#ticklish!Hunter

[keypaws]

it’s cannon. ticklish hunter in the credits of thanks to them 🥰

[weirdbeancurd]

New Batch, Who Dis-TBB (Star Wars) Tickle Fic

@softer-sunny thought u might like this since you liked the last one I wrote lol

Not my best writing, self indulgence is one helluva drug. Sfw, of course

Summary: Rex visits Echo to check on how he's settling in. He learns something new about their Sargent, and their antics convince him that he picked the right squad for Echo.

The batch is killing time on the marauder, each member entertaining themselves in their own way. Echo and Tech are tinkering on the broken ship compartment of the week, Wrecker is bench pressing gonky, Hunter is lazily flipping his knife, and Crosshair is…well. Taking a nap, to no one's surprise. A shift in the air makes their leader stop twirling his weapon, sniffing for the cause.

“Rex? Is that you?”

Said man rounds the corner, popping his head through the entrance of the ship. He gives Hunter a skeptical look.

"Yeah, I had some time to drop by my favorite trooper.” Echo waves from his spot near Tech.“But how the hell did you know it was me?”

"Smelled you.” he shrugs.

“Oh, haha. I just took a sonic, you know.”

“No, no, not like that-”

“Hunter can detect minute differences in an individual’s scent. It's how he identified you without visual confirmation,” Tech supplies, not glancing away from his handiwork.

“Thank you Tech. There's no way I would've been able to explain my own mutation without you.”

“You're welcome, Hunter.”

Rex narrows his eyes, not annoyed, just stumped.

“Huh. Alright.”

The captain makes his way inside, taking a seat across from Echo and clapping him on the shoulder.

“How’re you doing, vod? Tired of this squad yet?”

“I got tired of them after the first day,” He whines. “Take me back, Rex. I don't think I can handle much more of this.”

“Glad to see everything's going well.”

“He loves us, he just won't admit it because he's a grump.” Wrecker goads.

“That is not true. There's nothing to love about the way you guys leave your crap everywhere,” Echo gestures to the clutter crowding the ship.

“Mhm. Suuuure.”

Echo’s face dons a dashing shade of pink, a detail that Crosshair delights in.

“You're looking a little flushed there, reg. Embarrassed?”

“N-no!” He turns away, trying and failing to hide his barely-there grin. Rex smiles back, knowing his brother is a nervous giggler. “I’m not embarrassed, you guys are just assholes.”

A scoff makes everyone turn to Hunter, who's rolling his eyes so hard that they might fall out of his head.

“Oh, please. Not embarrassed my ass. I can hear your heart pounding.”

Rex stares, dumbfounded. He can…hear his heart?

“Jesus. Are all of your senses crazy strong? If you don't mind me asking, that is.” Hunter brushes him off, not caring in the slightest.

“What about taste? Touch?”

“Yes.”

“...To which question?”

“All three."

“Yeah, he's a sensitive one, alright.” Crosshair butts in, now thoroughly woken from his nap.

“Shut up, Cross. Touch helps me track footsteps.”

“It also helps you be the most ticklish man in the galaxy.”

“Crosshair!” Hunter squawks, chucking a pillow at the sniper’s head. He dodges it, of course.

“Oh, really? Is this true, Echo?”

Hunter doesn't like where this is going, especially because he knows the captain has been ticked off at him lately. It probably has something to do with the pile of neglected flimsiwork on the desk. Echo smiles in a similarly evil manner to Rex. God, it must run in the family.

“You best believe it, sir.”

“Echo, please shut up.”

Rex holds up a hand.

“No, no, let him continue.” He leans in. “I want to hear this.”

“Better yet, why don't we just show you?”

“Don't you da-AH!”

The sergeant is suddenly swooped off of his feet by Wrecker, who’s managed to sneak up on him while he's distracted. He squirms in his hold, a smile already stretching across his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm so screwed.

“Let me go! I order you-”

“Sarge, you should know by now that that ain't gonna work.”

“Yeah, sorry. If there's one thing I learned from joining this squad, it's that the batch doesn't do orders. Even from you.”

“Especially from you,” Crosshair says. “Especially after you used all the hot water this morning.”

Hunter shrinks in on himself.

“Hold on. We can talk about this. Maybe there can be a compromISE-”

A yelp cuts off his negotiating, dipping his head to force out the finger wiggling under his chin. Rex raises a brow. Impressive, how a single poke can send the Sergeant of a squad with a hundred percent success rate crumbling to pieces. He fights against the single-armed hold.

“Gohoddammit, Wreck.” And he giggles, too. This day just keeps getting better and better.

“I never imagined your fearless leader would be so ticklish. If the enemy found out, you’d be toast.”

The fearless leader tries hiding his face in his own hair, messy from shaking his head back and forth.

“Oh, positively.” Tech says, walking over. “One would only need to do this, and he’d start spouting off republic secrets.” On this, he starts squeezing his thighs. Hunter absolutely shrieks.

“NAHAHAHA! S-SOHOHMEWHERE EHELSE! PLEHEHEHEAHAHA-” He throws his head back from the force of his cackling, hair no longer obscuring his mirth. Oh my god, I’m going to die.

Thankfully, Tech quickly grants him mercy, switching to poking his ribs. He's still laughing, but at least it doesn't look like he's about to pass out.

“You lasted a total of eleven seconds. I’d congratulate you, but most interrogations are much longer than that.”

Rex has had a smile plastered on his face for a while, unable to hold a straight face while Hunter is losing his mind. However, he doesn't want this to get out of hand. Having heightened senses sounds like it can get overwhelming.

“How’re you hanging in there, trooper?” Tech’s fingers still. “You ready to call it quits?”

Everyone turns to Hunter, his squad giving him a knowing look. He swears the Sargent's blush turns a shade darker.

“Uh, well.”

He's not looking any of them in the eye.

“I…think I still got some fight left in me.”

It takes all his willpower not to whine when their faces grow smug. Echo breaks the silence first.

“Well, you asked for this.”

He plunges his wiggling fingers onto Hunter’s stomach, prompting a squeak and a kick. Rex can't help but laugh along.

“How cute. He likes being tickled.”

“Ihi dohohon’t! I don't!”

Tech pops in, always eager to correct misinformation.

“On the contrary. Hunter enjoys the bonding activity as a way to rid himself of excess energy at the end of a long day.”

“Yeah. Kind of like how you gotta tire out a massiff before it can go to bed.”

“Indeed, Wrecker. I believe that is an adequate metaphor.”

“I ahaham NOT a dog!”

“Actually, they are reptiles.”

Hunter manages to groan in annoyance while cackling.

“Well, if you aren't a dog, why can I do this?” Crosshair says, before blowing a puff of air at his ears. He yelps at the feeling the shoots up his spine, shaking his head vigorously. “Seems like dog behavior to me.”

“Ihi swehehar! I'm gohonna bite yoU- Crohoss! NohohO!”

“You’re not helping your case here.”

Eventually, the batch decides he's had enough, Wrecker setting him down on a bunk. He clutches his middle, still giggling, hair in his face. Echo hands him a glass of water, or would have, if Hunter was coherent. He sets it on the nightstand instead.

“Yohou all. Suck. So muhuch.”

“Uh huh. Now scoot over, shithead.”

Crosshair shoves his way onto the bunk, draping himself how he sees fit. Tech joins him in a more orderly fashion.

“Ooo! Are we having a vod pile? Count me in!”

Wrecker bounds toward them, the others frantically shaking their heads.

“Waitwaitwait, Wrecker-”

“Stay the hell away from me-”

“I-I don't believe that is a wise decision-”

Echo just shakes his head, sharing a fond look with Rex.

“Kids.”

“You’re one to talk, Echo.”

“No idea what you're talking about. Anyways, I think it's time we turn in for the night. Gotta put the kids to bed.”

“Yeah? Like that time you fell asleep standing up and I had to carry you, bridal style, to the med-”

“OkayitwasnicetalkingtoyouRexbye!”

Rex chuckles, and lets himself be pushed out the door. He starts heading back to his own barracks, unsurprised to hear bickering the second he turns. There's no doubt Echo'll fit in just fine. He sighs.

Kids.

[koala-fluff]

Tickletober Day 6: Chase

Fandom: The Owl House

-Enjoy!

---------------------------

"Get back here!" Luz shouted, running down the hall in pursuit of her not-brother.

"No!" Hunter kept running from the human, his ears and face pink as cotton candy. "I'm not letting you catch me!"

"You tickled me first!"

"That's unrelated!"

"No it's not!"

Hunter dodged around the corner, his golden guard training kicking in. He slid and rolled to make the turn quicker and bolted away.

Luz didn't have such training, so she slammed into the wall. She filled the void with pure vengeance and bounced off it to sprint after her target.

Vee was sipping apple juice in the kitchen when the whirlwind of insanity blasted in. She choked as Hunter dragged her chair back and put it between him and Luz.

"What's going on?" Vee asked, watching in befuddlement as the two circled around her.

"I require vengeance!" Luz stated, smirking at the witch across from her.

"No, you don't!" Hunter retorted, smiling nervously.

Vee blinked, chugged her juice, and sighed. "I'm gonna go join the others outside, and you two better not destroy the house." She said, side-eyeing them as she dropped her cup in the sink and left the house.

The duo blinked at the door, frozen in place. Luz turned towards Hunter and poked his ribs. He yelped and leapt over the counter, sprinting out the door they had just come through.

