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happyandticklish · 1 year ago

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Reluctant Muse

Notes: Commission for @ticklishraspberries. Thank you so, so much for being patient as I worked on this through finals and getting back into the flow of my normal life, you’re seriously amazing and I’ve loved having you as such a loyal customer, even if it is to fuel our mutual love for conguel lol. This fic is set somewhere during their college years, and I had a lot of fun getting to explore all the little details of their lives together <3 I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Connor’s growing interest in art holds unanticipated consequences for Miguel.

The fascination had started as doodles, drawn miscellaneously on the margins of his notebook or the palm of his hand when Connor was bored in class. Back then, Miguel was still a stranger to Connor, but he sat next to the other in class and watched him as the clock ticked by slower and slower by the minute. Somehow, watching him made mind-numbing lectures far easier to withstand. Miguel’s gaze would follow the swirling structures climbing up the boy’s wrists that always ended in an explosion of some sort in his palm, whether that be a skull cracking open or fire licking up his fingers. Everything with him had been violent like that back then.

By the time Miguel finally got to know him, the doodles had evolved into sketches. This period of art was more realistic. It seemed that anything and everything was a subject of focus for Connor’s imagination, and Miguel would peek over at his notebook from time to time to find gardens, trees, buildings, landscapes, and, most importantly, people, etched out in shaky pencil. People had become his favorite subject senior year. He liked to capture the emotions on their faces, the hidden pains and joys that fell through the cracks of perception for most. Miguel had tried to question him further about it, but Connor was cagey with his art. He suspected it was because he was worried that talking about it would ruin it somehow—ruin the the sanctity of the hobby.

He had drawn Miguel once too. Maybe more than once, but Connor had made sure to keep his art tucked away after Miguel had caught a glimpse of that first picture. He still remembered the flush of Connor’s ears when he had pointed it out. “Well, you’re around a lot,” Connor had mumbled at the time, not defensively at all. “It would be weird not to draw you.”

Then, time had gone on, and shared looks had become a kiss and high school had turned into several classes at a local community college in their area. Miguel was attending a nearby university (he had been offered something farther away, but he didn’t want to think about the prospect of leaving their little town), and the two would meet up after classes to grab lunch or dinner or coffee and talk. Miguel would share trivia about the latest old English or Scandinavian town he was learning about in this or that history class and Connor would shyly pipe in with a note or two about whatever new technique he had learned—always from Professor Simmons’ class.

Simmons was an old, sarcastic man with a wispy grey head of hair that always stuck out in the back as though he had just woken up on it. Miguel had met him a few times while coming to pick Connor up from classes. He was eccentric in a way that was perfect for an art teacher and strange to see in anyone over the age of sixty. Connor loved him though, and Miguel loved Connor, so he listened with rapt attention as Connor rambled on about him.

“So monochromatic is all one color, right? Which means it’s important to play around with layers and shading as you go along, which can be a bitch if you’re working with oil paints.” Connor reached into his bag, pulling out a sketchbook whose edges were torn from use. He flipped open to a page where half of a young girl around the age of six was detailed in varying shades of purple. “See, the trick is giving the illusion of depth by playing around with perspective, as there’s no natural transition between colors.”

Miguel carefully twisted the pad to face himself, squinting at the crinkled eyes in the photo. “Is that Zoe? As a little girl?”

He was worried he had said something wrong for a moment from the way Connor went silent, but when he looked up. Connor was blushing. He picked neatly at the rips in his jeans. “I found the photo back at home when I was visiting this winter. I thought it might be nice for her to have. You know. Solidify old memories and all that.”

Warmth flooded Miguel’s chest, but he bit back his grin at the last moment, settling for a fond smile instead. The relationship between the Murphy siblings was still a tenuous one, but it was getting better with time. They talked to each other now, and sometimes he could have sworn that Zoe looked genuinely excited when he would accompany Connor home. That being said, Connor didn’t like to talk about it that much, so Miguel felt it was best to let it go for now and let him have his moment.

Eventually, by each of their sophomore years, Connor’s interest had transferred to a new canvas—people.

“Do you really need to practice on me?” Miguel asked, arching a brow as Connor perused the selection of markers strewn around the carpet. Even as he protested, Miguel bunched up his sleeve to his shoulder, leaving his bicep on down exposed for whatever Connor had planned for him. In truth, he was slightly excited that Connor had chosen him as his latest work of art. He felt strangely honored by it. “I hardly think a tattoo is going to work the same as a Sharpie.”

“You have to sketch the design out first anyway,” Connor muttered distractedly. He finally stumbled across a normal black Sharpie, holding it up triumphantly as he turned back towards the other. “Besides, I’m running out of space on myself—I need fresh skin.”

Exotic colors spiraled up Connor’s arms and legs as evidence for this. The cool, September weather was still warm enough that it necessitated shorts, and Miguel forced his eyes away from the trail of languid fish swimming up Connor’s thigh. “You know, I don’t appreciate being your guinea pig.”

Connor snorted, gently taking Miguel’s arm and settling it into his lap. They both pretended not to notice the wave of goosebumps that scattered up Miguel’s arm at the touch. “Please. You love being my guinea pig.”

“Fair argument. How about some middle ground? I get to pick the design.”

“Not a chance—I want this to look good, remember?”

Miguel barely had a chance to be mock offended at the statement before the cool marker tip touched down on the skin of his shoulder. It was an odd sensation. Not bad, per se, but weird, and Miguel couldn’t help but tense up as Connor circled small little bubbles over his shoulder.

“You okay?” Connor asked, but his eyes weren’t on Miguel as he fell into that scarily intense focus he went into while working with his art. Miguel would normally be jealous at the lack of attention, but as the marker squiggled quickly down his arm he was grateful that Connor wasn’t looking at him.

“Just cold, is all.””

“Sorry. I’ll try to be careful.”

Miguel gripped the carpet as the seconds went by, forcing his features into a stoic mask that he didn’t feel. The marker didn’t just feel weird—it tickled. Not enough to push him to laugh, but enough that he was having difficulty staying still. He closed his eyes when the felt tip skated around his inner elbow, biting back a small grin.

Fuck.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, hoping he sounded far more nonchalant to Connor than he did to himself. The secrecy of this wasn’t entirely necessary, but the reality that Miguel was ticklish had not yet entered their lives and he wasn’t eager to speed up the process. He had sent Connor into far too many shrieking fits of laughter to bring up the possibility of revenge now.

Connor did look at him then and Miguel flushed. “I’m nowhere near done, I just started. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting awfully…” Connor squinted. “Fidgety.”

“The marker’s cold,” Miguel managed, the protest half-hearted and weak even to his own ears. Connor kept looking at him for a moment longer but eventually decided that whatever Miguel was lying about wasn’t dire enough that he needed to get to the bottom of it now. The marker touched back down on his arm and Miguel inhaled sharply, clenching his fist.

When the marker darted inside his elbow after several minutes of this subdued torture, Miguel briefly considered snatching it out of Connor’s hands to snap it in half. It squiggled and spiraled and scribbled quickly around the area, forcing a stupidly huge grin to jerk its way onto Miguel’s face. His arm trembled from the effort of keeping it in place. If he could just bend it, even a little…

“Tickle?”

Miguel froze. He snapped his head up to look at Connor, but the other boy was too absorbed in his task to meet his gaze. He coughed, his throat suddenly very dry. “I’m sorry?”

“At first I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining it, so I just kept going over the same area to see if I was right. I didn’t even realize someone could be ticklish there, but you were squirming an awful lot for a cold marker.”

He spoke softly and casually as if Miguel wasn’t slowly burning his way through the floor out of embarrassment. The worst part was, he was still going over that damned spot, leaving Miguel no way to protest the fact when his arm kept twitching insistently against the marker’s path.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, trying and failing to match Connor’s relaxed attitude. “A little, I guess. It’s just hard to stay still when you go lightly like that.”

“Hmm.”

The marker squiggled once more in the area and Miguel bit his lip, his eyes squinting shut as he endured the gentle sensation. Now that his theory had been proven, Connor’s lips were ticked up into a half-grin. Miguel was amusing him. Normally, this was a good thing. Now, it made Miguel want to crawl inside of himself.

Experimentally, Connor began on a swooping flower design down his forearm, a quick, featherlight touch that made Miguel scrunch a bit into himself as he held back a laugh. The strokes were definitely quicker now and clearly intended to tickle as opposed to before, but Connor wasn’t mocking him as he’d suspected. Instead, he was staring down at his arm as if transfixed, his eyes following each twitch and subtle movement of Miguel’s arm in his lap.

“It’s cute,” he said after a while, and Miguel noticed a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks, which caused Miguel to blush in turn. He was the one being tickled after all—if anyone should be embarrassed, it should be Miguel, not Connor.

“Yeah, right,” Miguel scoffed, but he had to admit that the words set him more at ease. So much so that he almost laughed when Connor began to color in the petals along his wrist. Almost. “It’s embarrassing is what it is.”

“Is it embarrassing that I’m ticklish?”

“What?” Miguel wrinkled his brow. “No. It’s adorable how easy it gets you worked up.”

