#ticklish!fitzroy
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|| The Two Princes Tickle Headcanons ||
(A/N): i don't care if I'm screaming into a void, these boys are my new favorite thing and they need tickles
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- rupert + amir have such corny tickle fights. THEY are the couple that grosses people out with all their lovey-doveyness
- amir's death spot is his lower tummy, so rupert's ultimate move is tummy raspberries
- it drives amir up the wall
- but he gets his own back by burrowing his thumbs into rupert's knees (his death spot)
- amir calling his husband "ru" during tickle fights is all I am thinking about rn
- rupert calls amir "my ticklish prince"; rip amir's dignity
- they both laugh very loudly, it's a miracle no one else in their castle can hear them
- rupert first found out that amir was ticklish the morning after they were married. amir wouldn't get out of bed for breakfast, so his husband tried lifting him out of bed, which might've worked had he not placed his hands directly on amir's sides. the silence that fell after amir's squeak was deafening... and then immediately replaced with rupert laughing and cooing over him ("oh. my. gosh!! are you ticklish?! looks like big tough prince amir's got a soft side!... wait no I'm sorry don't be embarrassed I think it's cute! like really really cute. almost makes me wanna doooooo this!" *tickles sides*)
- amir found out about rupert as soon as the latter let up. after he finished explaining how much he loves his husband's ticklishness, amir "innocently" asked if rupert was also ticklish. rupert, ever the naive mind, began rattling off on all his tickle spots and funny stories about how he once accidentally kicked his dog Fitzroy off the bed for licking his toes. it occurs to him to stop talking when he looks over and notices amir smirking. ("bu-but anyway!! that was all a LONG time ago and I am definitely NOT ticklish anymore haha! no siree ma'am" 😳); his facade does not last long, in 10 seconds he's giggling like a madman
- wake-up tickles are the ones that happen most frequently. while amir has spent his whole life waking up at the crack of dawn and training for battle, rupert has grown used to sleeping late, so he needs some encouragement on the regular
- tickle chases are also incredibly common. rupert can get carried away in his witty banter and accidentally cross a line. not a real line, but like saying something vaguely insulting. amir will go still and be like "... so it's gonna be like that?" with an evil smirk and rupert will squeal like a schoolgirl and sprint out the room (not-so-secretly, they're both having fun). they'll chase each other all the way from one side of the castle to the other, those chases are INTENSE. it's a normal occurrence for castle staff to be milling around, completing their chores when suddenly the two princes come running down the hallway like little boys, screaming and laughing all the way
- now that they are officially dads, wenceslaus gets his own share of tickles too
- rupert (ever the doting MomTM) calls himself the tickle monster when he's with wence and scoops him in his arms and pretends to gobble him up. cue amir swooping in and "rescuing" the young boy from the evil clutches of his husband
- wenceslaus is a pretty feisty young thing tho, and with rupert being such a sucker, he can get caught off guard and tickle attacked by his son
- amir isn't so easily overtaken. between amir and wence, it's mostly the former as the ler and the latter as the lee
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That's about all I've got so far. Who knows, maybe there are a couple of TTP fans out there
#tickle#tickles#tickling#ticklish#tickle community#lee talks#tickle headcanons#the two princes tickles
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fuse as a lee PLEASE!! it’s too cute 😆😆
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
After a particularly bombastic match, Fuse treats himself to a cold beer, a grilled steak, and a well-deserved nap. Walter enjoys a good R and R session after a little mayhem, and today is no different. However, instead of enjoying that nap, a rather mischievous Legend crosses his path, and his name is Octavio Silva. It’s too tempting not to prank Walter as he slumbers, and the poor man is down for the count. Rampart joins him in the mischief and, much to his surprise, they discover that the explosives enthusiast is ticklish. Now, it’s time for the real fun to begin!
“Ahhh, that’s the stuff…”
Walter murmured aloud after he’d downed the rest of his beer. It’d been a long and trying day in the Apex Games; his squad never seemed to catch a break, and many of the fights just barely went in his favor. If it hadn’t been for the extra grenades in his pockets or picking the right time to drop his Mother Lode, the championship would’ve gone to someone else. But, alas, he and his squad managed to pull through and claim the crown for themselves. It was an exciting game, no doubt about it, and those were the kind of games ole Fusey couldn’t get enough of. They reminded him of being back on Salvo, back in the Bonecage, where he put many a bloke to sleep with his fists. He was in the prime of his life then and, like a fine wine, he only got better with age. Of course, he couldn’t spend all of his time raising hell, and there was nothing better than a cold beer and a grilled steak after a hard day. He was even lucky enough to have the entire common room to himself, since the rest of the Legends were all scattered throughout the dropship. After putting the empty bottle down on the table, the explosives enthusiast stretched out onto the couch. He decided to take off his metal arm to get more comfortable and put it next to the discarded bottle. Then, the tiredness finally catching up to him, Walter closed his eyes and dozed off shortly after.
What Fuse didn’t know was that Octavio was actually within the vicinity, wandering throughout the halls without anything to do. Normally, he would be hanging with Ajay or pulling off some sick stunts in his Gauntlet. Ajay, however, was busy working in the med bay and didn’t have time to deal with her hyperactive friend. And his Gauntlet, much to his dismay, was closed down for maintenance along with the entirety of King’s Canyon. The speedster never liked rules and tried to sneak in anyway, but he was caught and received a stern warning from the Games’ admins. Octane muttered some Spanish curses under his breath as he wandered into the common room. Maybe, he thought, he could put those thermites that he swiped on his way out to good use. He noticed Fuse on the couch and speeded over to him, grinning. If he was going to do anything with grenades, he’d definitely want the explosives enthusiast’s on his side. Since he was approaching from behind, he didn’t notice that the old man was sound asleep.
“Hey, amigo! I saw your last game, you were awesome!” he complimented. He climbed over the couch and plopped beside him. “You gotta show me how you pulled off that stick with the arc star. A collateral like that would look sick on my feed.”
When Walter didn’t respond, he arched a brow and turned to him. The explosives enthusiast was slightly slouched over, fast asleep, with his good arm draped over his stomach. Octavio blinked and leaned in to poke his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. The gears in his head turned and he grinned widely behind his mask. If he wasn’t able to pull some stunts or hang out with Ajay, he decided that he’d do something just as fun: pull a prank.
It took about ten minutes, but Octavio managed to dig up a can of shaving cream and a feather for a classic prank. He gave the room a quick once over to make sure no one was around to either distract him or wake the older man up. When he was certain that the coast was clear, he popped open the can and tipped over to Fuse. He slowly grabbed his hand and pried it off of his stomach so he could turn it over with the palm facing up. Every now and then he paused, looking for any signs that he might be waking up, but he didn’t give any. Lucky for Octavio, it seemed like Walter was a heavy sleeper. Octavio put a handful of shaving cream in the man’s palm and chuckled excitedly. Sure, this was a popular prank, but it was still funny.
Oh man, mis amigos are gonna love this.
Octane put the can down and put the feather between his index finger and thumb. He stepped closer to Fuse and took a breath, quickly fluttering it against his right cheek. At first, he didn’t give a reaction. But after a second try, Walter scrunched his nose and turned his head away. The speedster repeated the motion, flicking the feather back and forth, but the older man would just scrunch up his face and squirm away. There were a couple of times where it looked like Fuse was going to use his hand to brush his face, but he kept putting it down at the last minute, earning a groan from Octavio.
“Come on, just a lil bit higher…” he murmured, deciding to switch to his left cheek and increase his efforts. Footfalls sounded off behind the daredevil, but he didn’t notice, so the curious individual was able to walk up right beside him.
“Oi, what’cha doin’?” Came Rampart’s loud voice, which startled Octavio. His head snapped towards hers and he brought a finger to his lips.
“Shh! I’m trying to prank dormilón (sleepyhead) over here,” he whispered, gesturing to the shaving cream with the feather. “So don’t wake him up.”
Ramya’s eyebrows rose and she sat down at the opposite side of Walter. “Gramps is down for the count, huh? Guess he ain’t all that spry after all.” she snickered. She craned her head over to see the shaving cream in his hand and smirked. “Ooo, that’s a classic prank right there. Want some help? Bet I could dig up some markers.”
Octavio shook his head and waved her off with his free hand. “Nah, I’m good. Just need him to itch his face.” He explained, poking the feather into Fuse’s left cheek at random intervals. Walter stirred and grumbled, making the speedster retract his hand. It looked like he was going to wake up but, thankfully, he calmed back down and returned to sleep. Rampart rolled her eyes, leaning over Fuse to take the feather from Octavio.
“You’re doin’ it wrong. Watch.” The modder instructed, wiggling the feather against Fuse’s nose. Walter grumbled again and turned his face away, but Ramya was persistent. She propped herself up on her knees and crawled closer to him. She leaned forward, flicking the plume against his nose again. She balanced herself with her hand against his side, unconsciously gripping it when he fidgeted. Walter twitched and exhaled sharply through his nose. He leaned away from the invasive touch, this time curling against the arm of the couch, and sighed deeply. Ramya blinked and glanced over at Octavio. The speedster met her gaze and inched closer to Fuse, cocking his head to the side.
“Is he…?” Octane curiously poked at Walter’s ribcage, earning a grunt and a quiet, yet undeniable chuckle. The speedster’s eyes lit up with mischief and he grinned at his accomplice. “Mira, looks like tough guy’s ticklish.”
Ramya matched his grin and she walked two fingers along his side. Fuse squirmed and pushed himself further into the couch’s arm. He chuckled and murmured something indecipherable, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. “I think you’re onto somethin’, mate.” The modder answered, crossing over his stomach to repeat the same motion on his other side. “Never thought I’d meet a ticklish Salvonian. Now I’ve seen it all.”
Octane and Rampart’s poking and prodding stirred ole Fusey out of his nap, albeit slowly. What started off as quiet grunts and chuckles evolved into prominent giggles as the duo increased their efforts. By the time Walter was somewhat conscious, his nerves buzzed with the ticklish sensations, and he jolted awake.
“AH! Whahat---oh, it’s just you lot.” Walter breathed a sigh of relief, unaware of the situation that he’d found himself in. He was still groggy from being disturbed from his nap. “You pups need somethin’? Or can this old dog go back to--”
He paused, feeling something foamy in his hand. He glanced at his palm and his eyebrows furrowed. “The hell? What’s this doing in my hand?”
Walter shook the stuff off of him. He noticed the feather in Ramya’s hand and smirked, putting two and two together. “Oh, thought you could prank ole Fusey, did ya?”
“He did,” Rampart nodded to Octavio, earning a glare from the speedster. “But he’s a bloody amateur. Guess it’s for the best though, otherwise we wouldn’t know how ticklish you are.”
Fuse gave her a bewildered look. “What?” he spat, yelping when Octane jabbed him in the side. “Hey, knock it off!”
Octavio chuckled. “Didn’t peg you as the ticklish type, amigo. That must suck for you.” He teased, aiming another poke at his stomach. Walter batted him away with his good hand and scoffed.