"Get back here!" Luz shouted, continuing the chase.

Hunter slid around the corner, deciding to hug the wall at the last second. He panted heavily and waited. As her footsteps grew louder, he grinned.

If she was so intent on catching him, he'd just have to get her first.

Luz rounded the corner and shrieked in surprise as Hunter dug his hands into her sides. He quickly brought her to the ground where he focused his attacks onto her stomach.

"HUHUNTEHER!" She thrashed, trying in vain to pry his hands away from her skin. "NOHOHO FAHAHAIR!"

"All's fair in war, human!" He said triumphantly, pinching the skin under her navel.

She squealed and thrashed harder, her muscles growing weak. There was no way she'd lose to him twice!

With the last of her strength, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down next to her. He gasped, caught off balance, and hit the ground.

Knowing she only had a few seconds to strike, Luz grabbed his hand and blew a raspberry right onto his palm.

The poor boy shrieked and tried to flail away. Luz crawled forward and dug her fingers into his ribs before he could recover from her vicious attack.

"NAHAHO!" He cried, snapping his arms to his sides in a desperate attempt to halt her assault. She merely chuckled and squeezed one hand out to poke at his neck.

Squeaky giggles flew out of his mouth, his neck scrunching. That proved to be fruitless, as Luz simply switched her attack to the other side of her neck, making sure to flutter her nails across his ears for added torment.

He snorted at the feeling and rolled over, forcing her to remove her hand from his ribs. He tried to crawl away, face red as apple blood.

"Oho, no you don't!" Luz grabbed his hips, dragging him back while simultaneously squeezing that weak spot. "You should've ran while you had the chance!"

"IHIHI TRIHIED, DIHIDN'T IHI?" He retorted, curling up into a ball. "STAHAP!"

"Never!"

With tears in his eyes, he blindly grabbed at her. He was rewarded with a snort as his hand landed on her knee. She giggled as he continued to curl his fingers on the sensitive skin.

"Yohou cahan't wihin!" She huffed, moving her hands up his sides.

"IHI WILL!" He cackled, flipping around suddenly and digging his fingers back into her stomach. Luz screamed and leaned forward, retaliating by shooting her hands under his arms.

Vee came back inside to gather some snacks for the friends outside. She rolled her eyes as she heard her not-siblings cackling in the hallway. She sighed and muttered to herself, exiting the house again with a bag of pretzels.

"I might need to get Willow to go break that up…"

----------------

Food for you, @witt3brosz

[quietbirdee]

sorry about the reblog spam i’ve just been SOOO silly over toh lately and your art is SO good adjadjhadhjahdja :3

Aww you don't have to apologize!! I love reblog spams sdlfkj so THANK YOU!!! I'm happy you like my art ;u;

(here's a Hunter since it's been a bit since I've drawn him)

[lopsicle]

••The Only Time I Ever See Him••

AN: Surprise @fictitious-fluff , I’m getting a bit of deja vu here!! Apologies, I had to sub in since your original Squealing Santa had to drop out, so I’m sorry this is later than normal! The prompts you left behind were super cute and I hope you enjoy this fic!!

Characters: Lee! Hunter, Ler! Willow.

Summary: After hallucinating in the Noceda family bathroom, Hunter ends up in a bit of a panicking tiff. Luckily, Willow is there to help him.

Warnings: SFW tickle fic, hallucinations, hurt/comfort.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He was there. Hunter had seen him, saw them actually, two people. Awoken by some branches scraping at the walls of the Noceda residence, Hunter was already on edge as he creaked his way upstairs to investigate the low, scratching noise. Every step he took felt like he was about to trod on a rattlesnake, the house felt like one big bear trap like this, alone and isolated in the cover of night. It reminded him of how he used to sneak out of the castle with Flapjack; he found it difficult to get out of the mindset that one wrong step, incorrect turn or loud noise would result in the loss of his best friend. Hunter took in a deep breath as he scoured through the house, occasionally lingering in the doorway of his friend’s bedrooms just to make sure they were okay. He considered checking on Miss Camila too, but something about bothering her rubbed him the wrong way, nerves clamming up as he reached towards her door handle.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t bother her. Though, his nerves were still jittery, like there was some monster under her skin waiting to burst out at any second. Water. He needed some water. Flicking on the light to the bathroom, Hunter immediately made his way over the sink, spinning the faucet until a geyser of cool water began spilling out. He wetted his hands before leaning down and splashing them against his face. Then, Hunter barely opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, as if to check that he was was still here. And that’s when he saw him. Them, in fact, two of them.

Belos came first, not the horrific monster that resembled something of a Lovecraft book, but the kind, gentle uncle he had once knew. The one with an injured streak of green magic scarring his face, and silver hair that had been aged with wisdom and a necessity to survive. Hunter barely recalled Belos talking about his injury, the one supposedly caused by wild magic, though Hunter had no way of deciphering truth and deceit from his mouth anymore.

“We are kin, Hunter, our scars are a permanent reminder of our failures. They’ll remind us to keep pushing forward, but also that we will always be united.”

What was once a comforting speech about how Hunter could always rely on his uncle now just served to remind him that his blood was running through his veins. If that even was how Grimwalkers worked, who knew what other vile things Belos had to do to make his body. The memory flashed through his mind like an icicle had crashed through his spine, just the thought of how willingly and stupidly he helped his uncle in the past was enough to send him stumbling away from Belos’ cold, sadistic gaze. His hand struck upwards to his face as his fingers involuntarily traced the scar on his chin, the fingerprint of Belos.

The next face was his own, the mask that had been sewn onto him since birth. A man who he never knew existed until just a month or so ago, yet had dictated his entire life. Caleb. He seemed tired, exhausted and if Hunter squinted, he could’ve sworn that Caleb looked disappointed in him. How could he not be? The last of the Grimwalkers, all of those people, all of those murdered and it all lead up to just him. Sure, Belos was dead but it wasn’t like Hunter believed that, that monster would find a way to cling to life for even a few more seconds no matter the depraved cost. He hadn’t won or defeated Belos, he was trapped in another world, although the human world somehow felt comfortable. Maybe he just didn’t have anything for him back in the Isles, except for Darius, or maybe it was the Caleb in him talking, happy to finally be back home.

Hunter yelped pathetically, barely finding his voice as he tucked his head to the side, staring away from the mirror. Clutching the sides of his hair while his torso shook and jittered slightly, Hunter took in deep breaths as well as he could, trying to copy it how Luz taught him. They were far from perfect but they calmed him down just enough to barely able to just barely open one of his eyes and look back in the mirror.

It was just him, a few feet away from the mirror from jumping back, hunched over with his hands on the sides of his head. Hunter grimaced, really missing that masked confidence right about now. He blinked a few times, making sure that it was really him and not Caleb. Satisfied that he was no longer seeing things, Hunter slowly rose back to his normal stature and got ready to le-

“Hunter?” A soft voice called from the doorway, though it felt like a shock to his heart. Hunter jumped back once more, startled like a deer, and turned to face where the voice had came from. There stood Willow, who was just rubbing her eyes groggily but had flinched back at Hunter’s reaction, a little stunned herself. A few moments passed in silence as Hunter felt like his tongue was stolen, not exactly sure what to say. Eventually though, Willow stepped into the room, a look of confused sympathy in her eyes.

“What are you doing up still? Are you alright?” She asked, her voice was quiet, not just to ensure that she wouldn’t wake the others.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Hunter decided, avoiding that last question. Willow didn’t seem to mind but she could feel more conceal bubble in her gut.

“I saw that my bedroom door was left open, and then I heard someone scream in here,” she explained, each of her words clear and slow. Hunter nodded in a grimace recollection.

“Oh, right, that was me-both of those things were..” he then turned his face away, finding the floor more interesting. Willow stepped forward with a soft smile, lightly leaning against the wall.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she then slid down the wall and repositioned herself to have her back pressed up against it, with her legs crossed. She patted the spot next to her and after a moment of thinking, Hunter steadily sat beside her, hugging her legs to his chest. He remained silent though, chin resting atop his knees as he stared idly forward, though Willow kept her attention on him.

“Did something happen?” She asked, easily slipping into the role of being a comforter. Hunter only managed a small hum of agreement to that question.

“Wanna talk about it?” Willow then followed up with, a light question, one which Hunter could easily back out of or lean into though. He choose the former though, just shaking his head. Willow felt her face soften, a strong sense of empathy running through her as she could only imagine what was going on with Hunter. Luckily, she knew a full proof fix to any emotional problem!

“Want a hug?” She offered, opening her arms just a little as she scooted a little to face him. It took a Hunter a moment of consideration, fear filling him like bile until he delicately allows himself to be taken into Willow’s arms. His arms found themselves clinging to the back of her neck, while hers secured his lower back. Hunter’s body was mostly draped over Willow’s warm legs, her whole body was warm actually, like a blanket on a winter day. Hunter breathed in, finally remembering what Luz told him, in for four seconds, out for four seconds and repeat. Willow took note of what he was doing and copied him, not wanting him to do it alone.

“Thanks, captain,” Hunter mumbled quietly once he was finally level headed again. Willow’s smile appeared a little brighter as Hunter looked up to stare at her. She began rubbing circles onto his back, and Hunter immediately returned the smile.

“Don’t thank me yet, you know, there is a price to these hugs,” Willow grinned, something sly appear in her eyes, the same look she’d house whenever she was scheming with Gus. Hunter’s brow furrowed in confusion, though he enjoyed the more playful tone the conversation was now shifting towards.

