#ss2k23

[fluffyweeby]

Merry Christmas @lovelymessybubbly ! I’m your squealing Santa this year!!

I love your art so much and I’m soo happy and honoured I got to be your santa!

I hope you’re gonna like it and have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Stay hydrated! 💜💧

[woollymutt]

Happy holidays everybody! I’m very sorry for the late post: my personal life has very much gotten in the way of this project and I’ve neglected to check my Tumblr much. Nonetheless, I was assigned to make a gift for @cringemesstickles! Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope that you like your gift :D

Character A is in a bad mood, and Character B tickles them to cheer them up.

I’ve never drawn this duo before, so I hope I did their faces justice! I did my best to use references haha. Happy holidays!

[angelatmidnight1]

Smile For Me

Hi, @supermarvel-fics! I'm your squealing Santa this year. It's my first time writing for the Scream series, but I really hope this fic is to your liking. I'm a big fan of the series myself :D. I hope you have a great holiday season and a wonderful 2024!

Word Count- 2,169.

Warnings- Swearing, mentions of death, and tickling.

Fandom- Scream (1996).

Pairing- Stu Macher x Reader (Friends to lovers- two characters falling in love and character A finds out character B is ticklish (ends in kissing and confessing) Characters are both 18 in this fic.

It’s been a string of dark days for Woodsboro, California, as the Ghostface attacks ravage the town. Stu distracts you from your worries by inviting you over to his place. What was supposed to be a chill night of movies turned into playful tickling and heartfelt confessions. 

Diiiiing!

High school didn’t usually dismiss at 9:00am. You didn’t crawl out of the warmth of your bed for two hours of instruction. But, these weren’t usual times. 

A killer was on the loose. People were going missing, lives were being lost. Woodsboro High couldn’t keep you safe. So, they sent everyone home with a strict curfew to be enforced in the evening.

Even in a crowd, you felt afraid. Ghostface could be anywhere. He could strike at any time. You didn’t even bother going to your locker. Instead, you were one of the first students in the hall, holding your backpack strap in a death grip. 

You walked as fast as your feet could take you. But, someone behind you was faster. 

Unlike you, Stu was thrilled to have a siesta from school. He burst out of his boring history class with a huge grin. He scanned the crowd for you and, when he saw you, he pushed his way forward. 

“(Y/N!)

In the commotion of the busy hallway, you didn’t hear him approach. So, when two strong arms hoisted you into the air, you screamed. 

“No, NO! Let me go!” Your limbs took on a mind of their own, flailing about violently. If Ghostface was gonna take you out, he’d have a fight on his hands. Stu yelped and, after getting clocked in the jaw, he immediately put you back down. 

“Hey, HEY! It’s just me!” Stu wailed. He rubbed his jaw, wincing. “Fuck, that hurt…”

You sighed an exasperated sigh. “Damn it, Stu.” You stepped towards him, closing the gap, and tenderly put a hand on his jaw. “You scared the hell outta me. I’m sorry.” 

For a moment, Stu’s eyes softened. The two of you had been friends since elementary school, and it wasn’t really a secret that he adored you. He made an agreement with Billy that they weren’t allowed to hurt you. Ever. You were his calm in the storm that he and Billy were bringing to Woodsboro. 

And, for you, Stu was your light in the darkness. The Ghostface attacks had you on edge. You hadn’t been sleeping well, lacked focus in class, and constantly looked over your shoulder. A part of you wished that Stu took the ordeal more seriously. But, a larger part of you was grateful that he still found ways to make you smile. He leaned into your hand and gave you a little pout.

“Sorry enough to come by my place tonight?” Stu’s pout turned into a bright, hopeful grin. “My parents won’t be home, and Randy hooked me up with some killer movies. All that’s missing is you~.”

He ended his statement with a poke to your nose. You smiled, playfully batting his hand away. Then, you released his jaw and sighed. 

“I don’t know, Stu. I’m tired.” You replied. Then, as if on cue, you yawned deeply. “I haven’t been able to sleep because of, well, ya know.” 

Stu nodded. But then, he gave you another bright smile, leaning his taller frame towards you. “That’s exactly why you should come over! Ghostface’s got nothing on me.” He bragged and flexed his muscles. “Look, I’m so buff, I’ll totally protect you, (Y/N).” 

You regarded him with a smirk. Then, you reached up to feel his bicep. Stu gasped and made a dramatic show of leaning into you. You tried to hold him up, but he was too heavy, and he nearly made you fall. You yelped and stumbled back into a nearby locker, scolding him without malice. 

“Stuhu!” You laughed and grabbed onto both of his arms to keep yourself upright. Stu snickered and hovered over you. He gently shook your hands off of his arms and took them into his own. He squeezed them affectionately, thumbs rubbing the top of your hands, and his blue eyes gazed into yours. 

“Let me protect you, alright?” He asked softly. You froze and held his gaze. There was a sudden warmth in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks heating up. After a beat, you nodded.

“Alright, if you really promise to protect me.” 

Although the safety of your home comforted you, you needed a distraction. And, Stu seemed happy to deliver. Stu confirmed this with a wide grin. 

“Awesome!” Stu cheered. He suddenly scooped you up, making you squeal, and carried you through the crowds. Once out of the school, he put you down, patting your back. “Come by at six tonight. Oh! And bring food! Can’t have a movie night without food.”

You smoothed out your clothes, returning his grin. Honestly, he could’ve gotten lost in that smile. “I’ll bring the best of Woodsboro’s culinary delights. You can count on it.” 

Stu whooped and did a fist pump. Then, with another laugh, the two of you parted ways. 

Burgers, fries, and sodas spelled the perfect night-in for you. Stu’s house wasn’t too far from yours, but your older brother insisted on dropping you off. You waved goodbye as he pulled off and carried the food to Stu’s door. You had to put the sodas down to knock on the door. Seconds later, the door opened, and Stu greeted you with a huge grin. 

“There you are! Right on time.” He gave you a quick hug and helped you bring the food in. Once inside his home, you felt your shoulders drop. You’d been over his home so many times, it brought you a sense of peace. A rarity in the current state of Woodsboro. You followed him to the living room and set the bags down. He did the same. Then, he turned to you, playfully pushing you back onto the couch. 

“HEY!” You caught yourself with your hands, snickering. Stu flopped beside you, and you lightly shoved his shoulder. “That’s how you treat someone who brought you food?” 

Stu chuckled and cozied up to you, putting his head on your arm. “Maybe.” He smirked. He reached forward to grab the remote and his fries. “Now, shhh! The movie’s starting.”

You rolled your eyes, but otherwise relented. 

Stu picked out a scary movie for the two of you to watch. His head was still resting on your arm and, despite your best efforts, you flinched at the jump scares. You shielded your eyes from any more scares, and Stu looked up at you curiously. He smiled. 

“D’aww, you’re kinda cute when you’re afraid.” He cooed. He poked your cheek, snickering as you reeled away from him. 

“Cut it out, I’m not cute.” You argued, keeping your eyes shielded. You moved your hands when you felt him shift under you. He sat straight up, suddenly poking your side. You slammed your arm to protect the area.  “Aha! Stu!”

“I don’t know,” he mused, now harboring a playful glint in his eye. “That’s the cutest little giggle I’ve ever heard. And you know what?”

You didn’t respond, but when you felt the couch cushion dip, you jumped to your feet out of instinct. Just in time too, because Stu had scooted closer to you, wriggling his fingers in the air. You giggled nervously, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Stu, don’t you dare-”

“Oh, I dare, (Y/N)!” He grinned mischievously. He made the conscious effort not to dip into his Ghostface voice. “I wanna hear that adorable giggle again.”

He shot up from his seat and lunged towards you. You yelped and narrowly dodged him. You ran behind the couch for cover and tried to run around it. But, Stu mirrored your movements, moving left and right with you respectively. “Where ya goin’~?”

“I’m gonna kill youhu-” You snickered and made the last minute decision to grab a pillow for self-defense. Stu’s eyes widened and, after a dramatic gasp, he covered his mouth with both hands. 

“You’re gonna kill me? With a pillow? Oh my god, have mercy!” Stu pretended to sound terrified. Then, he suddenly vaulted over the couch, easily ripping the pillow from your hands. “I don’t respond well to threats! Now, you’re gonna get it!”

You screamed and took off running. Stu��s grin widened; he loved a good chase. He stayed hot on your tail and chased you through the house. He easily caught up with you and, just before you could book it upstairs, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist. He dragged you back to the couch and tossed you onto it. 

“Baaad move, (Y/N)! You don’t run upstairs when someone’s chasing you!” He playfully chastised. He straddled your waist and poked at random spots on your torso. You squealed and bucked your hips, giggling frantically. “Haven’t you watched any movies?”

“Nohohoho!” You whined and wrestled with his hands. You managed to get a couple of pinches on his sides, making him squeal, but he was faster and stronger than you. He gathered your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head. Then, with his free hand, he alternated pinches along your hips. You arched your back and giggled harder. “Thihihis isn’t fuhuhuhny! Lehehet me gohoho!”

“Nope! No can do, I’ve gotta have those cute (Y/N)  giggles.” Stu snickered and suddenly reached up to spider his nails along your neck. “Give ‘em to me!”

You yelled and scrunched your neck. “NOHahahaha! Stuhuhu stahaha!” You protested and whipped your head around, trying to avoid his fingers. After a couple more scratches, his hand found your side, and he squeezed at it rapidly. You arched your back again. “STUHUHU!”

“(Y/N)~” He responded in a singsong voice. He scritched across your stomach to get to your other side. “Poor baby, does it tickle?”

“Yehehehes!” You whined and fell deeper into your giggle fit. “Plehehehehease stohohohop!”

“But I haven’t even tickled your armpits yet!” Stu argued. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, only to be met with a smug grin. “What? That wouldn’t be a bad spot, would it?”

“NO! Not there, Stu, plehehehease!” You started giggling again when he poked and prodded up your side. You squirmed, trying to roll away from you, but his weight on top of you kept you pinned to the cushions. “Plehehease nohohot thehehere!”

Stu smirked up at you, teasing your rib cage with his blunt nails. That was your second worst spot; you squirmed around more violently, gasping in between giggles. 

“Here I come, (Y/N)...” Stu taunted. He pinched at the spaces in between your ribs, earning short barks of laughter. “I’m gonna get you..”

You shook your head back and forth, laughing harder as he kept moving up. “Nahahaha dohohon’t!”

Stu’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Would you fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book? 

“Don’t what?” He asked, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. You snorted and pushed your head against his, making him chuckle. “Hmm~? Don’t what, buddy?”

“Tihihihihickle mehehehehe!”

No way. Stu switched to the other side of your neck to nuzzle. You pinched your eyes shut, now full-on laughing. “Well,” he breathed into your skin, making you laugh harder. “If you insist!”

Stu let go of your wrists and, in one fluid motion, plunged his wiggling fingers under your arms. You screamed and slammed your arms against your sides, which trapped his hands in place. 

“NOHAHAHA GEHEHEHT OHOHOFF OF MEHEHEHE!” You kicked your legs against the couch, your loud laughter filling up every corner of the room. “PLEHEHEHASE!”

“Listen to you, listen to that pretty laugh!” Stu laughed along with you and drilled his thumbs into your armpits. You squeezed your arms against your sides even more, falling deeper into a pit of laughter. “You’re such a cutie. Tickle, tickle, tickle, cutie pie.”

You blushed and writhed under him, laughing yourself silly. While tickling your armpits, Stu returned to nuzzling your neck. He blew quick raspberries into it when he felt especially mischievous. As much as you kicked and laughed, you weren’t going anywhere. It was the raspberries that pushed you into hiccupy laughter, and after one more raspberry, Stu stopped tickling you. 

You breathed heavily. Ticklish sensations still plagued you, so you were still very giggly. “Youhu’re suhuhch an ahahashole.”

Stu laughed. “You don’t mean that. You love me!” His eyes softened again as he looked at you; disheveled hair, a wide smile, those beautiful (e/c) eyes. “Right? Cause I’ve definitely got a thing for you, (Y/N).”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. Your face spelled surprise, but somewhere in your heart, you already knew. “Really?”

Stu climbed off of you so that you could sit up. “Hell yeah, I do.” He repeated, patting a spot beside him. You obliged by scooting beside him, so that you were pressed against him. “Want me to prove it?”

That’s what you needed. Proof. Something sweet to seal the deal. You nodded. Then, wrapping an arm around you, he leaned down to kiss your lips. Deeply. 

You leaned up into that kiss and smiled. Stu smiled too. He’d kill to keep that smile on your face.

[amazingmsme]

With a Bow on Top

AN: Happy holidays to all who celebrate, & especially to @tickles-tea I’m your squealing santa! I loved writing this, & I hope you enjoy! Added a lil festive flare to this one. HUGE thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting! & be sure to follow @squealing-santa so you don’t miss out on all the winter fluff!

Miguel sat on the floor of Peter and MJ's living room, half-used rolls of wrapping paper scattered about the floor around him. Peter himself was sitting next to him, completely transfixed on the movie playing "for background noise."

That lying rat bastard.

"You know, I only said I'd bring my universe's Grinch because you promised you wouldn't get distracted and actually help out. Which, you're not doing," Miguel said bluntly. Peter snapped out of his Christmas movie haze to defend himself.

"Sorry, but I've just never seen it before!" He reached down and grabbed one of Mayday's unwrapped gifts. Folding the paper around the box, he finished by sealing it up with a web. Miguel rolled his eyes.

"What? My gift looks way cooler than yours, you're just jealous of my artistic flare," he said smugly.

"Don't get me wrong, it looks great, but how's she gonna open it?" Miguel asked with a smirk. Peter's brow's nearly kissed his hairline as he came to the realization.

"Shit! Well, hopefully by Christmas it'll be weak enough to tear through," he finished with a shrug, slapping a bow on top and sliding it under the tree. As Peter reached for another present, he noticed a scrap piece of ribbon, much too short to fit around a box. Then, his gaze trailed over to his unassuming friend. Perfect.

He picked it up, fluttering it along the back of Miguel's neck. Peter can hear him gasp, and isn't that a lovely sound. He rolls his broad shoulders, arching his back and scrunching his neck ever so slightly. By the time he whipped around to glare at the perpetrator, he had already retracted his hands, hiding them innocently in his pockets.

Miguel looked him up and down before returning to his work. To his credit, Peter waited a few seconds before striking once more. Miguel sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, rubbing his ear against his shoulder to rid himself of the lingering tingles.

"Peter?"

"Hm?"

"I know you're not really working," he deadpanned. Peter sputtered in shock.

"I am too! Look, a perfectly wrapped gift!" he said proudly, holding out Mayday's present. Miguel looked it over, only half amused.