“Then, the same applies to you.”

Miguel opened his mouth to retort back before realizing he really didn’t have a reply to that. He settled on staring out the sunny window across from them, his mouth sent into a scowl that was so fake it was almost comical. “You know, you’re not allowed to use my own logic against me.”

“Ah, is that how it is?”

Miguel almost replied before noticing the other’s grin. His own blush amplified—he wasn’t used to Connor being the one to mess with him. But Connor seemed to take on a new confidence while drawing, almost as if the talent was serving as a shield. Here, he was not merely Connor, but an artist. And artists, evidently, had no qualms about teasing their much bigger, much stronger boyfriends.

Miguel kind of liked it.

After that, these little drawing sessions of theirs grew more and more frequent. After a few months, Connor had acquired a gig working under a real tattoo artist and no longer needed the amateur practice, but they both continued the charade for what Miguel suspected were very similar reasons.

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying.”

“Well, try harder.”

Muffled giggles spilled throughout the dim room as Connor’s paintbrush carefully drew across the line of Miguel’s bare hip. A small lamp on Miguel’s desk provided them with light against the overbearing darkness outside. Miguel’s roommates were out of town, so the apartment remained blessedly empty aside from the two of them. They had been alone together before on many occasions and had done almost everything they could without veering too much out of their comfort zones, but this still felt more intimate somehow. Miguel’s shirt was rucked up to his chest, Connor’s fingers tucked into the hem of his jeans to reveal the soft edge of his hip, and his face was flushed a dizzying pink from his drunken laughter.

Miguel usually had to be either drunk or high for these sessions. Without the mental lubricant, he never would have dared to ask for this.

“Does it really tickle that much?” Connor asked, a touch of genuine incredulity creeping into his voice. “I’m barely even touching you.”

Miguel wasn’t confident in his abilities to verbally communicate, so instead he nodded, huffing out a tense laugh when the brush skated underneath the bone. It was somehow worse to watch it happen, so instead he closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the sensation. The cold burn of the paint. The soft stroke of the brush. The warmth of Connor’s fingers pressed like an iron against his skin. He felt light and jittery all at once, like electricity was running through his skin. His hands were gripped in the sheets so that they didn’t come flying down to his defense.

He could practically feel Connor’s eyes on him, though his own vision was obscured by the milky blackness of his eyelids.

“Where do you want me to go?”

Without speaking, Miguel reached down and patted around for Connor’s wrist. When he found it, he gently dragged it, and the paintbrush in turn, up to the trembling skin of his stomach. He heard a soft chuckle in response.

“You must really want this tonight, huh?”

He didn’t have to respond, a fact Miguel appreciated. Once Connor had found out that he was ticklish, Miguel had realized that any tickle fights that cropped up between them had grown wildly uneven. Then, Miguel squirmed and laughed and begged and got revenge like any other boyfriend who didn’t have a quickly growing obsession with the concept. But in these moments, he didn’t have to protest and pretend like he wasn’t loving every second of what was happening. In these moments, Connor could drown him in sweet teases and loving touches that made his mind blur, and all Miguel had to do was lay there and take it. It was usually the moment that Miguel finally broke his vow of silence that Connor knew it was time to draw things to an end.

He tensed when the brush skated across his stomach, a grin fluttering nervously at his lips. His hand fled Connor’s wrist to find refuge in a blanket once more, the ticklish sensations already digging at his self-control. Over the past few months, they had discovered a plethora of ticklish spots that even Miguel himself hadn’t known about, but none had been quite so bad as his stomach.

A breath of a laugh escaped him as Connor began sly circles around the area, a horrendously sensitive cycle that only seemed to get worse as it went on. He let himself sit there, however, needing it to tickle tonight. It had been too long since the last time they’d done this and Miguel was starving.

However, after a minute or two of this same strategy, whimpers began to join in the giggles as Miguel’s hips started to buck in protest.

“If it tickles too much, I can always stop.”

Miguel’s leg came up and lightly knocked Connor in the side, a pleading don’t you dare and an annoyed shut up. Connor’s eyebrow ticked up slightly at the jab and it sent butterflies swarming throughout Miguel’s stomach.

“Oh, is that how you’re gonna play it?”

The teasing circles were replaced by quick, swift strokes that broke down the last of Miguel’s defenses and sent torrents of stuttered laughter falling out at last. “You’re in far too ticklish of a situation to be getting cocky now. Ah, ah, ah, don’t bring your hand down now. You might accidentally do something stupid with it like try to stop me.”

It was both amazing and infuriating how the only times Connor seemed able to get the word out without turning into a blushing fool was when he was set on teasing Miguel.

Still, Miguel’s hand obediently went back up and he forced himself to stay as still as possible, allowing the gentle tickles to overload his brain before tomorrow’s sobriety would ruin the moment with overdue waves of embarrassment.

It was nearly four months into this tradition of theirs before Miguel was able to finally turn the tables.

Connor was staying late in the studio that night to finish up a project that was due, and Miguel had been sent as the ambassador of their little friend group to force him to turn in for the night so he didn’t pass out from exhaustion. It was nearing late March by then, but winter had refused to give up its grip on the weather and so Miguel was still sporting a snug flannel and a hot chocolate clasped in his hands that was his peace offering in case Connor was difficult.

The lights were still on when he walked in, unfortunately. Connor was sitting curled up in a chair by the window, a half-finished page of sketches open on the table in front of him.

“Connor.”

“Five more minutes, they can start the movie without me.”

“It is well past that by now. I’m here to make sure you find your way into a bed at some point.”

Connor snorted half-heartedly at that, which was a good sign, unlike his gaze which had refused to lift off of his paper. “Are you hoping it’ll be yours?”

“I’m hoping it’ll be any if it means you won’t fall asleep in the middle of your classes again.”

Connor did pause at that. His pencil hesitated over the page as he debated the pros and cons of listening to his boyfriend. “Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes and I’ll promise I’ll head out, really.”

Miguel sighed. He set the hot chocolate down on a table far enough away that a spill wouldn’t cause a mental breakdown and came to sit beside Connor. He gripped the edges of the sketchpad and carefully pried it out of Connor’s reluctant hands.

“Miguel—”

“You can get your ten more minutes, but they have to be on my terms.”

Connor wrinkled his brow at him only for his confusion to deepen when Miguel snatched up an errant pen on the table, snagging Connor’s arm as well. He carefully rolled up the other’s sleeves, grateful that Connor seemed transfixed enough by the sudden touch to not question his actions. It was only when he uncapped the pen and placed the tip down upon bare skin that Connor finally got the hint. He started to tug on his trapped arm, but Miguel was far stronger than him under normal circumstances and now he had a point to prove.

“No, c’mon—this isn’t fair!”

“You’re just getting your ten minutes, that’s all.” Miguel smirked up at him. “It’s not my fault that you didn’t specify whether the canvas had to be paper or not.”

Connor’s giggles were already filling the room, wild, breathy things that made Miguel’s heart catch in his throat. Unlike Miguel, whose laughter had to be carefully coaxed into the open, Connor’s laughter was infectious and impossible to hold back no matter how much the brooding future artist wanted to.

“It tihihickles!”

“I believe I’ve made that same argument about this same spot many a time before, and yet you have never once shown any sympathy.”

“That’s different, I was practicing—oh my god, Miguel, cut it out!”

The giggles were wild and free now as the pen began to squiggle over the center of his palm. Connor was half-heartedly pulling away, but it was clear he did not mind as much as he was insisting. Still, he held up the petty act no matter how obvious of a lie it was. “I need to get this homework done.”

“You need sleep,” Miguel reiterated. “If you come with me now, I’ll stop. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll have to serve as my canvas for your whole ten minutes.”

“That’s hahardly fahahair!”

“You’re right, ten minutes isn’t nearly enough time for the design I have in mind. Let’s make it twenty~”

Eventually, Connor did get his revenge, weeks later after Miguel had entirely forgotten about the event, but it was well worth it to pull a giggly, sleepy Connor Murphy into his car later that night to drive back to his apartment for a night of well-deserved rest.

#tickle fic #conguel #dear evan hansen #connor murphy #miguel #tickling #fanfiction #commission #commissions

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awkwardlyflustered · 1 year ago

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Careful What You Wish For

Tickletober Day 1: Anticipation

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

A/N: Alright, it is finally happening, I’m doing (attempting) Tickletober. As always, thank you so much to @august-anon for doing the prompts. They are so horribly adorable, I love them. Anyways, we’ll see how this all goes. There’s a lot of days I’m super excited about and a lot of days I’m worried about doing well with. So without further ado, enjoy!

It all started small, barely noticeable. Evan kissing the spot on his neck that sent shivers down his spine, leaving his hand on the spot that makes Connor tense up, little wiggling fingers as they waved each other off to classes. Connor noticed it of course, but thought it was just a small coincidence, so he brushed it off, trying to calm the slight pink in his cheeks. He was still smiling and running through the “events” of the day when Evan came up behind him and slotted his fingers in between his ribs. Connor sucked in a quick breath and froze up, smiling a little wider knowing what was coming. Well… he thought he knew what was coming. He stood waiting for the fingers to start buzzing into the sensitive spaces, but it never came. Just as he started to open his mouth to say something, Evan leaned up to his ear and whispered in a way that sent shivers throughout his entire body, “Wait for it.” With that, he took his hands away, smirking, knowing just how much he dumbfounded Connor.