“Oh, and what would that be?” He asked, trying his best to play into whatever game Willow was playing right now. Suddenly, her grip on him tightened, practically scooping him closer to her from her hold on his back. Hunter squeaked as he stumbled over, ending up sitting on Willow’s lap, hands still messily clinging to her neck.

“Your laughter!” Willow exclaimed before her fingers greedily shot into Hunter’s sides, scraping about against his torso through the fragile fabric of his shirt. Hunter’s grip onto Willow immediately tightened, it probably wasn’t the best idea to cling onto the person tickling him, but something about it felt natural, like the right thing to do. Eyes widening, small laughter began to crackle out of his mouth, it came out in a disjointed manner, as if this was the first time he had ever laughed.

“Pffha-Wi-Wihihillow!!” He squeaked out, rooting his feet into the floor as his body became more rigid, doing her best not to make a fool of himself by squirming around. Willow grinned, spidering and skittering her nails across the lengths of his tummy, jabbing her nails into the pudgy skin every now and then.

“Aww, that is the cutest laughter I’ve ever heard!” Willow teased him, though she felt a bit of a blush form on her face, she was just glad Hunter didn’t notice as his entire face reddened at the praise, even getting a bit louder because of that.

“Aha-hahaha, I-I dohohohn’t-!!” Hunter couldn’t even got a full sentence out before squealing, his legs bucking as their placement became more wobbly. He fell forward, leaning against Willow with his cheek pressed against her chest. Seizing the opportunity, Willow reached both of her hands over to Hunter’s exposed right side before squeezing them playfully, prompting a few yelps from Hunter as he flailed about against her.

“Careful, Hunter,” Willow spoke in a chastising tone, “you don’t wanna wake up anyone else by being too loud, do you?” Somehow, Hunter’s face felt even more hot as he his heart thumped out of his chest. Taking her advice, he buried his face in her shoulder, trying to stifle all his squeals and laughter. Willow then crawled her fingers down to his hips, lightly tapping and pinching against them, causing Hunter to buck about in her arms.

“Thihihis is-cruhuhuel!” Hunter called out playfully, jerking about from side to side at the touch of Willow’s hands. The poor boy couldn’t even show his scarlet face, all he could really do was keep on laughing away in Willow’s arms. Willow just stared down at him adoringly, watching Hunter just melt away into giggles as he clung onto her. She began pressing her thumbs into his hips with more force, squishing her fingers down against her body, earning a few loud shrieks and cackles into her shoulder.

“Oh come on, you know you love it!” Willow smirked down at him, to which Hunter was only, barely able to meet her gaze, losing the will to speak. His eyes appeared weakly opened, sparkling with joy normally only seen in childhood, as if all of his problems were forced out with his laughter. Hunter could barely keep a hold on Willow, though he wasn’t squirming that much now, half because he didn’t want to get away and half because the poor boy was just too tired for it. As much as Willow adored this side of Hunter, one of the rare, fleeting moments that he wasn’t troubled by a need to survive, she could also recognise just how winded he was getting already. Rasping and gasping for breath, going red in the face, laying against her like a rock ready to sink down in a river, that was all it took for Willow’s fingers to begin lightening their assault, delivering a few more pinches to his sides to keep him all giggly.

Willow held Hunter as he remained in her arms, lightly rocking with each deep inhale he took. When his face returned to a lighter shade, he managed to face Willow, a little unsure of himself. Willow noticed and figured to lead.

“You feeling okay? Want some water?” She offered, to which he shook his head, already feeling more than satisfied.

“No-no, it’s okay-thanks Captain…for all of that,” Hunter added that last bit in an embarrassed mumble, barely able to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Willow just giggled adoringly at his behaviour.

“You wanna go back to bed?” Willow prompted him, but surprisingly, his grip on her didn’t loosen. He shook his head against her shoulder.

“Actually…would you mind if we-stayed like this..for a bit?” Hunter asked, though his tone wasn’t dripping with sadness, Willow had done a thorough job at tickling that out of him. He sounded more…comfortable, a similar feeling as to earning the trust of a stray cat. Willow’s smile remained bright on her first as she kept a tight hold on Hunter, like a teddy.

“Of course we can.”

[xolliwritez]

My first attack against @giggly-toybox !

Illumi was very fun to wreck🐭✨️

@tickleartfight

[nekoma-not-lee]

Tickletober Day 3 - Prank

Hunter x Hunter - ler!Gon, lee!Killua

Killua pranks Gon, chaos ensues!

This pairing is implied romantic, but can be seen as platonic!

Killua was currently fleeing for his life from Gon. All because he just had to prank him! They were on either side of the couch, locked in position. If Killua moved one way, Gon would just intercept him. Killua nervously smiled, “C-C’mon Gon, it was just a prank, can’t we talk about this?” Gon looked back at him with a mischievous smile, all soaking wet from the earlier prank, “Sure we can talk, but after I get revenge.” Gon suddenly launched himself over the couch, tackling Killua to the floor.

They wrestled for a bit before Gon ended up on top…but by underhanded means is what Killua would say. Gon had used a hand to tickle under his arm which caused him to lose. “Are you sorry yet?” Killua shook his head and stuck his tongue out. Killua suddenly burst into laughter when Gon had used his hands to attack Killua’s sides. “Nohoho! Gohohon, thahahat’s nohohot fahahair!” Gon snickered, “You deserve this for dumping that bucket of cold water on my head!”

“IHIHIT WAHAS OHOHONLY HAHALF AHA BUHUHUCKEHET!” Killua shrieked out, as Gon switched to his hips, which were significantly worse than his sides. “GOHOHON THAHAHAT’S SOHOHO MEHEHEAN!” Gon’s fingers pinched lightly at Killua’s hips, “Well dumping that bucket of cold water on my head was pretty mean too, I think this is being nicer than that!” Killua shook his head from side to side, “IHIHIT’S NOHOHOHOT! IHIHIT’S SOHOHO MUHUCH WOHOHORSE!”

Gon chuckled, “Do you regret your actions yet?” He said this while slowing his fingers down to tracing. Killua simply breathed for a few seconds and then shook his head, defiantly, “It’s gonna take a lot more thahahan THAHAHAT WAHAHAIT NOHOHOHO!” Killua shrieked as his hips were the target once more. Gon shook his head, “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” Killua’s shrieks of laughter were loud and boisterous, but also incredibly cute and endearing.

Killua finally tapped Gon’s hand with his hand, “OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHIHI GIHIHIVE! IHIHIHI’M SOHOHORRY!” Gon stopped instantly, seeing as Killua had reached his limit. Killua breathed, “But…” Gon tilted his head in confusion. “…I stihill regret nothing,” Killua finished, breathy giggles still escaping. Gon laughed, “Your luhucky I’m feeling nihice today! Or else you’d be back at my mercy for that.”

[weirdbeancurd]

Predator and Prey- A Bad Batch Tickle Fic

Isolde is my OC who's a huntress with claws and shortblades. She likes to annoy Hunter and gets along well with Omega.

@neppy-34, I used to like your bad batch headcanons and thought u might like, hope this tag doesn't bother you lol

Hunter raced around the ship with the desperation of a dying man. Chases like these happened often with the batch, but getting caught this time had worse consequences. He wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with Isolde at the moment, and knew she’d use this as ammunition against him. And so, he weaved around the halls until he got to his bunk. Hunter would’ve shut the door, hoping his pursuer would eventually get bored and leave, but he was tackled to his bunk the second he passed the door frame. He groaned from the weight of Wrecker on his back. 

Wrecker snickered, having finally caught his prey. He called over the rest of the batch to watch him dish out Hunter’s punishment. Hunter just put his head in his hands, not even bothering to pry himself out from under his brother (believe him, he’s tried). He heard the sounds of boots on durasteel as his brothers flocked to his room. Head still in hands, he could practically feel the smirk that Echo was wearing. He heard tech adjust his goggles in amusement. A quiet tip-tap of smaller feet came pattering in. That must’ve been Omega. She’d seen him like this several times, but it never failed to embarrass him. Their almighty leader, about to be “tortured” within an inch of his life. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here, Wrecker?” Echo said.

“Oh, you know,” Replied Wrecker. “Just the usual- a very ticklish sergeant.” 

Hunter felt his cheeks heat up.

“Actually, you know who’d love this? Isolde! C’mere!”

Shit. Said huntress arrived a few seconds later.

“Yeah? What’s… What in the world is happening right now?” A very confused Isolde asked.

Omega clung at her side, clutching at the fabric at the hem of her shirt.

“Hunter here, was hogging the shower, and I decided he needs to learn a lesson or two about sharing.”

Now that got Hunter to look up.

“Hey! I was a minute over what I normally take! One minute!”

“Yeah! A minute too long, in my opinion.”

Hunter just groaned again and lowered his face back down to the mattress in defeat. 

“I’m still confused,” Isolde said. Wrecker wiggled his fingers.

“Just watch.”

He brought his hands down to Hunter's sides and squeezed them once. Said man let out a high pitched yelp and a choked chuckle. Isolde grinned maniacally. 

“Oooh. I see. The mighty Hunter is ticklish.” Hunter just shoved his face further into the bedsheets. 