"You're right, a gift. So why not pick up the pace?" he challenged, tossing a Spider-Man themed basketball his way that Peter had planned on giving Miles. Peter caught it with one hand, and Miguel rolled his eyes. Showoff.

"How the hell am I supposed to wrap a ball?"

"I don't know wise guy, you're the one who got it for him." Okay, Peter wasn't sorry for what he was about to do.

He grabbed a marker off the floor and uncapped it with his teeth, making a satisfying pop sound. He barely bit back a snicker as he leaned in, quickly scribbling at the back of his neck. A strangled squeal caught in his throat at he snatched Peter's wrist in one hand, the other rubbing at his neck.

"You think you're funny or somethin'?" he asked with a cold glare.

"Hilarious, actually," Peter corrected with a shrug. Miguel scoffed and let him go.

"Go back to watching the damn movie if you're just gonna bother me," he suggested, grabbing a new tube of wrapping paper to switch things up. Can't have them all looking the same, now can we?

Why not both? Peter thought to himself, an evil grin growing on his face that rivaled the Grinch onscreen. He grabbed two pieces of ribbon discarded on the floor holding them poised to strike between his fingers. Miguel had his back turned, busy wrapping another present and allowing himself to get sucked into the movie. He was practically serving himself up on a silver platter. He really ought to know better by now...

Or maybe he didn't totally mind Peter's shenanigans. But that was a silly, fleeting thought.

Or was it? Only one way to find out.

Ever so quietly, he scooted closer to Miguel, snatching the marker off the floor. The grumpy Spider-Man was sporting a pair of ripped jeans. (He constantly made sure people knew he didn't buy them like that and that he earned those holes and rips.) A particularly large hole left his knee exposed and vulnerable for an attack... Perfect.

He let out a surprised snort, jerking his leg away before a chuckle could follow. They were locked in an intense staring contest, or glaring contest, on Miguel's part. Peter wore an innocent grin, though his next words were anything but.

"What's wrong big guy? Ticklish?"

If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed the way he flinched at the question.

"No."

"Really? You're sticking to that lie?"

Miguel huffed, angrily slapping a bow on top of a present. "It's not a lie."

"Well in that case, I'm not ticklish either," Peter boldly proclaimed. Miguel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since we're being honest and all." Miguel grabbed a tube of wrapping paper, bonking Peter on the head in one swift motion before he even knew what happened.

"Don't forget I'm the one helping you," he reminded pointedly.

"Noted," Peter said, grabbing the tube from him and setting it beside MJ's new boots. For good measure, he started wrapping the gift until Miguel turned away. Then it was back to scheming.

He scanned the pile of unwrapped gifts for inspiration, smiling to himself when he spotted a handheld massager he got as a stocking stuffer.

"Hey Miguel?" he elected to ignore the annoyed groan he was met with, "Can you do me a favor?"

"No."

"Perfect! Just tell me if this massager is any good, okay? I don't want it to be too weak or painful, or not have enough settings." He heard Miguel sigh in defeat.

"Whatever."

"Thanks!" He scooted closer to him, turning on the X-shaped massager. At first he decided to play nice and actually work out the tension in his friend's shoulders before setting his plan into motion. He had to rebuild some trust, after all.

"Not bad, I think she'll like this," Miguel hummed, letting his head fall to one side as he began to relax. He was really watching the movie now, allowing himself a moment to enjoy it. It was one of the more heartfelt scenes of the film, and one of his favorites. He found he tended to like the more subtle, meaningful holiday movies rather than the over the top comedies and rom coms that dominated the season.

The last thing he was expecting was a dreadfully ticklish buzzing on his side.

His resolve gave way as he fell onto one side, loud surprised cackles spilling out into the room and drowned out the sound of the TV.

"Peheheter! Quit ihihit!"

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you through all that laughing. Which is weird, considering how not ticklish you are," he taunted, running the massager over his abs. Miguel curled in on himself, a giggly groan slipping out in response to the teasing.

"You're hohohorrible, you know thahat?" he asked, weakly swatting at Peter's hands, but to no avail.

Peter snorted. "Maybe to you."

The gentle vibrations traveled from his belly up his sides and to his ribs, causing the deep rumbling chuckles to build up momentum. Encouraged by this, Peter grabbed his wrist and wrestled his arm above his head, pinning it in place.

"Wahait!" he cried, trying to fend him off with his other hand. Peter grinned down at him, the textbook definition of smug.

"Okay. Well? What am I waiting for?" he asked, hovering the tool above his armpit menacingly. Miguel slammed his head against the ground in frustration.

"Gehehet off of me, you asshole!" he demanded through giggles.

"Why should I?" Peter challenged.

He just won't quit, will he? Miguel had no choice but to surrender, if they ever wanted to get done wrapping, that is.

"Fihihine, okay? You wihihin!" he conceded, rolling around on the ground. ,!"

"Wow, okay, so what do I win?" he asked, pulling his hands away to give him a breather. Miguel panted and glared up at him.

"I'm fuckin' ticklish, okay? There, happy?" he growled through residual giggles.

"Over the moon," Peter confirmed. He patted Miguel's chest as he let him go, crawling over to the pile of unwrapped presents. "No more funny business, I promise!" he assured. Miguel only rolled his eyes, a fond smile still lingering on his face.

"Yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it."

[giggle-bee]

Triple Threat (Squealing Santa 2023!)

Hi, @hakurei-k, I'm your Santa for this year! Sorry this is a little late, but I hope you still enjoy it! It was a challenging prompt since I don't typically write intense stuff with multiple lers, but it was a fun fic to do, and I'm so happy I got you!! I also want to thank @squealing-santa, Hypah, for being such an amazing host!! Couldn't have done it without you, thank you for keeping the tradition alive!

(Ler!Barbatos, Ler!Solomon, Ler!Simeon, Lee!MC)

Warnings: pranks, suprise tickles

Summary: Barbatos has a day off but doesn't know how to spend it. How better to than with you? Mediating a prank war wasn't in the plans, though.

Word Count: 1.8k

When Diavolo had first approached Barbatos about taking the day off, he was against the idea. “My Lord, the New Year’s celebration is not far away. The castle must be prepared for guests, there is much work to be done-” “Exactly my thoughts! You’ve been working tirelessly, my friend, you deserve some time to yourself. It’s my castle, I want to have part in the decorating! Besides, I know you’ve been keeping an eye on that new tea house. Take the day and relax, Barbatos.”

Diavolo patted him on the back and left Barbatos standing in his office, lost for words and with a blank mind for the first time in a while. For anyone else, the opportunity would be a blessing, to leave your duties behind and pay attention to the parts of your life neglected. All Barbatos could think about was the castle in a state of disarray, clashing colors, decorations strewn haphazardly about the place, anything less than perfect was not acceptable.

However, Diavolo’s pout if he figured out Barbatos was still working during his break was too heartbreaking to think about. Barbatos sighed, pulling out his DDD and pulling up his messages with you.

Barbatos MC, would you like to join me at Witch’s Brew this afternoon? My schedule has been cleared. 

MC Oh? Is that the new tea place across from Majolish? I would love to!

Barbatos Alright. See you at noon. 

Witch’s Brew was a quaint shop that sold both loose leaf teas, tea sets, and delicious desserts. To a demon like Barbatos, it was heaven. The aroma of dried flowers and warmth tickled his nose as he opened the door, sitting down at a small table with a candle in the middle. It was peaceful here, soft music playing over the speakers and setting a light ambience to the space. Ordering some tea for the both of you would be his first order of business. The fragrant notes of hibiscus and lemon called to him from behind the counter, he would bring it back to the table piping hot and waiting. 

A smile came across his lips as he imagined you taking the first sip, your eyes lighting up at the sweet flavor- rich and floral with a hint of tart to balance it. The thought was almost as sweet as you were. The tinkling of the doorbell made Barbatos glance up hopefully from his cup, eyes alight when he saw you. But you weren’t carefree and jubilant as usual. He picked up on the nervous glances you were sending around the room, your hesitant steps towards the table, and most of all, you hadn’t greeted him with so much as a smile yet. Quite unusual. 

“Ah, hello Barbatos! Sorry I’m late,” you whispered, smoothing your clothes and sitting in the chair he pulled out for you. The demon cocked an eyebrow at your behavior, instantly analyzing your expression. He knew something was up.

“Would you like to tell me what is obviously bothering you? You look like someone is out to get you.”

“Ahaha… well…” You scratched your arm, averting your gaze and peering down into the teacup. “You could say that.” You chose to elaborate on the prank war currently going on in Purgatory Hall, the one you had started a week ago. Luke had voted on staying out of things, which meant you, Solomon, and Simeon would have to prank amongst yourselves.

Pulling out all the stops this morning, you had set up several pillows to fall onto Simeon’s head, covering him in feathers. You had swiped one of Solomon’s singing potions earlier in the week and mixed it into a batch of cookies, which had him singing curses for the next hour. You had found these harmless pranks extremely funny, but both Solomon and Simeon were sure to get you back. 

“So that’s why I have to stay vigilant! They could be anywhere, Barbatos, I have to keep a lookout,” you explained, taking a sip of your tea. The flavor was complex and delicate, a nice reprieve from the chaos going on with your friends. You melted into the warm drink, nodding at the teapot, “This was a good pick, thank you for letting me try it!”

Barbatos shook his head with a fond smile. He knew you were “I believe tea is better when shared in good company, so it’s my pleasure.” Pouring you two another cup, he thought on your predicament. If Solomon and Simeon were working together, it could spell disaster for everyone in Purgatory Hall.

Humming in thought, Barbatos finished his tea and set the cup down gently onto a saucer. “Can I escort you back? Like I said, my schedule is clear for the day, so it would be no trouble. That way, you won’t have to worry about anything on your way,” he offered. Barbatos knew they would never do anything to harm you, but if it would make you feel better, it was worth it.

You perked up, relief washing over your face. “I would appreciate it, those two like to scare me as much as it is.”

Taking a dessert to go, you and Barbatos left the teahouse and started the journey back to the House of Lamentation. On the way, you talked about everything from next year’s classes to Satan’s newest cat adoption antics. Barbatos felt at ease talking to you, as he always did. His worries for the celebration faded with every step as he let you take the wheel of the conversation. Before you knew it, you two were on the doorstep. 

“Thank you for walking me here, Barbs. We need to do this again sometime!” You opened the door and were about to wave goodbye when two arms pulled you into the foyer. Barbatos quickly moved inside, surprised by the sight that greeted him. 

Solomon and Simeon had trapped you in their arms, encircling you like twin felines playing a game of cat and mouse. Solomon’s deadly smirk was something you knew all too well, paired with Simeon’s laughing eyes, they had been out to get you from the start. “You fell right into our trap, MC~” Simeon purred in your ear, watching your eyes flit between the trio of people in the room. Well, one human, one angel, and one demon. The mischievous fire in Solomon’s eyes appeared anything *but* human to you in this moment. 

Solomon looked to the demon at the door, “What do you think is a fitting punishment for our friend here, Barbatos?” 

Barbatos slowly stepped forward until he was in front of you three, assessing the situation. “Seeing as they’ve confessed their transgressions to me already, I believe something… like this will suffice,” Barbatos reasoned, grinning at your shocked face.

“Barbatos! You’re supposed to be on my side- HEY!” Barbatos wormed his hand between you and Simeon to give your side a squeeze, making you curl into Solomon. Simeon started to snicker at the idea, using his free hand to scribble around your neck while Solomon’s smile grew wolfish. “I think that’s a great idea, don’t you think so, MC?” 

You were trying not to react to Simeon’s gentle scribbles, your cheeks puffing out and your lips pouting to hide your smile. “N-no! Not a great idea! Barbatos- help me!”

Raising an eyebrow, the demon tilted his head to the side, “You want me to help? Alright, I can manage that. After all, I have no obligations today, I can spend as much time as I want here.”

Barbatos latched onto your sides, kneading into them with sudden speed and vigor that you weren’t prepared for. Your straight faced facade went flying out the window as you tried to wiggle away from the tickles to no avail. Solomon and Simeon seemed to have the same idea, the angel’s fingers finding a home in your armpits and Solomon’s squeezing at your hipbones. “WHAHAHAIT! NOhOHoO!” 

You had endured tickle attacks from all three of them separately, but together, the trio was insufferably good at reducing you to a laughing fit. They continued to scribble and poke all over your worst spots, Simeon finding a good spot on your lower tummy that almost sent you backwards. Every time you got used to something, one of them would move, sending you into giggles all over again. 

“I almost forgot how ticklish they are! Solomon, keep that up,” Simeon laughed with delight at how you squirmed away from Solomon’s evil hands that were currently chasing your ribs. “If I were you, I would stay still- it would be done a looooot faster!” Solomon chirped from your left, tazing your ribs and making you fall into Barbatos’s waiting arms.

“Your laugh is almost as sweet as the tea, you know,” Barbatos whispered quietly, kneading into your lower back and sides, chuckling when you tried to pull away with a blush. Simeon gasped and excitedly pulled you away, hugging you tight against his chest. 

“Theres this thing I used to do to Luci when he would misbehave, let me show you!” He closed his eyes and you felt invisible feathers gliding across your ears and neck, making you scrunch up. The feathers seemed to reach all of your worst spots, soft but they tickled like hell. When you felt one graze the bottom of your foot, you squeaked in surprise, how was this even possible? Simeon’s laugh sounded like bells, contrasting with your loud and squealy one. “I cAhAHaAHaN’t! PlEHehAHeaSe!” 

He slowed down the feathers of his wings to softly stroke up and down your arms, letting you collapse into him. Solomon ruffled your hair, “You all tired out? I think it’s payback for making me sing through all of breakfast. Simeon looked like a fancy chicken this morning,” he laughed. Simeon rolled his eyes, “Did you learn your lesson, MC? Never mess with Purgatory Hall, or you’ll awaken the tickle monsters that live there!” He tapped your nose, taking note of your lingering smile and flushed cheeks. He grinned and gave you a hug, releasing you. 

Barbatos had his hands behind his back, almost like he hadn’t contributed to your ticklish demise. “The cake is still outside, would you like me to bring it in?” His sly smirk didn’t go unnoticed, you nodded, rolling your eyes. “You were supposed to help me!”

“I never said I would help you. Besides, I think you deserved a little prank back for the ones you performed,” he noted, bringing the slice of matcha cake inside. 

With a sigh, you took the bag, holding out the delectable sweet. “How about a truce? Do you guys wanna split this?” All three of them nodded, causing you to smile. As you made your way towards the den, Barbatos concluded that his day off was a day well spent.

