#this is mod ' s room btw. the only empty corner is near the door.

[putting-stranger-in-places]

just woke up

put him in the corner of someone's room(sorry for anyone who now has to deal with a sleep paralysis demon)

STRANGER I FUCKING TOLD YOU ITS EITHER YOU PAY RENT OR I ' M TAKING YOU TO COURT

[ddaddsprompts]

Before your ask box closes i FINALLY thought of a prompt: the dads with a ticklish s/o :D (btw your writing is amazing!)

I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to get to your prompt! Hopefully, now that we are four people instead of just me, things will go faster and you won’t have to wait as long! - Mod Mare

🥃 “Want another round?” At the sound of Robert’svoice you turn your head towards him. It’s strange how a few months can changea man so much, but Robert proves it’s possible. He got professional help,picked up a hobby other than drinking and cryptid hunting and actually startedtaking a shower every other day instead of once a week. His drinking gotbetter, too, decreased to a normal and acceptable level. He still can drink youunder the table though. The empty glass in front of you was only your third drink,however, so you slide it over to where he’s standing in front of thetable. He dips his head and disappears for a moment, returning with two filledglasses. You scoot to the side to let him slide into the booth again.Automatically, he throws his arm across your shoulders, pulling you close untilyour sides are pressed together. Like always whenever he touches you, youblush. Though he told you he wants to take things slow and wait until he’sready, you two still behave like a couple in public, only with less kissing andhand-holding. “Thanks, Bobert,” you say raising your glass in a toast. He rollshis eyes. “I told you not to call me that,” he grunts and drops his arm again. Indoing so, his fingers brush over your nape, right where the fine hair thickens followingyour spine up your skull. You can’t help the shudder that goes down your back andlean away from the touch. Robert frowns, then his expression turns downrightevil. “Oh, someone’s ticklish, huh?” You glare at him and move to the edge ofthe booth. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture which is destroyed byhis smirk. “Scout’s honour. I won’t tickle you… for now.”

🍸”Help!” You try to wrench Christie offof you, but Christian holds down your arm with surprising strength for a seven-year-oldchild. To be fair, you’re holding back, not wanting to accidentally hurt them,but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to control your body. “Help!”Joseph finally puts down his book and takes in the scene in front of him with agrin. When Christian asked you whether you’re ticklish, you should have knownthe twins had a plan. You wonder if telling the truth would have saved you, butfigure the outcome would have been the same, no matter what you said. Christiemanages to pull your shirt free and slips her hands under the fabric. A verymanly yelp escapes your lips as she begins tickling your sides. Now that theycan reach your skin, the torture is even worse, your end is near. Your vision isblurred because of the tears and you’re laughing so hard you can’t beg for helpany longer, but Joseph wouldn’t have saved you anyway. With a chuckle, yourboyfriend sits down on the ground next to you. “Looks like the valiant knighthas been slain by the Spider Prince and Princess! Surrender and your miseryshall end!” You try to squirm out of Christie’s reach, but Christian moves over,effectively trapping you. Gasping for breath, you look at Chris, but he’s too busyplaying on his Gameboy. Faced with inevitable defeat, you still put on yourmost determined expression. “Never, Spider King!” Joseph leans over you andgrins. “Then suffer!” At the feeling of his fingers expertly squishing your sides,you scream. It’s a wonder none of the neighbours call the police.

☕ The beeping of Mat’s phone alarm slowly wrests you from the realm ofdreams and thrusts you back into the waking world. You groan and pull thenearest object over your head, which probably is a pillow, not that you care. Nextto you, Mat chuckles and moves, the bed shifting along with him. His weightleaves the mattress and you hear him walk, the creak of the door telling you he’sgone to the bathroom. One of the major disadvantages of dating a barista: Healways gets up far too early. It’s probably only four or five am, far, far too early for any human being to beawake, and yet you enjoy cuddling with him far too much to sleep in your ownbed. The pillow on your head is suddenly pulled off, exposing you to the light.You groan and cover your face with your hands but Mat’s having none of it,gently prying them off again. Once your eyes adjust to the brightness, you seehim leaning over you, dreads hanging down. One lock brushes over your neck,making you squirm away, giggling. Mat raises an eyebrow. “Are you ticklish?”You vehemently shake your head. Mat copies the movement, but a lot slower – it causeshis dreadlocks to glide over your skin. A shudder runs down your spine. You tryto escape, but Mat’s weight on top of you keeps you trapped in place. Mat chucklesand does it again. “You are.” You can’tspeak, trying to catch your breath between giggles, but you manage a nod. Youkeep your chin pressed to your chest and pull your shoulders up as far as theygo so he can’t tickle you anymore. “Are you going to stay like this forevernow?” You grunt. Mat kisses your forehead and climbs off the bed again. “Seeyou later, turtle.”

