face. His tail was wagging, slowly but happily, his ears were skewed and slightly flattened, and all of his tension had apparently fallen away. Vampire found himself speechless and opted instead to scoot back up and lie down, pulling Werewolf into his arms once more. They both laid there for a while, Werewolf catching his breath and regaining his composure while his partner played gently with his hair.

“That was…” Werewolf began, breaking the silence before trailing off.

“Different?” The undead offered, smiling sweetly.

“Different,” Werewolf confirmed with a soft chuckle. “Not…not bad, though. It was nice.”

“I was afraid that I went a little overboard there with the raspberries,” Vampire admitted, squeezing his boyfriend a little bit tighter. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, though -- I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

Werewolf smiled at the final statement, almost flattered. “You didn’t go overboard, don’t worry,” he assured Vampire. “You stopped exactly when I needed you to.”

“That’s a relief to hear…” There was a pause in the conversation, and then a stray thought crossed the undead’s mind. “You know, if you ever want me to do that again, all you have to do is ask. I’d be more than willing to, if it makes you happy.”

Werewolf only responded with a whine before burying his face back into Vampire’s neck. “Awh, you poor, flustered thing!~” Vampire teased, rubbing the back of his boyfriend’s head and returning his other arm back to where it was originally -- draped over Werewolf’s hips.

Neither of them said anything else after that. Werewolf was too tired and too embarrassed to say much else, and Vampire was enjoying the peaceful moment. Werewolf was the first one to drift off, falling into a deep slumber that he would wake from feeling refreshed.

Vampire stayed awake for just a little bit longer, watching his sweetheart’s chest heave in a slow and steady tempo. The last thought that he had before succumbing to sleep was that he never wanted to leave the moment -- or, at least, he wanted to continue to have these sweet moments with Werewolf. He was warm, he was content, and he was at peace. It was all he’d ever wanted out of a relationship, and it was what the lycanthrope wanted as well. This was the closest feeling to heaven that either of them would reach.

Vampire was okay with that. As long as he had Werewolf, and as long as they had moments like this, he’d be the happiest undead in the world. Perhaps…opposites really do attract.

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