[italeean]

The time of forgiveness... or not

A/N: Hellooo 💕 It feels like forever since I've last posted content on this blog, and I apologize for that... let's say that med school has been draining 😓 Anyway, I'll try to be more active starting from this year, although I'll make no promises because my first exam session is approaching, and I'll start with my gift for @tickles-and-cuddles for the @squealing-santa event! I wish you the happiest Christmas, my dear Star 💚🤍❤️ I can't not mention @hypahticklish and thank her for hosting this wonderful event! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! ✨️

WARNING: This is a tickle fic, if it's not to your taste, I don't suggest you read it

They said Christmas was the time of generosity, warmth, family, forgiveness... Well... Sasaki agreed with that, except for the forgiveness part. He was out for revenge, and he planned on showing no mercy.

Miyano, who had been spending the last couple of days at the redhead's place, thought it was a nice prank to splash him with water when he tried to kiss him in the morning, so he needed to return the favor... but how?

Hiding one of his manga volumes? Nah, too predictable, and Miyano would probably find it too soon. Pretending to be mad at him? Absolutely not, Miyano would get anxious and that wasn't Sasaki's plan. Splashing him back? Too easy... not the right idea

The older guy kept thinking and thinking, until the perfect idea came to his mind. He smirked, happy with his plan, and went to set everything up.

That evening, when Miyano came home, he called for his boyfriend but no one responded. He looked for him everywhere, and when he entered the living room, his eyes widened.

"Sasaki what the-?!"

His partner was on the couch with a cozy blanket and two mugs of hot chocolate on the table. "Welcome home, Miyano! Come here, I wanna cuddle with you~"

Miyano's face became so red that it was glowing, but he eventually obliged. The two students huddled on the couch, the taller one holding the other, and the dark-haired boy had to admit that it was pretty comfy thanks to the blanket and the sweet aroma of chocolate coming from the mugs.

At least until Sasaki started talking...

"So... I hope you enjoyed splashing me this morning..." Oh no, Miyano had completely forgotten about that! "Because I can't say I did~" The kouhai was on high alert now. He was sure that his boyfriend wasn't angry, but his tone was even more concerning. He was up to something, and Miyano understood what he was up to when he felt his fingers tightening around his sides.

Oh shoot... he had to act quickly! Without thinking twice about it, he turned around and dug his fingers into Sasaki's underarms, eliciting a gasp and some giggles. However, his advantage didn't last long. His lover grabbed his wrists, lifted him up and turned him around, making his back lean on his chest and keeping his hands pinned against his own chest.

"Tsk tsk... first you splash me and then you dare to tickle me? The audacity... someone must teach you manners~" "Wait Sasaki I didn't mean i- gaaahahahaha noooo!!" Before Miyano could even try to justify himself, five fingers dug into his poor tummy, squishing it and poking it without mercy.

The younger student squealed, laughed and kicked in the air, but his hands couldn't get free from his partner's grasp. "That's what you get! How do you like this? Does it tickle?" The redhead was surely enjoying himself, a little too much according to the kouhai, but it's not like he was gonna stop any time soon... not at all, actually. He chuckled at how his boyfriend shrieked when he wormed his hand under his shirt to tickle him even better (or worse... depends on the point of view)

"PFF- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU..! YOHOU'RE A MONSTEHEHEHER!!" The younger one scream-laughed when he felt the redhead's nails softly scraping on his skin. They felt excruciatingly soft, which made it all more tickly for him.

Sasaki, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. His lover was in his arms, laughing gleefully and secretly enjoying himself. Well... not so secretly, since he knew about it... let's say he thought he was being secretive, without thinking that Sasaki could read him like a book.

"A monster? Now I'm hurt!" The taller guy fake-gasped at Miyano's words, "Now I'll show you what a true monster would do~" In that instant, a sneaky finger dug into the kouhai's belly button and wiggled around, causing a loud stream of giggles, snorts, squeals and pleas to come from the smaller guy.

"PLEASE PLEASE STAHAHAHA-" Suddenly, his laughter went silent, and the taller guy took it as his cue to stop. The dark-haired boy panted and took greedy breaths, welcoming as much oxygen as he could in his lungs. "That was mean..." He whined, making the senpai chuckle.

"You're lucky I didn't go for your feet~" The redhead replied. That sentence alone caused a shiver to run down the shorter guy's spine. "You're lucky I'm feeling kind thanks to the Christmas spirit... I won't go for your feet this time. Take it as one of my Christmas gifts."

The two guys layed there for a second, enjoying each other's presence. "So... the chocolate should be still warm. How about you take a sip while I put on a cozy movie?" Sasaki asked, watching his lover's face light up at the proposition. He didn't need a verbal ansewer, his gleeful smile was more than enough for him.

The rest of the evening went on peacefully, with fluffy Christmas movies, hot chocolate, lots of laughter and warmth. After all, Christmas is the time of warmth and family.

[tricks-tickles]

merry (late) christmas and a happy new year to @blue-little-angel! trust me to finish this one singular day before the deadline haha, thank you to @squealing-santa for bearing w me. anyway here is your fic! i may have misread your prompt a little and so this is only sigma and nikolai but i hope you’re still happy with it. This is also my first bsd fic so sorry if the timeline/characterisation/vibes are off haha

ANYWAY

word count: 1228

pairing: Lee!Sigma & Ler!Nikolai

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Sigma~!’

He stayed very quiet. Focus on work: read over that paperwork… sign on the line, okay looking good-

‘Siiigma!’

Maybe if he was quiet enough Nikolai just wouldn’t see him. Like a T-Rex, if it’s not moving it can’t see it.

‘Ah! There you are~.’

Shit.

Out of all the members of the Decay of Angels, Nikolai was Sigma’s least favourite. He was far too unhinged, occasionally visiting Sigma just to threaten him as a joke, or play around with him. Never really hurting him though, Sigma suspected that Fyodor had ordered him not to.

That was another thing. Nikolai hated any time Sigma spent with Fyodor. Few as it was, in Nikolai’s opinion it was time that should have been spent with him instead. Nevermind that they were only discussing their great plan, or giving meagre updates on the Casino, according to Nikolai that was time that ought to have been spent with him, Fyodor’s best friend or boyfriend or whatever.

Sigma truly did not wish to be a part of either of their schemes. All he wanted to do was run his Casino. And yet.

“Sigma!” Nikolai pouted, “Why were you ignoring me?”

Sigma took in a long, measured breath.

“I did not mean to ignore you, I was just focussed on my work.” Which I would love to get back to, he thought bitterly.

“Oh, okay!” Nikolai said, taking a seat on his desk, scattering papers to the floor. Sigma leaned down to pick them up.

“It’s just… what were you up to today?” Nikolai said, seeming earnestly curious.

Sigma leaned back up, shuffling the stack back together and setting them down neatly on the desk. “I had breakfast with my head of staff, then had a brief meeting with Fyodor-”

“See,” Nikolai interrupted, “That’s what I heard, but I thought it couldn’t be true because Fyodor was meant to meet with me this morning and I thought ‘There’s no way my best friend Dostoy would blow me off for you!’, But now you’re telling me he did? Why would Dostoy do that?” He leaned in closer, kicking his feet childishly, “I think you must have done something… forced him.”

“I can assure you,” Sigma put on his best ‘Manager’ voice, “That I did in no way force Fyodor to meet with me, nor did I have any idea of your plans.”

“Hmm…” A mischievous grin broke out on Nikolai’s face, “If you say so~!”

For a second, Sigma hoped that would be all. For a second, he turned back to his desk and lifted his hand to the paper on top of the stack, when all of the papers were suddenly lifted away from him. He looked up, mouth open in protest as Nikolai tossed the papers into his cloak.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, a fluttering noise at the end of the room as the papers scattered out of Nikolai’s portal.

He did not turn to look, did not sigh, or even blink. Nikolai’s face was stretched into a massive, wobbly grin, as though he was trying not to laugh. It did not last long, as he burst into a loud, maniacal laugh. Now Sigma did sigh, as he raised from the chair and walked to the mess at the end of the room.

Apparently Nikolai did not deem this punishment enough, for as soon as he had turned his back he felt a heavy weight flop on top of him, arms wrapping around his core.

“Oh Sigma~.” Nikolai sang in his ear, and began prodding at his sides.

Fuck.

He tried to keep his composure, but Nikolai’s fingers were relentless, working their way under his blazer and pinching gently at his sides.

“Nik- Nikol- Nihikolahai! Stop!”

But it was too late, from his first laugh he knew he was a goner. Nikolai was like a shark, once he tasted blood (giggles) he was relentless. See, he may not have harmed Sigma, at least not physically, so his new favourite way to extract revenge came in the form of… tickles. Oh the humanity.

“Tickle tickle, Sigma~” Nikolai whispered, wiggling his fingers along his sides. Sigma felt his legs begin to give out as he fought against the laughter blooming within himself.

“I prohohomihihise! Ack- I did nohohohot fohohorce Fyodohohor to mehehehehehet mehehehe.” Sigma choked out, falling to his knees as Nikolai grew heavier on his back.

“Oh I know that, as if you could have any influence on Dostoy~.” As he spoke Nikolai’s hands worked up his body, pinching at his ribs and making him writhe.

Sigma squealed, his hands jumping up to weakly push Nikolai away, “Thehehen whahahat dohoho yohohouhu wahahahant!”

“You work too hard, Sigma. I’m just helping you relax.” Nikolai pouted.

“No yohohouhuhu aren- Hey!” Sigma’s arm slammed down as his quick fingers began to flutter under his arm.

“Sure I am. You don’t believe me?” Nikolai grinned, before putting on a hurt voice, “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Nohohohohoho!” Sigma called, even though that was exactly what he was doing. One of Nikolai’s hands was attempting to wriggle into his armpit, while the other was wrestling with his wrist, clamped tightly against his chest.

Nikolai rested his head on Sigma’s shaking shoulder. “I think you are~,” He cooed, “I don’t like liars.”

Sigma began to protest weakly, as Nikolai gripped his wrist and slowly forced his arm up, and into his cape.

It disappeared. There was a soft glow in front of them as his hand reappeared on the floor in front of them, and the portal tightened until he couldn’t pull it back through. He twisted till he was looking at Nikolai, still crouched over him and beaming.

“Noo, Nikolai please- just let me get back to work, you could see Fyodor now! Don’t waste your time on me, please.”

“Hmm,” He appeared to be considering it, but Sigma knew better than that by now. He braced himself.

“Nope~!” Nikolai called, and his fingers came skittering under Sigma’s arm.

He shrieked, pulling as hard as he could, but to no avail. He could do nothing but fall into hysterical cackles as his worst spot was clawed at mercilessly. He fell to the side a little, practically slumped in Nikolai’s arms as he half-hugged him to get at his spot, his other hand holding his cloak open.

“NIHIHIKOKOLAHAIHI!” Sigma cried.

“Is something the matter?” Came his shit eating response.

“YEHEHEHES, IHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHEHES!! PLEHEHEAHAHSE!” Nikolai’s response was to dig deeper, the tips of his fingers scratching into the divot under his arm while his thumb dug into Sigma’s ribs. He tipped his head back and laughed, now fully boneless against Nikolai.

After a long moment, he realised that Nikolai had stopped. He released the portal and Sigma’s arm came crashing through. For a second he lay there, panting, until he realised he was lying in Nikolai’s lap and shot up.

Nikolai followed him up, snickering, “You looked so comfortable~.” He teased.

Sigma blushed. “Yes well- is that all?” He really had no idea how to end these ‘sessions’.

“Mhm!” Nikolai said, skipping away, “I think I’ll go see if Dostoy wants to have tea with me, bye!”

And just like that, he was gone. Sigma turned around and sat heavily at his desk, still somewhat short on breath.

There was silence, then another fluttering of paper. He looked up, confused and blinked at the messy stack that had appeared on his desk, only catching the last golden glimmer of a portal. Sigma swung round in his chair, but Nikolai was gone.

One single piece of paper drifted from the top of the stack towards the floor.

Sighing, Sigma picked it up and got back to work.

[alexielve]

HELLO EVERYONE!! This is a bit late but Merry Christmas! This year, I got @woollymutt for the squealing santa event, sooo I hope you enjoy your gift! Thank you for hosting this event again Hypah! @squealing-santa

Pairing: Miles x Hobie (PLATONIC !!)

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if it's not your cup of tea keep scrolling!!

Being spiderman was never easy, whether it was saving whole dimensions from collapse or being shoved against a train violently and being told you were a mistake. Miles definitely could say he wasn't fond of his job, but hey, it's what had to be done. In between all that, there was definitely an added bonus to having the abilities he did, like having to run from a very annoyed Hobie who was chasing after him.

"MILES. GET BACK HERE YOU BRAT"

"WAIT- Wait Hobie let's talk about this yea?"

If you're wondering what got Miles into this situation, let me enlighten you. Earlier that day, Miles and Hobie were hanging out in his Hobie's dimension (It's the perfect place for crashing, can you blame him?) and unbeknownst to him, he had eaten something Hobie was waiting on eating all day.

"YOU ATE MY BLOODY FOOD MAN, GET BACK HERE."

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS YOURS I SWEAR! I'M SORRY!"

The chase had started at least ten minutes ago, but no matter what Miles did and no matter how many sharp corners he bent, he could never seem to get Hobie off his tail.

"MAN CMON I'M SORRY I'LL GET YOU MORE- Wait huh?"

Miles paused mid swing, and landed on a roof, with no sign of Hobie at all. Sighing with relief, he took a seat and laid back, closing his eyes.

"Finally, not being chased by that annoying, angry brit."

"What was that mate?"

Miles jumped and opened his eyes, screaming slightly as Hobie immediately pinned him down before he could escape.

"How did-"

"I was here the whole time, don't question it. Now what were you saying about me being an annoying, angry brit?"

Miles squirmed and smiled nervously, seeing how Hobie's face had a mischievous but still mildly annoyed grin on it.

"Wait- Wait Hobie I swear- I'm sorry man cmohon-"

Hobie huffed at Miles' frantic squirming and pleading, but in response, he only switched their positions so that he held Miles in his lap, lowering his hands closer and closer to the younger spider's tummy.

"Your sorries won't get it back, and I think I deserve some revenge for you calling me annoying yea?"

With that, Hobie dropped his hands, drilling deep into the muscle of Miles' tummy.

"sHIHIHIT- HOHOBIHIE IHIM SOHOHORRY-"

"Yes yes I know, I want to see you laugh as well so you're stuck until I get bored. Who's a ticklish little spider Miles? I think you are with how much you're laughing~"

Miles went red at the teases and laughed harder, thrashing in Hobie's hold, but no matter how much he squirmed, Hobie had a solid hold on him.

"Stop squirming mate jeez, you're more like a wiggly snake than a spider."

Hobie chuckled and switched to squeezing and pinching at Miles' sides, drawing out sweet giggles from the younger.

"IhIhI proHohOmiHihise- IhIhi wohOhon't stEheheaL yOhour foHoHOod-"

"Yea? Good~ Now onee last thing~"

"WAIT NOHO- NO- HOBIHIHIHIE-"

Miles threw his head back as he burst into loud cackles, caused by the continous onslaught of raspberries that were being blown on his neck.