“I reckon everyone’s ticklish to some extent, mate. What of it?” The explosives enthusiast responded, only to have the realization hit him seconds later. He was sandwiched between two of the most mischievous Legends in the Apex Games, and he’d taken off the only thing keeping him from being the target of their mischief: his metal arm. Granted, the metallic limb wasn’t that far away from where he was, but one of the pups had agility on his side. Walter’s had worse odds though, so he lurched forward to grab it.
Like clockwork, the two younger Legends jumped into action. Octane grabbed Walter’s arm and pulled him backwards, causing him to yelp. Ramya was quick to get up and push the table holding the metal arm further away from where they were. Somehow, Fuse managed to free himself of the speedster's hold and stand up.
“Yeah nah, you lot can have the bloody couch. I’m going to enjohohohy myhyhy--ah! Stohohop!”
While Walter was distracted, Rampart snuck up behind him and poked at his sides. The explosives enthusiast sputtered and snickered, turning to fend her off next. This gave Octavio the opportunity to seize his arm and pull him back on the couch. Fuse yelled again and tried to push him back, but it was difficult to do with one arm. The ticklish pokes were only making it that much harder. So, although Walter outmatched both of the Legends in terms of physical strength, Octane was able to get him down and hold his arm above his head.
“Hurry, chica! Get his legs and I’ll keep his arm down.” The speedster called over his shoulder, adding to the tickle attack by scratching along Walter's stomach. Fuse arched his back and fell into a deeper pool of laughter.
“Nohohoho! Blohohohoody hehehell, gehehehet ohohohff mehehehe!” Walter protested, struggling to propel himself upwards by digging his heels into the couch. Ramya grinned and straddled the man’s waist, effectively pinning him down.
“Aw, ya ain’t afraid of a little tickling, are ya mate?” The modder teased, digging her wiggling fingers into his sides. Fuse laughed even louder and twisted his torso side to side.
“I ahahahain’t afrahahahahid of ahahahnytHIHIHIHNG!” He fired back, his laughter jumping in pitch when Octavio poked into the sides of his stomach. The speedster was positioned above his head, holding his arm down with his knee, and grinning widely. He opted for using his thumbs to drill into the spot, snickering when he bucked his hips and swore.
“Oh yeah? Then tell us where you’re most ticklish.” He challenged, smirking when Fuse’s head snapped up to him.
“WHAHAHAHAT?”
Octavio laughed. “You heard me! Tell us where your worst spot is, and we’ll leave you alone.” He repeated, using all of his nails to torment Fuse’s stomach.
“Maybe.” Ramya chimed in, finding his hip bones and giving them some quick squeezes. The old man yelled and swore again as he tried to buck her off of him. He didn’t want to accidentally send her flying across the room, but he hadn’t been tickled since his younger days, and he’d forgotten just how ticklish he really was. Granted, most people he came across didn’t want to tickle a man who had a metal arm and wielded explosives, but these two pups weren’t deterred at all.
Walter’s laughter was only getting louder the more they tickled him. Octavio had gotten bored of sticking to one spot and started poking at his ribcage. He arched his back and cackled; his ribs were a very ticklish spot, coming just shy of being his worst one. For a moment, he considered telling the pups where that spot was, if it meant they’d stop pestering him. But, the thought was gone almost as soon as it came up. If Ole Fusey was anything, he was certainly stubborn.
“NOHOHOHOHO!” He yelled, bucking his hips again when the speedster increased his efforts. “COHOHOHME OHOHN! YOHOHOHU’VE HAHAHAD YOHOHOHUR FUHUHUN!”
Ramya scoffed and reached behind her to squeeze his knee. He responded by yelping and drumming his leg against the couch cushions. “I thought you said you weren’t scared,” she simpered, her nails dancing along the top of his knee and underneath it. “It must be a really bad spot if ya ain’t gonna tell us. Which isn’t the best idea, cause we’ll find out eventually.”
Fuse tugged as hard as he could at his pinned arm, trying to wench it free, but the speedster held strong. He laughed harder the higher up Octavio tickled, throwing his body around. Octane was trying to gage which ribs were the most sensitive; he raked his nails against the bones at a rapid pace and scribbled at the spaces between them. So far, they all seemed equal in sensitivity, but the speedster wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAHAY WAHAHAIT!” Fuse screeched when the speedster lingered on his two centermost ribs. The younger Legends perked up, slowing the tickling down just enough to keep the poor man giggling.
“Yeah? Got something to say?” Octavio asked, rhythmically tapping against the fleshy part beneath his ribcage. Walter gasped and lost himself in heavy giggles before he was able to put some words together.
“Lehehehet’s….lehehehet’s mahahahke ahahaha deahahahal…” he tittered. Maybe while he bargained with them, he could keep them distracted long enough to pull his arm free. “Lehehehet mehehe up, let me get back to me nap. And I’ll tehehll ya whahat you wanna knohow after.”
Rampart arched a skeptic brow and gently skittered her fingertips over his stomach. Fuse flinched and sucked in his stomach, prompting the modder to apply a little more pressure. “How do we know ya won’t cut tail and run the second we let you go?”
“I wohohohn’t! Yohohur mahahate wohohould cahahatch up to mehehe! Cohohme ohohn…” Walter snickered when Ramya switched from the gentle touches to deliberate scratching. “Leheheht mehehe gohoho!”
Rampart looked up at Octavio while she circled one nail around the man’s navel. “I dunno...whaddaya think, mate? Should we let him go?”
Octane withdrew his hands and pretended to ponder the request. He was having fun; no, he was having a blast, and he wasn’t ready to stop any time soon! Fuse was one of the last people he’d ever thought to be ticklish, and he didn’t think this opportunity would present itself again. He gave the old man a brief moment to breathe before he dropped his hands back onto his ribcage. He prodded at the fleshy part beneath the ribcage and worked his way up the bones, earning a scream and loud fit of laughter. “Psh, no way! This is the least bored I’ve been all day.” He piped, laughing when Walter tried to roll away from him again.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO YOHUHUHU BLOHOHOHOODY DROHOHONGOHOHO!” Fuse screamed and writhed when Octavio kneaded back into his centermost ribs. Ramya giggled and reached underneath his shirt, scribbling her fingertips against his bare sides and tummy. This prompted another scream and an even louder burst of laughter. “STAHAHAHAP TIHIHIHCKLING MEHEHE!”
“Nah, sorry mate. He’s my partner in crime, can’t let him down.” The modder quipped, gently pinching both sides of his abdomen. Walter almost threw her off of his waist and shook with raucous laughter.
“BAHAHAHAHA! I’LL KIHIHILL YAHAHA BOHOHOHTH! I SWEHEHEHEHAR!”
The younger Legends were laughing almost as hard as he was and they picked up the tickling pace. “Ooo, I’m so scared.” Ramya snickered, circling her nails back around the man’s navel. Walter snorted and furiously kicked a pillow, sending it flying across the room. Octane momentarily stopped tickling him and threw his head back with laughter.
“Sí, you sound terrifying right now.” He added, smirking. He tickled up higher still, reaching his uppermost ribs, and scritched at them at a rapid pace.
Now, Walter wasn’t someone who was easily frightened, but the panic set in once the speedster attacked those ribs. He violently thrashed around with his laughter bordering on hysterics. If Octavio tickled any higher, he knew he wouldn’t last long.
“AHAHAHAHAHAH STHAHAHAHP! EHENOHOUGH ALREHEHEADY!” Fuse demanded through heavy fits of laughter. He arched his back when he alternated between the two ribs, rocking from one side to the other to try and avoid the tickles. His stubbornness was hanging by a thread now; maybe it would've been better for him to just come clean? Little did Walter know, neither Octane or Rampart were going to be as easily swayed now.
“Nope! You had your chance. And it looks like I found a good spot here.” The speedster answered with a grin, moving back down his rib cage to tickle each rib individually. Walter threw his head back and kicked another pillow off of the couch, his laughter taking on a desperate note. “Probably your worst one, right?”
Fuse frantically nodded. “YEHEHEHEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIHT IHIHIHIS! SOHOHO STOHOHOP!” He shouted, practically splitting his sides when he gently pinched the centermost ribs. His laughter took on different pitches depending on where Octavio tickled; poking beneath the rib cage made him giggle uncontrollably, tickling along the ribs themselves made him scream and roar with laughter. Rampart looked up at the two of them; she noticed that the higher up he tickled, the more the explosives enthusiast struggled. She grinned, reaching up to join Octane in tormenting his ribs by poking at his lowermost ones.
“You get his armpits yet? I think you’d wanna be thorough.” She offered, her grin widening when Fuse glared at her...or at least tried to. There was no way she could take him seriously with how hard he was laughing.
Octane glanced at her and chuckled. “No, don’t think I have. Are your armpits ticklish too, amigo?” He asked, slowly poking back up the man’s rib cage. He felt Walter stiffen and he beamed behind his mask.
“N-Nohohohoho! Thehehey’re nohohohot!” He lied; the unfamiliar feeling of panic eating at his nerves increased the closer his nails got to his armpits. Did ole Fusey’s voice crack when he told this lie? No, it didn’t! And he’d deny it for as long as it could...but that would just be another lie.
“No? Bummer.” Octavio bit back a smirk and sighed, leaving his hands resting on the top of the rib cage, just underneath where his armpits started. Ramya halted her tickling too and gave the speedster a questioning look. If he hadn’t been wearing the mask, she’d be able to see that mischief in his eyes was still going strong. Even Fuse, who was grateful for the break, was a tiny bit skeptical. He glanced at his hands and then at the kid’s face, breathing heavily. Was he really going to let him go, just like that?
Well, the short answer was no.
“Guess I’ll just have to forget about it and go see i--SIKE!”
Without warning, Octane buried his hands in Fuse’s armpits and wiggled his fingers around. The explosives enthusiast screamed and immediately dissolved into hysterical laughter. He didn’t even have a chance to fight it; the ticklish sensations came swift and sudden, and left him writhing on the couch. This time, he accidentally threw the modder off of him, and he could only pray that she wasn’t injured. Besides a yip of surprise and a few words of profanity, Ramya was perfectly fine.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! BLOHOHOHOOHDY STAHAHAHAHA--” Walter’s demands were lost in his laughter as he dug his heels into the couch again. Since his arm was the only thing pinned down, he bucked himself forward to try and sit up. It didn’t work the first time, and it spurred Octavio to tickle him faster, drawing out more protests and wild laughter. He tried again, and again, and one more time after that, but the tickling had weakened him, and he didn’t pull his arm free before Ramya collected herself.
“Heh, well that looks like that was a lie, huh?” Rampart noted. Since she didn’t want to get thrown off again, she decided to sit next to the couch and poke at his ribs. Walter snorted again and laughed even harder, his legs flailing all over the place. “All the more reason to tickle you. Right mate?”
Octavio happily nodded and fluttered his nails along the length of Walter’s armpits. “Yup! You brought this on yourself, señor.” He grinned, going on a search for an even more ticklish spot along the armpits.