Connor stood there in shock, unable to think, move, or speak. His eyes wider than saucers, and his mouth uselessly stuttering as Evan just chuckled at him.

“Come on babe, it’s time to go.” Connor managed to shake off his shock well enough to follow Evan outside, but the flustered blush made its way back onto his face. “I think I should do that to you more often, pink is a good color on you,” he teased, giving a quick peck to his boyfriend’s cheek. Conor just glared at him and tried to mumble out a retort, but ultimately failed.

The two started their trek back to Connor’s house, which was very empty at the moment, and they intended to take full advantage of that. The longer they walked, the more excited Connor got. All the way there, Evan would “accidentally” start up his teasing again, and all over again Connor would be a blushing mess. The hand on his waist with the fingers pinched right up against his hips and not moving. The fingers lightly trailing along the back of his neck, but never enough to tickle, just enough to make him jittery. Every little thing Evan did got Connor jumping and smiling, anxiously awaiting the second they walked through the door. He was absolutely certain that Evan was going to damn near tackle him to the door and take him apart, piece by piece. Surely, Evan wouldn’t make this worse than it already was, right?

The two finally made it back to the Murphy residence, and Connor was practically buzzing with excitement. They walked in, and immediately Evan grabbed him and led him over to the couch. Connor happily laid down, and even put his arms up for him. Evan straddled his ever eager boyfriend, and held his hand just a few centimeters away from his tummy.

“You know, I really think this needs to go, don’t you?” He asked, picking at the fabric covering his tummy. Connor didn’t say anything, just laid there, waiting for what he wanted. Evan took his time, slowly rolling Connor’s shirt up. Connor squirmed, unable to help himself. “Hmmm, now where to start?” Evan questioned, smirking at Connor as he groaned. “There’s this beautiful tummy,” he started, gently putting his fingers on his tummy. Connor sucked in his stomach smiling. “Ah ah ah,” he tsked, “wait for it.” Connor groaned, and glared at Evan. He was really starting to hate that phrase.

“Evaaaaaan,” he whined out, wanting nothing more than to just start. Evan simply ignored the whining with a smile.

“Or there is always your wonderful ribs,” he slowly climbed his fingers up to the bones jutting out of his abdomen. Connor bit his lip, desperately trying to keep himself from giggling before anything had even started. “And of course, there is always these hips that would be so fun, hmm?” Finally, Connor just couldn’t take it anymore.

“EVAN!” He screamed out, finally giving in, “Please just tickle me already!”

“Careful what you wish for.”

With that, Evan began scribbling under Connor’s arms, making him absolutely scream with laughter.

“WAHAHAHAIT PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE” He begged out, not ready to already have his worst spot being targeted.

“Awww what’s wrong, love? I thought you wanted this. In fact you asked me for it,” He teased out, never ceasing the tickling. Connor couldn’t even respond, just kick his feet out and squeal with delight at the feeling wracking his nerves.

Evan decided to grant just a little bit of mercy to the poor, ticklish boy and moved his fingers down to pinch at his sides. Granted, he couldn’t make it too easy so, naturally, he started blowing raspberries into his tummy. Connor squealed and giggled like a little kid.

“Ehehehehehevahahahahan!” Evan couldn’t help but smile into Connor’s tummy at hearing him. He was just so cute, he couldn’t stand it. Connor gave up at trying to keep his arms up, and just grabbed onto his wrists, slowly losing his ability to fight and squirm away.

The two of them carried on like this for a few more minutes. Connor lying there, effortlessly giggling at the tickles he was receiving, and Evan unable to stop smiling at just how cute his boyfriend was. Eventually, though, the tickling slowed to a stop and Evan climbed off the taller boy.

“Enjoy yourself?” He asked, helping Connor sit up and get resituated. Connor nodded eagerly.

“Of course I did, but teasing me all day was mean, and you know it.”

“Oh trust me, I know. But what’s the point of tickling you straight away all the time, hmm? Sometimes there has to be a little bit of anticipation, makes it fun.”

“I’ll remember that,” Connor warned, teasingly putting his fingers in between the slots of Evan’s ribs, mirroring the events from earlier. Evan, refusing to lose the battle he started, simply reached down and began squeezing at Connor’s knees. Connor, having absolutely no ability to fight back when tickled doubled over and accepted his fate for the second time of many more that day.

#augtickletober2023 #tickletober #tickletober 2023 #Dear Evan Hansen #DEH #Lee!Connor #Ler!Evan #sorry there's not much actually tickling #I had half of an idea and then panic threw together a fic

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ticklishraspberries · 2 years ago

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Giggly Glam (Connor, Zoe)

Summary: Connor buys himself makeup, then realizes he has no idea how to do makeup. Zoe tries to help. (Take this Connor lives and gets to heal his relationship with his sister thing I wrote. No one asked me to, I just have an obsession with this stupid fandom. Enjoy it or else /lh.)

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to buy it. He’d only gone into the beauty aisle to buy a new bottle of black nail polish, and had somehow ended up picking out a few cheap makeup products. It was a completely impulsive, stupid decision, and if Connor had an ounce of sense, he’d turn back around and return it all.

But he didn’t. Instead, he decided to use it as an olive branch, or whatever the saying was. You see, almost dying had sort of knocked some sense into his head. Well, that plus some therapy, and seeing the looks that Zoe kept shooting him across the table at dinner.

So, maybe when he got back from the hospital, he’d made a whole big scene about how sorry he was for the way he’d acted towards her, towards them all, and maybe he’d cried harder than he had in years, and clung to his mom like a scared child on the first day of school.

Yeah, looking back, that had been pretty embarrassing. But it had shattered the layer of ice between him and his family, which he supposed was a good thing. He just hadn’t worked up the courage to dip into that murky water again, afraid he’d do something stupid like cry again, or make it worse by clamming up and telling his sister to fuck off like he would have a few months prior.

But a gift? It was an olive branch, he supposed. Not an apology, not an explanation, but it was something. So when he got home, he went right up to Zoe’s door and knocked.

“Come in,” she replied, and she looked surprised when it was Connor who entered, not her mother. “What do you want?”

Her tone wasn’t overly harsh, just a tad annoyed, mostly confused. Connor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, I got you something. At the store. I don’t know if you even really wear makeup, but I just…Yeah. Here you go.”

He placed the bag on her dresser, and turned to leave, but paused when she spoke.

“Makeup?” Zoe asked, standing up off of her bed and walking over, snatching up the bag and looking inside. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t wear it that much, but it’s good to have.”

Connor nodded. “Cool.”

“Why though?”

“Why what?”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “I can’t remember the last time you got me a gift. At least, one that wasn’t clearly bought by mom, who put your name on the label. So why?”

Connor shrugged. “I mean, honestly, I bought it on impulse and realized I was never gonna use it, so I gave it to you. Not very thought out, I guess. Do I get points for trying?” he asked, his tone light although there was a pit of anxiety in his stomach. He still wasn’t used to talking to Zoe like this; normal, casual conversation wasn’t really his forte.

“You got it for yourself?” Zoe asked. “Why wouldn’t you wear it?”

“Cause I get called gay at school for wearing nail polish, I think eyeliner would be pushing my luck,” he replied. When she didn’t seem amused, he continued, “Plus, I have no idea how to use any of it.”

“Where do you think I learned it? It’s not some inherent skill that comes with being a woman. Look up a tutorial online or something,” she said. “Fuck what kids at school think.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. God, could he not get through one conversation without being an asshole? He opened his mouth to apologize, but it got stuck somewhere in his throat and wouldn’t come out. It was like every time he tried to swallow his pride, he fucking choked on it.

Zoe just rolled her eyes. “I was gonna offer to just show you myself, but if you’re gonna be a dick, I’ll just keep my secrets to myself.”

“What do you mean show me? I’m not just gonna sit here and watch you do your own makeup,” he said.

“I could do it for you. I mean, I’m not great at it, but at least you’d get an idea of what it’s supposed to look like. And if you don’t like how it looks, I’ll keep the makeup and we can pretend this never happened.”

Connor thought about it for a moment, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I guess. Uh, thanks. And sorry for, um, snapping at you.”

“Whatever,” Zoe replied, but she had a small smile on her face. Almost fond. “Sit on my bed. Wait, but take your shoes off first.”

He obeyed wordlessly, feeling incredibly strange. Zoe’s room had changed a lot since they were kids. The walls that had once been covered in stickers of flowers and photos of boy band members were now decorated much more tastefully, although Harry Styles was still making an appearance. Her twin bed had been upgraded to a full-sized one, and it was in the middle of the room rather than pushed against the wall like it had once been. Her sheets were no longer Disney princess themed, but rather soft blue ones with stars on them.