"Okay okay I'll stop now, you're so ticklish."

Hobie chuckled as he paused, allowing Miles to curl up into a ball, still giggling from the residual tingles.

"So have you learnt your lesson?"

"Don't steal food unless I really need it."

Miles laughed as he ran off again, jumping and swinging away from where they were.

"OH YOU BRAT COME BACK HERE."

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Brotherly love

A/N: Hi @13phantom13angel13, I am your squealing santa this year! As an avid batboys fan, I really hope you enjoy what I wrote and that I did them justice. Happy December!

Summary: After a mission doesn't fit up to Red Robin's standards, it's up to Jason to step up to his big brother role.

Word count: 549

___________________________________________

“I hate to be that guy, but I’m the angsty one here. So I’m gonna need you to stop'' Jason spoke, leaning against Tim’s door frame. The latter sulked in bed after his latest mission. In a house full of egocentric detectives, any small mistake seemed like the end of the world.

In true Drake fashion, he didn’t bother communicating, simply huffed and crossed his arms. Laying on his side, facing away from his older brother. If facial expressions made noise, the whole mansion would’ve heard Jason’s aggressive eye roll. 

This was definitely the moment where he’d walk away, but for some reason, his legs stayed cemented in place. As much as he hated being the ‘caring’ older brother, he can’t just let poor Tim sulk, right? So with a groan, Jason made his way in, sitting at the foot of the bed. 

“C’mon, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad”.

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t there!” The younger’s voice grew in intensity before falling flat once more. “Just leave me alone…”.

Well, talking it out sure didn’t work, time for plan B: do things the Jason way. All that time learning to torment his brothers wasn’t left in vain, as it came handy whenever one of them fell a bit too stubborn. 

So with a sigh, Jason casually got up, making Tim believe he was finally leaving, only to suddenly be pinned on his own bed. Back pressed against the mattress and hands held firmly above his head.

“You seriously think I’m gonna let you sulk all by yourself? You’re even dumber than I thought” 

“I’m not dumb— W-wahait! Not thahahat!” whatever anger Tim felt was quickly dissolved into light titters, as strong fingers started to drag up and down his side. 

“See? Much better. A smile suits you more” Jason couldn’t help form a grin of his own, watching the younger robin slowly losing his composure. Trying to endure and act tough, only to fall back and give in to the laughter.

“Stohop it! I’m seherious- Gyah!! Pfft! Ahahahaha! Jahahason!” Red Robin let out a flustered whine, trying to shield his ever-growing red face behind his bound arm. His body desperately trying to wiggle away as Red Hood’s tickly fingers danced all over his abdomen.

“Not a chance! When’s the last time you let loose and had a good laugh? Either way, I’m changing that now~”

An ear-shattering squeal erupted from the younger brother when Jason started scratching at the soft spot below his navel. 

“EEEEK! PFFT! NAHAHAHA! OKAY! OKAHAHAY! I CAHAHAN’T!” poor Tim gasped and wheezed in uncontrollable laughter. Words falling deaf as he desperately tried telling Jason to stop. 

After a few more squeals and cries of ticklish agony did Jason finally let up. Allowing Tim to take in a well-deserved breath. 

Once the happy rush passed, an awkward silence fell upon the boys. Jason cleared his throat, about to head out, before being stopped by a small ‘wait’ from Tim.

“I- uhh… just wanted to say, thanks for that…” the young robin didn’t bother meeting the older one’s gaze. It wasn’t everyday they had such a pure, brotherly moment.

“No problem, Timmers” Jason shot back with a soft smile before walking out. Maybe acting like an older brother wasn’t so bad after all.

___________________________________________

[strawberriesinbloom]

That Kind of Day, Huh?

MJ/Peter/Miguel

Summary:

Miguel flinched as his breathing wobbled. He placed a hand over MJ’s hand, which had accidentally wandered a little too close to his side. “Ah, not there,” he muttered. It didn’t take an observant individual to notice the way he had stumbled over his words.

“What? You ticklish, buddy?” Peter asked while crossing his arms. 

Miguel scoffed. He lifted his head to give Peter an unimpressed glance his way. Refusing to dignify Peter’s question with a response, he rolled his eyes and laid back down. 

Word Count: 2037

A/N:

Happy holidays, @tickly-tufts. I'm your Secret Santa for @squealing-santa. This was a cute idea. I hope you enjoy :)

This is a tickle fic btw

~🍓~

Peter B. Parker had just finished putting his daughter to bed. He snuck one last kiss on her forehead before quietly leaving the nursery. Although he loved spending time with Mayday, she could be a handful at times, and Peter was more than happy to have some quality downtime with his wife.

‘Wife’ he repeated in his head. God, he missed that word.

Peter practically pranced into his bedroom. A pet name was already rolling off the tip of his tongue when he was suddenly shushed. Peter faltered slightly, stopping in his tracks with his hand still on the doorknob.

MJ was sitting up in bed with her back resting against the headboard. Her index finger was raised to her lips. Her cheeks were puffed out, as though preparing to shush him again.

But, that wasn’t the weird part. The weird part was the fact that Miguel O’Hara was lying in MJ’s arms with his head resting on her chest. 

Peter cocked his head to the side. “Miguel?”

Usually, he texted before stopping by the Parker’s place.

The dopey smile on Miguel’s face vanished as he flashed Peter an irritated glare. He turned his head, so he was no longer facing him.

“He had a long day,” MJ explained, now that silence was no longer a pretense. Her long nails gently scratched up and down the expanse of Miguel’s back. If Peter listened closely, he swore he could hear the guy purring. “So, I expect you to not get into any of your usual antics, alright?”

Peter let out an amused huff of air. “Antics? Since when have I ever gotten into any ‘antics’?” He grinned as he sauntered over to the bedside next to MJ. “I’ve never done anything of the sort in my entire life.”

MJ rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, okay, whatever you say.” She laughed a little when Peter leaned down to kiss her.

“So, what has gotten this whiny baby in such a mood?” Peter asked once he straightened back up.

Miguel sucked his teeth. “You do realize I can hear you, right?” He scrunched up his shoulder blades a little once MJ started to caress the upper parts of his back.

MJ teasingly tousled Miguel’s hair. “He won’t say,” she told Peter. “I just think he needs some comfort tonight.” 

Miguel flinched as his breathing wobbled. He placed a hand over MJ’s hand, which had accidentally wandered a little too close to his side. “Ah, not there,” he muttered. It didn’t take an observant individual to notice the way he had stumbled over his words.

“What? You ticklish, buddy?” Peter asked while crossing his arms. 

Miguel scoffed. He lifted his head to give Peter an unimpressed glance his way. Refusing to dignify Peter’s question with a response, he rolled his eyes and laid back down. 

“Aw, come on, Miguel. You aren’t even going to answer me?” Peter began poking and prodding at Miguel’s side. He delighted in the way Miguel jumped at each jab.

“Peter…” MJ said.

Peter grinned. “I’m just trying to help him feel better. They don’t say that laughter is the best medicine for nothing.” He turned his attention toward Miguel. “So, come on, let’s hear that laugh of yours.”

Without warning, Peter squeezed Miguel’s waist, causing Miguel to curl up in on himself. “Stop that!” he growled. Miguel’s voice was low and gruff, but his tough persona was softened by how hard he was trying to avoid Peter’s gaze. 

The corners of Miguel’s lips began to perk up when Peter’s fingers started digging into his hips. He grabbed his wrist in an attempt to pry him off of him, but, interestingly enough, Miguel’s grip was loose and half-hearted.

Miguel gasped, as his eyes widened in fear. “M-MJ…!” he choked out. He began to thrash around, and Peter looked up to see MJ drilling her fingers inside Miguel’s armpits.

“What? I can’t have you having all of the fun,” she said when she noticed Peter’s expression. MJ continued her assault on Miguel’s sensitive skin. He tried to push himself up and presumably get off of her, but MJ was quicker than him. She hooked her legs over his back, trapping him in place.

Miguel barely managed to choke out MJ’s name again before using both hands to clamp his mouth shut. Peter clawed at Miguel’s stomach, which was driving him up the wall. His cheeks flushed, as Peter focused his attention on a particular spot that made Miguel writhe in place.

“Wow, you sure are stubborn, Miguel,” Peter said, enjoying the glare he was shooting him. “Not even a giggle?”

MJ’s fingers traveled down Miguel’s body and settled against his ribs, where she used her long nails to her full advantage and scratched at such a sensitive spot. As though to answer Peter’s question, Miguel tossed his head back and shrieked. He burst into loud laughter that almost made Peter flinch.

“AHAHA! Stahap! Stahahahap it! Both ohof you! EheEHEhehe…! Th—this isn’t funny!” Miguel’s eyes were squeezed shut as a wide smile overtook half of his face.

Peter wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the guy smile before, much less laugh, so this was a welcome sight. Miguel’s laughter wasn’t what he was expecting to come from a guy like him, either. It was loud, boisterous, and almost a little frantic. Miguel’s smile was a little lopsided from him desperately trying to stop himself from laughing.

“You have a nice laugh, Miguel,” MJ said, “It’s a shame we don’t get to hear it more often.” She shoved her fingers against his neck. He started to giggle and scrunch his shoulders up before she even had the chance to tickle him there.

Miguel giggling? Now, that was funny. It was, dare he say it, cute to see the way MJ could elicit such high-pitched noises from Miguel. At some point, Miguel squeaked. He stilled himself for a moment before burying his face in the crook of her elbow out of embarrassment. MJ only laughed, as she kept tickling him.

“This ihihisn’t fair! Hehehe…hehehaHAHAHA!” His laughter grew an octave or two when Peter started to spider his fingers against Miguel’s ribs. This was a sensitive area for him, which meant that this little weakness had to be exploited as much as possible. Miguel growled again, as he flailed about until he was on his side. “Peheheter! Peheheheter, I’ll—I’m going to kihihihill you! Ahahaha!” The threatening nature of his threats was drowned out by the desperation in his voice.

“I’d like to see you—oh, hey, wait, are those fangs?” Peter’s previous train of thought was left forgotten once he noticed a pair of rather sharp incisors sticking out of his mouth.

Miguel pressed his lips together in another attempt to stop himself from laughing. MJ tickled him underneath his chin, causing him to erupt in soft giggles once again. “Yeah, they are fangs,” MJ said, “That’s cute!”

“Very cute,” Peter agreed right before he vibrated his fingers against Miguel’s ribs. 

“Grr…ahahaha! I’m warning you, Peheheter!” He jutted his leg up, and it took Peter a moment to realize that Miguel was trying to kick him away. Peter stepped to the side and grabbed both of Miguel’s legs. Miguel gasped when Peter swung his leg over and sat on Miguel’s knees. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“This,” Peter answered before squeezing and pinching Miguel’s thighs. Miguel screamed. He screamed before melting into a loud cackle of a laugh. “Whoa! Calm down!” Peter shouted after he was almost bucked off, but he held his ground. He might have found Miguel’s most ticklish spot, and he wasn’t going to go down that easily. 

Peter kept skittering his fingers along Miguel’s thighs and occasionally drilled his thumbs into his hips just to keep him on his toes. Miguel shrieked every time he did that. MJ tickled his neck, sometimes choosing to flick the back of his ears, which made Miguel tilt his head side to side repeatedly in a futile way to get away from the sensation.

“Hahaha! This is toohoohoo much! Stahahap this instahAHAha—” Miguel swore when MJ decided to jab her fingers inside of Miguel’s armpits again. 

Just as Peter was about to tickle Miguel’s sides, Miguel grabbed both of Peter’s hands. Miguel glowered at Peter, who was trying to give up the biggest, most innocent doe eyes he could muster. Miguel paused for a beat before unceremoniously throwing Peter across the room.

“Peter!” MJ shouted, a hint of amusement at the back of her voice. She unhooked her legs from Miguel and tried to stifle a giggle. “Are you okay?”

Peter grunted when he landed on the floor, but he was quick to get up and dust himself off. “Never better,” he said, pretending to flex his arms. Now freed, Miguel got up and slowly crawled over to the other side of the bed. When Peter noticed this, he smirked. “Oh no, you don’t!” He ran over and tackled Miguel to the bed.

Miguel snarled but didn’t try to break free from Peter’s grip. “What’s wrong with you?” He looked at MJ, who was trying her hardest to hide her smile. She was failing quite badly. “Both of you! What’s wrong with both of you?” He was breathless, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. 

“Aww, don’t be like that Miguel. We were only trying to cheer you up.” Peter clasped his hands onto Miguel’s sides. Miguel gave him a wary look but didn’t say anything. “Besides, don’t think MJ and I didn’t notice how you didn’t even try to stop us in any capacity.”

“Except for when he tossed you off the bed,” MJ chimed in.

“Yes, except for when you tossed me off of the bed,” Peter responded, a little miffed at his cool moment being dampened. “But, other than that, you didn’t do anything. I mean, you’re a Spider-Man! You have more than enough ways to stop us if you wanted to.” Peter slowly massaged Miguel’s sides, earning some soft and awkward laughter from him. “That’s the key phrase, isn’t it? If you wanted to.”

MJ shuffled over so that she was sitting right next to them. “Miguel,” she said, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Do you like being tickled?” Her tone wasn’t particularly accusatory. It was kind of sweet, as though she was asking how Miguel’s day was.

“Mhmhmm…I—I don’t ehehe…I don’t…mmph!” Miguel laid his hands on top of Peter’s hands once they started to wander too far up his torso. Peter could tell that Miguel was searching for some sort of excuse or way to get out of this predicament. “I, uh, didn’t wahahant to hurt MJ.”

“You gotta give yourself more credit than that. You have great control over your abilities. There’s no way you’d accidentally hurt anyone,” Peter said.

When he couldn’t think of anything else, Miguel sighed and accepted defeat. “Okahahay, maybe—maybe just a little…” He mumbled that last part but Peter could hear him loud and clear.

“Oh, that’s adorable,” MJ said, leaning in to kiss Miguel on the cheek, “Are you feeling better now?”

Miguel pried Peter’s hands off of him. He stared at the bed, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. “Yeah, I guess,” he said quietly, “More or less.”

“I knew it would!” Peter said. He grabbed Miguel’s face and gave him a messy kiss on the cheek. He stopped when Miguel’s groan suddenly turned into quiet giggles.

“Your stubble,” Miguel explained, rubbing his cheek. “It tickles.”

“Miguel,” Peter said in awe, “How ticklish are you, buddy?” Peter expected Miguel to make another snarky comment. He did not expect to be completely flipped over on his back. “M—Miguel?” he repeated, as his threatening figure loomed over him.

“Not as ticklish as you,” Miguel simply responded before digging his fingers into Peter’s armpits.