“The mighty Hunter is very ticklish,” Echo chimed in. “Turns out “enhanced senses” also meant touch.” Hunter mumbled something that sounded a bit like “shut up.” Omega just giggled. Wrecker swiped a finger down his ribs, causing the man to recoil violently. 

“Now watch this,” He said. 

Wrecker dug his fingers into Hunter’s sides and wiggled. Unable to contain himself, he burst out in giggles, face finally leaving the mattress and hands flying back to pry Wrecker’s wrists away from his body. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t budge.

“Wahahahit! Don’t!” 

“Don’t what?” Wrecker asked.

“Dohohon’t tihAHAHA!” Hunter broke off into belly laughter as Wrecker slid his hands up to his armpits. He couldn’t help kicking his feet, causing Isolde to chuckle at his demise. Wrecker took notice.

“Isolde, do you wanna have a go at him?”

Without even letting her answer, he flipped Hunter over, holding his arms above his head. He let out a quiet “oof” when his head hit Wrecker’s lap. His eyes widened.

“Wait! Nononono, get away from me!” Hunter tried to use his feet to scramble away, but he couldn’t find purchase on the bed sheets. “As your commanding officer, I command you to back off!” Isolde just smirked. Hunter swore his blood ran cold.

“Oh, but you forget something, sergeant,” she purred. Even under the threat of death, he’d deny blushing wildly. “I am no soldier.” And with that, she spidered his ribs with devastating claws.

Hunter wouldn’t have been able to hold back his laughter if he tried. He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, spewing threats every so often. However, the threats of violence had little effect with him giggling his head off. 

“aH! Ihihi’m going to kihihihill you bohohOTH! GAH! DOHON’T!”

She’d found the spot where his top rib met his underarms, scritching with her nails. The man was looking a bit red in the face, so she didn’t keep that up for long. Instead, she switched to skittering her fingers along his neck. His desperate laughter turned into sweet giggles. Her eyes softened at the sound, slightly dazed. That was, until Hunter tried nipping at her hands.

“Hey! None of that.” She formed a claw with her hand and vibrated it into his toned belly. Hunter fell back into deep laughter, shaking his head back and forth to lessen the feeling.

“StahahAHAHAA! NOHOHOHOHO!” He wheezed.

Seeing that he might die any second, Isolde gave him a break, just to be interrupted by a snide chuckle that wasn’t from Hunter. She looked to the doorway, where Crosshair was leaning against the frame, toothpick in mouth. The batch had their mouths hanging wide open; they hadn’t had the best relationship with Crosshair lately, and this rare appearance was unexpected to say the least.

He grinned. “Try the thighs.” And with that, he slunk back into the recesses of the ship.

Isolde turned back to Hunter, who was just catching his breath. The smile she wore was conspiratorial. He could feel his heart drop.

“Well, let’s not let his advice go to waste, shall we?”

She swiped a single claw down the side of his thigh, causing a flinch and a jolt of ticklish energy to course through his body.

“That bad, huh?” She grinned. Hunter refused to meet her eyes. “The silent treatment, hm? That’s alright. I know a way to make you talk.” Isolde squeezed up and down his thighs. Hunter screamed.

“NOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Okay, “talk” was a strong word. Hunter could barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. He kicked his legs, thrashed back and forth; whatever it took to get that tortuous feeling to stop. Everyone chuckled at his reactions. It was nice to see their oh-so-stoic sergeant smiling for once. Though, he was a bit red in the face.

Thankfully, Isolde noticed he needed a break and stilled her fingers. Wrecker released him from his hold and patted him on the shoulder. Hunter just laid on the bed with an arm strung across his face, taking greedy gulps of air. A dazed smile still sat on his face.

“I…I hate all of you.”

“...”

“Not you, Omega.”

[duckymcdoorknob]

𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓭����𝔂 5: 𝓘’𝓶 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱

THIS IS LITERALLY THE ONLY GIF I COULD FIND REMOTELY CLOSE

SOS BITCH THEY DONT LIKE US

anyways- holy fuck this is 4 days late. I’m gonna try to keep pumping em out.

This one is pure comfort for lil bby bc sometimes I just get a think and cannot veer off course of that think.

Pushing my found family headcanon on y’all once again. Yawn.

—CW: There are not much tickles under the cut ngl, established Leopika, Angst :(—

Tags: @giggly-squiggily @chrimsss

At the end of the day, Killua knew that he was loved by Leorio the same as Gon was. But sometimes… No- that’s stupid, he’s not- He’s not jealous or anything.

…Is he?

No, that’s silly. He’s never been one to care about affection, given his background and all.

And yet… why did he feel so pouty after seeing the two interacts?

Of course, he never let it show. He wouldn’t anyone to catch on or anyth-

“You alright, kiddo?” Kurapika inquired, squatting down to the younger’s level.

“I- what?” The boy blinked. “O-oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

The blonde grinned patiently. “Killua…”

“I said I’m good!” Killua crossed his arms with a slight pout, turning away from his friend.

Kurapika sighed as he stood upright once again. “Alright, don’t tell me then. If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

The white-haired boy slowly turned back around toward the older male. “W-Wait.”

A smile crept into Kurapika’s features. “Hmm?”

“Promise you won’t… you know, tell?”

“I promise I won’t… you know, tell.”

And so the young boy began to spill his woes and worries with great hesitation, fearing that Kurapika would spill the beans to Leorio.

The Kurta would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t worried. It took all of his power to not reach out and squeeze the boy in the tightest hug he’s ever given. The blonde listened to every word with great focus, heart breaking at every line. Had he really felt so neglected by Leorio?

When Killua had finished pouring his heart out, his face flushed as he looked away. A squeak left him as Kurapika gently pulled him into a hug.

“Would it be okay if I spoke with Leorio?” The Kurta whispered in inquiry.

“N-No it’s not important…”

“Killua, please. Just let me-“

“I said no!” The white-haired boy roared as he turn and ran to his room, slamming his door shut. Kurapika closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Two hands gently graced the blonde’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing gently. The chain user sighed.

“I’ll talk to him,” Leorio’s voice whispered, giving a small squeeze. He was met by his lover’s head falling backwards into his chest.

The blonde sighed once again, muttering. “Just be kind to him… it took a miracle to get him to open up.”

“Alright. Go check on Gon; I’ll take care of this.”

The two carefully stepped through the dark hallway , eventually turning in separate directions at the split. Leorio gently tapped on Killua’s door, a muffled “go away” came in response.

“Killua…” the brunette rested his forehead against the wooden door. “I just want to talk with you.”

“Don’t you want to talk to your f-favorite son, G-Gon?”

The medic’s heart broke in two, breath hitching. “Kil-“

A choked gasp left the boy. “I TOLD YOU ALREADY TO NOT CALL ME THAT!”

“God- right, right. I’m sorry. I just-“ Leorio’s mouth stuttered in movement, failing to find the right words. “I w-want to f-fix this. Please, let me in.”

After a good amount of silent seconds, the door opened very slightly to reveal a puffy-eyed Killua with his chest heaving. Leorio dropped to his knees and instantly pulled the boy into his embrace.

Kicking the door shut with his heel, Leorio cradled the little guy’s head against his shoulder, shushing the boy’s blossoming hysterics.

“I’m so sorry that I made you feel this way… I never wanted you to feel anything else but fully loved. When Kurapika and I took you two in, we didn’t-“ a hitch of the older male’s breath indicated a valiant effort to fight tears himself. “I didn’t- I still don’t- I don’t have all of the answers, and I want more than anything to have them.”

He was met with silent, albeit the sound of the ex- assassin’s heaving sobs.

“You know I love you so much, Killua. Taking you in was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and I stand by that statement. I’m so sorry that I made you feel neglected… or-or feel like I don’t like you enough, or that I don’t love you anymore.“

“BUT YOU DID! You d-did! And y-you know how l-l-long it took me t-to trust everyone. I-I wasn’t loved by m-my family a-as a kid, Leorio. Do y-you know how it f-feels to think I lost the o-only person who really loves you?”

“I don’t, I really don’t kiddo. I can’t tell you I relate, or that I understand, because I don’t. But I’m here in this moment, and you are my family now. And I will love you until my dying breath…” the older man wiped his eyes, “Even if you do waste all of the soap in the bathroom.”

The white-haired boy let out a watery chuckle. “You don’t understand the art of potion making.”

Leorio smiled widely, “There’s my happy guy.”

“Happy is a stretch… you got one smile outta me.”

“Oh yeah?” The medic pulled Killua out of the hug and held him by his shoulders, “You want me to get more smiles outta ya’?”

“You could try, not much you can do.” He grinned.

One hand moved from Killua’s shoulder and wiggled its fingers in front of the boy. His eyes widened. “I’m not ticklish.”

“I beg to differ.” The brunette teased.

With a battle cry, Leorio pulled Killua into his lap and attacked his tummy and sides, prodding and squeezing at the boy’s torso.

Killua squeezed his eyes shut to keep his giggles at bay.

“Ohhh, now none of that! If there’s anything we do in this house, it’s laugh!”

A quick pinch to the rib led the boy to yelp and break out into laughter. The medic smiled evilly at him.

“Ohhhh! I thought someone wasn’t ticklish!”

“Ihihihim nahahahat! Thihihihis ihihihis juhuhust- hyeahahaha!”