Meanwhile, Fuse was dying laughing. He did all he could to try and propel himself forward to escape, but Octavio’s knee kept his arm in place. The last thing he wanted to do was plead, but he was running out of options, and he only had so much oxygen. “OKAHAHAY! ALRIHIHIHGHT! I’M SOHOHOHRRY!” He yelped, thrashing violently when the speedster lingered on the lowermost areas of the armpits, just a hair away from the ribs. Whenever he stroked there, he twitched and absolutely howled with laughter. “PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”
Ramya was the first to take notice; Walter didn’t seem like the type of guy to beg, so she assumed that they didn’t have a lot of time to keep on tickling him. She gently scratched at the ultra sensitive ribs that Octavio found: the uppermost and center most ones on each side of the rib cage. He desperately shook his head, attempting to dodge their hands, but they easily kept up with him. Thankfully, after a few more bouts of heavy laughter and intense struggling, Fuse finally pulled hard enough to get his arm free.
He immediately hopped to his feet and hurried towards his metal arm. The younger Legends blinked, surprised that he actually managed to get away, but it didn’t last long. They chased after him, laughing, and caught up with him before he could get a hold of his limb. Walter whirled around, extending his good arm out to defend himself, but it was too late. Both Octane and Rampart launched themselves towards the explosives enthusiast at the same time, each one burying a hand into an armpit. Fuse flinched and barked out some more protests mixed in with laughter, but ultimately, he ended up back on the floor in stitches.
“AHA! I GIHIHIHIHVE! I GIHIHIHIHVE! ENOHOHOHOUGH!” Walter yelled. He planted his hand on the floor and tried to use it as leverage to push himself up, but crashed back down when both Legends increased the tickling pace. At this point, poor Fusey was too tired to really try and get them to stop, so he could only shout another ‘plehehehehease’ before his laughter fell silent.
Rampart gradually halted the tickling and gently elbowed Octane. “Alright, alright. Let 's stop. Think grandpa is all tuckered out.” She chuckled, scooting back to give the man some room to recover. Octane pouted, but stopped shortly after Ramya did.
“Fine. Hey, no hard feelings, right amigo? I was super bored till you came along.” He added, heading over to where his metal arm was. He picked it up and handed it to Walter, who had to take a few extra minutes to catch his breath before he was able to grab it. He attached it back to his limb and exhaled. Fuse was still tired, but for a completely different reason now.
“...Glad I could be of service,” Walter quipped sarcastically. Octavio extended a hand to him to help him to his feet, and the older man accepted it gratefully. However, much to the speedster’s confusion, he didn’t release it right away. The speedster’s brows furrowed and he tried to tug his hand back to him, but when he looked into the man’s face, he saw a similar look of mischief in his eye. It made a shiver run down his spine. “But you do realize that disturbing me from my nap isn’t something I’m going to let slide, ay?”
Octane paled and only increased his efforts to yank his arm back to him. Thankfully, Rampart was still nearby, and she saved the day by giving the explosives expert another poke to the side. Walter yelped and jumped away from the touch, allowing both her and Octavio to scramble away. Fuse watched them go but, instead of chasing after them, he returned to his seat on the couch. He chuckled to himself; for now, he was going to return to his well deserved nap. But, when he woke up, ole Fusey was going to start some trouble...in more ways than one.
I was pretty nervous to post this since it's a little bit shorter than my usual fics, but the length of this one just felt 'right' when I finished writing and reread it. This is also my first time writing for Fuse and I'm still working on getting his character down, especially since this was kinda an impulse write :P. Anyways, I hope you liked the story.
#fuse apex legends#fuse#rampart apex legends#rampart#octane#octane apex legends#walter fitzroy#ramya parekh#octavio silva#ticklish!fuse#ticklish!fusey#ticklish!walterfitzroy#ticklish!walter#ticklish!fitzroy#apex legends tickle fic#apex legends
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@trackr asks; Spots to kiss + 24. i honger 4 fu/sehound,,,, → spot to kiss
── For Walter Fitzroy, one would typically sleep soundly and at ease; unable to be stirred by most noise or movement as he rested.
But in these moments, where he found himself sharing the comfort of his bed with a person he thought ever so fondly of-- the old man found himself restless. Not wanting to sleep away in fear that when he woke up, they were gone.
So, when the feathered feeling of their lips brushed over the skin of his shoulder. Walter felt an overwhelming sense longing burn brighter in his chest. He wished these moments would never end.
“Hmm.. Ya can’t sleep either Houndie?” The grenadier asked, shifting himself over so that he could face the glorious hunter resting beside him. Outstretching his hand and delicately cupping the scarred cheek he was very rarely graced to see. How beautiful they looked, nestled snuggly in his bed; allowing his home to be a place of comfort for them as well as their own. It was more than he ever wanted.
He stroked his thumb across their cheek tenderly, acting quick to close the gap between them and peppering the Hunter’s face with ticklish kisses before speaking up again. “Tell me what’s on ya mind pup. I’ll listen to whatever is keeping ya up”
#☕ into a world of pure imagination ──── { answered ; }#☁ requested ──── { fuse ; }#{ Gaige: Please may I have fu;sehound crumbs }#{ Me: -throws entire loaf of bread at- }
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I need some good keefitz feelings D: (which one of them is the one who aggressively tickles the other)
Keefe, for sure.
Sometimes Keefe thinks Fitz is a little too tightly wound, and needs to loosen up.
He knows Fitz gets too in his own head sometimes, and needs to be reminded that it’s okay to relax sometimes.
He tries everything-
He makes bad jokes just to get Fitz’s attention, but it only works 1/4 of the time.
He tries poking him in his side and Fitz repeatedly swats Keefe’s hand away.
Keefe teases him, of course, “what’s the matter Fitzy, you ticklish or something?” Keefe just laughs it off.
But then Fitz grumbles back, “mph no.”
Keefe’s smirk grows into a mischievous smile and before Fitz can finish saying “Keefe” he launches in a full tickle attack.
Fitz flails and tries to push Keefe away, but Keefe has a few inches on Fitz and they’re pretty evenly matched in muscle.
Not to mention Keefe somehow managed to trap Fitz on the ground in the midst of this attack.
Fitz is on his back and Keefe has a knee on either side of him.
“If you relax I’ll let you go, Fitzroy”
Fitz kicks his feet, out of instinct and to try to buck Keefe off of him. His words come out strangled between fits of annoyed laughter, “how am I supposed to relax while being tortured?”
Keefe’s fingers slowly stop, “tortured?” He pokes Fitz nose, but doesn’t make a move to get off of him. “Any time spent with me could never be torture, Fitzy.”
Fitz just lays back trying to catch his breathe. “You’re so annoying.”
He pushes Keefe back, not forcefully, but enough for him to fall between the space Firz created between his legs.
“But in a cute way, right?” Keefe’s smile reaches all the way to his eyes, causing the skin outside of them to wrinkle.
Fitz grumbled and rolled his eyes, but still nodded
Keefe pushes himself up, and holds his hand out towards Fitz, “come on, lets get some mallowmelt.”
Firz hesitates, but only for a second before letting Keefe pull him up.
Fitz doesn’t drop Keefe’s hand once he’s up, and instead intertwines their fingers.
Keefe’s smile turns soft when he notices that Fitz is feeling completely at ease. A sense of calm radiating off of him.
#why do my science work when I can throw some badly written Keefitz at you#lc asks#have this lazy piece of thing#😚#Keefitz
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You have a send me a ship ask a little bit back and I would really like to hear Fitzrain/Maplemancer! I know you're working on an AU (it's great!) so if it's a lot, just ignore this.
HECK YES. I will talk about these fools all day lets do this (and thanks for reading my au if anyone else is curious it’s Holding out for a Hero a bodyguard/US government AU)
Who said “I love you” first
Fitzroy was planning on saying it first, but then like, got too in his head about making it perfect and like writing out his declaration like a poem and it was never good enough so Rainer ended up surprising him and saying “Love ya” with a kiss on the cheek before they went to class. She pretended like it was just casual, but she had seen him rehearsing which is when she realized she loved him and so saved him the trouble.
Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background
Oh Fitzroy definitely sees it as like having a token of affection. Rainer has some photos saved, but her background will always be macabre animal art and I’m sorry Fitzroy, she loves you, but it would be a travesty to take that down.
Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror
Rainer did it once, but it scared Fitzroy way too bad ‘cause she left a creepy message and he thought the house was haunted. She apologized and never did it again, but silently thinks it was hilarious
Who buys the other cheesy gifts
Fitzroy LOVES getting Rainer all kinds of things, sometimes sweet tokens of affection like flowers and chocolate, or sometimes weird jewelry that makes him think of her, or sometimes just like a cool rock he found.
Who initiated the first kiss
Fitzroy overthought it again, so Rainer
Who kisses the other awake in the morning
Fitzroy did it once. She groggily punched him. Ever since they keep it to nice hugs and stuff.
Who starts tickle fights
Rainer. Fitzroy is very ticklish, while Rainer isn’t at all and its a crime.
Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower
Rainer invites him with her.
Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch
Rainer. I mean, she already surprised him with crepes.
Who was nervous and shy on the first date
Rainer was shy but wouldn’t admit it. Fitzroy was shy and so overcompensated with love ballads and like. Classic chivilry stuff.
Who kills/takes out the spiders
I mean Rainer just re-animates them so neither really
Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk
Both. They are That Annoying Couple. Argo’s just trying to eat his limes can you guys like, not.
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Welcome To Grail Academy - Chapter Fourteen: Too Young To Die
For an abandoned taffy factory, the beastly structure sure was animated. The tall smokestacks obscured the light of the sun, like grey obelisks marking an apocalyptic shrine. Groups of men and women in beige jumpsuits and caps rolled large crates out on trolleys, loading the packages onto the backs of taffy delivery trucks. A man with a thick beard and baggy eyes barked directions from the catwalk above, his potbelly bouncing as he yelled. It was systematic chaos, ants gathering food, bees building a hive, cockroaches scattering under light. The floor manager saw the line of children file into the factory through a garage door, nodded and pointed to a hallway that funneled out of the worker’s space. Queenie leading the pack, she directed everyone to follow.
Rettah held onto Yorick’s sweaty hand, pulling him along like a puppy on a leash. She was rambling about something, it could have been about a comic book she was reading, or maybe she was explaining their cover at the factory, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was still in sensory overload. Her hand on his was like holding an alligator’s tail, he felt every pore and ring of her fingerprints, every drop of sweat. The shouting and mechanical whirring of the machines sounded like standing in the middle of a bomb range. His heart was a flamenco dancer twirling and leaping in his chest, his legs were shaking, the images of Buck were stained on the insides of his eyelids every time he blinked. Scarlet swayed behind him, hands on his head.
The noise, noise, noise of the factory rattled in the distance as a new sound overtook Yorick’s ears. An argument, behind a closed door of what looked to be a freezer, presumably the place where this taffy company once stored product preservatives.
“The shipments are ahead of schedule, but the border keeps stopping our deliveries before they can leave Calicem.” A man’s voice, deep and gravely.