“Wahahahait! Hahaha! Let’s talk this out!” Peter shook his head back and forth. He lifted his hand to try to push Miguel out of the way, only to immediately clamp his arm down when Miguel’s tickling increased tenfold. “Hahaha…AH! MJ!” Peter screeched when he felt something skitter along the undersides of his feet. This was going to be a long night.

[lovelynim]

2 centimeters

Squealing Santa 2023 Genshin Impact - Kaeya & Diluc

A/N: Merry Christmas, Mango-anon! That's right, I'm your @squealing-santa this year!

Heheh, isn't it funny that we changed the roles? After getting a gift from you in last year's SS, I tried to come up with something just as special - hopefully I made it up to your expectations!

Also, I couldn't find any canon info about the characters' height, so let's just go along with this one, yeah?

I just want to wish you a happy holiday season and thank @hypahticklish for hosting the event again!

Summary: When you are decorating the place, 2 cm can make a lot of difference.

Word count: 1338 words

“I think I remember this one, brother,” Kaeya chirped happily as he gently pulled another decoration from inside that old chest. Pinching the string that was attached to the toy to hold it up to his line of sight, Kaeya admired the golden, star-shaped object as it brought him some old memories from his childhood. “Hah, last time I saw this one, we still-”

“Care to do something other than reminiscing?” Diluc interrupted, with a frown on his face. Letting out an audible grunt, the redheaded dropped another box on top of the counter - also full of decorations.

By the end of the year, the people of Mondstadt had the tradition of decorating their houses to celebrate the arrival of winter and to cherish the moments they had together throughout that year. At least, most of the people did it.

Diluc wasn’t sure when it was the last time he had bothered to do something like this. He was even more clueless about why he decided to do it this time. Maybe his change of heart had something to do with the traveler or the latest events? Maybe after spending so much time with that spoiled bard was, at last, affecting him? Maybe was he sick? Diluc didn’t know - and did it really matter at this point? He looked to the side, spotting Kaeya’s smug, amused glance at him. Diluc rolled his eyes.

“My, of course, brother. I just couldn’t help myself… All the sweet memories coming back to my mind,” Kaeya mused poetically - mostly to annoy his brother even further. “I’m sure the winery will look just as lovely when we are done decorating it.”

Kaeya quickly got back to his feet, starting to hang a few garlands near the entrance, adding the ones that resembled small berries and snow flakes to enhance the composition even further. The captain smiled, proud of his work. “What do you think, Diluc?” Kaeya sighed proudly, placing his hands over his hips as he admired the results of his efforts.

However, as more seconds passed by and there was no sign of answers from his dear brother, Kaeya repeated himself, this time also looking back. “Diluc? What do you… think…”

“Just- agh, just a second,” Diluc grunted, gritting his teeth and stretching his arm as high as he could. Standing on the tip of his toes and leaning against the shelves, Diluc tried to place a bright, golden star on top of a tree - a spot that was clearly out of his reach.

Kaeya scoffed quietly, surprised that his brother would find such difficulties in such a simple task. “Do you need a hand? I could lift you if you want-”

“Shut it,” Diluc groaned, planting his heels back into the ground - and if looks could kill, Kaeya would’ve been sent to Celestia right at that moment. Diluc, already having his patience running short, looked at Kaeya’s work.

His eyes, despite all the charming decorations, focused on a garland that hung right in the middle of the composition. Diluc did the math inside his head and that thing was standing almost as high as the tip of the tree and, with no stairs or chairs around, it seemed that Kaeya managed to reach that spot effortlessly. Diluc felt that sight leaving a scratch on his ego. “Yeah, it’s decent I think,” Diluc huffed.

“Decent? Well, it’s still a compliment from you, I suppose, so I’ll assume I did a good job,” Kaeya crossed his arms, with a smug look on his face. The captain looked around and, after a few hours of work, they were almost done with the winery’s decoration: all that was left was the golden star in Diluc’s hand. “Let me finish that for you, brother.”

“What?” Diluc arched his eyebrow, turning his attention back to Kaeya.

“I said: let me finish that for you,” Kaeya repeated while approaching Diluc, reaching out his hand, waiting for the star to be handed to him.

“There is no need, I can do it myself,” Diluc narrowed his eyes and Kaeya chuckled. “What’s so funny?” The winery’s master muttered, getting back on the tip of his toes as he tried to reach the top of the tree.

“How tall are you?”

“W-what?” Diluc gasped, feeling a faint heat taking place in his hands. “What’s with this all of the sudden?” The reddish tones began to take a brighter shade around the tip of Diluc’s ears, almost matching his hairtone.

“Just curiosity,” Kaeya giggled, standing by Diluc’s side. Kaeya placed a hand over the top of his own head and moved it, hovering it just a couple of centimeters above Diluc’s. “Oh, I’m taller, indeed. I never noticed you were the smaller one…”

“S-so?” Diluc sighed annoyed, getting even angrier when he saw the way Kaeya looked at him. “It’s just… what? 2 centimeters? It’s not that much of a difference, it might even be thanks to the heels of your boots.”

“Well, brother, you see, 2 centimeters can make a lot of difference,” Kaeya teased, looking up to the tip of the tree. “Come on, let me help you ~”

“I don’t need your help,” Diluc insisted, determined to shut his brother by placing that damned star on top of the tree.

“Suit yourself.”

Kaeya watched carefully as Diluc tried to reach that spot again, holding the golden star with the tip of his fingers, barely keeping a hold on it. Almost there… so close… 

“G-gah!” Diluc squeaked when he felt a pair of hands holding him by his waist. He felt another electric shock spread across his body when fingers dug into the spot - with just enough pressure so they could get a grip on his body.

“Q-quit squirming, you’re kind of heavy, you know?” Kaeya grunted, nearly getting hit by a flailing limb. With some effort, Kaeya managed to lift Diluc, getting him high enough so he could reach the top of the tree. “Hurry up..!”

“I- agh, aham tr-tryihihing!” Diluc choked on a laugh, struggling to reach out and place the star when all the nerves on his body were telling him to press his arms down his body. His brother being Kaeya, Diluc couldn’t be sure if that… feeling was a mere accident or something planned. “S-stohop squeehezing me lihihike t-that, you- ahah- ack!!”

“H-hoh?” Kaeya gasped, still managing to pull a tease in a situation like this. Diluc’s squirming was making it harder to keep him high up, but Kaeya would rather have them both falling to the ground than lose a chance to provoke Diluc like this. “H-how can you be… heh, this ticklish being this… short?”

“I’m nohot!” Diluc groaned, hitting Kaeya’s leg with his heel (mostly because of how his leg flailed than because he wanted to). 

“You’re not what? Short or ticklish? Because it looks like you’re both” Kaeya squeezed Diluc’s waist again and a strangled laugh escaped his brother’s lips. Kaeya smirked. “J-just put the star over there, my arms are getting tired.”

“If you- ahah, f-fine!” Diluc groaned in defeat, grabbing the tree with one hand and pulling it closer. Finding it more difficult than it should be, at last, Diluc managed to place the golden star in place, quickly tapping his brother’s hand. “D-done! Put me down! Puhuhut me down!”

“As you wish, brother,” Kaeya said, lowering his brother back down until he could place his feet on the ground - safe and sound. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Diluc breathed deeply, telling himself mentally this wasn’t the time to call Kaeya names and deciding that, just this once, he would let it slide… that, of course, under one condition. “One word about it…,” he threatened Kaeya - so brotherly-like of him.

“Huh? Or what?” Kaeya provoked him again, poking Diluc’s side and making him jerk away with a sharp gasp. “Come on, asking your big brother for help it’s nothing to be ashamed of…”

“Kaeya, no.” Diluc warned, wrapping his arms around his torso, “I’m serious. Kaeya, nohOHOH!! KahAHAHayea!”

[ticklishraspberries]

Family (Kazuki/Rei)

Summary: Kazuki discovers that Rei is ticklish. (Here is my fic for Squealing Santa 2k23, and I’m writing for *drumroll*...@tiklart!! I really hope you enjoy your fic. And a special thanks to @hypahticklish for running this event and being so lovely. Happy holidays to everyone!! xo)

Working and living together forced a sort of intimacy that both Rei and Kazuki weren’t exactly familiar with. Kazuki had been, once, but ever since that loss, he had closed himself off to forming such bonds, whereas Rei had never been so known to another person, and it sort of freaked him out.

The benefit was, of course, that it was beneficial to know one’s partner in their line of work. They had a basis of trust, of security. They worked well together, and had no reason to jeopardize that.

But there was also the domesticity of it all that was…Well, strange. Kazuki was like a proper housewife, cooking and cleaning and taking care of everything. Rei had grown up with money and maids, never had to care for himself, so that was welcomed. It was a little rude of him to leave it all up to Kazuki, but social skills were also not his strong suit, so he had no idea how to thank him, let alone help him with the chores. 

It was a calm day in their apartment, for once. There were no hits to be completed, nothing to do. Miri was at daycare, giving them some much needed peace and quiet. While Rei saw it as an opportunity to do more of nothing than usual, Kazuki was taking advantage of the day off, cleaning the apartment and prepping some meals to cook throughout the week, in his apron and all.

Rei often called him a housewife, which made Kazuki scoff and say something like, “So, what does that make you? My lazy husband?” which had once made Rei blush, but he had since gotten used to the banter. In a way, their dynamic had become almost like a marriage. They did everything together. And, well, Rei wasn’t complaining. Kazuki was a good-looking guy, no doubt about it, but they had never done anything to actually be a couple. They were just roommates and co-workers, arguably friends, who had now stumbled upon a little girl that they were raising as their own. As her two dads. Who weren’t married or even dating. It was a weird dynamic, for sure.

After cleaning Miri’s room, doing some laundry, cooking, and cleaning, all before noon, Kazuki plopped down on the couch beside Rei with a sigh.

Rei was, as usual, engrossed in a video game, and ignored his presence entirely.

“You know, you could have offered to help me out,” Kazuki said.

Rei made a noise in response, something between a grunt and a hum. An acknowledgement, but not agreeing or disagreeing. Not even listening.

Kazuki rolled his eyes. “Are you even paying attention?”

Rei repeated the noise, and Kazuki gave an annoyed huff.

“Earth to Rei,” he said, waving a hand next to his face.

Rei ignored him. He was so close to finishing the level, he wasn’t going to stop now! He focused intently, determined to finish with a perfect score.

He had expected Kazuki to just give up, leave him alone, like he usually did. But instead, Kazuki jabbed him in the ribs with two fingers, an unexpected touch that made him yelp and jump, tilting his controller in the process and effectively making him lose the level.

Rei turned with a disgruntled expression. “What do you want?”

“What was that?” Kazuki asked. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Are you injured from that last hit? Why didn’t you tell me? Let me see!”

“I’m not hurt, you’re just being annoying,” Rei replied with a glare. “You made me lose.”

“Did that guy hit you in the ribs? I swear, if you’ve broken something and didn’t say anything, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Kazuki began experimentally prodding Rei’s side, determined to find the supposed injury and probably cause Rei a little bit of pain as a lesson in getting shit checked out right away, but instead, Rei wriggled away with a level of energy he only showed while on the job.

“Cut it out!” he said.

“But if you’re hurt, I—”

“I’m not hurt, dumbass, just leave me—”

“Wait a second. Are you…Did that tickle?” Kazuki asked, something like realization appearing on his face.

Rei’s face grew hot. “Of course not.”

“Oh, really? So you wouldn’t mind if I did…This?”

Kazuki leapt across the couch at him, fingers finding his belly with surprising ease. Rei, with all his training, had seen it coming but forgotten any practical means of escape, and simply shouted and squirmed, like he wasn’t a fucking assasian from one of the most feared families in Japan.

He bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to laugh, his long limbs flailing and trying to hit Kazuki anywhere that would disarm him, but Kazuki was just as strong and tactical as he was.

When Kazuki’s fingers found his ribs again, Rei couldn’t contain it any longer, a giggle slipping out. He would never describe it as such, but it was definitely a giggle. Slightly high-pitched and hysterical, and kind of adorable, although he would also hate that description.

“Wait until I tell Miri,” Kazuki teased.

“Don’t you dare,” Rei spat, gasping for air between laughter.

“Oh, c’mon! You know how much she likes to see you smile.”

“I’m not smiling!”

“You’re right, you’re actually laughing. My bad. Miri will like that even better! I can just imagine the look on her little face when she finds out Papa Rei is ticklish!”

“I am not ticklish,” Rei said through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to laugh again, as if it would do him any good. Kazuki had a good grip on his torso and was tormenting his sides and ribs with the dexterity of someone who knew their way around a trigger, as well as a sewing needle.

“Oh, you’re not? Then what’s so funny?”

“Fuck off!”

“Language!”

“She’s not even here!”

Rei kicked and swung his arms and even attempted to bite Kazuki a few times, but he was weak with laughter and eventually slumped against the cushions, laughing helplessly.

“Admit it and I’ll stop,” Kazuki said.

“Never!” Rei replied. He had been trained by his family to withstand worse torture than this. He would find a way to get out of this situation…But what then? Kazuki was never going to let this go. And if the kid found out…Ugh, he was totally screwed.

Kazuki’s hands darted upward and underneath Rei’s arms, making his laughter reach a new octave. It didn’t take long for him to crack.

“Fine, fine! I’m fucking ticklish, okay? Now stop!”

Kazuki did, immediately, a smug smile on his face. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I hate you,” Rei said.

His normally pale cheeks were flushed and his eyes were watery, his hair even messier than usual, his hoodie and sweatpants rumpled. As he caught his breath, he noticed Kazuki staring.

“What?” he asked, scowling.

“You just…You should laugh more. You look…You look cute,” Kazuki said, stumbling over his words as he also blushed.

Rei’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m not…Fuck off,” he said, but he was fighting a smile.

“I’m serious though! You just…Miri’s right. It’s nice to see you smile.”

Rei opened his mouth to reply, then his eyes caught the time on the television. “Shit. We have to go pick her up.”

Kazuki looked at the time as well, jumping up from the couch. “Crap, you’re right. Let’s go!”

And in the chaos of grabbing their shoes and coats, their minds were distracted from their previous antics and conversation. It wasn’t until later that evening, when Miri had fallen asleep in his lap, that Rei revisited those words in his mind.

Cute? Really? It wasn’t the most flattering of compliments for a grown man to receive, but coming from Kazuki…Well, it had felt nice.

Maybe roommates and coworkers and co-parents weren't all that they were. Maybe they could be something more. The thought made his cheeks grow warm. As he looked down at Miri, their daughter, he truly felt that they were the perfect little family.

[gingerlee-holds]

Viper's Venom

The info for this fic is here! TLDR: this is my Squealing Santa for @angelatmidnight1! It was very fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Goodness, I hope I haven't forgotten something-!