As he sat down, Zoe began peeling plastic off of each makeup product: A stick of black eyeliner, and a palette of four eyeshadows, in varying shades of purple, and a tube of mascara.

“Just your eye makeup, or do you want a full glam?”

Connor furrowed his brows at her, chuckling. “Full glam? Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

She placed the products on the bed, then went back over to her dresser to grab a cup of brushes. “Your first mistake was thinking that the little wand this eyeshadow comes with would be enough,” she said. “You’re lucky that mom keeps buying me sets of brushes for every holiday.”

“Every holiday?”

“Every. Holiday. Three Hanukkahs in a row, two birthdays. So many brushes.”

Connor snorted. “I guess she thinks you wear ‘full glam’ every day,” he said, putting air quotes around the phrase she’d used, which made her chuckle.

She sat down on the bed beside him, her tongue poking between her teeth as she thought. “Okay, I think I’ll do your eyeshadow first…Just close your eyes and try to sit still,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, shutting his eyes as he was told, and he heard her shuffling around with the products.

After a moment, he could feel her hand hovering in front of him, and braced for impact, ever so dramatic. A somewhat flat, stiff brush touched his eyelid, and his face twitched despite his best efforts. He got it under control quickly, the sensation surprisingly easy to get used to.

“So, I’m putting the lighter color on your lid right now,” Zoe explained. “And after, I’m gonna use the darker one sort of, like, around it.”

“Sounds fancy,” he replied.

Zoe snorted, using her other hand to hold the side of his face, keeping him in place. Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to his sister, or shared this much physical contact with her. It was weird, but it somehow felt natural, still so familiar. Her fingertips were rough from guitar string scars, and her hands were steady.

He heard her switching the brush, presumably also switching the color. The heel of her hand pressed against his jaw as she continued.

The brush was much fluffier than the last, and she was doing it so lightly, it felt like an annoying itch, and he scrunched his face up on instinct.

“Stay still,” she reminded him.

He huffed, but attempted to comply. He managed to keep his composure for a bit, but as the brush stroked against his face, turning the outer corner of his left eye the striking color of artificial grape candy, the feeling turned from an annoying itch to a feather-light sensation.

Connor couldn’t help it; he giggled, turning his face away from her.

“Stop moving!” Zoe said, retracting her hand.

“I can’t help it!” he replied. “It…feels weird.”

She ignored him and attempted to continue, but when the brush touched his skin again, he giggled again.

“Does it tickle?” Zoe asked, sounding almost incredulous. “There’s no way your face is ticklish.”

He felt his cheeks turn hot, and scowled. “Shut up,” he said, knowing he had no argument that would convince her that she was wrong.

Zoe’s lips twitched.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.”

She lost it, starting to giggle herself. “I’m sorry, but it is funny.”

Normally embarrassment felt white-hot, a rage-inducing humiliation that sent him running for the hills or taking out his anger on whoever was closest, a pit in his stomach. He was expecting that feeling to surface at that moment, but all he could feel was the color in his face and Zoe’s gaze on him.

Maybe it was because there were very few things his sister hadn’t witnessed: She knew him when he was still a gap-toothed child that was afraid of bugs, or when he grew into a pre-teen with braces and a constantly cracking voice.

So, instead of freaking out, he just glared at her half-heartedly. “Whatever.”

“Are you gonna survive if I continue?” she asked, grinning.

He rolled his eyes but nodded, bracing himself for the brush to return. He managed to sit still for the rest of the process, perhaps by sheer willpower or because Zoe was using a firmer touch to spare him some dignity.

“I’m kind of terrified of poking your eye out if I do your mascara,” she said to fill the silence. “Or eyeliner. I’ve never done it on anyone else.”

“Very reassuring,” he muttered.

All the brushes were away from his face, but he kept his eyes shut in case she went back, which was apparently a mistake, as Zoe had taken his sass as a chance to poke him in the ribs, making him flinch and huff out a laugh.

“I can’t believe I forgot you were ticklish,” she said.

“Please forget again,” he replied. “And, if I remember correctly, you are too. I’m not above revenge.”

Zoe laughed. “Okay, truce. But it’s nice to see you smile again.”

The sincerity of her statement made Connor freeze up, just for a moment. He was wading into foreign territory enough, but genuine conversation was almost too much. “Uh, thanks. I think?”

“Sorry, I just—You know, it’s just been a while since…” she trailed off.

“I know.”

She nodded, twirling the eyeliner pencil between her fingers. “So, do you trust me to not blind you?”

“...Not really, but fuck it.”

It turned out that Connor really rocked the color purple, and he loved the way that black eyeliner looked on him, and Zoe offered to show him how to do it himself next time.

He left his sister’s room and walked down the hallway with a giddy feeling in his stomach, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It occurred to him that he had really missed his sister, no matter how hard he’d ignored it in the past. They still had a lot to work on, but Connor felt like something healed in them both that day, and it was all thanks to an impulsive purchase.

#deh fic #deh ticklefic #deh tickle fic #dear evan hansen fic #dear evan hansen fanfic #dear evan hansen #connor and zoe #connor murphy #zoe murphy #connor & zoe #connor and zoe murphy #murphy siblings #ticklish!connor murphy #ticklefic #tickle fic #deh #raspberry writes

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raspberriesarchive · 1 year ago

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— dear evan hansen !!

drabble tag || headcanon tag

caught (connor x miguel, zoe) - zoe comes home to find that her brother has snuck someone over. alt link: ao3.

clingy (connor x evan) - connor is reluctant to let go of evan while cuddling; evan finds a way to persuade him.

doodles (alana x zoe) - zoe doodles when she's bored. sometimes alana becomes her canvas. // alt link: ao3.

exceptions (connor x evan x jared) - jared isn’t affectionate, or easily embarrassed. except when it comes to his boyfriends.

giggly glam (connor, zoe) - connor buys himself makeup, then realizes he has no idea how to do makeup. zoe tries to help. // alt link: ao3.

music to my ears (connor x evan) - connor doesn’t laugh half as much as evan thinks he should, so he makes it his mission to change this.

sensitive skin (connor x evan) - evan’s cast is finally off, and connor is glad to have a new patch of skin to touch.

tactics (connor x evan x jared) - connor has his methods of getting jared’s attention.

‘til our ribs get tough (connor x miguel) - connor and miguel go out for a nighttime drive. // alt link: ao3.

what that mouth do?��(evan x zoe) - zoe gives evan raspberries. that's it, that's the plot.

zen (connor x miguel) - connor’s always cracking different parts of his body, and miguel offers a different solution to his soreness. // alt link: ao3.

#tickle fics #ticklishraspberries #dear evan hansen

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brotn · 1 year ago

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just saw a playlist for max from sam & max that had mitski and mother mother in it... he would not fucking listen to that

#you've heard of the 'he would not fucking say that' now get ready for 'he would not fucking listen to that'#anyway #it just tickled me #like #aw yes the violent rabbit thing would adore the dear evan hansen soundtrack

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nimbusghoul · 1 year ago

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Prompts/Fandoms for Asks!

I will say i cANNOT write angst for the life of me, and this is not the extent of my list!! Im always looking for ideas.

Fandoms!!

I will add to this as i remember more!

COD, Ghost BC/The Band Ghost, Arcane, Slashers!!(Will put a list of slashers I know below, let me know if you don’t see one you like!), Supernatural, Criminal Minds, Hotline Miami, Supernatural, FNaF, Moon Knight, Webtoons!(Will list the ones i know below the slashers), MHA, Ride The Cyclone, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Six, Hadestown, MCU, The Walten Files, Creepypasta(I am cringe but i am free), Inside Job, Beetlejuice(Musical), Danganronpa, Redacted ASMR, The Walking Dead, DC comics, Scott Pilgrim(Movie AND comics), SCP, Gorillaz, Welcome Home, Sally Face, Kingdom Hearts, Mystic Messenger, Obey Me, Helltaker

Slasher list

Michael Myers, Carrie White, Ghostface(All), Billy Lenz, Thomas Hewitt, Art the Clown, Pennywise(I am cringe but i am free x2), Jason Vorhees, Freddy Krueger, The Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, Harry Warden, Patrick Bateman, Pearl(YOUNGER VERSION ONLY, Mia Goth is hot okay?), The Sinclairs, Hannibal Lecter, Jennifer Check, Pinhead

(Let me know if i missed any you like!!)

Webtoon List

Let’s Play, Acception, Monsters & Girls, Gourmet Hound, Acception, Miracle Simulator, Down to Earth, Lore Olympus, The Devil is a Handsome Man.

Please recommend me some more webtoons you enjoy! I would love to try them!

Fluff

A)Scary Movie Night

B)Sleepy Morning

C)Family Dinner

D)Festival Date

E)Camping Date

F)Teaching(How to cook, languages, can go either ways and you can choose the material)

G)Shopping

H)Thunderstorm

I)Crafting

J)Falling Asleep together

K)Insomnia Help

L)Self Care Day

M)Talking about starting a family

N)Period Care/Sickness Care

O)Coming Home

P)Snowed/Rained in

Edit: found out i can in fact add a cutoff IM SO DUMB💚💚

Smut

(ANY KINDA DISABILITY AND VAGINISMUS CAN BE ADDED TO THESE)

1. “It’s getting late, don’t you wanna come inside?”