🌹 Damien is intelligent, charming and a gentleman through and through. That’swhere the problem lies. Because as much as you love it when he wraps an armaround your waist or puts a hand on the small of your back, it’s also maddeningas hell. So far, you managed to not give away what you consider your greatestweakness, but only barely. Lucien, you’re sure, already knows what’s up; he keepson shooting you unamused looks whenever you have to bite your tongue so you don’tstart giggling when Damien does it again. It’s only a matter of time untilDamien finds out. You assumed it would be during sex or another activity withequal amounts of touching. You did not takeDamien’s interest in yoga into account. That’s a battle you cannot win. Seeinghim go from one painful-looking pose into the next with ease reminds you ofyour aching, ageing bones. You barelymanage to do the ‘low lunge’ without your back screaming in protest and Damienmakes it look so easy. “Here, let mehelp you.” Damien steps behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder. The otherslides down your spine, applying the faintest of pressure. You manage to hold in,until Damien’s hand settles at the curve where your spine meets your ass. Yousplutter, then laugh and, in your attempt to squirm out of reach, you fallforward on your face. “Oh my! Are you okay, Y/N? I didn’t mean to push so hard—“He tries to help you up again, but that just makes you laugh harder. Damien liesdown next to you and chuckles. “You’re ticklish?”“I’m neither going to confirm nor deny that.” He reaches forward and brusheshis finger over your side. With a yelp you scoot backwards and glare.

🎣 Right after Amanda, the invention of chocolateburgers and Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers, cuddling with Brianis the best thing in the world. You love putting your head on his chest andwrapping your arms around his torso; you love giving him belly rubs, making himlaugh so much it vibrates through his whole body. It’s even better when youboth are tired from a long day at work and flop down on the couch right afterdinner. You’re not always ‘on top’, so to speak. Sometimes, like it is rightnow, Brian’s head lies comfortably on your chest as you hold him close to you.You move your hands to his hips, starting to draw silly patterns into his skinwith your thumb. Brian giggles against your shirt and squirms away from yourtouch. You pause. “You can’t be serious. You’re ticklish?” It’s like Christmasand Thanksgiving in one. Brian pouts. “Am not.” You wiggle your fingers againsthis waist, drawing a snort from Brian as he tries not to laugh. “Are too.”“I bet you are ticklish. Maybe here?”He pokes your side; you raise your eyebrow. He tries under your arms, but youdon’t even twitch. “I think you’re trying to deflect from yourself, dear.”Brian smirks and scoots upwards. “I’m going to find your weakness, Y/N, mark my—“He blinks in surprise at your sudden, startled laugh and leans back. You coveryour mouth with your hand and duck your head, but not fast enough. Realisationdawns in his face. Brian grins and dives back in, rubbing his beard all overyour neck. “N-no!” You whine. You try to escape but he’s stronger and pins youdown, mercilessly assaulting your neck until you’re a laughing, sobbing mess.

👟 It rarely happens, but sometimes, you and Craigend up arguing. Most often, it’s about silly things, like what you should havefor dinner or who was supposed to do the laundry but didn’t. You never gotloud, there was no throwing dishes involved because Craig had a master’s degreein communication, but there always was reconciliation sex afterwards. That’s theonly thing stopping you from storming out of the room right now because you’vebeen at it for an hour and stillhaven’t made any progress. Well, not the only thing, but the most convincing. “Craig,their bodies won’t decay just because they had ice cream once.” It feels likeyou’re stuck in a continuous loop; you must have said that sentence 300 timesby now. “Once? Bro, you take them out to ice cream after every major gamewhich, to you, is basically every game!”“It’s ice cream! They’re kids! Let them live a little! It’s only frozen milk,how bad can that be? No, I don’t want to hear the recipe again. I heard it fivetimes already.” Craig furrows his brows. You can tell he’s going through yourconversation so far, counting each time to prove you wrong. His shouldersdeflate as he counts to five. With silence descending on you like a heavy quillblanket, Craig unexpectedly reaches out and pokes your side. You flinch away. “Bro,what—“ He does it again. Your back hits the wall, trapping you in a corner.Craig wiggles his fingers. “You can’t just end the argument by tick— NO!” Craigwraps an arm around your waist; his free hand mercilessly tickles you in allyour sensitive spots. You gasp for air and try to free yourself, limbs flailinghelplessly. Somehow, you manage to kick Craig in the knee, sending you bothtoppling to the floor. Your eyes meet his and then you’re both breaking intolaughter.

📖 “Now, in theory, were this a match I would throw you right over my head.”From where you are slung across Hugo’s shoulder, all you can do is hum. Youdefinitely do not want him to throw you down, but you don’t think he’s goingto. That would definitely put a hamper on later activities. After your first physicalbrush with wrestling which led to Hugo and you making out, him suggesting to showyou more moves became a pick-up line which never fails to work. With how close andpersonal you always got, it’s a downright miracle he never noticed how ticklishyou are. Maybe he’s just never touched you in the right spots before or if hedid, you were already breathless so it didn’t matter much why you gasped forair to begin with. “Careful now, I’m going to let you down again.” Slowly, Hugoshifts his hands from your knee-pits upwards while bringing you back into anupwards position. When his hands brush over your lower back, where your shirthad ridden up due to the athletics you’ve been doing, a startled laugh escapesyour mouth. Hugo pauses; you can’t see his expression but you imagine himfrowning. He brushes over your back again. Again, you laugh. “Well, well, well.I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Without any obvious effort whatsoever, Hugolies you down on the bed. You do notlike the smirk on his face. “I’m not?” Hugo raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I am. Alittle.” His other eyebrow joins the conversation. “Fine, a lot.” Hugo folds hisglasses and puts them aside. “You know, I’m a fan of show, don’t tell.” Youonly get what he means when his hands are suddenly all over you. You try toscramble away but there’s no escaping JDSlamminger.