#ticklish!shadow

[wibblywobblyswitchy]

Part Of The Family || 'Sonic 3' Tickle Fic

Summary: Shadow is adapting to civilian life after decades of mistreatment and isolation. Luckily for him, his newfound family is there to show him the support and comfort he so desperately needs, albeit in rather unexpected ways.

Spoilers for ‘Sonic 3’ ahead, so read with caution!

Word Count: 3,591 words.

Things had been...weird, since the battle in space, to say the very least.

Immediately after the fight, Sonic and the others had made a beeline for the hospital, and had been relieved to find Tom awake and stable. Sure, he had some broken bones, but he was ALIVE! Maddie had practically had to pry the three off of him, happy tears pouring from their eyes as they babbled out joyful exclamations. Tom had only chuckled softly, letting out a small wince as a stab of pain shot through his ribcage.

Once they had calmed down, Sonic informed the others of what went down on the moon. His fight with Shadow, how the two had managed to find common ground, how they had banded together to save the planet. As he spoke, the blue hedgehog's smile noticeably dropped, and his tone went from excited to saddened as the realization dawned on him. Shadow wasn't with them; he had sacrificed himself for a planet that cared little for him.

At least, that's what they thought. About a month after they returned home, Ozzy had started barking madly at the attic, eyes fixated at the ceiling with ears pricked. Tom had insisted that a squirrel had probably gotten into the attic while looking for shelter, though Knuckles had been convinced that a ghost was responsible. In a way, he wasn't wrong. When they'd went to investigate, instead of finding a disgruntled forest critter, they had found Shadow, a bit worse for wear but very much alive.

The black hedgehog was a mess, covered in scratches and bruises, his fur dirty and disheveled. While he had clearly recovered some of the past month, he was far from fully healed. They'd all had questions, of course. How was he still alive? Where had he been for the past month or so? Why was he there now? How did he know where they LIVED?

In the end, the answers had been simple enough. Shadow was even stronger than they'd first thought and managed to survive the explosion, albeit just barely. After crash landing somewhere in London, he'd found a darkened corner of the city to rest and tend to his injuries (he'd rather die than seek out G.U.N for help, in his own words). However, over time it became clear that he needed somewhere safer to stay, and he didn't know where else to go. He hadn't even meant for them to know he was there; he had planned on hiding out in the attic, sneaking down for food every so often and leaving as soon as he was back on his feet.

As for how he knew where they lived; the internet. He may have been an "old man," as Sonic put it, but he wasn't stupid.

Well, if Shadow had thought they were just going to leave him in the dark, musty attic, he'd been sorely mistaken. Maddie had immediately ushered him downstairs, fussing over how thin he was, the dislocations he clearly needed reset, etc. Sonic and Tails had been right behind her, babbling away about all the 21st century things they wanted to introduce him to. Meanwhile, Knuckles and Tom had lingered behind, still wary of their unexpected arrival (understandably so; Shadow could hardly blame them).

The attention was a bit overwhelming, and Shadow didn't say much for the first few weeks of his stay. He would muster up a quiet thank you when Maddie showed him kindness, and had managed to corner Tom in order to give him an apology, but otherwise he stuck to himself. Attempts to rope him into races or movie nights ranged from entirely unsuccessful to Shadow participating with mild interest, but he was clearly still apprehensive about lowering his guard, even around those actively trying to help him. His new companions had shown him a shocking amount of patience, a courtesy the black hedgehog was grateful for. He should have known such a courtesy would only last so long, especially when Sonic was involved.

...

Shadow flinched at the sound of a loud crash from somewhere in the living room, eyes narrowed and ears pricked. He gripped the kitchen counter, sandwich forgotten as he turned towards the noise on high alert. A flash of blue whizzed past him, a pair of hands suddenly gripping his shoulders from behind. The only thing that kept him from activating his chaos energy immediately was the accompanying sound of Sonic's laughter, high-pitched and slightly panicked in tone. "Shahahadow, you've gotta help me! They've gone nuts!"

The black hedgehog opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Knuckles came barreling into the kitchen, Tails close behind him. The two were beaming from ear to ear, mischievous expressions plastered to their faces. Sonic let out a small yelp, giggles increasing and his grip on Shadow tightening as he hid behind him.

"What is going on?" Shadow questioned, tone tinged with mild annoyance. "Let go of me." He attempted to shrug Sonic off of him, with little success.

"They're trying to torture me, that's what! Keep them FAR away from me!" The blue hedgehog replied, pointing an accusatory finger at his pursuers.

Tails chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other's dramatics. "He's just trying to escape his tickle penalty for losing Go Fish." The fox explained. "Though I don't know why he's making such a fuss, he LOVES it when we tickle him.. I wouldn't be surprised if he lost on purpose."

Though Shadow couldn't see it, Sonic's cheeks immediately turned bright red. "Lies and slahahander!" His voice cracked slightly, a nervous titter escaping at the last word. "Besides, I didn't lose, they CHEATED! That exempts me from any penalties!"

"HE lies! Hand him over so we may punish him for his transgression!" Knuckles butted in, grinning deviously as he cracked his knuckles.

Shadow's eyes flicked between the three, eyebrows raised as he scoffed. "Tickling? Isn't that a bit childish?" He asked flatly. The word DID ignite something in him; distant memories of laughter and play wrestling with Maria. His stomach did a little flip as he pushed the memories down.