“We certainly can’t go after city government. It’s still an independent settlement.” A woman’s voice, stern.
“That’s exactly why we SHOULD. There won’t be any assistance from Mistral military.”
“Yes, but you forget their connections to Haven. The alliances between academies could prove to be bothersome, at the least.”
“Those toddlers are only a small inconvenience. If we move fast, we can collapse the communications tower and prevent any distress signals.”
Another woman’s voice, gentle and soft, cut through the bickering and hummed “Goodness, you call the hunters children while I sit here with a couple of infants! Play nice, you two”, the voice tittered.
The door to the locker was pushed open and the meeting came into full view. A circular wooden dining table sat in the center, a series of eight mismatched cushioned lounge chairs sitting around it. A tray with a silver tea pot and bowls of sugar cubes and biscuits was adjusted directly in the center. Those sitting at the table were all holding a cup of their own, although some did not drink the warm beverage. The room was cold, frigid, not quite to the point of frost or needing a jacket, but enough to send a chill down Yorick’s back. A man in a heavy orange and gold coat had his fist clenched on the table, his clean shaven head glistening in the reflection of his tea cup. A short woman sat across from him, the locks of her chestnut hair curling over her shoulder as she sipped her tea delicately, with her pinkie out. A boy with ragged black hair, shaved short in some parts and left long in others, sat on a crate in the corner, arms folded over his chest. “Be patient.” the gentle voice continued, echoing from somewhere in the far back of the room, dripping from the darkness like molasses. “There is no need to cause such a disturbance over a few delivery trucks. Let our people do their jobs, they have families to feed.”
“Pardon the interruption, but we have a new recruit” Queenie stated, gaining the abrupt attention of everyone’s eyes on her. She and Rettah stepped out of the way, and Scarlet shoved Yorick into the room. The boy on the crate shook his head and stood up, leaving the room. His arms unfolding as he trudged out made plain the dark marks on his back underneath his tank top, which Yorick stared at for a brief moment. He tripped over his feet and slipped into the room, not knowing what to do with his hands. He patted his legs and puffed out his cheeks, before that gentle voice hummed again. “You….”
suddenly, the darkness shrunk and a streak of black whooshed past the table. Now he was being embraced in a tight hug, by a pale woman who held his head to her naked breast. She was as cold as death, but somehow had the nurturing touch of a mother. She released him after an uncomfortably long five seconds, smiling excitedly and inspecting him. “Oh, he’s perfect! Just as I had imagined him. A magnificent specimen! Yes!” She poked the flesh of his forearms, prodded at his stomach, lifted the ends of his hair and counted a few strands, pulled one of his shoes off and felt around to make sure he had all his toes, stretched the goggles on his head as far as they could go, letting them snap onto his forehead when she let go. The process had Yorick giggling nonstop, since he had neglected to mention that he was extremely ticklish.
“What—Who are you? Where am I, what is this?” He asked, noticing the long trail of black hair winding behind the woman. She tittered again, petting his head and calming down.
“You must be very confused, I’m sure. My name is Sable Zil Alhaqiqa Trinity. But you may call me Sable. And this,” she held her arms out and gestured to the space around her, “is my temple.”
The man sitting at the table cleared his throat, and Sable turned to explain, “These are some of my disciples. Lolanthe Aylin, a scholar and the head of our production department, and Aurum Fitzroy, the leader of our field scouts.” She leaned over and whispered, “he also makes a wonderful raspberry biscuit.” Yorick looked back and saw that the man was angrily chewing on a biscuit with speckles of red berry in it.
A black tendril of hair draped itself over Yorick’s shoulder like an arm, Sable’s signal for him to turn around. “Walk with me, Yorick.” He glanced back to the rest of RSQ as the pair strolled down the hallway, and caught Rettah waving goodbye before the locker door shut behind them. “How do you know my name?”
“I know lots of things.”
Wow, that’s totally not creepy, he thought. Sable’s hair slid along the floor behind her, as if she wore a dramatically long veil to a wedding gown. They travelled through the factory, each assembly line and packing room adding to its daunting size. “Are you afraid of me, Yorick?”
“A bit, yeah.”
“That is understandable, haha.” She chuckled. He laughed as well, until Sable’s hair lifted off his shoulder and fell into place on her back. “I’m a strange person. We are strange people!” She was right about that.
“Do you know about the Hedge Witches?”
“We….learned about them in class, I think.” He scratched the back of his hand. The little he knew about them wasn’t exactly in a good light.
“Then you know what we do here.”
“You’re anarchists. Terrorists.”
Sable snorted, “Oh, nothing that dramatic.” They reached a room with ceiling-to-floor windows that hung above the work floor, but the windows were almost entirely covered with sheets of scribblings and notes. “My disciples are not mindless brutes. They are scientists, artists, teachers, chefs, lawyers, those who have been wronged by Calicem government. The ones who run this city, they are oppressors. They profit from marginalized people’s misery.” As she spoke, Yorick strolled around the room and read some of the notes. They seemed to be a combination of diary entries and experiment logs. “....The world has been cruel to us. We were born out of hate and fear, not love. That is why I do this, Yorick. I want to create a new world. A better one.” The branches of hair slithered up the walls of the room like spilt ink, and when Yorick turned around, Sable was reclining in a hammock of her own hair. He could sympathize with her reasons. But Yorick questioned her, “Why do you need me, then?”
“Because,” Sable plucked a piece of paper off of one of the walls and handed it to Yorick. ”This power is your destiny.” Yorick clutched the newsprint photo in his hand, recognizing the face of his grandmother on the paper.
“Who. The hell. Is Sable.” Esmerelda slammed her hands down on the headmaster’s desk, grinding her teeth. Her team and herself were all looking worse for wear, Bernard blinking in and out of consciousness on the couch in the corner, Nico sitting beside him with his partner’s head in his lap, wincing with every breath he took. The school nurse peeled Bernard’s eyes open and shone a small light to see if his pupils dilated (which they didn’t), and applied a salve to the many purple and red marks across Nico’s chest and stomach. “It’s a miracle you don’t have any broken bones. Just a couple of bruised ribs.” The nurse remarked while she wrapped gauze around Nico’s torso to hold him together. Esmerelda herself had bandages wrapped around her forearms where the wires cut her, and around her neck where Queenie had attempted to slit her throat.
“I understand that you’re upset-” Madehold tried to calm down her students, but to no avail. “-UPSET!? My team and I could have died out there. Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it. For gods sake, they took Yorick and killed one of their teammates! How could you let those monsters into the academy? And why did they know so much about you and the school? And WHO IN THE GODS NAMES IS SABLE!?”
Madehold let out a long sigh, lacing her fingers together and holding them up to her lips as she sat there. It was one thing to have to deal with these kids screaming at her so late at night, but it was another thing to do so while she was inebriated. After a moment, she turned in her office chair and stood, making her way to the window. “I guess I have some explaining to do, don’t I?”
#rwby#rwby oc#grail academy#welcome to grail academy#ebny#team ebny#nico#esmerelda#bernard#yorick#fanfic#fanfiction#rwby fanfic#rwby fanfiction#oc#ocs#oc fanfic#oc fanfiction#punk
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Heya! So as an apex player that is also a part of the tk community I’ve had a blast seeing and reading your stuff! It’s so fluffy and perfect ;-; 💞 just wanted to drop a request if that’s possible, feel free to ignore it!
But out of all your stuff, Lee Bloodhound was just what never knew I needed… and with some voice lines between them and fuse I just.. imagine how fluffy.. ;-; ok bye✨
A/N: There was no way I could hear these new voicelines from Season 14 and not write something for it. I kinda also used inspiration from this Apex Legends comic. It's been a while since I've written for Bloodhound, but I really hope you like it!!
Tongue Tied
Bloodhound’s been trying to show more affection towards Fuse, and Fuse is only too happy to return the favor. He gets a kick out of flustering the hunter and tends to leave them speechless. Things heat up after their match, and Fuse tickling them silly doesn’t help cool things down.
Bloodhound loomed over the last downed member of the enemy squad; they knew, since the death boxes did not immediately appear, that someone had a golden knockdown shield. And, seeing how Pathfinder was moving behind a large storage box, they had a good inkling that he had it. They stopped him and brandished their ax, aiming and throwing it to hit right between the optic. Path went down with a crash; and, finally, both his and Mirage’s death boxes appeared at their feet. But, before they could claim the spoils, they had to pick their own teammate up.
Mirage had gotten the jump on Fuse, ambushing him using his ultimate, and Pathfinder had the perfect perch to rain down shots. He would’ve been a goner if not for Hound coming in at just the right time and mowing them down. The hunter knelt down to revive him.
“Back on your feet, my mate.” Hound said. They grabbed his arm and gave it a strong pull to help him up. Fuse, cracking his bones, exhaled a sigh of relief. Then, while he healed, he eyed the hunter with a grin.
“Oho, mate, eh?”
Hound looked up from a box, their eyes widening with realization. “Oh, nei!” They responded, their cheeks flushing with embarrassment. They looked back down and continued rooting through the box. “Forgive me, I am veikr with your tongue--er, language!”
Walter chuckled and moseyed his way over to them. He knelt down at the same box and playfully bumped their shoulder with his own. “Ain’t nothin’ to forgive, Houndy. I wasn’t complainin’.” He hummed. Hound wouldn’t look at him, so he gently bumped shoulders again. The hunter jumped and finally glanced up to meet his eye. Walter’s grin widened. “It sounds nice, comin’ from you. Even if that’s not exactly how we say it…mate.”
Bloodhound sighed. “I will learn how you speak with time, Walter.” They murmured, pocketing a few more stacks of ammo before standing. “This, I promise you.”
Fuse followed suit. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got all the time in the world, ay?” He responded, winking. Hound nodded, a small smile tugging at their lips. But just when they thought they were in the clear, Walter continued. “Now, if it’s my tongue you’re lookin’ to learn, well…I’m down for that whenever you’d like.”
Hound blinked, their blush returning in full force. They whirled around to address them, their mouth open…but they couldn’t come up with anything to say. Finally, they stammered, “T-This is not the time for jokes. Let us return to the hunt.”
Fuse smirked and followed after them. They made their way onto a high hill that overlooked the arena. Bloodhound knelt down and brought the scope of their Sentinel up to their eye. Then, while they surveyed the area, Walter leaned down and got close enough to whisper, “I wasn’t jokin’.”
The hunter yelped and accidentally fired their gun. The sound rang out over the arena and, most likely, alerted any nearby squads to their position. Slowly, Hound lowered their weapon and leered at him. The Salvonian defensively raised his hands.
“Just thought you’d wanna know.” He teased. Just then, a smoke bomb came launching at them from afar, exploding at their feet. Hound flinched and pulled the man down to their level before they used their tactical. Bangalore was pushing up on their location with Newcastle bringing up the rear. The hunter looked at their teammate and huffed.
“The andskoti are aware of our position. I’d like to focus our attention on the hunt now, Walter.” They insisted, swapping their sniper out for their assault rifle. Walter got back up and readied their Mother Lode.