Word Count: 2,193 Reading Time: ~17 minutes Warnings: Mentions of death, tickling Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader (Implied romantic)

"Fresh blood oranges, right from the tree!" Y/N Sand shouted. The announcement of goods and their prices, along with many other varieties of speech, filled the Dornish bazaar, which made it very hard to hear oneself think. Luckily, Y/N has spent the last decade of their life training their craft in this place, selling their family's blood oranges and making a lot of money from it, too. 

Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, with its warm climate and scent of fiery peppers, always brought peace of mind to Y/N. They wore an orange robe to match the fruit they sold, with a golden necklace around their neck that glittered like the sun. They always loved it when the wind blew through the market because the sweet smell of her blood oranges could travel far.

A man in a yellow cloak appeared in the crowd, whose saunter caught Y/N's attention. He approached the stall, picking up an orange and inspecting it closely.

"This is fine fruit," he said, more to himself than the seller. 

Y/N smiled at such an opportunity landing in front of them. "You have a good eye! These are among the finest blood oranges in Dorne. Can't be beaten within a hundred miles around by the gods!" 

He looked up from the orange in his hand to look at Y/N thoughtfully. "I have had enough of blood for a while." His accent was distinctly Dornish, his face was sharp, and his eyes were piercing. "In short, I am not interested in your wares."

"I'm sorry to hear that, friend. Another day, perhaps!"

The man leaned over the counter. "I never said I was leaving," he said softly. A tense minute of silence followed as each studied the other's face. Finally, the man smiled, mumbling, "You are a Sand."

A blush of embarrassment crept up Y/N's face at the mention of their low birth. "You have a better eye than I thought," they said, trying to keep a grin on their face.

"Oh, do not be ashamed, sweet thing. Sands are my favorite." He smiled with all his teeth. "My absolute favorite."

Finally, a flash of recognition came across Y/N's face as they realized the man's identity. "You're Oberyn Martell- Prince Oberyn Martell!"

"I am, yes. And you are?"

"Y/N Sand. I'm glad to see you're doing okay. You didn't announce your arrival?"

"I do not like entourages." 

"Then why have you come here? Were you seeking to find something?"

"I was seeking to find someone, and now I have."

"We were all worried when you heard you were fighting in the trial by combat, especially for the Imp. How did you-"

The prince quickly put a hand to Y/N's lips. "Shhhh, sh, sh. Enough talk. Would you like a visit to the Water Gardens?"

"Your palace? I could find the time." Y/N smiled shyly, touching their necklace. 

Prince Oberyn smiled with his teeth again, holding Y/N's hand as he led them away from the busy market. 

As they walked together through the streets, Y/N continued asking questions, keeping their hand on their necklace the whole time.

"So, how did you win?"

"Hm? Against Gregor Clegane?"

"That brute. The Mountain that Rides. I heard he was nine feet tall!"

Oberyn chuckled. "Closer to eight, by my estimate." Another silence followed. "I poisoned my blade. That is all I need to say about that."

Y/N touched their necklace again.

"Why do you keep doing that? Your necklace."

"Ah, it was given to me by a handsome merchant a few years back for my help with some errands. He said it made me more attractive, something about magic."

Oberyn brushed a lock of Y/N's hair behind their ear. "I don't know about magic, but you have plenty of good looks without a necklace."

The fruit seller blushed and looked away, making the prince laugh. 

-

As the pair entered through the gates of the Water Gardens, the sound of raucous laughter fluttered through the air. The artificial pools and rivers before them were filled with splashing and play. 

"Children. My brother adores the sound. Come, let us go to a more sequestered location." Still holding their hand, Oberyn led through a courtyard. Through another, finally ending in a smaller, more sheltered area with an orange tree in the corner, casting the spot in a warm shade and a minor waterfall feature forming a little brook that trickled through the grass. 

"It's beautiful." Y/N stepped through the grass, smiling at the cool breeze and the shade of the orange tree.

"I have come here many times with many people." Oberyn walked forward with his usual strut, taking off his cloak and setting it on a bench. He wore a bronze-colored tunic underneath.

"This is an honor, my prince. I-" Their statement was cut off by Oberyn's laugh again. 

"Have you ever spoken to a prince?"

Y/N huffed and looked down at the grass. Suddenly, two of Prince Oberyn's fingers tilted their chin to look him in the eye. "I am asking you a question."

The action made Y/N blush. "I'm a bit out of practice." They liked his laugh. It was rich and infectious, filling any room he was in. 

"You will learn again. For now, though, here." With that, he gently sat Y/N down against the tree on the grass. "You are as delicate as a flower. I mustn't be rough with you." Again, he spoke more to himself than Y/N.

"May I ask why you brought me here?"

"You may."

A brief silence followed before Y/N, giggling, said, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Such a lovely laugh. I brought you here because I've spent the past week on the road, traveling through the desert wastes, all hoping to get home and spend the day with a pretty little dove. I am home, have found a pretty little dove, and am perfectly satisfied."

"Are you this flirtatious with everyone you meet?"

"You must know enough about me to know I am - not to suggest you do not deserve every word." He sat down beside Y/N, facing them. "Take your sandals off, you silly dove. How often have you felt grass between your toes?"

Giggling again, Y/N removed their sandals, smiling at the sensation of the cool earth under them. "You're very sweet despite everything your reputation makes you out to be."

"The infamous Red Viper of Dorne, sweet? This is new."

Y/N grinned cheekily, boldly saying, "You're not a viper; you're a milk snake." 

Oberyn's eyes widened in surprise, staring at Y/N. "Would you like to repeat that, little dove?"

Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N stuck out their tongue. "A milk snake!" they said with a laugh, which turned into a yelp when they saw Oberyn move toward them. Y/N jumped to their feet, backing away.

The prince stood as well, smiling. "Oh, no, no, no! You cannot leave now! You have committed a reprehensible wrong against my name! I must have my justice, you know."

"W-wait, just stay away. I didn't mean it!"

"But you said it all the same. I am afraid I cannot have you leaving to tell everyone Prince Oberyn is the Milk Snake of Dorne, now can I?"

"I'm sorry! You're a viper, a vicious red viper!"

"And I'll make sure you remember that!" With those words, the prince lunged toward missing Y/N by a hair as they ran, leaping over the brook, laughing as they looked behind them to see a very evil-looking Oberyn at their heel. Y/N ran from the courtyard into a hallway, dodging down halls and around corners, hoping to lose the prince in the maze. 

They turned a final corner, and ahead, they saw a pretty courtyard with an orange tree and a waterfall feature. Before they could think, they ran right into Oberyn's arms, scooped right off their feet as he carried them bridal-style back to the shade of the tree.

"My little dove returned at last to face their punishment! How noble and brave you must be!" Oberyn kissed Y/N on the brow, setting them on the grass. "If you try to escape again, it will only worsen for you."

Y/N Sand nodded, keeping their mouth shut.

"Good! I would punish you now, but I have chosen a different approach. I will let the gods decide your fate. I demand a trial by combat."

"What! C-combat?!"

Oberyn stood a few paces away, grinning playfully. "To your feet, my dove." Y/N jumped up, and the prince rushed forward, ducking under Y/N's arms and knocking their legs out from under them. Flat on their back, Oberyn straddled their waist. "You are not very good at this."

"Noho, I'm not! Now let me up! You've made your point."

"I have not won yet!" Y/N felt a hand slide inside their robe, gently squeezing a spot just above their hip, and they began squealing. "A squealer! I should have guessed!"

"H-hehehey! Nohohohow wahahhait juhuhust a mihihinute!" 

"I will do no such thing! I must clear my name in the sight of gods and men!" Oberyn's fingers danced expertly, precisely finding every ticklish spot on his poor victim. 

Y/N squirmed and laughed uncontrollably, their protests lost in powerless laughter. "T-tihihihickling! Thihihis ihihis ridihihihihiculous!!!" 

The prince's nimble fingers moved to Y/N's sides, squeezing like a baker kneading bread. "I will tell you what is ridiculous, my dove. Insulting the name of a prince in his palace while being so very ticklish. I cannot imagine what would bring a silly little dove like yourself to such absurdity."

The teasing elicited more squeaky giggles from the poor merchant, who kicked their legs helplessly. Oberyn's hands moved up to Y/N's ribcage, wriggling over each little rib. 

"So many vital organs in here. Maybe if I wriggle my fingers here enough, I can tickle them, too. Do you hear that, little dove? I think your heart wants to be tickled as well! Nobody wants to be left out, right?"

"THihiHIHihis ihIhIHis CruhUhuhUel! StoHoHHop TehehHEheheasing!" 

"Cruel? That is a title I will not deny. Now, I must get a confession out of you, dove! Did you insult my name?" Oberyn smiled with his teeth again, genuinely pleased by the adorable sight before him. "Come on, sweet one, say it." His hands moved up finally to Y/N's neck, scribbling around. 

"OohOHOhohoberyn!! MeheheEHhehercyyhyy!!!" Y/N squealed.

"I'll give you mercy! You must first confess! Did you insult my name, yes or no?" 

"Ihihihi cohohonfehehess toho nohohothing!"

"A bratty little dove you are. Fine then! Feel the bite of the viper!" With that, he curled his pointer and middle fingers to look like snake fangs and drilled them into Y/N's sides, eliciting a defeated shriek from the small merchant. 

"FUHUHUHUCK!! GEHEHET OHOFFA MEHEHEHEHEEE!!!"

"You should be feeling my venom coursing through your veins by now. Rather potent, I'm afraid. Is it making you feel all squirmy and blushy? I think I can see it taking effect!" 

"YOUHUHU'RE SUHUHUHUCH A JEHEHEHERK!!! CUHUHUHUT IHIHIHIT OUHUHUT!!!" Y/N was in hysterics, writhing and cackling.

Surprisingly, Oberyn stopped, leaning back with a smug expression. "Will you confess? Confess, and I'll send you to the Wall! I do not want to kill you, you know!" 

Despite every single brain cell screaming at them not to make things worse for themselves, Y/N giggled and said, "You're such a milk snake, hisssssEEEHEEHEEEEK!!!"

Their cheeky hissing was cut off by more 'viper bites' before Oberyn turned around. "Very well! I, Prince Oberyn Martell, sentence you to death by tickling!" he giggled, keeping Y/N's feet pinned. "I knew I made the right call by telling you to take off those sandals."

"N-noHohohoho! Wait, wait, hold on! Can't we negotiate a pardon?"

"Absolutely not, my dove! Justice is a significant thing to me, you should know. Now, I hope you aren't ticklish here, for your sake."

Unfortunately, Y/N was very ticklish there, which Oberyn quickly learned once he began scribbling around on their soles. The prince's fingers explored every inch of Y/N's feet, marking each spot. However, when he got to the toes, Y/N's laughter turned silent, a sign it was time to stop. 

Oberyn got up, quite pleased with himself, and sat under the orange tree. Y/N regained their breath and looked up at him, a blush and a giddy smile plastered on their face. They crawled up next to him and wrapped an arm around his torso. "Monster," they spat playfully. 

"Careful, dove," he chuckled, wiggling his fingers again, making the merchant bury their face in his chest. "Get some rest. From my experience, trials are entirely exhausting." He yawned to prove his point. 

"Ihihit wasn't your trial!" 

"I've never been on trial. Well, except for that one time." He chuckled, rubbing Y/N's back. "A story for another time. For now, though, rest. I promise you will not find a more peaceful place than this in a thousand summers." 

Oberyn was right. It didn't take long for Y/N's eyes to begin drooping. Little by little, they fell asleep, a smile still on their face, cuddled into the arms of what must be the most charming prince in Westeros in the shade of an orange tree.

[titters-and-tingles]

Hello @fluffyweeby and, happy holidays I believe? I don't celebrate Christmas but I looked it up and apparently it's from December 25th all the way til January 5th! You learn something new every day.

Here's your gift for the @squealing-santa !!

Last Cookie

Fandom- Batman: Wayne Family Adventures

It's a tickle fight between Jason and Dick ^-^!

____________________________________

When Jason gets back from patrol, all he wants is a sweet treat to take the edge off. The cookie jar had been full this morning, so it was reasonable to assume that there would be some for him now.

No such luck. The jar is sitting out on the table, empty. Beside it is Dick.

He's caught dead, a cookie halfway to his mouth.

They make eye contact.

Dick smiles a disarming smile. "Hey Jason."

Jason smiles back, all teeth. "Dick." He steps forward. "That's the last cookie."

"Sure is. First come, first serve."

"Not when you already ate the whole jar by yourself."

A guilty look crosses Dick's face. And then he stuffs the cookie into his mouth.

Jason raises a single eyebrow.

"Whoops?"

And Jason is pushing up his sleeves and advancing on him. "You're gonna regret that." He gives his fingers a little wiggle for emphasis.

"Don't you even think about it." Dick's backing away, arms raised.

A grin finds its way onto Jason's face. "Ohh, you'd better watch it dickwing."

And the chase is on, Dick darting around the corridors, Jason in quick pursuit.

They pass Alfred, dusting the corner of a large bookshelf, who says: "No running in the halls."

They don't falter.

Dick's making a beeline for the batcave, and Jason is picking up pace. He tackles him down the stairs, and they land in an awkward pile in the ground.

Jason's fingers bury themselves in Dick's sides and he shrieks. "Get ahahaoff of mehehe you maniahac!" He kicks his legs, like he's still trying to run away.

"Should've kept your hands off the cookies, Dick." One of Jason's hands has wiggled its way to Dick's belly, and he lets out startled squeak.

"Weehehehell YOU shohuhuhuld learn tohohoho share!" He says between his giggles.

"Share? Share?" One of the hands jumps into Dick's armpit and he let's out a 'nohohoho' of protest. "You finished them, Dick. You must've eaten like twenty cookies."

"IDIHEEHEDN'T," He bangs his fist against the ground in protest. "IhahahadlikeTWO!"

"Sure," And fingers are wiggling against his neck. Dick scrunches it, to no avail. "Two too many."

Dick yelps out a laugh at the sentence, and then at the way both of Jason's hands are back to kneading at his sides. "C'hohohomohohon!"

Dick's hand latches onto Jason's ankle, and he gives it a sharp yank, knocking him over. As soon as he's free, he scribbles his fingers on Jason's calve.

Jason shouts and tries to kick Dick in the face. Dick ducks it, snickering. "That all you got?"

"Gehehet off of me Dihihihick!" And Jason flips himself over, wiggling his fingers against Dick's neck, who's still clinging to Jason's calve.

"Lehehet gohoho!" Dick squeaks, trying to squirm away but also not let go at the same time.

Jason's face scrunches as he fights back laughter. "Y-hehe-you first!"

"What are you two doing?"

They both glance up to see that Tim was in the entrance of the hall, apparently trying to get past them.