Leorio looked at Killua with fondness, continuing to help the little guy get his giggles out. From now on, he should tickle the boys every day, he thinks. After all…

Killua is his son now, and he’s never letting go.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[lopsicle]

Writing is hard when your so full of tired sleepy

I got creative with the prompt and I’m not sure if this qualifies as a chase but oh well, I really like this one anyway

Flyer Derby

Tickletober Day 6: Chase

Fandom: The Owl House

Characters: Lee! Hunter, Ler! Emerald Entrails

Summary: Willow makes a bet with Hunter to see if he could beat the rest of his team. Shenanigans and hijinks ensue. (I love those words :3)

Warnings: Tickle Fic, light restraints at the end, not proofread.

——

It was becoming increasingly rare that the Emerald Entrails would have the chance to ever practice or play together, which was surprising. Their teammate, Hunter was literally living in the school now but most of them seemed nervous, like they were in the calm before the storm. The Day of Unity hung over them all, their worries about it only becoming worse as Hunter revealed it’s true nature to the rest of Hexside.

That was exactly why it was so important for them to just let loose even if it was just for a little while. Just one evening where everything would be okay, so they could actually experience the calm they’d been so desperate to receive.

This game would be a little different then all their other causal matches of Flyer Derby however. Willow had made a bet with Hunter, the reason unknown to him, maybe she just wanted to see how good of a player he was or just wanted to see him get tickled silly. The idea was Hunter would play against all four of his teammates, the catch being they were only allowed to touch him by tickling him so it was a little more fair, or unfair depending on how you view it.

Hunter, terribly flustered by the idea since he knew his own sensitivity, still accepted for whatever reason. Maybe he wanted to get tickled by Willow, or maybe he just wanted to show up his team in anyway he could. He was probably just too flustered to reject the idea entirely, barely able to word his agreement to her.

And now here he was, standing on the opposite side of the lengthy, trap filled pitch to all his friends, seeming pretty eager to wreck the poor blonde. Anticipation was threatening to plunge deep into his heart as he readied himself, not able to shake that light nervous feeling that buzzed in his mind. The Grimwalker had a tight grip on his staff, his cardinal Palisman sat motionless at the end. It was a bit reassuring to know at least one of his friends was on his side for this game.

‘Don’t you lot have a plan for this?’ Viney asked, leaning back on Puddles as she stroked the Griffin’s neck. ‘That guy is..well was the Golden Guard, do you really think we can just swoop it and steal a victory from him?’ She fretted, but wasn’t met with much worry.

‘Well, maybe we wouldn’t win against any other Golden Guard, but our one happens to be real ticklish, there’s no way he’ll be able to resist this!’ Willow smiled at Viney, placing a hand on her shoulder casually.

‘Oh, and go for his ribs, that’s a killer spot!’ Gus said loudly, making sure Hunter heard, making his cheeks already to a dark shade of red. He squeaked a little under his breath, already thrown off guard and just anticipated would what happen next. Flyer Derby was nerve wracking enough but mixing it with something as silly as tickling…he was just glad he didn’t have an audience, something he’d been fairly insistent on since he wasn’t fond of being tickled out in the open.

Gus then cast an illusion of himself, to act as a makeshift announcer to the centre of the field as the two teams stepped forward closer to the centre of the pitch.

‘The rules for this one are a little switched up to how we usually do it, folks,’ Gus’ illusion smiled widely, keeping his hands behind his back. ‘Hunter will be trying to steal our teams flags, and if he manages that, he wins the bet! Our team, the better team, can only interact with him by tickling him until he surrenders, which is when Willow will win the bet.’

‘If,’ Hunter said, ‘If Willow wins!’ He smirked, trying to alleviate some of his tension by getting competitive.

‘Good luck with that, blondie!’ Skara shouted from across the field, not wanting the opposing team to get the last word in. Hunter just made a ‘hmp’ sound, readying his staff to his side, while his eyes narrowed on the prizes in front of him. Four flags dangling on his friend’s staffs, all he had to do was grab them quickly and he’d be spared from the merciless tickling he was sure to be forced through in this game. I mean, he could handle that, right?

‘Three,’ Hunter hopped on his staff.

‘Two,’ He watched the other side do the same.

‘One!’ In a split second, all four of his friends had managed to split up in other directions, with Gus summoning a cloud of smoke just to make it even harder for him to keep track on who was who. Hunter gritted his teeth a little, feeling a little better now that the game had actually started, but still had the ever looming threat of tickling hanging over him.

The boy quickly took up in the air, his eyes were first set on Skara who seemed like the easiest to take out. Hunter quickly found himself following behind d the bard student, gaining on her at high speed. The girl squeaked as she realised she was a target, sourly regretting trying to get in the last word now.

Hunter waited until just the right moment, keeping all his focus on the flag in front of him, before blipping through the air with the help of his Palisman, grabbing Skara’s flag before she could even process what happened. Once she did though, she immediately plunged towards Hunter, not to regain her stolen item, no, she decided to be petty and tickle him for the Hell of it.

Skara’s nails scratched down from the back of Hunter’s knees down to his calves, making the poor blonde squeal as he kept his legs as still as possible, not wanting to let go of his staff. He sped up, just causing her nails to trail further down his leg, ending up at the top of his left boot which she managed to pry out, letting it fall to the ground.

Hunter huffed as he managed to get away, looking a little flustered now that he was more exposed but at least he was far away enough from Skara now. All he had to do was find the others and-

‘Gotcha!’ Viney yelled triumphantly, wrapping one arm around Hunter’s waist securely. The boy fell back on his staff a bit, having to lean against Viney’s side for support; a parasitic way of pinning someone.

‘Viney, no fair!’ Hunter whined, still trying to wriggle about in her grip but he was quickly shut up by a couple fingers scribbling against his tummy.

‘Oh hush, Hunter, we both know your loving this, you wouldn’t of agreed otherwise!’ The brunette smirked, snaking her hand around his back to squeeze at his sides, forcing him to crash into her even more.

‘N-nahahahaah, I dihihihhidn’t!!’ Hunter tried to protest but it was hard to take him seriously through all his cackling and the fact that his face was just getting redder and redder. Getting teased really threw Hunter off his game, it was like he couldn’t fit clearly when being tickled.

‘Coochie coochie coo, gigglebug!’

Unluckily for him, Viney caught onto this pretty quickly. The babyish teasing was almost too much for Hunter to bear as he felt his ears start to heaten from all the teasing. He curled his arms to his sides and wriggled about in her grip as much as he could but he just couldn’t get away from her.

‘Eheheheheheheh!’

Gasping, Hunter reached out to his Palisman, Flapjack, and let him return to his normal form, causing his staff to disintegrate right from under him. Hunter swiftly grabbed Viney’s flag as he began free falling, sticking his tongue out at her as Flapjack flew right back down to him, turning back into a staff as Hunter caught him.

‘Ha! I had no idea that would work!’ He smiled, repositioning himself on his staff as he quickly got back into flying around, not wanting Skara or Viney to catch up to him.

Now came the part he was dreading the most. Willow and Gus. Gus’ illusions could cause a real problem for him, he had to be checking just to make sure the flags he had caught so far were real and he was sure the boy was planning something. And Willow…was Willow. The boy had a crush on her for crying out loud, he’d shut down if she even got the chance to tickle him.

Luckily he wouldn’t have to find her, as Willow would find him first.

‘Oh, Hunter! Behind you!’ The girl sang, causing Hunter’s blush to immediately return as he shot around, though he saw Willow just standing there. Standing on her staff.

‘You should be more careful with your illusions, Gus.’ Hunter pointed out casually, immediately darting for ‘Willow’, feeling more confident now that he knew it was just a disguise. But, as he drew near, he failed to realise how well his friend’s mirages has developed as he had not only created an illusion of Willow to throw Hunter off but was concealed just a couple feet to the left of it. And when Hunter drew near, he pounced on him.

The boy jumped from his own staff to Hunter’s, letting his chameleon Palisman nestle up on his shoulders. With a crash landing, he immediately clung onto Hunter, a little scared he would fall.

‘Oh, come on, you totally stole my- mahahahahave!’ Hunter barked with laughter as his friend began squeezing his hips, making him yelp and jump all about. He did consider doing his staff disappearing trick that he used with Viney, but he didn’t want to hurt Gus, probably something the boy planned by jumping onto his staff. The only thing Hunter could really do was sit there and take it.

‘Come on man, just give in, you know you can’t beat me and Willow!’ Gus cooed from behind him, finally beginning to prod at those sensitive ribs of his, making Hunter Damm near shriek and madly thrash about on his staff.

‘EEEK!! WAIHAHAAHT, NAHAHAHA GUHAHAHAHAAHS!!’ Hunter nearly screamed in laughter, barely able to keep a hold of his staff. Gus gripped onto him a little tighter, not wanting either of them to get tipped off. Gus would keep at it, scribbling and scraping at Hunter’s ribs with no mercy and just when the blonde thought things couldn’t get worse, it did.

‘Your really doing a number on him, aren’t you, Gus?’ Willow giggled, flying down next to the sight of the two boys. She casually reached over and took back Hunter’s stolen flags.

‘NAHAHAHA FAIHAHAHAR!!’ Hunter bellowed with laughter, leaning hunched over on his staff to try and get his ribs away from his friend. In return, Willow wriggled her nails against the back of his neck, making him arch right back upwards.

‘Poor boy, I almost forgot you were THIS ticklish,’ Willow chuckled, prodding along one set of his ribs while Gus scratched at the other. Hunter, who had just lost all his progress and was now having his worst spot tagged team by two skilled lers, caved in almost immediately.