“Alright, I’ll behave. Let’s win this bloody game, ay?”
Walter made good on his promise up until it was his turn to pick them up. Despite their best efforts, Hound’s mind kept wandering, and they weren’t as focused as they claimed to be. And Walter didn’t make it any easier when he said, “You ain’t dyin’ until you take me out, Houndy. Hunting, I mean.”
Bloodhound exhaled as they were pulled back onto their feet. They shook their head, a smile tugging at the corner of their lips. “Have you forgotten your promise?”
Fuse snickered, saying, “I guess I can’t help myself.”
Later, when the match was over, Bloodhound decided to bring Walter two cases of his favorite beer. They figured it would be as good a gift as any, especially since they owed him at least two rounds from previous matches. They descended the drop ship and followed the scent of cooked meat to find him. When they did, they called, “Walter Fitzroy.”
Fuse looked up from what he was doing. He smiled. “Hey, Houndy.” he greeted. “Whatcha up to?”
For a moment, Bloodhound faltered, and the beer suddenly felt heavy. What if they brought the wrong kind? What if Walter didn’t like it? They took a breath and pressed forward, putting both cases on an adjacent table. “I brought a gipt for you.” They answered, turning both cases around so he could see them. “As a token of my gratitude for preventing my defeat in battle.”
Fuse beamed and, turning off the heat on the grill, strode over to them. “Well, cheers very much! You didn’t have to do that for me.” He answered, hooking his flesh arm around their shoulders. He squeezed. “Seriously, thank you.”
Bloodhound chuckled warmly and said, “It is no trouble.”
Fuse moved his arm and reached around them for a bottle, pushing it into their hands. “Come on,” he started, fishing in his pocket for an opener. “Let’s crack ‘er open, ay?”
There was only one person that Hound felt comfortable removing their mask around, and that person was Walter. They sat around the campfire Walter made and removed their respirator. Walter plopped down across from them, popping the cap off of his beer.
“So,” he drawled, his grin illuminated by the glow of the fire. “Whaddya wanna toast to this time? Our win? Maybe health and good fortune? Or…”
Bloodhound tsked, smirking. They knew where this was going, and they weren’t going to follow him. “As I have already told you…” They answered, watching the man’s grin widen. “I did not give a toast to butt smacks.”
Walter threw his head back with a laugh. “That’s exactly what you did!” he insisted, slapping his knee. “I know what I heard. Those words literally came outta your mouth.”
“You misheard me!” Hound protested, snickering. Fuse smirked and, leaning forward, he clinked his bottle against theirs. Then, both Legends took a sip of their drink.
“Look, all I’m sayin’ is that if ya ever wanted to smack my arse, you could go right ahead. I wouldn’t mind.” Fuse said. “Hell, I reckon I’d like it.”
Hound choked on their drink. “Walter--” They coughed, putting their bottle down. Fuse chuckled.
“I’m not sayin’ you have to, just that the offer’s on the table.” He responded, winking. Bloodhound cleared their throat and slowly nodded.
“...I understand.” They replied. They picked their bottle back up and took another sip. Walter did the same. His eyes flicked over to the hunter every now and then, noticing that their face was getting red. He grinned.
“You’re thinkin’ about it, aren’t you?”
Hound’s blush darkened and they frantically shook their head. “Nei! I am thinking of no such thing.” They blurted out, slightly turning away from the Salvonian. “I simply underestimated the strength of the flames..”
“Then why’d you turn away from me?” Fuse pressed on, getting up to sit beside them. Hound dismissively waved their hand, mumbling something, and still refused to turn back around. Walter gently poked their back. “Houndy~”
Hound fidgeted, but otherwise didn’t respond. Walter poked them again, this time aiming for the back of their ribs, and he heard them gasp. He kept on doing it, keeping up with their squirming, until the hunter finally reached an arm around. They batted at his hand.
“Enohough..” They tittered. Fuse grinned and slowly moved closer to them.
“Hard to hear ya when you’re givin’ me the shoulder. What’d you say?”
Hound felt Walter’s presence getting closer. They turned around right as he jabbed at their hip, making them yelp loudly. They threw their hand over their mouth, praying to the Gods that no one heard them.
Then, still snickering, Hound whispered, “Plehease dohohon’t do that…”
“What? I still can’t hear you. Move your bloody hand outta the way!” Fuse laughed. He kept on advancing towards them, boxing them in between himself and the corner. He reached for the hunter’s wrist, but they pulled it back. Now, just within an arm’s length of them, Fuse warned, “I ain’t gonna ask again, Houndy.”
Bloodhound raised their free arm, preparing to defend themselves. The playful glint in the Salvonian’s eye was undeniable. And, they realized that they didn’t have any escape routes where they didn’t have to go through him. The hunter slowly extended their arm out, gently pushing him. “Walter, please. Give mehehehe a mohohohment—”
Instead of going for their hips again, Walter returned to their ribs, attacking them with light pokes. Hound flinched and moved their hand from their face, squirming more vigorously.
“Noohohohoho!” Hound whined, belting out a laugh whenever Fuse got a sensitive rib. They grabbed onto his hands to keep them at bay, but Walter kept getting one hand free and resuming his attack. So, Hound pivoted their body to the side, using their free arm to block some more. “Stohohohp it, Wahahahlter!”
Instead of complying, Walter wrenched both hands out of their grip, pushing them under their arms. He prodded at their armpits, earning a yelp of laughter. His hands ended up trapped under their arms, but it didn’t stop him from tickling. Hound yelled and laughed harder, making the Salvonian grin.
“Ah, there ya are! Thought I lost ya for a second.” Walter chuckled. It wasn’t easy to bring the hunter down; they were strong, and he had to really worm his fingers along their armpits before they finally fell. Then, he kneeled over them, working to get ‘em pinned down. He scooped their wrists up into his metal hand and pulled them above their head. Now that there wasn’t anything hiding their face, he could easily see their flushed cheeks and wide grin. “What’cha blushin’ for, mate? Was it somethin’ I said?”
Hound’s eyes widened and they struggled harder to free up their hands. They turned their head away from Walter’s teasing grin. “I already tohohold yohuhu…” They panted, tugging against his grip. “I became overheated…”
“Heh, that’s a hell of an understatement.” Walter, keeping their wrists in his metal hand, resumed his tickle attack on their armpits. This time, he took his thumb and dug it into their hollows, earning more laughter. “And you’re sure it has nothin’ to do with what I said? Nothin’ at all?”
“I ahahahm cehehehertain!” They repeated. They arched their back and laughed louder when Walter scratched his thumb around in circular motions. “AHaha! PLehehehehease dohohohohn’t!”
Walter snickered; getting Hound to laugh was a treat on its own, but being able to see their smile was the icing on the cake. “Fair enough,” he shrugged, dropping his hand onto their rib cage. This time, he scratched between the bones giving extra attention to the spots that made them yell. “I still ain’t lettin’ you go, though.”
“Whyhyhy?!” Bloodhound yelled. They drummed their legs against the ground when Walter switched from scratching to kneading in between their ribs.
“Because! I didn’t know you smiled like this when I make you laugh,” Fuse responded, suddenly gripping their hip bone and squeezing. Hound, bucking their hips, screamed and cackled. Walter did it again, having to sit down on their legs to keep from falling off. “Haha! I wouldn’t miss this for the world, mate.”
“NOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAP!” Hound yelled, writhing under his weight. They bucked again when he drilled his thumb into their hip. “REHEHELEASE MEHEHEHEHE!”
“Fine, but only cause I like you, ay?” Walter grinned. He let go of their wrists, as promised, but went right back to attacking their hips. This time, he grabbed onto each hip and dug all ten of his fingers into the bones. Hound thrashed against the ground, trying to get him off of the awfully ticklish spot. Their hands shot forward and gripped onto his wrists, pulling frantically, but he wouldn’t budge.
“THIHIHS IS NOHOHT WHAHAHAT I MEHEHEANT!” They laughed, squeezing his wrists. Fuse laughed along with them and pinched just above the hip bones. Hound yelped and threw their head back, laughing harder. “WAHAHAHALTER!”
“What? I let you go, didn’t I?” Walter playfully tutted, continuing to tickle the spot just a hair above the hip bones. Hound bucked again, dipping into hysterics, and made it that much harder for Fuse to keep tickling. “Now what’re you whinging about?”
Hound was laughing too hard to answer him. So, after re-pinning their arms above their head, Fuse poked at random spots along their armpits. The hunter panted, their hysterical laughter dying down to heavy giggles.
“Plehehehease stohohop tickling meehehehe…” They gasped, flinching when he flicked his nail at the center of the armpit. Fuse scoffed.
“Nope, what’d I say? I’m lovin’ this smile you’ve got.” He said, poking their cheek to make a point. When he smiled again, it was a kinder, gentler smile, unlike the previous teasing ones. “It suits ya.”
Once their breathing regulated, Hound nodded politely, slightly bowing their head. Although they were comfortable in removing the mask around him, the compliments were new, and it gave them butterflies. “Thank you, I appreciate you saying so.” They replied, smiling. They moved to pull their hands down, believing he was done tormenting them…but Walter hadn’t loosened his grip. Fuse smirked at them and squeezed their wrists. That was all the motivation Hound needed to renew their squirming. “B-But surely there are other methods…!”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” Fuse agreed, poking a finger back into their ribs. Hound recoiled to the side and yelped. “But they wouldn’t be as fun as this.”
“No! Wahahahahahait!” Hound pleaded, jumping again when he poked the opposite side of their ribs. They tried to reel in their giggles and focus on escaping…but Walter wasn’t making it easy for them. They shook their head, twisting from one side to the other, while his hand danced across their rib cage. “Yohuhuhu dohohohn’t hahahave tohohoho dohoho this!”
“Like I said, it’s too damn fun.” The Salvonian repeated, raking his nails along a particularly sensitive rib in the middle. He wasn’t tickling very hard but, from the way Hound was giggling, it was hard to tell. He chuckled. “I’m barely touchin’ ya! You’re just a cute lil’ bundle of nerves, aren't cha?”
And just like that, Hound blushed again. They opened their mouth to answer, but ended up arching their back again when Fuse poked a finger into their hip.
“NOHOHOhohoho I am nahahahat!” They argued, yelping out a laugh when Fuse poked into their other hip.
“Liar,” Walter shot back, smirking. Although it was easier to tickle them when pinned, it kept him from getting to both of their hips at the same time. So, he let their hands go again and went for the spots, latching on despite Hound grabbing his wrists. He squeezed again, again, and one more time for fun, leaving the hunter in stitches.
“WAHAHAHALTER PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Hound yelled. They bucked their hips repeatedly and pulled at his wrists with all their strength, but it didn’t deter him. Their laughter echoed into the night as they kicked and bucked. Just before their laughter could go totally silent, Hound noticed that the flames of the campfire were dimming, and it was their only usable life line. “STAHAHAHA! THEHE--THEHEHE FLAHAHAMES!”
Fuse halted their tickle attack, arching a brow at them. “What?”