"Dihihick ate ahahahall thehehehe cookies!" Jason tries to kick his leg out of Dick's grip.

"Nohoho I didn't!"

Tim looks between them, before swiftly hiding something behind his back, taking a smooth step backwards. "Can't believe he'd do that, well! I have to go, good luck settling this."

Dick and Jason exchange a look. "What's behind your back, Tim?"

Tim looks between the two of them, makes a split second decision, sticking the thing behind his back into his mouth and bolting.

Quickly, Dick and Jason shove each other off to chase after Tim, shouting after him.

As they pass Alfred, who is still dusting, he says: "No running in the hallways."

____________________________________

Hope you like it!

[forsssnaken]

Aziraphale's Literary Discovery

Important note: I am no longer writing stuff like this. It was a nice way for me to be happy while in a rather precarious mental state, but I no longer enjoy it all the same way I once did. I'm keeping it up as it was a gift, and there are still people who may enjoy it, but I am unhappy with my writing how it was in this fic, and I don't enjoy writing this stuff anymore. I still write good omens fanfics now, if you want to give me a chance there.

THIS. IS. A. TICKLING. FIC. COMPLETELY. SFW.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @practickles!!! I am your squealing santa this year :)) I hope this is everything you hoped for and more!! (and now i can follow you without being worried that i'll blow my cover lol)

@squealing-santa

screw canon(/j), they are happy together and have tickles.

switch!aziraphale, switch!crowley.

cw: light mentions of alcohol/sobering up magically, cursing (because it's Crowley), using a miracle to pin someone that could be read as invisible bondage.

Aziraphale turned a page in his book, but wasn't really reading anymore. This had been happening more and more often: he would stop reading just to think about the demon who was currently asleep on his couch.

Aziraphale and Crowley had finished off some good wine last night, and instead of sobering up, Crowley had decided to sleep it off on the bookshop's couch. The angel had sobered up, reading all through the night with the occasional glance to the demon's sleeping form.

Honestly, Aziraphale prefers Crowley awake. He loves the demon's antics and being able to spend time together (although the serenity and calmness radiating off the demon's lanky form was delightful). He didn't technically need to breathe, but he did -- soft deep breaths that were almost soft snores.

Aziraphale quickly snapped himself out of the trance he had been in, staring at his friend(?), and glancing back at the book. It was a sweet romcom, one that left Aziraphale feeling giddy and with butterflies in his stomach. The couple in his book were playful, and in the current scene, were poking each other and giggling. This was a fascinating idea that humans called "tickling", which led to supposedly uncontrollable laughter and seemed like a sweet bonding exercise.

Something clicked in his mind and he looked back at Crowley asleep on the couch, limbs splayed out haphazardly. His tight-fitting shirt had risen a little, leaving a sliver of the pale skin of his lower stomach on display. Aziraphale gasped excitedly, looking back at his book where the tickle fight was happening. Supposedly, even small touches could lead to ticklish sensations!

He stood up, beginning to creep over to the sleeping figure, before realizing that Crowley could sleep through almost anything and walking over normally. The angel stared at him with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between his calm face and the sliver of exposed stomach. He tentatively reached out a finger, poking Crowley's abdomen.

There was a faint reaction, a small breath hitching in between small snores and Crowley squirmed a bit. Was Crowley ticklish?! How silly! How human! What a delightful discovery! He giddily clapped, then began tracing the sliver of exposed skin. Crowley huffed, squirmed, and scrunched up his nose a bit, before rolling over and crossing his arms over his stomach.

Aziraphale was ecstatic at his findings, and couldn't wait to enact something rather devious (by his standards)!

|

|

A few days later, he woke a grumpy Crowley up from his nap (and if Crowley became less grumpy when he noticed that he was covered in a cozy blanket, the angel didn't need to know). Aziraphale had a mission: go on a date -- a Friend Date (he told himself, at least) -- and bring up tickling to him! The angel had an innate need to tickle Crowley now, see his presumably adorable reactions, and have the physical contact that the angel began to crave.

"Come on, Crowley!" Aziraphale grinned, pulling the demon into a seated position by his hand.

Crowley grumbled, "For what?"

Crowley seemed entirely uninterested, but in truth, he loved spending time with Aziraphale and would do anything if Aziraphale truly wanted to spend time with him.

"A picnic!" Aziraphale gestured to a wicker basket stocked full of goodies.

Crowley rolled his eyes (but was truly content with this plan), put his shoes on, and drove them to a gorgeous woodsy park. When they had found their own spot, Aziraphale spread out a blanket on the grass, sat down, and began unpacking some small sandwiches and poured them both a glass of wine.

"Not so much now, my dear boy," He handed Crowley the wine, "I'd like you awake for a little while. It's dreadfully boring being all alone and reading by myself!"

He got nothing but a grunt in return, but everything was perfect, so Aziraphale continued on with his ramblings.

In between bites of his sandwiches, he told Crowley all about the books he had been reading, but especially about the lovely rom-com he had just read.

"They had such a lovely relationship! Human love just excites me so much! They do so many sweet things together, not unlike us!"

"Ngk-" Crowley choked slightly on his wine and turned a bit pink, but Aziraphale didn't seem to notice.

"They certainly touched a lot more than we do, though, Crowley!" The angel pouted.

Crowley shrugged, "We're not having sex."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale's mouth gaped as he gasped, smacking the demon softly on his leg, "Don't say that! They touched plenty without sexual implications!"

Crowley sipped his wine, not needing to respond.

"They cuddled, and kissed, and even- well," Aziraphale cut himself off, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

This now intrigued Crowley, who sat up a bit, and looked at Aziraphale, scooting closer so they were side by side.

He teased Aziraphale, "Oh? Was it sexual then? You realized I was right and you were wrong?"

Aziraphale huffed indignantly, "No! I'm just not sure if you even know what it is!"

Oh, Crowley was so up for a challenge. "I'm sure I would! I know much more about humans than you do."

Aziraphale leaned closer, grinning and placing a hand on the blanket behind Crowley, so they were almost touching. "Oh really?"

Crowley smirked and nodded, taking his sunglasses off and stowing them safely in the picnic basket, so he could look at Aziraphale in the eyes to show him how serious he was.

"Yes, they were tickling each other!" Aziraphale grinned, hoping that Crowley wouldn't know about tickling, so he could teach him.

"Oh, that? How would I not know about that?" Crowley didn't let anything slip, so Aziraphale thought it might be possible that he just didn't know.

"Yes, I think that's quite intimate," Aziraphale reached out and placed a hand on Crowley's knee, "it seems sweet to me!"

Crowley grumbled, avoiding eye contact awkwardly. "What, is this your way of asking me to tickle you?"

Aziraphale stammered, protesting quickly, "Why would I want that?!"

Now it was Crowley's turn to look offended, "There's nothing wrong with wanting that!"

Aziraphale was now slightly grumpy; this wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Crowley had that devilish (albeit attractive) grin across his face, placing a hand on Aziraphale's side.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to goHO-" Aziraphale smacked a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Crowley, that evil, evil demon, had squeezed Aziraphale's side! What a terrible thing for his corperal form to feel! Aziraphale, in all his planning, could not have anticipated this!

A small smirk crept across Crowley's face as he put the other hand on Aziraphale's clothed side and squeezed a few times in a row.

Aziraphale's hands flew down from his mouth to his sides, weakly pushing at Crowley's hands as he laughed heartily. His smile was beautiful. It was, well, angelic.

Crowley was right. Aziraphale thought this was quite nice. He hadn't laughed this hard in a while, and seeing Crowley's enjoyment of his reactions was amazing!

Crowley smiled widely, skittering his nimble fingers along Aziraphale's gorgeous plush stomach, before refocusing his attention on Aziraphale's thighs. Aziraphale's magnificently scrumptious thighs, currently busy with Aziraphale's frantically kicking feet. Crowley stopped, giving Aziraphale a small break, before placing his hands on those delightful thighs.

Aziraphale was not worried in the slightest; he had never heard of someone's thighs being ticklish, just the usual suspects like the upper body, feet, neck, and hips. But thighs? That seemed silly... until Crowley started squeezing them.

Aziraphale barked out a laugh, falling gently on his back as he was unable to hold himself sitting up. He made noises that were so embarrassing: he even squealed! Crowley was unwavering in his ticklish squeezing, grinning broadly. Aziraphale was laughing harder than he ever had, his head shaking back and forth as he laughed frantically, beginning to push at Crowley's hands again. This was Crowley's cue to slow down, and he moved his hands back up to the angel's stomach to gently trace shapes as Aziraphale recovered.

"Y- you're evil!" Aziraphale gasped, still giggling.

"I'm a demon, that's kind of the whole point," Crowley deadpanned, although unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Aziraphale caught his breath, then grabbed Crowley's hands. Crowley's eyes widened slightly, but he tried to play it off, scoffing.

Aziraphale sat up quickly, pushing Crowley onto his back and pinning him there with shocking strength. Crowley looked at him confused and began squirming awkwardly. Aziraphale had fully sat on his hips, pinning his arms above his head as he leaned over the demon, their faces quite close together.

"What? How did you-" Crowley stammered, baffled by Aziraphale's strength, "What are you doing?"

Aziraphale grinned, excited to give Crowley all the exposition of his plan. "When I was reading that book, I tried tickling you, when you were asleep. I poked you, and you reacted! I have to try it again!"

Crowley blushed a bit, before retorting, "Angel, anyone would react to being poked. I'm not ticklish, I'm a demon. Being ticklish is all- cute and innocent. I'm neither of those things."

"I beg to differ," Aziraphale grinned, slipping his warm hand under Crowley's tight shirt, beginning to trace circles on Crowley's stomach.

Crowley's brain short circuted. Not only was the angel on top of him, but he was touching Crowley more intimately than they'd ever touched. And Crowley did feel something -- was that being ticklish?

Crowley squirmed, averting his eyes from Aziraphale's as he clamped his mouth shut.

Aziraphale, ever so oblivious, was slightly upset that it didn't really effect Crowley like it did when he was asleep. Maybe he was controlling his reactions? Maybe he truly was right and wasn't ticklish!

Aziraphale huffed, "You really reacted the other day, I promise!"

Crowley was trying his best to not react, his serpentine eyes flicking towards Aziraphale's well-manicured hand, still tracing under his shirt.

"Ngk- just give it a rest, angel!" Crowley sputtered, feeling giggles (Yes, giggles! Demons aren't supposed to giggle!) bubbling up in his chest.

Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit hopeless; he thought it would have been incredibly endearing if Crowley was ticklish. The demon barely smiled (not counting his mischievous smirks), and Aziraphale would love to hear him laugh, truly laugh, for the first time in years. Aziraphale pouted and decided to give it one last go.

He poked Crowley in the side.

Crowley gasped, jumped, and made awkward eye contact with the angel on top of him.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was ecstatic! A giddy smile broke across his face.

"No, angel, no. I was just startled-" Crowley said quickly, squirming.

"Oh my dear Crowley, my dear silly demon..." Aziraphale grinned.

"No angel I-" Crowley couldn't focus on being called Aziraphale's, due to the imminent danger of him being tickled.

Much to his dismay, Aziraphale began ruthlessly skittering his fingers over Crowley's stomach and sides. Damn his fashionable outfits! The shirt he was wearing was incredibly thin and did nothing to protect him from the angel's attack.

Crowley tried to keep his mouth shut and hide his reactions, but his attempts were futile. He burst out into loud laughter and squirmed as much as he could (which wasn't much). It made sense why tickling was used as a torture method in the past; he would have given up any secret that Aziraphale could ask for in this moment! Although, there was something nice about it: the intimacy, the giddy feeling, and Aziraphale's touch gave him a rush of happiness.

"Why are you laughing, my dear boy? Thought of something devious? Scheming?" Aziraphale laughed along with Crowley -- for such a supposedly evil being, he sure had a contagious laugh -- and scribbled his fingers even faster. "Or are you just... ticklish?"

And if Crowley's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, he hoped Aziraphale didn't notice.

"You're- teasing- me!" He sputtered indignantly, through bright, happy laughter.

Aziraphale paused, pretending to look offended, "No I'm not! I'm simply asking questions to figure out why you're laughing so much!"

In the midst of talking, he wasn't paying attention to what his hands were doing. His hands moved down to the hem of Crowley's shirt, causing the demon to jump, eyes wide.

Aziraphale's eyebrow raised quickly, "Oh?"

Crowley shook his head, stammering "No," and tugging on his hands.

As both of them knew, although the angel's corporeal form was strong, Crowley could easily have gotten his arms free by non-human means. Maybe he just didn't want to.

The most devilish grin to ever cross an angels face suddenly appeared on Aziraphale's. He let go of Crowley's arms, but not before preforming a miracle that kept his arms trapped in place, taut above his head.

Crowley's snake-like eyes grew wider as he tugged frantically on his arms, beginning to giggle nervously. His whole 'bad boy' persona was completely gone now, and he was quite enjoying this (though he'd never admit such a silly thing).

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale teased, wiggling his fingers at the squirming demon, "are you prepared for your demise?"

That shut Crowley up.

Until Aziraphale did something truly evil. Something so evil that even the higher-ups in Hell couldn't dream of. He repeatedly squeezed Crowley's hips.

Crowley made the most embarrassing noise possible -- he squealed.

"AAAAZiraphale!!!" He laughed, wiggling as much as possible, "YOU BASSSSTARD!!"

Curse that stupid hissing. Usually he was able to disguise it, whenever Aziraphale caught him off guard with accidental(?) flirting or made a silly joke that a big bad demon like himself shouldn't laugh at. Speaking of laughing, Crowley was laughing more than he ever had in his life.

And it felt amazing. Having his angel so close to him in such an intimate way, literally on top of him. He was able to let his guard down.

The angel gasped, "What did you just call me, my dear boy?!"

Aziraphale skittered his fingers around Crowley's stomach and sides, relishing in the rare and genuine laughter.

Luckily, although neither of them could be sure if it was intentional or not, Aziraphale's miracle that pinned Crowley's hand was slowly faltering. Crowley didn't realize (he was laughing too hard to think about much) until his arms subconsciously snapped down to grab at Aziraphale's hands.

Aziraphale paused his attack, concerned about his friend(?). Crowley looked at him, as his leftover giggles became slightly more devious.

Crowley latched his clawed hands onto Aziraphale's clothed sides and rapidly squeezed, disrupting the power that Aziraphale had held over him, and toppling them both over onto their sides, facing each other.

Aziraphale tickled Crowley back, angelic giggles pouring out of his mouth.

"You- you're such a demon!" He exclaimed through loud laughter.

Crowley nodded, squirming closer to Aziraphale as they tickled each other.

They were practically cuddling as their fingers slowed to tracing each other's abdomens, softly giggling.

Aziraphale stared into Crowley's gorgeous auburn eyes and was struck with a sense of overwhelming love.