2. (Fluffy Smut?) Tickle Fight

3. Sexy Games (Sex Dice, Sexy Fortune Telling, Position Roulette, Card Games, Strip Poker)

4. Quickie

5. “What do you like?” - “I don’t know…” - “Then how about we find out together?”

6. Blindfolded Exploration

7. “You’re overworked, Loosen up a bit.”

8. “You’re so done when I get you alone.”

9. Wearing their clothes half naked

10. Sleepy Morning Sex

11. Pheromones

12. “Wanna take a shower?” “Sure.” “Alright, I’ll join you.”

13. Walking in on them/you changing

14. “What a great way to wake up.”

15. “Wanna try anal?” “Sure!” “Okay bend over!” “wait what?”

16. Dressing Room Sex

17. “I want to spoil you.”

18. “Can’t you knock?!”

19. “I wanna be a parent, Let’s make one”

20. Nudes of Inconvenient Timing

21. Long Distance Phone Sex

22.Birthday Sex

23. Fluffy Size Difference

24. Make Up Sex

25. Rough Size Difference

26. Gaming/Working Blowjob/Cockwarming

27. “I wanna make a sex tape.”

28. “Cute Outfit! Now take it off.”

29. “Come Help me with my zipper”

30. “What do you want for Dinner?” “you.”

#ghoul smut #arcane viktor #slashers #slasher hcs #tamaki amajiki #spencer reid x reader #daryl smut #spencer reid smut #mha x reader #mha smut #ghost smut #slashers smut #ghost band #ghost bc

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rencwn · 1 year ago

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• • • my tears ricochet by taylor swift : spotted! if it isn’t haley harkwell walking through the streets of nyc. people say she looks like daisy edgar - jones, but i really don’t see it. the twenty6 year old musical actress / socialite is out here making mommy and daddy proud. while she has been known to be + supportive, we’ve all seen her - pushover nature come to light. sources tell me she reminds people of freshly baked cupcakes , a quiet night in with a book , the smell of rain on a hot summer’s day , the tickles in your stomach before going on stage. / cis female & she / her.

BASIC INFORMATION:

name: haley eleanor harkwell. nicknames: hales. pronouns: she/her. gender: cis woman. age: twenty - six. date of birth: august 2nd, ‘96. place of birth: new york city, ny. astrological sign: leo. orientation: bisexual.

APPEARANCE:

height: five foot six. hair colour: brown. eye colour: brown. wardrobe style: following trends , but nothing particularly stand-out. tattoos: has a small K on the inside of her ankle. piercings: ears.

HEALTH:

physical ailments: n/a. mental ailments: anxiety disorder. alcohol use: socially. drug use: none. addictions: none.

PERSONALITY:

positive traits: professional , generous , creative , determined. negative traits: perfectionist , push-over , overemotional. mbti: ISTP-T.

ACTIVITIES & SKILLS:

skills: piano , acting , singing , transposing music , chess , golfing. weaknesses: confrontation , dancing , overthinks. languages spoken: english.

FAMILY:

father: james harkwell ( alive ) mother: cassandra harkwell ( alive ) siblings: 4 ( tba ). pets: ozzy ( male australian shepherd , 1.5 years old )

BACKGROUND : ( tw: domestic abuse , assault , miscarriage )

growing up in the upper east side, in perhaps the most famous family in new york city was , in one word , overwhelming. haley was only six when cameras entered their lives when her father ran for senator. his campaign plan was to show his family, to make them feel relateable. it meant documenting every minute of every day and every tiny accomplishment. spending time with family became monetised. it became a competition , not just getting the attention from the cameras , but getting attention from their parents. she dedicated herself to music , learning to play the piano , take singing lessons ... but as she grew up , that wasn't enough. haley had always been a daddy's girl , but as the time continued and the race for senator continued , the harder it became for haley to connect to her parents.

haley followed the rules because she wanted to be liked , and in doing that ... she was out of sight , out of mind. her parents had more imporant things to worry about. it came with one positive – she got some privacy. and she spent that privacy and freedom by going to rehearsals for school musicals and getting more involved with the show choir , still terrified to step out of line.

upon finishing high school , she was accepted into julliard to study musical theater , but before she could start , she was cast as zoe murphy in the original washington run of dear evan hansen and eventually on broadway. people shouted that it was a nepotism decision , but when the cast album released and nominations came rolling in for the musical , few critics could deny that she was talented. doing six shows a week in new york city , however , meant that she was barely home despite living in the same city , and people started separating haley harkwell from the senator harkwell they all knew –– and she didn't mind it.

after her run as zoe murphy in dear evan hansen , she took over the role of jenna in waitress. this is where she met her , soon to be long - term , boyfriend matt davenport. they dated for two years before moving in together in 2022 , when haley was painted green for the first time and took over elphaba in wicked. however , it wasn't the only thing that saw green. the attention she was getting , with his career stagnant , was souring the relationship. when they finally unpacked the final box in november 2022 , he proposed and she accepted.

as soon as they were engaged , however , he became controlling , wanting her to come straight home from performances and refusing to let her see friends. similar to the role she'd played in waitress , arguments became constant , matt laying hands on her on several occasions. covering bruises before she went to perform became a daily occurance and having stepped away from the family , she didn't dare reach out to them for help. matt announced her pregnancy on instagram in early march , at six weeks pregnant when no one but the two of them knew.

not but a month later , reports came out that haley had been admitted to mount sinai hospital in the early hours of the morning , after paparazzi had caught the couple arguing on their way home. as soon as she was deemed fit to leave , she packed her bags , took the dog , and moved back in with her parents. it was temporary... it would be.

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secretly-tword-obsessed · 4 years ago

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One Spot

Promoted by an anon!

Summary: Jared is going through a tough time, but Evan and Connor think they can help!

Set in an AU where Connor never died and he, Evan and Jared became best friends!

“Oh, uh, hi Zoe”, Evan muttered, as Zoe stepped out of her bedroom and into the hallway. Zoe just smiled at him: “Hey Evan”. Being best friends with Connor meant spending quite a lot of time at the Murphy’s house, which was great in theory, but seeing Connor’s younger sister Zoe so often was rather overwhelming. Evan had a huge crush on Zoe, but he put so much effort into making sure that she wouldn’t find out that it was kind of draining.

Jared, the third member of their little friendship group, would often tease Evan about it. Of course, it was only light and friendly teasing, but sometimes it was just too much for Evan.

But Jared was late that Thursday afternoon, so he hadn't witnessed that little interaction and therefore couldn’t tease Evan about it later.

Jared being late wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The dude often arrived a few minutes late to the boy’s little hang-sessions, wether they be at the park or at one of the boy’s houses.

Evan knocked on the door to Connor’s room, making the long-haired teen chuckle: “You know you don’t have to knock every time you wish to enter my room, right?”.

Evan slowly opened the door, finding Connor at his desk, drawing in his sketchpad. He paced over to where Connor was sitting and looked over his shoulder to see a beautiful pencil-drawing of a countryside landscape laid out before him.

“Thats nice”, Evan stated. “I know”, Connor replied. He than ripped a piece of paper out of the book and handed it to Evan: “Here, you can draw something while we wait for the Kleinman to get here”.

Evan took it and grabbed one of Connor’s heavy books to rest it on, and leaned his back against Connor’s bed and got to work.

Evan often lost track of time when he was drawing, but Connor certainly didn’t, and he started to get a bit confused when Jared still hadn’t arrived after ten minutes.

He whipped his phone out of his jean pocket: “Jared?”. Evan jumped at the break of silence, having been completely lost in his drawing of a pine tree forest. He wasn’t a very good drawer, but he really loved drawing, so it didn’t really matter.

“Jared, whats up, your like fifteen minutes late bro!”

Jared said something Evan couldn’t make out from the other end of the phone.

“Wow, that’s really weird bro”, Connor said, “I guess I’ll see you in five”.

“What happened?”, Evan asked as Jared put his phone down and stood up to look at him. “Jared completely forgot that we had planned this!”, Connor exclaimed.

That was very strange, Evan thought, Jared was always late but he was never forgetful. Something big must have happened that distracted him.

Evan and Connor seemed to be on the same page, as Connor said: “I think something must have gone wrong, we can ask him when he gets here”.

Five minutes later, Jared arrived, “WASSUP PRICK-HEADS!”. Typical Jared.

“What we’re interested in’, Connor said, “Is whats up with you”.

“Ah”, Jared said, “I just forgot because a pretty shitty thing happened with bullies today, I got distracted”.

Evan patted the side of Connor’s bed, gesturing for Jared to come sit there, “Oh, buddy, what happened?”.

Jared sighed, sat next to Evan, and looked down, “Ugh, those dicks. They just said some nasty stuff about - about-”.

Jared started shaking. This must have been pretty serious. Connor sat on the other side of him, and Evan wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Jared took a deep breath in, “They said some nasty stuff about my parents’ divorce. And about how it was probably my fault and shit. And I just-”. Jared took another breath in, his eyes getting a little wet.