Bloodhound breathed heavily, blinking the tears out of their eyes. “Yohuhuhu need…tohoho relight thehehe fire…”
Fuse glanced over at the campfire. “Oh, right. Don’t go anywhere, ay?” He responded, giving their hips one more squeeze before he let them go. The fire had gone down a lot, and it’d take some work before he could get it bright again. Bloodhound rolled onto their side, still trying to catch their breath. By the time they did, Walter was still working on the fire, and they’d gotten up to finish their drink. Fuse heard the shuffling behind him and glanced over his shoulder.
“Houndy, where’re you off to?” He called, having to squint in the darkness. Bloodhound, however, was accustomed to the dark, and could see the Salvonian just fine. They opened their mouth, but then closed it, toying with the idea of revenge. They remained silent and began approaching him from behind. They were quick to grab their respirator and attach it back to their mask. Their steps were slow and deliberate, as if they were stalking prey, and they made little to no noise. Walter whirled around to where he thought he heard them, but he still didn’t see anything. “Alright, very funny, mate. I can’t see a damn thing! Can’t ya just tell me where you are?”
Hound smiled and refused to say anything…until they were close enough to attack. “I am right here, Walter.” They whispered, suddenly seizing his side and squeezing. Fuse yelled in surprise, turning sharply, and falling flat on his butt. He didn’t land anywhere near the fire, but his scream kind of made him wish he did. Bloodhound snorted.
“I apologize. I thought you heard me approach.” They said, snickering. Fuse narrowed his eye.
“Oh no, you’re not laughin’ at my expense! Come here,” He shouted, grabbing their leg to pull them down. Bloodhound went down, again, but not without a fight. For a while, both of the Legends’ laughter filled the night sky. But ultimately, because Hound didn’t get Walter’s metal arm off in time, the Salvonian won the tickle fight and re-pinned them down. He squeezed and tickled all along their waist and hips, making them howl with laughter.
“STOPSTOPSTOP!” Hound cackled, but Fuse refused to let up. If they wanted to laugh, he’d make them laugh.
#bloodhound apex legends#bloodhound#bloth hundr#bloth hoondr#apex legends#fuse apex legends#fuse#walter fitzroy#ticklish!bloodhound#lee!bloodhound#ler!fuse#ler!walterfitzroy#fusehound#bloodhound x fuse#fuse x bloodhound
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For the match up thing, (tickles plz)
I’m a very shy person because of social anxiety.
I love video games
Once I get to know someone, I’m super loud and hyper. I love making stupid jokes that everyone thinks is annoying. In general, if I’m comfortable with you I’m gonna be annoying and never leave your side.
I know this is kinda bad but I really wanna see who I would get paired up with!!!
Hi! I think I recognize you, and I matched you up with Fuse. Mirage was a very close second. I hope you like it! Guitar Hero inspired me for this one.
Bring The Noise!
You’ve bonded with Fuse over video games, but you can’t accept that he’s better than you. You tickle him to get him to mess up, and all hell breaks loose.
Let’s face it; you weren’t a renown tracker, like Bloodhound. Or a professional thief, like Loba. You didn’t have a killer instinct like Revenant or Ash. And, up until recently, you couldn’t shoot a gun without flinching. So, what was your claim to fame as an Apex Legend?
Well, that’s something that you were still trying to figure out. Not everyone made it to the Apex Games, and that had to mean something, right? Kuben Blisk saw something in you. But, now you were trying to see just what that something was.
This didn’t help with your interactions with the other Legends. Although you didn’t have any proof, you were certain that the others didn’t think highly of you. Legends like Revenant, Ash, and Caustic didn’t count though; they didn’t think highly of anyone except themselves. As for the others, though, you were convinced that anyone who looked your way was judging you.
So, you kept to yourself and, when you weren’t training or competing, you busied yourself with your favorite hobby: video games. And today, you found the common room empty. Given how crowded the dropship was, it was almost too good to be true. You grabbed your favorite snack and drink before turning on the TV. You loaded up the game console, and picked up the guitar needed for Guitar Hero 5.
You viewed the leaderboard before you played, smiling. Forget the Apex Games, this was where you shone, and no one had taken your spot as #1. You put your name as Legend123 on the leaderboards to not draw too much attention. Unbeknownst to you, having an anonymous screen name sparked some funny arguments between Octane, Crypto, and Mirage. Octavio claimed that he was #1, but Elliott said that he was bluffing and that it was actually him. And then, he dragged Crypto’s name through the mud by accusing him of hacking the game and changing his name on the leaderboard. Crypto argued that neither of the morons had the attention span to finish a game. And that kept the argument going.
You decided to start by playing 2 Minutes to Midnight. Since you were alone, you felt comfortable enough to hum along and nod to the beat. You had your own private concert…that is, until you had an audience.
Ol Fusey approached you from behind, six pack of beer in hand. The weather in the Outlands was nicer than normal, so he was on his way outside until he heard the music. He grinned, taking a swig of his drink, and waited for the song to end before speaking.
“Well, someone’s a rockstar in the makin’, ay?”
Flinching, you whirled around to face Fuse. You held the guitar in a tighter grip to keep from dropping it.
“Oh,” you breathed, fumbling to come up with a response longer than one word. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Walter’s grin widened as he rounded the couch. “You oughta get yourself a guitar of your own.” he said, standing beside you. “I’m more of an acoustics man myself, but this lot could use another ax player around here if ya ask me.”
You nodded, unconsciously leaning away from him. Clearly this guy had no qualms about personal space. “I never thought about playing the guitar before,” you admitted. “I guess I just like the music in this game.”
“Right, just imagine the same on the big stage, ay?” Walter went to nudge you with his good arm but stopped short, noticing how much further away you were. That’s when he realized - he hadn’t introduced himself!
“Hell, where’re my manners? Name’s Walter Fitzroy, better known as Fuse.” This time, he extended his metal arm out to you. You scooted towards him, visibly hesitating, and gripped his hand.
“(Y/N).” You responded, quietly. You expected him to let go afterwards, but instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t worry, it don’t bite. And neither do I, ay?” He chuckled. He released your hand before he downed the rest of his drink. You took the opportunity to go back to the song list. Although you had a blast in your jam session, having someone watch made you feel self-conscious. So, when you moved to turn off the game, you weren’t expecting Fuse to say what he said next.
“Say, you reckon I can play a few rounds with ya?”
You stared at him, thinking he was joking. Walter put his hands up defensively.
“I’ll admit, video games weren’t my thing back on Salvo. But you kids seem to go downright mad for ‘em.” Fuse continued, grinning. “I’d like to see what the fuss is all about.”
You were still standing there, dumbfounded, and waited for any indication that he was pulling your leg. But, there was an earnestness in Walter’s smile, and it made you crack a smile of your own.
“Sure, let’s play.”
Over time, the friendship between you and Fuse blossomed. He was really easy to talk to, and although you started slow, you found yourself talking just about everything. You mainly talked about gaming though, and now that you were more comfortable, you let more of your personality shine.
“Hey, did you know head banging gives you bonus points?” You grinned, throwing a quick glance his way. Fuse didn’t look at you. His brow was knit in concentration as he strummed and pressed on the buttons.
“Then why aren’t you doing it? You could use a few points.”
“Wha--hey!” You giggled, sticking your tongue out. Teaching Fuse how to play had been anything but boring; you were having a blast! But he learned faster than you anticipated, and had gotten pretty good. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was close to beating your high score.
“After all I’ve taught you, that’s the thanks I get?” You waited for a lull in the song before you moseyed up to him, jabbing him in the side. Fuse flinched and mashed two buttons.
“Watch where you’re pokin’, ay?” He batted you away with his good arm, putting the guitar’s neck against his shoulder. You blinked, poking him again anyway, and he leaned further away from you. “(Y/N)! Knock it off!”
“...I didn’t know you were ticklish…” You smirked, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You paused the game, prompting him to turn towards you with extended arms.
“Hey now, just cause yer gettin’ your arse handed to you in the game, doesn't mean that you hafta resort to cheatin!” he accused. You playfully gasped and lunged at him, but he held you back.
“You take that back! Only reason why I’m losing is because I’m helping you!” You yelled back. You made every attempt to wiggle out of his hold, but he didn’t budge. Walter cocked his head to the side and grinned.
“So you’re lettin’ me win?”
“NO! I’m saying you’re not as good as you think you are.” You gave up on trying to poke him again; now, Fuse was lightly pushing your forehead to keep you from advancing forward. You flailed your arms around, making the scene look that much funnier. Walter snickered.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we? That is, if you’re done pesterin’ me.”
Pursing your lips, you stopped flailing your arms, nodding. “Yeah yeah, I’m done.” You repeated. Walter raised a brow, looking skeptical, and you gave him the most innocent grin you could muster. “I pwomise.”
The Salvonian still wasn’t buying it, but he let you go. “Alright mate, but know this,” he started, looking you dead in the eye with a smirk of his own. “You try ‘n tickle me again, and it’ll be yer funeral, ay?”
Fuse’s threat echoed in your head as the two of you resumed the game. He managed to pull ahead but, with the guitar solo coming up, it was a great opportunity to earn a lot of points. And you were determined to keep your crown.
You hit the notes as they came up, wanting to get your score as close to his before striking. The beat had picked up, but you’d played this song so many times, you probably could’ve done it blindfolded. While playing, you ever so slightly sidestepped towards Fuse, glancing at him every now and then to make sure he didn’t notice. And then, just before the big finish, you let go of your guitar and gripped his side, squeezing. Fuse cried out and lurched away from you, missing at least five notes.
“Aha! You lihihttle--” Walter took the guitar from around his shoulders, tossing it onto the couch behind him. “So that’s how you wanna play, huh? Come here!”
Fuse tried to grab you, and you just barely dodged him. Then, throwing your guitar off your shoulders, you made a beeline for the exit. Fuse chased after you, hot on your tail, and you screamed and laughed down your way down the hall.
He was gaining on you faster than you’d anticipated, so you had to get creative. You vaulted over tables, pushed chairs behind you, and even changed directions on a dime in order to get away. But nothing worked; at this rate, Fuse was gonna catch you, and there were only so many places you could run. Just before you could duck down another hallway, Walter lunged forward and grabbed you with his metal arm.
“Gotcha!” He cheered, easily picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You squealed and squirmed in his grip.
“No! Walter, don’t!” You protested, your squirming intensifying as he brought you back into the common room. He dropped you onto the couch and immediately descended onto your sides, making you burst out giggling.
“Oh no, I tried to play your game, but this is more your speed, ay?” He dodged your flailing hands, drilling his thumbs into your hips, and you laughed harder.
“NOhohohohohoho! It’s nahahaht! It’s nahahahat!” You squealed, deciding to try to block access to your torso with your arms. Fuse stopped you by using his metal hand to scoop up your wrists, holding them above your head. You panicked and cried out when he poked at your ribs. “I wohohohn’t dohohohoho it agahahahahin!”