Crowley's smile was wider than it should have been from leftover giggles as he watched the angel and his smile and gorgeous face. As if God Herself had heard his thoughts, sunlight struck the angel's face in a certain way where he looked like he was glowing (although he may have been radiating an otherworldly glow from overwhelming happiness).

They stayed there for a while, in each others arms, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

If you made it this far, thank you. Reblogs help writers and artists on tumblr a lot, so consider reblogging if you enjoyed <3. If you'd like, send me an ask if you want to talk about anything (related or unrelated to this fic), as it motivates me to write more.

[sunstone-smiles]

The Crying Game, With a Twist

Author’s note: Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays everyone! And happy holidays to @cutesmokes! I’m your Secret Squealing Santa! 🎁 It was a pleasure writing this fic for you and writing for the characters of Elemental for the first time! Naturally, I rewatched the movie for research purposes, so I hope did them justice! I hope you enjoy!

Once again, a big thank you to @hypahticklish / @squealing-santa for hosting the event! Now on to the fic!

Series: Elemental

Characters: Wade and Ember

Word count: 2,700

Provided prompt: [Elemental: Ember and Wade (More of tactics but yeah -) kisses/ raspberries/cheer up/games]

Summary: After a slight baking incident involving an attempt at making fire food, Wade becomes disappointed that he didn’t make kol-nuts properly, despite his efforts. However, Ember finds a way to cheer him up with a round of the crying game that has a few different rules than how he remembers it. 

_ _ _

A surprising wave of heat engulfs Ember as she walks through the apartment door. Smokey air, yet with a pleasant aroma like the burning logs of a fireplace, fuels her senses. She closes the door behind her and moves further into the apartment, following with her eyes an airborne trail of smoke coming from the kitchen. A familiar figure stands behind the counter.

Ember places her bag on a nearby table, her gaze fixated on the kitchen. “Wade?”

“Ember!” Wade jumps and juggles a tray between his hands to keep it from falling. He regains control of the tray and slides it on the burners of the stove. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

“You seem to be busy,” she says cheerfully. She then catches a glimpse of a second tray on the counter. Charred spheres, stacked in the shape of a small pyramid, are on the tray. On closer inspection, many of the balls are lopsided, but Ember recognizes the look of the rounded snacks anywhere.

Ember points to the tray. “Are you making kol-nuts?” a smile grows as she asks.

“Yep! Or…trying to anyway,” Wade replies with a bashful shrug. He positions himself in front of the stove, where a pile of logs awaits him. “That last batch came out a little toasty,” he says over his shoulder, “but don’t worry! This next one should be perfect.” 

Wade picks up a pair of metal tongs. He grabs both ends of a log with the tool, dips the log into the open flame of the stove’s burner, then begins the attempt of crushing the log into a rounded shape with the cooking utensil. 

Usually, kol-nuts are made with the bare hands of those that can control their own flames. However, for a water person like Wade who’s missing those elemental expertise, he needs assistance from tools that can help him handle the flames and the compression process of the logs, hence the use of the tongs. 

“I think I’ve got the technique down,” Wade mentions. Everything moves smoothly as he starts to crush the log between the grip of the tongs, but the closer he compresses the log towards the desired shape, the more difficult it becomes. His momentum begins to stall. He squeezes the handle of the utensil as far as it’ll move together, even adding his second hand to gain more force. Despite his efforts, the kol-nut does not compress into a perfect ball.

Wade nervously laughs over his shoulder and releases the lopsided kol-nut on the nearby tray. He grabs another log with the tongs, dips it into the fire, and tries again. He clearly struggles.

Ember tries to peek over at his work, “Wade-”

“All good here!” Wade reveals a second nervous laugh and misshapes another kol-nut. He places it on the tray then picks up the pace with the other logs, partially in a panic. He squeezes each of the logs one by one, distorting their shape and placing them on the tray like a well-oiled machine with a malfunction in its production.

“Wade-” 

“Everything’s fine! Totally fine!” He drops the last kol-nut on the tray, picks up the sheet, then spins around to show Ember the finished product. 

“See!” he breathes heavily, “Kol-nuts!” his face shows a false smile. His facade of an expression falters the more he looks at the charred piles of failure in front of him. The corners of his mouth finally drop in defeat. 

“Burnt…hard…and completely the wrong shape,” he slides the tray on the counter and his head droops. He shuffles his way to the sink to throw the tongs in with a metal clang. As he does this, Wade’s mouth quivers and he starts to cry. Ember quickly goes around the kitchen counter.

“Oh, Wade. Don’t cry,” she grabs his hands. She reaches up and tilts his face towards her, showing him a soft smile to say that it’s going to be alright. 

Wade sniffles. He wipes away tears with the back of his hand. “I know, I’m sorry.” Another stream of tears replaces the ones he had wiped away. “It’s just that, I wanted this to be special.” 

Ember reassures him, “Wade, you even making the effort to bake them is special.”

“But I wanted the kol-nuts to be perfect,” Wade stares at her with tear-filled eyes before another stream of his sorrows runs across both of his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ember takes his arm and leads him to the couch. She gently plops him down on the (fireproof) cushions and sits next to him. “Take it from me, making kol-nuts for the first time is hard, not to mention how difficult it can be to control the consistency of the flame. Sure, they might be a little lopsided, but they didn’t come out so bad.” She pauses to smile. “Plus, I don’t mind them well-done with a bit of extra char.”

Wade lets out a chuckle at that. 

“See,” Ember wipes another tear from his eye. She wraps her hands around his neck to soothingly rub across the back of it. “So there’s nothing to be upset about.” 

Wade chuckles again.

“What?” Ember giggles too, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Wade says with a third chuckle and squishes his neck to his shoulders. He gently grabs one of Ember’s wrists that was rubbing the back of his neck. “Your fingers are tickling me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Ember releases a soft laugh of her own. She pulls back her hands, but notices that Wade’s face still has a hint of a crestfallen expression. A mischievous idea pops into Ember’s thoughts.

“Hey, I know what will cheer you right up,” Ember switches the subject. “How about a round of the crying game?” 

“Really?” Wade tilts his head at her. “But I was just crying a minute ago,” he gestures to the kitchen as if to provide context to his statement. “Any mention of my attempted kol-nuts and you would easily win.” His back slumps forward.

“Ah, but I’m talking about a different version of the crying game.”

Wade straightens up a bit. “A different version?”

“Yep. Instead of trying to make someone cry tears that are sad, the other player’s goal is to make their opponent cry tears of joy.”

Wade laughs. “Where did you come up with this?”

“Just now,” Ember replies with a grin. “So what do you say? Want to play?”

Wade perks up a little more. He shows Ember a soft smile. “Okay.” His eyes scan around the room in search of something. “But don’t we still need a timer?”

“Nope!” Ember leaps for him and tackles him into the cushions.

“E-Ember!?” Wade exclaims. “This isn’t part of the ga-ahahame!” Wade’s sentence suddenly overflows with giggles when Ember starts tickling the upper half of his torso, where his ribs would be if he had them. 

“It is now,” she says with a smug look. 

“Ohoho, I see how you’re trying to win!” Wade squirms backwards to reach the arm of the couch. “Well, game ohohon!”

Ember grins. With the game in full swing, Ember darts her hands to his sides, causing Wade to bark out a laugh. He quickly slaps both of his hands over his mouth, letting out a snort. Through the clear water of his hands, Ember watches as the corners of Wade’s mouth twitch upwards the longer he attempts to contain his laughter, nearly boiling over with giggles like a tea kettle. 

“Trying to hold in your laughter, huh?” Ember smirks from above him. “Not on my watch!” She dives her hands into Wade’s underarms, resulting in him clamping his arms down with another jolt of laughter.

“Ehehehember!” He successfully eases his laughter down to a giggle, purposely controlling himself from exploding into tears of joy. 

“Yes Wade? Is there a problem?” Ember says with a smirk laced in her words.

“P-Prohohoblem? Nohohope! No problem at ahahall!” Wade snickers through his sentence. He kicks himself back further on the arm of the couch and tries to curl himself up. Any attempt to keep himself from bursting into a tsunami of laughter. He can feel the drop of a single joyful tear start to form.

“Really? Because it looks to me like you’re about to lose the crying game,” Ember teases, seeing that she’s reaching closer to victory. The playful, yet competitive spirit burns up inside her.

Wade tries his best to feign an unfazed demeanor. “Noho way! I’m nowhere close to cryi–ING!” Wade leaps like a large wave crashing into the ocean when Ember scribbles at the center of his belly. The dam containing Wade’s laughter finally crumbles and a flood of the joyous sound pours from Wade.

“Gotcha now, Wade!” Ember exclaims, clawing at his tummy with one hand while the other lies on his chest to pin him down. “Caught you by surprise didn’t I?”

“Surprihihihise is an understatement! Hahahaha!” Wade wiggles. He takes some lighthearted shoves at Ember and her hands.

“Well, I don’t see those happy tears yet! So time for a second surprise!” In less than a second, Ember takes a deep breath and presses her lips to Wade’s stomach to give him a big, tickly raspberry.

The squeal that comes from Wade is nearly high enough to shatter glass. The combination of heated air from Ember’s fire sends an extra tickly reaction across Wade’s entire stomach of water, like the bubbles of carbonation surging across his entire torso.

“Ehehehehember!!!” Wade screeches with laughter, kicking his legs in front of her. His expression lights up with a smile even wider than before, one that nearly takes up his entire face. Tears of mirth finally spill across his face like two waterfalls. Ember smiles with success, and for good measure, provides him with a few more raspberries across his tummy.

“Nohohohot ag-AIN!” Wade arcs his back and pushes at Ember’s head.

“Again?” Ember teases. “If you insist!” she says and delivers another raspberry on his stomach, making Wade squeal.

“I GIHIHIHIVE! Yohohohou win!” Wade squirms from side to side to protect his tummy, until he rolls right off the couch. 

Ember perches herself on the cushions, looking down at her partner with a giggle. “You good, Wade?”

The man of water flips himself over like a seashell being turned over in the sand. Giggles still trickle from his system, even as he sits himself up.

“That was evil,” Wade jokes as he wipes a leftover tear of joy from his eye.

“Sorry Wade, but I had to cheer you up somehow and those are the rules of the game,” she shrugs with a smile. Ember turns to lift herself off the couch, “You also got me fired up with the competition–Whoa!” Ember falls back to the couch from Wade wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

“Hold on a second,” Wade says as he pulls Ember tighter into his arms. “You had your turn at the crying game,” his voice rings with innocent mischief. “Now it’s my turn.”

Ember gasps. She tries to pull herself out of his hug, only to realize that her arms are pinned to her sides. She nervously giggles, “Uh sorry! But that version of the crying game only has one round so–Eeek!” 

Ember cuts herself off with a squeak when Wade plants tickly kisses to the back of her neck. An abundance of giggles and squeaks from Ember follow as Wade continues providing her neck with kisses.

“Wahahade!” Ember giggles and squirms in his hug. She lets out another high squeak when Wade blows a raspberry into the side of her neck, returning the favor. Ember tries to twist her head and squeeze her neck to her shoulders as squeaky laughter pours from her like melted glass. With another effective raspberry to her neck, Ember attempts to pull herself from his grasp. 

“Not so fast, Ember!” Wade tightens his hug, now changing tactics and using his hands wrapped around her to scribble at her sides. 

Ember unleashes a squeal and tugs herself forward to escape. Wade loosens his hold and the forward momentum causes Ember to plop face first into the cushions. With her arms free, Ember quickly tries to launch herself over the side of the couch, but Wade catches her by her sides and squeezes her torso. 

Ember releases another adorable squeal and sinks her head into the cushions to hide her face. Wade chuckles, skittering his fingers up and down Ember’s sides. “Aww, that squeak was so cute.”

Ember lifts up her head to throw her voice behind her. “Quiet yohohohou! It was nohohot cute!” she attempts to deny it. Feeling fingers nearing her underarms, Ember curls herself up into a ball and rolls over onto her back, now facing Wade. She grabs at Wade’s hands and flails her limbs while a bright smile lights up her already illuminated face of fire. Her eyes are squeezed shut and an eruption of laughter flows from her like lava. An amber-colored tear forms at the corner of her eye, like dew about to drip from a flower.

Wade notices the liquid gem below her eye. “Aha! A tear of joy! I win!” Wade pulls away in victory, allowing Ember the chance to relax. She lies flat on the cushions with a hand on her middle, taking heavy breaths like a train burning coal to keep pushing up a steep mountain. But instead of stream releasing from an engine, residual giggles release from Ember with each exhale. 

Wade lends her a gentle hand to help her sit up. “Are you alright?”

“Hehe, yeah,” Ember wipes away the tear of fire from her eye. “Looks like we’re both winners of the crying game this time.”

Wade giggles. His eyes catch sight of his baked snacks still sitting on the counter. “At least one thing ended in a win today,” he mentions. “What are we going to do with the kol-nuts? Throw them out? Ah, but that would be such a waste.”

Ember places a hand to her chin, thinking. An idea clicks, and she speaks up before Wade can start crying sad tears again. “I’ve got an idea. Watch this.” 

Ember lifts herself up to go to the kitchen. She grabs two mugs from the cabinet, milk from the fridge, and a box of chocolate powder from the pantry. With the same effortless speed she uses to make her glass art, Ember pours some milk into the mugs, heats them up quick by grabbing the bottom of the cup with her fiery hands to skip using the stove, drops a spoonful of cocoa powder into each, stirs, then places two of Wade’s homemade kol-nuts into both.

“Ta-da,” Ember grabs the mugs and heads to the couch to hand one to Wade. “Kol-nut hot chocolate. Try it.”

Ember passes a mug to him. Cautiously, Wade takes it. He looks at the liquid, then takes a sip. He smacks his lips together. “Hey, this is really good.”

“And it was made with your kol-nuts.” Ember soaks the kol-nut in her own drink like a cookie dunked in milk. She plucks the treat from her mug and takes a bite, now that the rock-hard form has become softer, then finishes her mouthful. “The flavor isn’t bad! Not as good as mine of course, but not bad!”

Wade bounces with an airy laugh. “Thanks Ember.”

“What are you thanking me for?” she takes a seat next to him. “You made them. So, thank you for making them.”

“No, not about that. About you cheering me up.”

“Oh,” Ember smiles as she hears his words. “Of course Wade. You’re welcome.”

Wade takes another sip of his hot chocolate. “Things are better when we work together, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ember nods. “Meaning next time, I’ll help you with making kol-nuts to get the batch just right.”

Wade chuckles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He returns a softened expression and holds out his glass towards her. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Ember repeats and clinks her glass to his. She leans forward to give him a kiss. For the rest of the night, the two sit and enjoy their hot chocolate—made specially with the combined elements of each other's assistance.