‘I SUHAHAHAHRRENDER!!’

With that, Gus hopped back on his own staff while Willow gently helped Hunter back down to the ground, it being a bit hard for the tickled out boy to fly.

‘You know, you handled all that really well! I mean, you managed to best two of our team members and looked good doing it! I’m proud of what you did today, Hunter!’

She smiled at him as the boy blushed more, his smile practically beaming.

‘T-thsnk you, Captain, that, uh, means a lot!’ Hunter cooed as he hopped off his staff, Willow next to him as the rest of the Emerald Entrails stood around them.

Though almost immediately as Hunter stood on the ground, two vines wrapped around his wrists and pulled them behind his back, beneath his shoulder blades. A couple more gently pulled him down onto his knees, all while Willow smirked at his confusion.

‘Don’t tell me you forgot our bet? I’m pretty sure we agreed that if you lost, I get to tickle you for ten minutes!’

Hunter’s whole face went beet red as Willow kneeled down across from him, his eyes wide with anticipation.

‘CAHAHAHPTAIN, NAHAHAHAHAHA!!’

—-

I am so shleepy

[besthimbomachine]

Day two and what not writing has been doing is letting the werewolf idea simmer in the back of my head cause I don't have anything else to write about so good I guess?

Also I've taken a liking to pestering my boyfriend during work calls cause I'm a nuisance (and he doesn't use a camera so I can be a nuisance safely). He finds the meetings boring and useless anyways so I'm actually doing him a favor.

[salemrph]

Sleepy morning with Sylus

A/N: While I was reading some other posts yesterday, I came across a user asking what it would be like to wake up next to Sylus. My imagination jumped on it right away! I would say this is more of a headcanon than a fanfic. I focused more how he would experience it. Short write, just because I'm working on other stuff.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 1,430 | Reading Time: 5 min | AO3

Background music

Your laughter echoes through his bedroom as you try to break free from his grip, his breath tickling your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, pressing himself against your naked body. You smell incredible, so intoxicatingly good that waking up next to you must be heaven on earth.

You squirm and kick, already in tears from laughing so hard. He can't get enough of that sound, of the way you smile, the way you close your eyes and lean your head back. Your presence is like a flowerbed in full bloom, vibrant and breathtaking. Blooming in its full splendor.

Whenever he can, he admires you. When you sleep, he counts the moles on your body, tracing them with his fingertips. He caresses the scars you've earned as a fierce Hunter, kissing every natural fold of your skin. His touch follows the curve of your back, the delicate shape of your ass, down to your legs. The same legs that always wrap around him in the intensity of passion.

He loves you, more than he could ever show to you. It wouldn't be enough, ever.

"Sylus—"  you gasp between laughs, struggling against him as your muscles start to cramp.

"You have so much energy, kitten" you keep laughing, you are so ticklish this morning. His nose brushes against your neck before he nips at your skin, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You squirm even more, still breathless from laughter. "I will pee myself... Stop!"

He hums against your skin, only tightening his hold. He isn't really awake, he wants to keep sleeping, enjoying the peaceful morning with you. Sylus has worked hard to clear his schedule, to be with you like this. To adapt to your routine, make breakfast, and simply enjoy a normal day at your side.

"Then pee..."  he teases. 

"Gross! Let go." You protest, thoroughly disgusted by his suggestion.

"Not even in dreams, sweetie" he chuckles while still kissing your shoulder.

"Sy..." you whine. That tone, the way you try to get your way putting that face, that tone in your voice. The one that makes his heart melt no matter how much he tries to resist. He growls, reluctant to release you completely. His grip tightening for a moment before he finally exhales and relaxes.

"Go. You have 2 minutes to come back". 

You waste no time jumping out of bed, only to earn a slap on your ass.

"Hey!" You spin around, shooting him a glare. Sylus only smirks.

"I like how it wiggles"

You disappear in the bathroom. Sylus shifts onto his back, crossing both arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a rare sense of peace. Yeah… he could get used to this. No, he wants to get used to this. The wealth he possesses and everything he has done has been nothing more than a way to ensure your safety. The years he spent searching for you taught him that he had to be prepared for anything. Losing you again was not in his plans. And if the day ever comes when you no longer love him, it won’t change a thing. He would still protect you, even from the shadows.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you sneaking back into bed. Carefully, you inch closer, suppressing a grin as you reach out to poke his cheek. But before you can even make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a firm grip.

"Feeling playful this morning, my love?"

"Just a bit" you smirk. Sylus laughed.

"What do you want to play?" You tilt your head, pausing deliberately as your eyes drift over his bare chest, trailing down to his toned abs. The sheets rest low on his hips, and the way you’re looking at him doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows that look.

With effortless ease, he shifts, pulling you toward him until you land on top of his body.

His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. The color of your lips is already beautiful, but he loves it even more when they darken after passionate kisses. His lips part slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, mesmerized by the infinite depth of your shining eyes.

You lean in, pressing tender kisses across his face before finally finding his lips. Your entire body relaxes, melting into him. Savoring the slow movement of your mouth. Heat growing in your body. Between you two. The kiss deepens bit by bit, his tongue tracing your lips, later moving beyond, slipping inside, tasting you. You sigh into him, already lost in the spreading feelings of longing.

His hand has already trapped you. One sitting on your back, the other on your ass, keeping you close. He is getting harder by the second. His need for you is growing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips grounding you in the moment. There is no rush, no urgency. You have the complete morning and day to melt in each other.

When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath is warm against your lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he exhales deeply. This is a dream, he thinks. A damn good dream. And he has no intention of waking up.

One hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. He doesn’t need to speak; everything he feels is in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you like you’re something precious. You cover his hand with yours, pressing your cheek into his palm. A faint smile tugs at his lips before he kisses you again.

Sylus takes his time, enjoying how your body reacts to him, the quiet gasps, the way your fingers tangle in his hair. His name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. He watches you with a quiet intensity, taking in the way you melt under his touch. The space between you disappears, lost in the unhurried way he moves. Once more, your worlds merge, your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understand.

That's how you start the morning: with him, with you, with nothing beyond these four walls mattering. Just the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of your hearts, and the love that neither of you needs to put into words.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omega verse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, double-pen, gangbang kinda, tag-team

♡ FEM reader

It’s been a month since your new owner brought you home, and despite expectations, you’ve yet to be eaten by the predators you share your den with. On the contrary, the six hybrids seem to have accepted you as their seventh pack member despite you being at the very bottom of the food chain.

You’ve come to trust that, despite the look of hunger in their eyes… food isn’t exactly what they have in mind. 

The hyena seems to be the only one your age. But he’s also a bit of a bully. Always goading you with ticklish poking until you stomp your feet and whine at him to stop. 

He never listens to you, though – he just cocks his head, finding it funny how you try giving him orders – only grinning as he pins you instead, chewing some on the lops of your ears while squeezing your cottontail – smirking and giggling at your pouty face getting all frustrated.

Your weak kicking is so cute, and so is how you try clawing at him despite having but blunt nails – he can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles him. 

It’s so painstakingly clear you’re not made to fight back, and it’s so adorable how you don’t even realize you already surrendered the moment you rolled over on your back with your belly up. 

It makes him go absolutely feral when you pull on his ears and mane, begging him to stop as he laves at your slit and clit, delving his long tongue deep within your walls until the tip prods your womb. It’s course against your skin and harsh on your insides and scratches your poor clit until it’s all swollen and throbbing for him – making you sob as his feral smile teases your chubby mound with a bite – only satisfied when you cum in his mouth.

But while the hyena enjoys play-fighting with you, the rest are more prone to fight each other…

The panther and leopard are good friends, whilst the fox and wolf seem to tolerate each other – and you don’t know whether it’s unfortunate or a blessing in disguise that both pairs only want you for themselves and often end up fighting over you.

You’d say the four are the most trigger-happy of the pack – always hissing and barking at each other. But everyone knows that cats and dogs don’t get along.

The canines are a little scarier, you think. They’re rougher with you.

The wolf especially. He’s older than you, a big heap of hulking muscles that bear down over you with the daunting superiority of a seasoned hunter. 

He doesn’t take lightly to you talking back to him – acting as though he’s actually offended when you so much as open your mouth if it’s not to swallow his tongue. Even if all you ask is for him to go a little slower, he’ll just growl at you – threatening your neck with fangs while chewing your collar – and otherwise ignore your cry completely. Calling you his bitch while telling you to quit your whimpering even though he’s been breeding you sore for the past hour, ramming your poor cunt so hard your muscles have all given out and left you to lie on the floor with only his paws keeping your hips upright.

He's always extra rough when you reek of cat – as though it’s your fault. Huffing and puffing as he now has to spend so much effort scenting you again.

It’s a never-ending war between them all. You go from camp to camp, getting marked again and again like territory, only for your owner to clean you up at the end of the day.

But the wolf is the worst. One time he’d gone so far as to piss on you… 

But he was later scolded by the owner – bonking his head with a rolled-up newspaper, telling him he had to learn to share or else he’d have to go sleep out in the doghouse. He’d also been told he had to stop breaking skin when biting you unless he wanted to be muzzled.

It only made him all the more grumpier. Growling in your ear that the one who ought to be muzzled is you and your snitch-mouth always crying wolf like some bitch who never learns her place – that next time you go talking to the owner, he’s going to eat you like the piece of meat you are.