Jared was the toughest guy that the other two knew. He could literally be beaten up by a whole gang and come out laughing about it smugly! But his family was something very close to his heart, and we was still struggling to get over the big split-up.

“I just, I wanted it to stop, and they kept saying things and I...”, Jared rested his head on Connor’s shoulder, “They really hurt me guys. I know it sounds pathetic but-”.

“Nononono, it doesn’t sound pathetic at all”, Connor informed the glasses-wearer, “We all have things that we hold close to our hearts”. Connor smirked and added, “Like Evan with Zoe”.

Evan blushed, “Shut up! At least I’m not the one with a crush on a Schuyler sister!”. “Hey”, Connor defended, “It’s not my fault that Lin hired such a hot actor to play Angelica!”.

“Actress”, Jared corrected the man who his head was rested upon, “A female actor is an actress”. “Oh Jared, your so old fashioned”, Connor said teasingly.

Jared sat up straight, “Thanks guys, for cheering me up I mean. You really make a difference”.

Connor cracked a grin: “Oh my dog! Jared saying something nice! I thought I’d never see the day!”.

“Oh my dog! Connor making an educated insight, I thought I’d never see the- HEY!”. Connor had reached his hand under Jared’s arm and poked him there. “Wow, I thought I’d never see the ‘hey’ either”, Connor teased.

“Connor! What gives?!”, Jared complained, “You know I’m sensitive there!”.

“Oh yes”, Evan smirked, “We are both aware that you are a little ticklish”.

“Only under my arms!”, Jared argued, “And says you Evan, your a breathing walking tickle spot!”. Evan blushed at that.

Suddenly, Jared’s eyes widened, and he started shaking again, “Spot...spot”.

Connor and Evan shared a concerned look, before looking down at Jared between them.

“Spot...oh, I almost forgot...they called my father’s house...the perfect spot for-”

“Hey, hey”, Connor interrupted, rubbing Jared’s back, “It’s okay, you don’t have to repeat them”. Connor slipped his right hand under Jared’s am, causing him to shriek and smack it off.

“Connor! This isn’t the time!”.

Evan smiled and scooted closer to Jared, “Why Jared, this is the perfect time. You have been hurt, so it is only our duty as your best friends to put a smile back on your fa-”.

“Hey!”, Zoe interrupted, swinging open the door, “I heard a scream, what’s going in in here?”. Evan turned dark red, “Oh, hey Zoe”.

Connor grinned at his sister, “Oh, I just tickled my little buddy over here”.

“Asshole!”, Jared grunted.

Zoe grinned, “Oh, I get it, we have a freakishly ticklish guy in here”.

“I am not freakishly ticklish, I only have one spot!”, Jared remarked, “Evan, he’s the one who’s freakishly tickl-AH!”.

Evan had poked under Jared’s other arm, and tackled him over. Connor smirked and pinned Jared’s arms above his head.

“Ev, don’t you fucking da-AHAHAHAH NOHOHO!”.

Evan clawed his fingers up and down Jared’s helpless underarms, “ZOHOHOHHOEEE HEHELP!”.

Zoe smirked: “As you wish”.

“NOHOHOH WAHAIT, DOHHOHON’T HEHELP THEHEHEHEHEM!”.

Zoe just giggled as she sat beside Evan and helped with the tickling. Evan tuned a deep red with Zoe sitting next to him, her giggling as they occasionally brushed fingers together, tickling Jared out of his mind.

That giggle of Zoe’s; Evan wasn’t sure if he could take this much longer. He stood up, causing the other three to look up at him.

“Aw, are you chickening out Ev?”, Connor teased, “Are you too afraid that Jared will get you back?”.

“Well, ah...”, Evan stuttered. Zoe smiled, “You know that if you chicken out now, you’ll be my next victim”. Evan turned a darker shade of red. Zoe just chuckled and went back to tickling a helpless Jared.

“NANHAHAHAHA ZOHOHOHOHE WAHAHAHAIT! NAOHOHOHHO, EHEHEHEVAN GOHOHOHOHO AWAHAHAHAY!”.

Evan had sat on Connor’s side of Jared instead, and went back to his attack.

Evan’s fingers clawed and prodded precisely, and Zoe’s scribbled and teased lightly. The combination of the two was almost unbearable for poor Jared.

Almost.

He was actually kind of enjoying himself. After a rough afternoon, laughing his head off was almost freeing. Like locking away the door to his misery and throwing away the key.

But that didn’t stop him from struggling.

“IHIHIHI WIHIHIHIHILL KIHIHIHIHILL YOHOHOHOHU AHAHAHAHALL AHAHAHAHAFTER THIHIHIHIS!” Jared cried, desperately jerking his torso up and down against the bed.

The other three just smiled, happy with the madness that they were inflicting on their friend. But still, it had to end at some point, the guy needed to breathe.

Connor unpinned Jared’s arms, and as soon as he did, Jared pounced on Evan.

“Oh, your in for it!”.

And the room erupted in laughter once more.

Ok, so that was really short, but I’ve got a nice long once coming up! So, to quote my favourite musical, Be Prepared!

#ticklefic #deh tickle fic #dear evan hansen tickle #lee!jared #ticklish!jared #ler!evan #ler!connor #ler!zoe #cheer up tickles

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bmeef-jermky · 4 years ago

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Chase (Kleinphy)

"Jared no."

"Jared yes!"

"N O!" Connor yelled out at the shorter boy before darting upstairs, Jared trying to follow behind him.

"You can't escape the tickle monster!" Jared laughed as he followed Connor to his room, grabbing onto his arm and giving a light squeeze to his side.

Connor stifled a squeak. "Babe I swear to god I'm gonna destroy you!"

"You won't, because you love me~" Jared wrapped his arms around Connor from behind and started to squeeze his sides more, making Connor erupt into laughter, thrashing around to get away.

"JAHAHAHRED!! DOHOHOHOHON'T!!"

Jared smirked. "Don't what?" He asked innocently As he continued to attack.

"I'M NOT FAHAHALLING FOR THAT THIS TIME!" Connor eventually squirmed his way out of Jared's arms, face bright red as he dragged Jared to the ground with him and more snorts and laughter

#DEH #Dear Evan Hansen #switch!Connor #switch!Jared #Dear Evan Hansen Tickle #lee!Connor #ticklish!Connor #ler!Jared #ticklish!Jared #Tickle #Tickling

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happyandticklish · 2 years ago

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Messing With His Brain

Notes: Commission for @ticklishraspberries. Teasy Miguel + an incredibly flustered Connor is my favorite combo to write, so I hope you enjoy this collective self-indulgence~ Thanks again for commissioning!!

Summary: Connor’s in a giggly mood.

“Connor.”

“What?”

“Stay still, please.”

“I am!”

He was not. In fact, Connor wasn’t sure he had been able to sit still for the last hour now, his whole body one twitchy, fidgety mess. A small part of it had to do with the edibles they’d decided experiment with that night. It was supposed to be slowing his brain processes down, which it was, technically, but his body had not yet got the memo it seemed. He felt hyper in a tired sort of way, as though he were full of kinetic energy with no motivation to burn it. So, he fidgeted.

A much larger part of it now had to do with Miguel’s hands which were dangerously close to his neck and making it very hard to stay still.

Miguel reached for the strand of hair once more to try to capture it where it had flown away, and Connor scrunched up with a giggle at the movement of the air around him.

“Connor!” Miguel sat back in exasperation, staring him down. Connor, reluctantly, released the hand he had captured in defense, crossing his arms and wiggling back into the couch. “Are you okay? Like, seriously? Is the weed messing with your head or something?”

“I’m fine,” Connor insisted, trying for a placating smile, though it came off giddier than intended. His gaze was zeroed in on Miguel’s hands which had retracted to his side of the couch—for now, anyway. “I’m just in a good mood, that’s all.” He tried for reasonably indignant. “Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?”

Miguel did not appear convinced. “If that’s all this was, then I would agree that yes, you’re more than allowed. After all, you’re normally giggly while high—”

“I’m not giggly—”

“—but you seem especially… I don’t know. Amped up tonight.”

He sat back on the couch, scanning Connor over like he was going to find the source of his hyper mood plastered onto him somewhere. Connor squirmed under his eyes, ducking his shoulders up in feeble protection. If he could have curled up tighter than he was, he would have. Miguel’s attention, normally an incredibly addictive phenomenon, felt predatory that night as though he were pursuing something. In a sober state of mind, Connor could have deduced his boyfriend’s innocent intentions, but with his mind racing a mile a minute and his paranoia amped up by drugs, he was absolutely certain that Miguel was hunting him and he had a pretty good idea of what that hunting entailed.

So, when Miguel started to advance towards him on the couch, he couldn’t help the way his foot kicked out instinctively into the other boy’s side in an attempt to shove him away. Miguel grunted, his lips tugging up slightly as Connor’s foot dug ticklishly into his side. “Why are you acting so weird tonight?” he groaned, trying to reach for his foot to tug it away. There was no way Connor was allowing him to get ahold of his ankle however, and his kicking increased tenfold as he yelped and tried to squirm further back into the couch somehow.