Walter scoffed, scritching at the spaces between your ribcage. “Yeah nah, I’m a man of my bloody word, mate.” He responded, grinning. He reached higher and dug into your armpit, making your laughter grow in pitch.
“I WOHOhohohohohn’t!” You insisted, tossing to and fro when he drilled his thumb into the hollows. “Plehehehease! I prohohm-prohohomise--”
The Salvonian gave you a skepticl look and you froze. Frantically, you tried to elaborate on what you said.
“WAHAHAAHIT! I mehehehan it this tihihme! WALTER!”
All of a sudden, Fuse released your arms and attacked both of your armpits. You screamed and slammed your arms against your sides, your laughter filling up the room.
“STAHAHAHAHAHA!” You squealed. You squeezed your arms against your side, trying to deter him from tickling, but he easily kept wiggling his fingers around.
“Now I know you think my head doesn’t screw on straight, if you think I’m fallin’ for that again!” Fuse chided. He drilled his fingers into your armpits some more before pulling his hands free, scribbling along the length of your rib cage. You arched your back, making a grab for his hands.
“I’d nehehehever thihihk thahaht! Come on!” You managed to latch onto his good hand and tried to push it away from your torso. Fuse smirked and wrenched his hand free, pinning your hand back above your head.
“Right, you’d rather cheat and call yourself good, ay?” He mocked, using his free hand to pinch and knead your sides. You drummed your legs against the couch, your loud giggles now riddled with the occasional snort.
“Nahahahahahaha! Whyhyhy ahahre you sohohoho mahahad about a gahahahame!?” You squeaked. Since you still had one hand free, you kept on trying to protect yourself from Fuse’s wrath, but had way less success keeping his metal hand at bay. “I dihihihdn’t knohohw yohuhuhu--yohuhuhu were so short-fused…”
You couldn’t help it; the joke was right there, and although every part of you screamed to not say it, you did it anyway. It was fun to push Fuse’s buttons, but that look he gave you spelled trouble backwards and forwards.
Walter didn’t say anything; he just took your wrists back into his metal hand and re-pinned them above your head. Then, he clawed at your belly, making you drop a sudden howl of laughter.
“NONONOHOHOHO! I’M SOHOHOHORRY!” You screamed and bucked your hips, but Walter pressed on, tickling from one side of your tummy to the other.
“Nah, keep makin’ your jokes. Shows you ain’t learned your lesson yet.” Fuse held onto your side and used his thumb to knead into the sides of your stomach. You threw your head back with laughter and thrashed along the couch.
“YEHEHEHES I HAHAHVE!” You insisted, squealing when he pinched your hips. You uselessly tugged at your wrists, but you had a higher chance of flying than you did getting your hands free. “NOHOHOHO MOHOHORE JOHOHOKES!”
But Fusey had other ideas. He stopped tickling you, giving you a chance to breathe, but he didn’t completely release you. Instead, he turned and pushed you so that your torso was hanging off the edge of the couch. You yelped, expecting to fall, but Walter wasn’t gonna let that happen to you. You were hanging upside down and your shirt rose up because of it, making it easier for Fuse to attack again.
Instead of diving straight for the kill, Fuse poked at your exposed sides, making you snicker.
“Wahahahalter!” You whined. You tried to sit up, but you were at a pretty awkward angle, and the tickling wasn’t helping. “I sahahahahid I’m sohohohrry!”
“I heard you. I just doubt that very much.” Fuse answered, drumming his fingers across your tummy to get your other side. He heard you snort again and chuckled. “I know how you like to say one thing and do something else, ay?”
You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak, only to scream again when he descended back onto your tummy. He didn’t tickle too hard; he just scratched up and down your torso, giving it the occasional pinch to make you squeal. You squirmed like crazy, and Fusey had to hold your legs a little tighter to be doubly sure you didn’t fall.
“OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY!” Were the two words you were finally able to scream after you’d fallen into hysterics. Fuse slowed the tickling down, chuckling.
“You reckon you’ve learned your lesson now? Or d’ya need another one?” He asked while slowly raking his nails above your hip bones. You shook your head again, blowing loose strands of hair out of your face.
“I’ve lehehehearned my lesson! Plehehehease!” You panted. That was good enough for Walter, so he finally stopped tickling you and pulled you back up onto the couch. You groaned and collapsed next to him, still trying to catch your breath. Fuse grinned and playfully nudged you.
“Good, glad we could sort that out.” He teased, jabbing you in your sides again. You squealed and rolled towards the other end of the couch. Walter laughed and went to do it again, but he paused when he heard some music coming from the hallway. “Did you leave the game on?”
You furrowed your brows and sat up to hear it better. “Er, no. The song should’ve ended ages ago.”
Both of you got up to investigate, but you wouldn’t arrive before Mirage finished the song he was playing. He grinned and made some decoys to stand in for his adoring fans.
“...And the crowd goes wild…ahhh…” He snickered, making his decoys disappear so he could plug in the new name on the top of the leaderboards: his! Elliott’s name always looked so good in lights, whether that be on a screen or a giant banner.
“Heh, eat your heart out, nerds.”
#apex legends#fuse apex legends#walter fitzroy#apex legends tickle fic#ticklish!reader#fuse x reader#40followerspecial#apex legends matchup#ler!fuse#lee!reader
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Barked Up The Wrong Tree
A/N: This is part two to Let Sleeping Dogs Lie . I hope you like it.
No one disturbs Ole Fusey from his nap, and he’s out to teach Octane and Rampart a lesson. But, the pranksters’ alliance falls through; instead, both Walter and Ramya tickle Octavio.
“Oho, man. That was awesome!”
Octane cheered, rounding just one more corner to make sure that he was far away from Fuse. Rampart brought up the rear, still laughing, and plopped down to the floor to catch her breath.
“You’re tellin’ me. And here I thought Salvonians were known for kickin’ asses and takin’ names. Never thought that a lil’ tickling would have him bawlin for his mum.”
Octavio chuckled. “Think that’ll go down as the funnest prank I’ve pulled yet!” He continued, sprinting into Ramya’s workshop, which was their next destination. Since he didn’t have any games scheduled for a few days, Ramya offered to spruce up his legs a bit. Octane had so many cool mod ideas that he’d love to see on his legs; rockets, grenade launchers, maybe rockets and grenade launchers.
It was even better that Ajay, who’d been scheduled for games the entire week, would be too busy to complain about what he added to his legs. He cared for his best friend deeply, but if he were being honest, she could be a real killjoy when she wanted to be. So, it felt really good that he could add some more pizazz to his babies without having to deal with her nagging. He was already yanking his left leg off when he noticed Rampart stopped in the doorway. Her brow was arched, and she had one hand on her hip.
“The best prank you pulled? I vaguely remember lendin’ you a hand…” She scoffed, heading to her workbench to gather the tools she needed. On her way over there, she snatched Octavio’s leg out of his hand. “I mean, let’s be real here, you would’ve mucked up the prank from here to Sunday if I didn’t help ya out.”
Octavio gave her an incredulous look before laughing. “Amiga, all you did was hold the feather! That’s not exactly what I’d call hard work.” He responded, preparing to pull his right leg off next. He was still riding high off of the adrenaline from pranking Fuse, so he had no issues in saying what he said next. “I guess I can see why it’d be a big deal to you, though. I know there ain’t much you do without Sheila.”
He heard Ramya drop something, most likely a wrench. His grin widened as she stared at him, dumbfounded.
“What’d you say?”
The speedster snickered. “You heard me! I’m surprised you had the time to help out at all, since I know how much su bebé (your baby) keeps you busy.” He continued confidently. He knew he was headed into dangerous territory, but so what? What was she gonna do about it? If she grabbed Sheila to teach him a lesson, it’d prove his point. “Don’t get me wrong! Sheila is awesome. But pranks are where I shine, amiga. So you better not forget that.”
Ramya growled and marched from around her workbench, taking his leg along with her. “If that ain’t the biggest crock of shit I’ve heard--only thing you’re good at is running!” She argued. She got within a couple feet from him, ready to throttle him, but then she had a better idea. “...Which ya can’t do much of now, can ya?”
“...What?”
Octane gave her a bewildered look. But, before he could ask what she was talking about, she started to back away from him. And, he noticed, she moved his limb from one hand to the other.
“Listen, mate. I don’t know what cliff ya dived off recently, but your leg here is banged up good. So, I’m just gonna hang onto it for, ya know…safe keepin’.”
Now Octavio wasn’t laughing. He quickly put his right leg back on and got up, albeit awkwardly. “Chill, Ramya. I need that!” He said, making a move to take the leg back. Rampart got out of the way, causing him to fall back down with a crash. She burst out laughing.
“Yikes, you’re quite the klutz, huh? Relax, I ain’t gonna keep it forever. Maybe just a few weeks?” Ramya grinned widely at the look on his face.
“Hell no! Give me my leg back!”
Now, Rampart wasn’t actually going to take his leg. She just wanted to keep it long enough until he offered her an apology, or until she laughed herself silly from watching him hobble around like a pirate. Ramya laughed hard enough to snort while he attempted to take his leg back. And each time, just before he could get a grip on it, Ramya would pull back and watch him tumble. Octane got tired of it and the next time he lunged, he went for her instead, which she wasn’t expecting. The modder didn’t move out of the way in time, so when his fingers jabbed into her ribs, she let out a loud scream. She dropped the leg, holding her arm against her side.
“Alright, alright, take your bloody leg back.” Ramya grumbled, rubbing where he’d poked. “I was just messin’ around.”
Octane put his leg back on and stared at her. He didn’t poke her that hard, so why’d she scream? The gears in his head turned as he poked her again, this time in her side, and she slapped his hands away.
“I said I was joking, ya idiot.”
Octavio grinned. “I heard you. I was just thinkin’ how Elliott had mentioned how ticklish you were, but I didn’t believe him.” He explained. He hurried towards the modder to close the distance. “Thought he was just talkin’ loco. But it looks like he was right, huh?”
Rampart glowered and smacked his hands away again when he went to poke some more. “I couldn’t give a toss about what that plonker said! But you better quit pokin’ me, unless your mate can get you some new hands too…”
Octane paused, looking at both of his hands. He could have metal legs and hands? Why didn’t he think of that! He’d definitely have to blow his hands off next. But, for now, he was standing in front of a ticklish Legend who tried to steal his leg. A punishment was in order!
The speedster didn’t have the patience for a buildup, so he made yet another jab at her ribs. Rampart threw a hand up to stop him, just like he expected, which allowed him to grab her wrist. He held it away from her and, before she could block him with her other hand, he pinched at her lowermost rib. Ramya screamed, her face getting redder by the second, and she swatted at his hand multiple times.
“Stohop! You prihick!” She gritted her teeth, trying not to laugh. She pushed her shoulder into his chest, wanting to push him over, but he wasn’t having it. He let go of her wrist so he could wrap both of his arms around her torso and scritch all over the length of her rib cage. The modder violently jolted and broke out into loud laughter.
“YOHOUHUHU FFF--HAHAHAHAHA!” Ramya pounded on his hands, thrashing about in his hold. “LEHEHET GOHOHOHO!”