You come to learn that he’s more bark than bite after a while. 

When you get used to him and his stamina, you stop crying and start holding onto him instead. And it’s when you’re burying your face in his neck and begging for his seed that he softens up for you.

He stops biting and starts sucking instead – laying hickeys all over your neck and chest, blushing with closed eyes when suckling your tits like a pup. You learn he’s a sucker for being called good boy and will wag his tail when you sit on his face. 

He’s also the one with the most owner-sickness of the pack, always clinging to you, growling when others get close, and never ever sharing when his turn.

He only begrudgingly allows the fox to eat his scraps afterward. 

You can only mew as he mounts you next. 

His tempo is always a bit of a shock – a bit juvenile, but who can blame him when he’s had to wait for so long? He’s a little younger than you – eager and desperate for it every single time.

Pounding you sharply – hard and fast with howls and heavy panting – even whimpering as you hold you tighter and tighter, squeezing you free of air as he savors the feel of your wet pussy clamping down around him.

He doesn’t growl too much when you whine. Instead, he laughs – elated and frenzied – eyes manic as he sticks his tongue as far down your throat as he can – drooling uncontrollably as he sinks his knot inside you and spills his worth inside your womb.

It’s a relief he doesn’t last as long as his bigger partner.

He’ll suck love-bites on the chubs of your cheeks as he unswells – lick all the sweat from your skin and come down by the sweet taste. Laying sloppy kisses all over your body and lapping over all bruises and soreness in gratitude – looking at you somewhat sheepishly with big puppy-dog eyes as though suddenly embarrassed that he’d been so feral.

The felines are less spastic. 

But they also like to lick you – with sand-textured tongues scraping at your fur and skin until they’ve made sure you’re coated with their scent. They seem to enjoy grooming more than anything, always snuggling with you.

But they get flirty, too… you’ll know when they start kneading your softer parts – blinking at you slow and expectantly until you return the favor.

They’re the same age and have known each other all their life, practically brothers, and do everything together as though they were a pair of Siamese – including when they mate with you. 

They’ll lay you down on one lean chest while the other is poised above you. Purring as they take turns with you – both so gently.

The panther always has a sly smile on his face when looking down at you – his claws retracted while he sticks his slender fingers inside your mouth to play with your tongue. He says it’s one of his favorite things about you – so soft and so silky, so different from theirs when you lick his skin.

It makes the leopard pout behind you, nuzzling you tight, his cheek to your cheek, asking the other if he doesn’t like it when he grooms him. 

The panther only smiles down at both of you, promising that he likes both your tongues until he proceeds to swap between which one of you he kisses.

When the leopard kisses you, he also admits he likes your tongue – whispering all depraved things that come to mind – loves how smooth it feels in his mouth and on his lips and neck and nipples and cock and balls.

Eventually, the heat gets to their heads, and their pointy ears start to droop, looking at you with such dark glossy eyes, opium-blown with pleasure and lust for more – kissing each side of your face, asking whether you won’t allow them both inside you at the same time – their pretty pleas making your head go silly, panting while nodding your head for them, bucking your hips stuck between the two while begging for both of them.

You feel their slim tails coil around each of your thighs as they sink inside your drooling heat together – their breaths deep and shuddering while they feel your tightness squeeze around them. 

They coo at you – telling you how perfect you look trapped between them like that – as their pretty little double-stuffed toy. And you’re too cock-drunk to do anything but agree.

After flooding you with cum, they go back to cuddling – sleeping – the both of them purring with lanky limbs all tangled on top of each other and you in the middle.

The bear is also a lazy fellow – a gentle giant. Something you’re grateful for – you don’t think you’d survive if he ever tried mounting and pounding you like the other boys.

He’s the eldest of the pack. Twice your age. You feel the seniority in his movements – all unhurried, savoring every second with a warm smile.

He’s satisfied with having you on his lap – cock-warmed by your tight bunny-cunt while you hand-feed him berries. You feel a little safer with him knowing you have the same appetite and that he isn’t thinking about eating you. 

He hums, a rusty sound that comes from his gut – telling you he likes seeing you eat – that it’s cute how you take such small bites – and the way your nose scrunches and your cheeks fill.

Sometimes he’ll tell you to hop on his lap – his massive warm paws placed on your haunches with large black claws gently denting the plush flesh found there, encouraging you as you ease up and down the great length that bulges from your belly. 

The size of it makes you pant.

You’re glad he’s happy having you at the end of the day – after you’ve been loosened up by the others. You fear he’d split you in two if otherwise.

The owner collects you before bedtime after everyone’s had their share – clips a leash onto your collar, and leads you to the bathroom – crawling on all four like an actual animal. You’ll often collapse halfway there, but he doesn’t mind scooping you up to carry you instead – always with a few patronizing words leaving him while mollycoddling you, almost speaking baby to you, telling you how proud he is of how domesticated you’ve become.

There’s always a bath waiting for you – a gift for being such a good little pet, he says. 

It reminds you of when you were first brought here, as he washes you with his own hands – rubbing the filth of spit, cum, and sweat from your sore limbs, messaging your flesh into nice limber softness again.

He’s always mumbling about human matters under his breath – money, business, estate – ruffling your hair when you give him a blank stare. Apologizing while saying he won’t trouble your pretty head with such complicated topics.

All you have to worry about is being his stress-relief – something clueless and dumb and dependent on him. You realize that without him needing to say it. It’s communicated through all the other things he says anyway.

He’s always whispering in your ear before bed – sweet nothings about what a good bunny you are – how you’re the cutest, softest, sweetest little thing in the entire world – telling you how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re finally settling in – how you’ve become the most precious little housebroken pet for him.

It feels different when he touches you. The other hybrids make you feel small, but there’s a familiarity with them – something about being hunted fairly and squarely, like out in the wild. 

With the owner, you’re reminded you’re a pet eating out of his palm – something tame warming his bed at night with your leash tied to the bed frame.

He doesn’t fuck you with the same intent as the others do – there’s no rut behind his cold movements. It’s not mating or breeding. It’s something else you can’t put your finger on. Something human. Something alien to you.

Something in the way he has his hand fisting your leash as he sinks inside your heat – something in how he babies you, calls you cute when you shake and cum around his cock like you can’t control yourself.

It all makes you feel like some mindless animal.

Impulsive and primitive in comparison to him and his calculated thrusts and how he only cums inside you after you’ve all but begged him to breed you.

♡ part 1

Owner: ♡ BNHA - Aizawa, AFO ♡ JJK - Nanami, Kenjaku ♡ HQ - Ukai Hyena: ♡ BNHA- Shigaraki ♡ JJK- Mahito ♡ HQ - Tendou Wolf: ♡ BNHA - Bakugou, Dabi ♡ JJK- Sukuna, Naoya ♡ HQ - Sakusa Fox: ♡ BNHA - Denki, Kirishima, Deku, Amajiki ♡ JJK- Yuji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ - Hinata, Nishinoya Leopard & Panther: ♡ BNHA - Denki & Shinso, Dabi & Hawks ♡ JJK - Geto & Gojo ♡ HQ - Miya twins, Oikawa & Kageyama, Kuro & Kenma Bear: ♡ BNHA - Enji, Aizawa, All Might, Mirio ♡ JJK- Toji, Nanami, Higuruma ♡ HQ - Daichi, Ushijima

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[queenendless]

ARISE

A/n: As we are now in a new year, time to write on some new fandoms.

Rewatched S1 dubbed — and yes Aleks Le as Sung Jinwoo is the reason why cause he's so damn fine~! Listen to his voice as you read this, I insist! I just need to get my Sung Jinwoo fix. Therefore—

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x F!Adult!Reader

CW: Explicit 21+ MATURE content inside. SOME SPOILERS but not much. Morning smut, implied mentions of suicide, reader got reincarnated as a humanoid magic beast and serves Jinwoo now.

DON'T PLAGARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. Rather reblog like and follow pls n thx.

"Wakey wakey." That teasing low purr in the crook of your neck had you giggling tiredly as the ticklish sensation pulled you out of slumber. Spooning you from behind, his legs entangled with yours, Jinwoo breathes in your scent, sucking tenderly. Taking his enormous hand that rested on your hip into yours, just to play with his fingers, made him smile.

“Don't go.” You murmur, raising that hand to brush petal soft pecks to his knuckles.

"Come on, now. I gotta get ready." His slurred gruffness were telltale signs he was in no hurry.

"The world is your kingdom now, Jinwoo. It'll still be there tomorrow." Your reassurance meant you curled further into your side of the bed, the tendrils of slumber creeping back in. His deep chuckle trailed butterfly pecks from your cheek, down the pane of your neck, then up to your ear. "Stay here with me, please."

"Even the Shadow Monarch needs to lead his guild." His words were one thing. His wandering hands were another story. "But, if you rather keep me in bed all day, I suppose you could persuade me." His very presence chased away the bitter freezing loneliness you were accustomed to, submerging you in his comfortable burning embrace.

"God, you're something else." You turned in his grasp, finally able to face him and shower him with your smooches, such smitteness brought warmth blooming within him. Not to mention his bulge rubbing against your crotch sent sparks shooting through you both.

Flashes of memories surfaced in your mind. Such a whiplash it is that the most powerful hunter in this world that you personally witness slaughtering every beast and human that dares stand in his way, soaked in their blood, could be the very same man that held such requited smoldering endearment for you.