“What the fuck—?”

“Don’t, I swear to god, Miguel—stop!” Connor shrieked when Miguel, powered by intense annoyance and confusion, managed to grab hold of the kicking leg in his curled arm. “Stop, c’mon, please just let go!”

“I’m not even doing anything, what are you—oh.”

Connor could practically see the lightbulb going off in Miguel’s head as he glanced between Connor’s trapped leg, his defensively curled position, and the blush spread across his face that accompanied his bitten-back giggles. The grin that curled across his face kicked Connor’s heart rate into high gear.

“Oh, you thought that I was going to—that’s really cute.” Miguel swept a leg atop Connor’s free one, effectively holding it back as he shook his head. “No wonder you were so squirmy.”

Embarrassed heat crawled down Connor’s chest and he shrunk into his shirt, attempting to tug his leg out of Miguel’s hold uselessly. “Shut up. You were giving me a look.”

“I was not!”

“You were, you get this stupid look on your face, the I’m-about-to-wreck-Connor face—”

“Oh, I have a face now?”

“Yes, you do, and you were getting handsy—”

“I thought you liked it when I’m handsy.”

Miguel raised a brow and Connor snapped his mouth shut, glaring off to the side. He could feel Miguel’s eyes on him and it was not helping the bundle of nerves building in his lower stomach. “Not that kind of handsy.”

“Is that so?”

Connor tensed as Miguel raised his free hand to his trapped foot, which he had almost forgotten was in the other’s possession. Immediately, he attempted to jerk it free, but he was no match for Miguel’s strength—a fact he was usually glad for. He inhaled sharply as Miguel’s fingers carefully landed on his foot, forming a still claw over the thin material of his socks.

“Well?”

Connor’s throat had gone dry and he coughed to clear it, coming out of his reverie at the question. “Well, what?”

“C’mon.” Miguel’s fingers twitched and giggles built-in Connor’s throat, threatening to spill out once more as they had been all night long. “After all, you seemed pretty sure I was going to tickle you before, and now that I have you trapped it would seem a shame to waste all that energy you spent working yourself up over it.” Carefully, he circled his index finger over the top of his sole and Connor felt the dam inside him crumbling. “So what do you say?”

It was at that point that Connor was presented with a couple of different options. Connor in a stable state of mind would tell Miguel to fuck off, which usually resulted in Miguel teasing him for the rest of the night but leaving him alone. High Connor was different, however. High Connor was feeling daring and cuddly and starved for affection, and as such, he was more willing to test the waters.

He mumbled something under his breath, cheeks burning despite himself. Miguel stared, unsatisfied.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Yes, god, alright?”

“Yes, what?”

Clearly, Miguel was going to be an asshole about this tonight. Connor glared at him in possibly the least convincing show of aggression recorded in history and gently thwacked his chest with his captured foot. “Yes you can tickle me, you dick. For a bit. Five minutes. Tops.”

“Ah, okay, ‘just five minutes.’” There was absolutely no need for him to look so smug about this. “You sure you don’t want me to go longer?”

Connor thwacked him again and attempted to wiggle off of the couch, but Miguel merely chuckled, tugging his ankle to keep him in place. “Alright, alright, okay, I’m sorry. Five minutes it is.” He paused. “Unless you decide you want me to continue once our time’s up.”

“Miguel—ahA!”

Evidently, Miguel had not been content to wait through the rest of that ensuing argument. Nails curled against his sock, the sensation muted due to the fabric but certainly not absent. Connor bit his lip after that first yelp, closing his eyes as he gripped the edge of the couch cushion for support. Laughter built up in his throat, begging to be released, but Connor struggled to hold his composure just a little longer. There was something unbearably flustering about Miguel trying to break him, and that night Connor wanted to be flustered. Needed it, almost.

Miguel noticed, as he always did, and dug into the spot on his arches that had Connor cringing back into the cushion. “You just gave me permission, and now you’re trying to be tough? Who exactly are you trying to fool here? I already know how much this tickles.”

His tone had a teasing edge to it that multiplied the veritable butterfly atrium forming in Connor’s stomach. He curled his toes, instinct forcing him to tug his captured leg. “Doesn’t.”

“This doesn’t tickle?”

A grin split his face. Pull your shit together Connor. “No.”

“Mm.” Miguel crawled his fingers up to his toes suddenly, digging underneath them. Connor could hardly be blamed for the bubble of giggles that jumped out as a result. “Not even this?”

“N-Noho!”

“Why are you laughing, then?”

Connor had curled up into the side of the couch, one hand covering his face to preserve at least some of his dignity. “This is for y-your benefit. I just feel bad, is ahAll—ghnn!”

Miguel was nodding along sagely in a condescending manner that Connor would have found annoying if it wasn’t so cute. “Oh, I see, for my benefit. Well, I have to say I’m honored Connor, that’s uncharacteristically nice of you.”

Connor gaped at him, peeking out from his fingers momentarily at the dig. “Hey, I’m nice all the fuckiHING—SHIT!”

Tumbling laughter exploded out of him as he fell back on the couch. Miguel had reached forward suddenly to grab his knees, using his ankle hold to force his leg into a straight and easy-to-pinch position. His fingers had somehow targeted the exact tendon that drove Connor insane and he arched back on the couch in a mess of babbling pleas and cackles.

So much for making him work for it.

“Tihihickles, h-holy fuck, oh my gahahad, that fuhuhucking tihihickles!” Connor was blindly reaching forward to grab at his hands, but each clumsy attempt was easily thwarted by Miguel squeezing the bone once more and sending shocks of lightning shooting through his limbs. Connor eventually decided on grabbing a nearby throw pillow and gripping it to his chest in an attempt to cope with how unfairly tickly this method was during out to be. “Miguehehel!”

“Ah, ah, ah, we agreed on five minutes, remember?” Miguel reminded him. “We’re barely a minute in. Just relax. Surely it can’t be that bad.”

It was that bad, which was turning out to be a horribly conflicting situation for Connor. His knee twitched horribly under the unfair tickle assault, begging for a break, even a brief one, from its torment. Yet, despite how unbearable it was, or maybe because of it, Connor would have been willing to stay there for the rest of eternity if it meant Miguel’s eyes on him, Miguel’s hands on him, wringing such frantic reactions from him. He was simply having a hard time reconciling this issue with his nervous system, which appeared to have the exact opposite stance on the matter.

That all changed when Miguel’s nails slipped under his knee, wriggling against the unwisely bare skin underneath (summer weather and wear might actually be the death of Connor). Connor screeched, scrambling up and reaching over his pillow to try to push off Miguel’s hands.

“Oh, good spot, huh?”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, seriously, MihihihigueheheEHEHEL!”

Miguel briefly paused, glancing up at him but noticeably not moving his fingers from their current stance. He searched Connor’s face, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Do you want me to stop? Genuinely?”

Connor froze, his laughter choking up in his throat as his body realized he was no longer being tickled. He felt oddly like he had been caught in a lie. He shifted on the couch, or as much as he could in his current position. “I—ah. I mean. It’s just intense. But you don’t have to… I mean, I don’t want… I don’t—it tickles.”

Miguel’s grin shyly returned at his stammering. “Well, yes, I figured that might have been the case.”

A flush ran hot down the back of his neck. “Just… maybe if you were a bit gentler.”

And there was the grin in its full glory, a dazzling smirk that made Connor want to crawl underneath the couch cushions and hide for the rest of eternity. “Of course I can do gentler. Which I can only assume means… you’re good for the next four minutes, then?”

“Or more.”

“I’m sorry?”

Connor twisted the edge of his shirt by his shorts, staring at every inch of the room except, quite obviously, at Miguel. “I just mean, if it goes over five minutes, you don’t necessarily have to stop. You... ah, you have my permission. To tickle more. If you’d like.”

Subtle, Connor. He knew he was being obvious by this point, but perhaps Miguel was right and perhaps he did like this more than he let on. He would never dare admit it normally, but now, with weed as his excuse, the confession seemed safer.

His shoulders turtled forward defensively when Miguel started laughing, but he hardly had time to be embarrassed before fingers were once again scribbling under his knee and he lurched into a fit of giggles anew. “You’re unbearably cute, Murphy, and of course I can tickle you for longer. Especially since you were so kind as to grant me permission.”

“Fuhuhuck yohohou!”

“We’ll see if we have time later.”

In the end, Connor lasted another fifteen, then twenty, then thirty-five minutes before Miguel finally gave him a break to breathe as it was evident Connor wasn’t going to give up of his own volition. That trend continued throughout the night, with Connor and Miguel playing some twisted version of cat and mouse that was more often than not provoked by the latter.

After that night, Miguel insisted that they indulge in edibles more often, a suggestion he received a punch in the arm for and a mumbled agreement later on.

#conguel #dear evan hansen #tickle fic #commission #commissions #fanfiction #connor murphy #miguel #tickling

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fanficsandfluff · 7 years ago

Note

"Come over here and make me!" With one of my fave gay ships ever Evan and Connor! 😄 Only if you want to though lmao!