Octavio refused and, laughing, he pulled her down onto the ground with him. “Haha, I knew it!” He cheered. She’d swatted at his hands one too many times, so he gathered up her wrists in one hand, holding them above her head. “Elliott was right; you are crazy ticklish!”
Instead of staying on her sweet spot, he jumped to her side and kneaded along it. Then, he poked at her stomach, making her squeal, before his hand finally dug into her armpit. Ramya was cackling the entire time but, when he focused on her armpit, she giggled uncontrollably. It wasn’t as bad a spot as her ribs, but it was definitely sensitive.
“I’m gohohohohnna kihihill yohohohohu!” She yelled, pulling against the speedster’s grip. “Juhust wahahait! I’ll kihihihck yohohour ahahahass wihihhth your own bloody lehehegs!”
Octane snickered and jabbed his nails into the center of her armpit, making her laugh harder. “Oh no, anything but that! Por favor!” He mocked, grinning. He took his thumbs and scratched at the hollows in circular motions. “And whatever you do, don’t sic Sheila on me! I know just how much you lean on her.”
Rampart yelled in protest as the speedster descended back into her ribs, tickling at the spaces between them. She thrashed against the ground, hollering with laughter. All of the commotion caught the attention of Fuse, who’d awoken from his nap a while ago, and was out to dole out some good ol’ Salvonian justice. He stepped into the workshop at a leisurely pace, smirking. Octavio was too invested in tickling Ramya to notice, but Ramya did. She fought against his grip, trying to warn him, but she fell into hysterics when he tickled even faster.
“SAHAHAHAHAHA! HE---HE’S---OCTAHAHAHAHAHAVIO!”
Octavio snickered and dug his thumbs into the base of her ribs, making her laughter go silent. “Not so funny anymore, is it chica? That’s what you get for—”
He abruptly stopped talking, feeling a cold hand grip his arm. He was then lifted as if he were weightless. He yelped and struggled in the hold, moving to push at the arm, and that’s when he realized who it was. His eyes snapped up to Walter’s, and the Salvonian’s smirk only broadened.
“G’day, mate. I was wonderin’ where you pups ran off to.” He said, easily scooping the speedster’s other arm within the same hand. “I hate to interrupt you kids’ fun, but I reckon we’ve got some unfinished business, ay?”
Octane immediately shook his head. He struggled to wrench his arm free out of Walter’s literal iron hold, but the explosives expert lifted him higher, so that he was dangling just above the ground. “Wait! Hold ohohohn!” He interjected, yelping when Fuse prodded at his sides. The severity of what was about to happen crashed into him, making him want to high tail it…but all his legs did was kick around in the air.
“Nohoho! Dude, come ohohohon!” Octane tried to make his case, but Walter wasn’t hearing it. “It wahahas a johohohke! Whyhy cahahan’t yohuhu tahahake a JOHOHOKE—”
Fuse scratched at the speedster’s tummy, making him scream and arch his back. He chuckled. “I can take a joke just fine! What I can’t take is havin’ you lot botherin’ me while I’m gettin’ me beauty rest!” He retorted, pinching each of his hips before he returned to his stomach. Octavio cried out and sucked in his stomach to try and escape the tickling.
“IT WAHAHAHSN’T JUHUHUHST MEHEHEHEHE!” He yelled, bucking his hips when Walter poked at his belly button. Walter smirked, wiggling his finger inside the spot some more, and he glanced at the recovering modder.
“I know, I didn’t forget about your partner in crime. She’ll get what’s comin’ to her.” He answered. He continued scratching in and around his belly button, drawing out more panicked laughter from Octavio.
Rampart, however, had other plans. Once she caught her breath, she got off the floor and marched right up to the men. “Or, you can let me at this plonker right now.” She cut in, gripping Octavio’s sides and digging her thumbs into them. “For thinkin’ he can get one over on me.”
Octavio’s eyes snapped wide open and he yelled before laughing even louder. “NONONOHOHO! DOHOHON’T TOHOHOUCH MEHEHE, RAHAHAMYA!” He demanded. He twisted his torso around in Fuse’s hold, trying to shake her hands off, but she easily kept up with him. Fusey snickered; considering what he’d witnessed before he entered the scene, he wasn’t surprised that Rampart had a bone to pick with him. But, it was still amusing to watch their alliance crumple apart.
So, much to Octane’s shock, Walter didn’t stop her. He moved his hand up higher, poking between his ribs, while Ramya found every ticklish nerve along his sides.
“Wahahahalter! Dohohohohn’t lehehehet hehehr dohohoho thihihihs!” He pleaded. He tested the man’s grip, a foolish thing to do with his metal arm, and was only answered with a smirk.
“Nah, I feel she’s justified, mate.” Fuse chuckled, swiping all of his nails down his ribcage before he pinched at each one. “Sure ain’t off the hook, but I don’t blame her for wanting a lil revenge of her own.”
“WHAHAHAT?!”
Octavio couldn’t believe what he was hearing; for starters, he didn’t act alone! But most importantly, Fuse didn’t even see what Ramya did before he got there. He opened his mouth to protest, but he let out a screaming laugh instead when the modder scribbled her fingers along his tummy.
“Besides,” Ramya grinned, spidering her nails into the sides of his stomach, where he seemed to be especially ticklish. “The whole thing was your show anyway, right?”
“NAHAHAHA! THAHAHAT’S SUHUHUHCH BULLSH--AH!”
All of a sudden, Fuse dragged him to the floor, with Rampart following immediately after. He did this for two reasons; one, to make it easier for Ramya to join in on the fun. And two, to make sure she didn’t get accidentally kicked. Octavio’s legs had been moving a mile a minute, maybe faster, and Walter knew for a fact that one blow from those could cause a serious injury. With Walter keeping Octavio’s arms pinned and Ramya taking a seat on his waist, the speedster was royally screwed. The explosives expert went back to pinching at each of his ribs, while Ramya honed in on the area just above his belly button.
“SAHAHAHAHA! SHEHE--SHEHEHE STAHAHARTED IHIHIHT!” Octane whined. He was referring to what happened before he’d tickled Ramya, but was laughing too hard to elaborate. And, he wasn’t even being tickled on his worst spot. Not yet, anyways. Ramya grinned a smug grin and wriggled a finger back into his belly button.
“Pfft, don’t get shy now, mate! You were mouthin’ off about how great this prank of yours was.” She chided. She made sure to get in deep, twisting her finger around like a screwdriver, and the speedster howled with laughter. She glanced at Fuse, still grinning. “You shoulda heard him. He said, and I quote ‘that’ll go down as the best prank I’ve pulled! Hell, maybe the best one in the Outlands!’”
“I DIHIHIHD NOHOHOHOT!”
Now she was twisting his words! Octavio’s legs drummed against the floor as he flopped against the floor. He felt Fuse getting closer to his armpits, and he felt a deep seated panic in the pit of his stomach.
“WAITWAITWAIT! POR FAHAHAVOR, WAHAHAIT!” He pleaded, his entire body tensing up. Fuse, and surprisingly Rampart, both obliged. He breathed heavily, still giggling, especially when Walter flexed his fingers just underneath where his armpits started. “Plehehease dohohn’t tickle my armpihihits. Ramya’s twisting what I said, but I prohohomise I wohohon’t dohoho it AGAHAHAIN---”
Rampart didn’t let him finish; she ducked and blew a raspberry right in the center of his stomach. Octavio shrieked, making both Ramya and Walter laugh, and Walter dug underneath his left arm anyway.
“Oh, I doubt that very much.” Fuse smirked, spidering his nails from one side of his armpit to the other. “Especially comin’ from you. You’re the very essence of trouble.”
“Sure is.” Rampart chimed in, blowing another raspberry over his belly button. Octavio’s cackles filled up the entire workshop. He writhed in Walter’s hold, and bucked his hips as Ramya kept on blowing on his stomach. But despite his struggling, he couldn’t move away from the tickles, and it really tickled.
“NOHOHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” He screeched, laughing even harder as Fuse dug deeper into his hollows. Now, he was focusing on the center of his armpits, while Ramya dug her thumbs into his hips and waist. “POHOHOHOR FAHAHAHAVOR! I WOHOHOHOHN’T DOHOHOHOHO IHIHIHT!”
“Nah, I’ll have to think it over. Your track record says otherwise.” Walter insisted. He jumped to the speedster’s right armpit, earning another squeal, and used two fingers to scritch along the length of the spot. Octavio threw his head back; his right armpit was more sensitive than his left one, and he strained to pull his arms down.
“NONONOHOHOHOHO! I SWEHEHEHEHEAR!” He pleaded, struggling with a renewed sense of energy. Fuse arched a brow; this time, he wasn’t even tickling that hard, and it seemed like Octavio wanted to pull his arm out of its socket, if it meant it went down.
“Oh, c’mon, I’m barely touchin’ ya!” Fuse scoffed, poking his uppermost rib before he returned to the armpit. Ramya looked up from what she was doing; she thought the plonker’s stomach was his worst spot, but it looked like she was missing out on the real action!
“Yeah, he’s really laughin' up a storm, ain’t he?”
That’s all Octane heard before he felt Ramya scoot up his waist, and bury her fingers into his left armpit. This next scream left him hoarse, and after that, all he could do was laugh and laugh. One hand on his armpits was bad; two were arguably unbearable.
“PLEHEHEHEHEASE! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Octavio’s pleading finally gave way to hysterics as he kicked his legs against the ground. Walter opted for light, quick scratching along his right armpit. But Ramya was jabbing and poking all over the left one, so he couldn’t get used to either sensation. The tickling went on for a good five minutes; after that, Walter decided to ease up on the kid. His laughter had gotten silent, and he didn’t wanna kill him.
“Alright, let’s give him a breather, ay?” Fuse stopped tickling him and gently nudged Ramya’s hand away. Rampart pouted; she was having a blast, but air was kind of important, and it looked like Octane needed a bunch of it.
“Fine. Can’t have people dyin’ in here anyways. It’s bad for business.” She responded, snickering. She lightly ran her nails down Octavio’s tummy a few times before climbing off of his legs. Octavio snickered and panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.
“Bohohohth of yohuhu suck…” He complained, moving to pull his arms down…only to realize that Fuse hadn’t let go. Fuse grinned and looked down at the still-pinned speedster.
“Oh, ya think so? That’s alright, cause I never said I was lettin’ you go just yet.”
It didn’t take very long for Octane to regenerate stamina, but all of that air he worked to bring in left him in one loud gasp.
“No, doOOOHN’T--”
Walter poked his side, making him yelp, and he chuckled. “Hey, I was crystal clear! I said a breather. What, you thought you’d get off that easy?”
Rampart blinked, not expecting the turn of events, but she was more than happy to continue. She plopped back down onto his legs, pressing her fingertips into his ribs, and wiggled away.
“Nohohoho guhuhuhys! I’m sohohohohorry!”
Octavio’s apology fell on deaf ears; ole Fusey was bright eyed and bushy tailed, so he wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
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