The butterflies and flips occurring inside from every gaze, touch and word given are always worth it.

"God has been long gone from this world ... just Rulers and Monarchs now ... and yours is beside himself. To think his favorite beast on the streets ... is a lamb in the sheets~" That rumbling deep voice roughly heaved in between kisses. Opening your mouth so willingly had him grinning against you as his velvety tongue entangled yours, lost in the thralls of the passionate dance within. “My favorite~”

His sculpted hands slithered underneath your top, lightly brushing up against your sides, then your tummy. One hand stayed to fondle your cushiony mounds; he never gets tired of feeling you up.

"A human from another world ... reborn as a humanoid magic beast." Pinching, pulling and rubbing your pearls between his long sly fingers had you melting as your muffled mewling grew frequent. “Failed by those closest to you, abandoned to that pain and fear … a kindred soul.”

His other sly hand slips under your undies, cupping your dripping sex. Your moaning had him smirking as he nibbled your bottom lip in tune with his thumb insistently rubbing your clit and the tips of his fingers brushing around your cunt. "Isn't this what you wanted? To be touched by me? Your beloved King?"

"Mmm yes~" His voice always got you going, especially when those four fingers filled you up well, curling and scissoring in their trek straight to your burning core. "Aaah~" Your hips rutting into his hand got him bricked up through his sweatpants. "Nngh~" Wringing your hands through those dark messy locks and stroking along his shaved undercut got him trembling, all to reel him in and keep you as grounded as you could currently be in your haze filled state. "Don't stop~"

"So touch starved." Your sharp gasp was the sign he reached your bundle of nerves, prodding it with such vigor, stuffing you right up to his wrist, lathered up in your cream. “To let me be the first and only one to shower you with such devotion ... I'll forever be grateful for that blessing." Tears of ecstasy leave your e/c eyes and he kisses them away, his ebony bangs tickling your moaning burning face, the flames of passion stoked for you as you come undone. "My Queen~"

His creamy hand then pulled right out of your valley, leaving you desperately wanting him to fill up your emptiness. Your faith got restored, however, as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, revealing the chiseled marble sculpture that is his physique.

He knows the sight alone makes your mouth water. Your hands traversed the panes of his soft firm pecs, that thick neck, those broad shoulders, even these sculpted biceps that flexed as his daily tasked push ups came with the added benefit of pushing down to your laying form, being enthralled by your rewarding kisses. Such reliable stability beneath that lean stature of resilience.

Your own eyes burned with the glow of enchantment, the image of who he used to be versus who he has become reminded you of yourself. How the physical and mental scars that plagued your old life for years on end shaped you into who you have become. A magic beast serving the Shadow Monarch. What a pairing.

His cream coated hand slips under his own waistband, pulling his beast free from its confines, using your cum as his lube to be more prepared.

His other hand cupped under your knee, draping your leg over his shoulder. "Wouldn't you rather I give you tongue~?" That low toned growl already got your other leg willingly draped over his other broad shoulder already as that mouth sunk into your wet folds.

“Yes love~!” Ripping such a concupiscent symphony outta your mouth. His other hand couldn't help but jack off to your venereal cries. The scorching presence his mouth gave as the starvation had him ravaging, suckling as much as making out with your now squirting folds.

His cheeks filled with your essence, dexterously aiming his tongue to drive you further up the tower of sins. Your spasming hips only buried his face deeper in, inhaling your scent as his nose got pushed in your pubes, his light yet sturdy weight. Those lidded silver eyes flashed violet as their predatory gaze marveled in your sweaty flushed expressions due to his ravenous gorging, your voice shrieking as you unloaded, his creamy covered lips curling swallowing gratefully.

“You're truly decadent.”

Your body and soul trembled in anticipation for what's to come; your legs falling off his shoulders to hug his firm hips. So did him, leading his dick slowly into your loosened yet smothering grip. "Let me make love to you." He grunted, you sucking him up as greedily as his cock started into the slow steady rhythm stroking your creamy grip.

“Fuck me! Please~! Don't stop~! Don't ever stop!” Your unhinged shouts of passion hit his ear as you hugged his neck, his own hot breath hitting your shoulder as he picked up the lace into the feverish fueled tapping; skin squelching and smacking noises bouncing off the walls.

“Fuck~! You’re heaven incarnate~!” Your sob filled yell riled up his necessity to bust his nuts in you even more. His feral groans in response had you squeezing him in a vice state, marking the side of his neck into a bruising suck, drawing scratches along his chiseled shoulder blades.

His own fingers dug into your rolling hips, finger shaped bruises painting your skin in kind, while his sharp teeth marked along your shoulder and neck, marking you as his and his alone, raising you further to the apex.

“I’ll fuck you until the world ends. This needy pussy deserves to be ravaged every waking moment. Every inch of you is mine to worship. Your beautiful womb filled up with my seed. That's my dream. To have you as my wife. To raise a family together. To make you Mrs. Sung!”

“Yes, Jin~! Yes~!” Your choked up agreement got lost in the sloppy, tongue filled kisses as you came a third in a row, making a cum circle around his shaft, painting his rippling thighs and the once pure sheets.

Your orgasmic greeting met with his, shooting right into your womb quite thickly, lifting you in his shredded grasp, externally and internally. Thrusting his still oozing libido into your heavenly valley like a madman to chase that euphoric high.

Your head limply rested on his shoulder like a pillow, fatigued mewls spilling out as the burning weight of his essence settled into your abdomen. Carefully setting you down on the bed, Jinwoo collapsed on his side, heaving slowly and deeply, his dazed eyes gazing at yours, glowing radiantly as the sunlight slipping in outlined your form.

Still submerged in you, now limp dicked, his muscular arm draped over you, pulling you both closer, all to have you curling into his slickened torso, breathing in your intermingled scent.

“Now call in sick.” Your weak request got him chuckling deeply.

“I will in a bit.” Curling your cascading hair through his fingertips, he caressed your pretty head, allowing the tranquil silence to linger.

“I love you, Y/n. So damn much. Thank you for being in my life, in this moment, and for the rest of our reign to come.” His whole being enveloped you in his bear hug of an embrace, drawing in your shared taste through an endearing kiss.

“I love you too, Jin. So damn much.” Your voice fluttered from the swelling of emotion taking hold on your heart, as you couldn't help but fall into the routine of peppering smooches all over that beautifully precious face of his.

“I'll love you. In this life and the next. Until the end of it all.” He vowed to you as you succumbed to sleep once again, smiling softly at your face, kissing your sweet lips once more before reaching out behind him for his phone, sending a quick text to Yoo Jinho about his impromptu work absence. His brother in arms was A-okay about, already suspecting fooling around with you being the reason why.

Jinwoo's next text was him dubbing Jinho as his best man at your upcoming wedding, already looking forward to seeing you on that sacred day, followed up by quite the steamy honeymoon.

He was already anticipating your future together, basking in the early morning, setting his phone aside as it filled with the following texts of congrats and excitement from his little bro, before joining you in the confines of dreams, cocooned in your shared comfy warmth, watched on by his shadow army in the corner, silently cheering for their master’s engagement with their future Queen Regnant.

[snowballseal]

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that. 

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look. 

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.” 

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question. 

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly. 

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers. 

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

[godjustkys]

euore older reader × Dean plsssss 🙏🙏 im beggingg

older!mreader x dean winchester smut drabble (to feed y'all until i post a real one shot)

heavy breaths filled the room as dean grinded his hips down into yours, his clothed cock pressing to your abdomen, although he could feel your bulge against the fabric of his boxers. your hands were resting on dean's hips, guiding his movements; so he wouldn't get carried away or make this quick. you wanted it slow and teasing.

dean grunted softly, his head lowered and eyes screwed shut, his hands seeking purchase on your shoulders to steady himself. he loved the feeling of your hands on him, they were huge, calloused and scar-ridden, showing how seriously you took your job as a hunter. you felt dean press down harder, getting a slight bit desperate and you tutted quietly, your lips next to his ear. “watch it.” you warned him once. dean sighed, his breath stuttering in the process. “slow down, dean. you need to go slow.” you instructed, pressing a gentle kiss to his earlobe, which caused dean to try and shy away as he was ticklish in some places.

your hands continued guiding his hips, moving them back and forth slowly. you let dean press down from time to time; you knew he was just trying to get off. “so good f' me, huh? needy lil thing,” you cooed, earning a groan from dean. his hands kneaded your shoulders subconsciously, his face scrunched up in annoyance. “fuck, c'mon..” dean said breathlessly, attempting to resist your grip. it didn't work, pathetically so. dean said your name in vain, his tone betraying his frustration.

“ah-ah,” you started. “nice ‘n slow f’me, nice ‘n slow.” you whispered the instructions. it sucked for dean, but he complied (begrudgingly) nonetheless. he did his best to slow his pace and not show how needy he was, his cock leaking pre already, still in the restraints of his pants. “this's torture. evil.” he complained in a whiny tone, his forehead pressed to your shoulder. continuing to guide dean's movement with one hand, your other moving up to gently take a hold of the younger's chin, making him look at you. he was so impatient it was cute. “make me cum like this and I'll fuck you good,” you said softly, your eyes locked onto his lips. your words earned an adorable, small moan from dean, his mouth agape as he ground his hips down, harder this time, pressing against your bulge. his eyes sparked with a hint of mischief. challenge accepted, it seems.