You picked number 1! Very nice choice XD Hope you like it!

send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble

“Come over here and make me!”

Evan couldn’t suppress a smile at those taunting words, that wide grin, and that predatory stance Connor blessed him with.

Connor had been showing his playful side to Evan more and more frequently. And still, Evan wasn’t fully sure of how to respond. It was a pleasant sight to see Connor laughing and smiling and acting so free, but even he didn’t feel that way 100% of the time about himself. Evan couldn’t respond to Connor’s upbeat moments fully, and would get nervous just trying to force himself to act equally as happy as Connor. Still, being around Connor made Evan ten times happier than he’d normally be alone. Teasing… right! How the hell do you respond to a taunt like that?

Evan stared at Connor standing a few feet away from him on the grassy hilltop. Make him. Sure. That means go to him.

But before Evan could even get to his feet properly, Connor was off, sprinting at top speed down the shallow hill. Evan smiled more and he breathed a giddy giggle before pursuing the chase.

Connor was running like the wind, said element blowing through his hair. It felt so exhilarating to run like this in the fresh air. All he could do was keep running.

Evan, on the other hand, was panting in the effort to catch up to his bolting partner. But Connor suddenly seemed to slow to a jog, but was still running. Maybe he was getting tired, too! His chance had come!

Evan picked up even more speed and was so caught up in declaring victory that he had no time to slow down before reaching Connor that he just rammed right into him, knocking them both to the ground.

“Oof! What the fuc– Evan!” Connor groaned but was eyeing him playfully anyway.

Evan was heaving and he smiled bashfully down at Connor, the two of them a tangle of limbs and twigs and breaths, “Y-You slowed down. Did you do that on purpose?” he panted.

Connor shook his head, “No. I didn’t even realize I slowed down. I was taking in the moment.”

Evan looked around at the field and he smiled again, “Oh, you said ‘make me’, didn’t you?”

Connor dawned a grin once more, “I ain’t saying it.”

Evan giggled briefly and he used his position to his advantage, sliding a select few fingers up and down the curve in Connor’s side. The long-haired teen gasped and immediately writhed beneath Evan. Connor hated being tickled in public, and Evan was well aware of that fact. But it didn’t stop him from doing it in the middle of an empty field, so technically, not in front of the public eye.

“E-Evan! Stoppit!” Connor begged through gritted teeth.

Evan merely switched spots, worming his fingers into each of the soft spaces between Connor’s ribs. An escalation in laughter was putting it mildly. Connor practically howled on the ground, jerking and twisting every which way to somehow get Evan’s fingers off. Evan wished with all his might that he never had to spend a day without hearing this laugh. It was high-pitched and squeaky, all while an undercurrent of vivacious, melodious laughter held it together.

“Plehease! Please, I can’t take it!” Connor sputtered out through a snort when Evan jabbed at Connor’s highest rib.

“Then say it,” Evan was impressed with his own mannerisms at this time. Goading and confident? Who is this new Evan Hansen?

“Okahahay! OKAY!”

Connor wheezed when Evan finished and he blurted out, “T-Train isn’t the word band I’ve ever heard… Happy?”

Evan let out a peal of laughter and he nodded. Of course he was happy. Happy to hear Connor’s laugh all for that one stupid admission.

#drabble #ticklish!connor #connor murphy #evan hansen #dear evan hansen #connor x evan #connor/evan #deh #tickle fic #dear evan hansen tickle #dear evan hansen fanfiction

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ticklishraspberries · 2 years ago

Text

Caught (Connor/Miguel, Zoe)

Summary: Zoe comes home to find that her brother has snuck someone over. (Listen, okay. I know there are like ten people in this fandom, but I cannot choose what my brain decides to fixate on. I am a sucker for Connor/Miguel, and a sucker for Murphy sibling bonding, and this fic just spilled out. So, take this self-indulgent thing and I hope you enjoy it!!)

Zoe completely forgot that the jazz band had canceled rehearsal that afternoon, and she lugs her guitar all the way to their practice room before realizing, letting out a groan. She carries her guitar all the way back to her car, getting into the driver’s seat and playing some Phoebe Bridgers for her ride home, shamelessly singing along.

Ever since Connor transferred to Hanover, she’s had the car to herself, which gives her the freedom to blast her music and stop by Starbucks whenever she wants. Even with the detour for coffee, she’s home much earlier than she would be on a normal Tuesday. She toes off her Converse by the front door, places her car keys on the table. As she heads towards the stairs, she swears she hears…voices?

Neither of her parents’ cars are in the driveway, and Connor isn’t usually the type to talk to himself, and even if he was, there are definitely two voices, and they’re laughing. He could be watching a show, but it’s much too loud to be from the television. Any normal person would assume that their brother has a friend over, but Zoe’s never seen Connor bring anyone back to the house. Better yet, she’s never known any of Connor’s friends, and always just assumed that he has none. Curiosity and confusion overtake her as she climbs the stairs, and she knocks on the door.

The giggling doesn’t stop — her big brother, giggling, a sound she hasn’t heard since they were children. She can also hear an unfamiliar voice say something, but the thick wood of the door muffles the words. Clearly they hadn’t heard her knock, so she pushes the door open, brows furrowed and questions ready on her tongue.

Connor is half-pinned to his navy blue sheets, long hair messy and hoodie pushed above his navel, cheeks red. A good-looking, tan-skinned boy that Zoe didn’t recognize is the one hovering over him, tickling his sides and grinning like mad. She only catches it for a split second before they both jump at her arrival, drawing away from one another like they’d been caught doing something much less innocent.

“Zoe, what the fuck?” Connor asks, and his voice sounds breathless, trying to fix his rucked up shirt. “Did you forget how to fuckin’ knock?”

Zoe can’t tell if he’s more angry or embarrassed, and figures he’s teetering somewhere in between. An angry Connor is never a good thing, but can’t bring herself to care in that moment, still unsure if this is some kind of fever dream. “Sorry, I just heard…Who are you?” she asks, looking at the other boy.

“I’m Miguel,” he replies, sounding significantly less flustered than her brother. “I’m Connor’s, uh, friend. Nice to meet you.”

Connor huffs, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. They’re both clearly a bit stoned, and Zoe can still smell the smoke lingering in the room.

She gives Miguel a smile. “Nice to meet you. Sorry for barging in, I was just surprised…Connor doesn’t usually have friends over.”

“And you aren’t usually home ‘til four on Tuesdays,” Connor replies at the same time that Miguel says, “No worries.”

“Jazz band was canceled. I didn’t think I had to tell you, since I didn’t think you’d be sneaking a friend over,” she says. “I’ll warn you next time, I guess. And I won’t tell mom and dad, either.”

Connor fiddles with the strings on his hoodie, pointedly looking anywhere but at Zoe or Miguel, and it’s actually kind of hilarious to see her brother so clearly flustered. “Whatever. Thanks, I guess,” he mutters.

Zoe nods, and there’s an awkward beat of silence before she’s reaching for the doorknob, intending to go back to her room and study. But before she shuts the door all the way, a mischievous little lightbulb goes off over her head. She had honestly forgotten that her brother was ticklish at all, as it wasn’t knowledge she put to use anymore. They had stopped being physically playful with one another by the time she was ten, but now, she remembers it clear as day, wrestling and making one another shriek with laughter.

“Hey, Miguel?” she says, peeking back into the room.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Zoe’s eyes flicker to Connor, and she smirks. “If I remember correctly, his knees are really bad. Have fun!” She shuts the door and strolls down the hallway to her own bedroom. She hears Connor yell “traitor!” before dissolving into laughter once again, and for the first time in years, she feels a fondness towards her older brother that she thought had been lost.

Whoever this Miguel guy is, she hopes he’s good for Connor. As strained as their relationship has become, Zoe knows that deep down, she loves her brother and wants him to get better. She knows that dating someone (because she has a sneaking suspicion that Miguel is more than a friend) won’t “fix” him, but maybe it will give him a push in the direction of healing.

About an hour passes before she hears two pairs of footsteps head down the stairs, which she assumes is Miguel leaving. She glances out her window and watches him walk out to his car, Connor following behind him. Before Miguel gets into the driver’s seat, he leans forward and presses a kiss to Connor’s lips. Called it, she thinks.

Miguel drives off and she watches her brother walk back towards the house, hears him make his way back up the stairs and to his bedroom. It makes her heart feel a little lighter, realizing her brother still has a soft side after all these years.

When her parents come home, she takes her seat at the dinner table and shoots Connor a look, a tiny smile. He responds by subtly flipping her off, but there’s no malice behind it. Zoe decides that the next time that jazz band is canceled, she’ll bring home coffee for Connor and Miguel, too.

#conguel #connor murphy #zoe murphy #miguel deh #miguel dear evan hansen #connor x miguel #miguel x connor #connor & zoe #connor and zoe #dear evan hansen #deh fic #deh ticklefic #deh tickle fic #ticklefic #tickle fic #dear evan hansen fic #deh fanfic #raspberry writes

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