"Uh, yeah, and totally FUN!" Sonic replied, resting his chin on Shadow's shoulder. The other hedgehog quickly moved away, causing Sonic to stumble forward a couple of steps. Knuckles seized his opportunity, immediately lunging for his prey with a playful growl. Sonic squealed (in a totally not girlish manner, thank you), latching back onto Shadow and flinging the other in front of him like a shield.

In that moment, two things happened. The first? Knuckles' hands frantically grabbed for something to prevent his fall; that thing just so happened to be Shadow's sides. The second? Shadow GIGGLED.

Everyone froze, eyes wide with shock. Sonic, Knuckles and Tails' mouths hung open, their gazes fixed on Shadow, who stood as still as a statue, hands latched onto Knuckles' wrists. Slowly, a light pink tinge came to his cheeks, his left ear twitching as it dawned on him exactly what he'd just done.

Sonic was the first one to break the silence. "Woohohohoa, what was THAT?" The blue hedgehog crowed, positively beaming with amusement. "Don't tell me the big, bad ultimate lifeform is TICKLISH!" He sang.

Shadow shoved Knuckles' hands off of him, crossing his arms over his torso with a huff. "I'm not ticklish. He just caught me off guard, that's all. I was SURPRISED." The explanation was weak, and they all knew it.

"Funny, I've heard of people doing a lot of things when they're surprised, but never GIGGLING." Tails was barely holding back giggles of his own.

Sonic slung an arm over Shadow's shoulder, tugging him close before he had the chance to pull away again. "Come on, don't be embarrased! So you're a little ticklish? Literally EVERYONE in this room is! You should SEE Knuckles when I get him; the dude sounds like-"

Knuckles cleared his throat, eyes narrowing. "Watch your words, hedgehog, or need I remind you how sensitive your little tummy is?"

Shadow was at a loss for words. The sudden exposure of his own sensitivity, how casually the others were talking about theirs, it was all surprisingly flustering. He felt his muscles tensing under Sonic's touch, anticipating a tickle attack at any second, which the other seemed to have taken notice of. "Hey man, don't worry! If you don't like that sort of thing, we won't tickle you! Scout's honor!"

Tails nodded, offering Shadow a gentle smile. "Yeah, tickling's no fun if everyone isn't enjoying themselves. If you want your space, we'll respect that." Knuckles hummed in agreement.

"Though I will say, you'd really be missing out. I'm the best tickle monster in Green Hills!" Sonic bragged, grinning wolfishly as he wiggled a few fingers close to Shadow's neck. The other instinctively scrunched his shoulders, expression a mixture of uncertainty and embarrassment. What the hell was he supposed to say to all that? Of course he didn't want to be tickled...did he?

"Somehow I highly doubt that. By the way you were begging me to save you earlier, I'd be more willing to believe one of those two hold that title." The words had left Shadow's lips before he knew what he was doing, tinged with a dose of sass that DEFINATELY sounded like provocation. What was he doing? He needed to take it back, to get himself out of this situation before-

Sonic's eyes went wide, an amused laugh ripping from his throat. "Ohohooo, so that's how it is, huh? If you wanted me to wreck you that badly, you could have just asked! Well, maybe that little comment WAS your way of asking, but you know what I mean! Boys, grab him!"

Knuckles and Tails shared a look, nodding before lunging towards Shadow, tackling the hedgehog to the kitchen floor with a loud THUD. Shadow bit back a yelp, struggling as the three made quick work of pinning him down. He could use his chaos energy to teleport away, but he needed to concentrate to do that, and there was no way he could do that with a flood of giddy panic racing through him (at least, that's what he told himself).

"What are you doing? Get off of me!" Shadow growled, trying to sound stern, but his words had no effect on the grinning mammals looking down at him. Knuckles took hold of Shadow's wrists, tugging them above his head while Tails flopped across his legs.

"No can do, Gerard Way! You messed with the hedgehog, now you get the quills!" Sonic hovered his hands over his captive, fingers wiggling tauntingly as he hummed. "But where should I start? I don't know WHICH spot to pick! Knuckles, any suggestions?"

The red echidna smirked down at the squirming hedgehog. “The Lord of the Donuts said you have twenty-four ribs; let’s see if HE does to!”

“What a great idea!” Sonic poised his hands over Shadow’s outstretched ribs. “We DO look alike, so let’s see if the similarities extend to other areas, shall we?”

Shadow felt his breath hitch, crimson eyes locked onto the wiggling fingers above him. “Don’t you dare!” He hissed.

“Oh, I do more than dare, my friend! I DO!” Sonic didn’t wait another moment, hands lunging downwards. His fingers began to dance across Shadow’s ribs, almost like he was playing a piano, before starting to scratch between each one. “Let’s see here, one…two…three…”

Shadow bit down on his lower lip, shaking with barely contained snickers. He was a tough hedgehog, and could handle a lot, but his resistance to tickling was…lacking. It was hardly his fault; he hadn’t had the most affectionate upbringing, even with Maria around. Tickles were few and far between.

In other words, he was screwed.

“Aaaw, don’t hold it in, Shadow! Laughter is good for you!” Tails giggled from his perch on Shadow’s legs.

“Four…five…six…Shadow, hold still, man! You’re going to make me lose count, then I’ll have to start all over!” Sonic chided playfully, continuing his slow torment of Shadow’s ribcage.

“W-Wohohould you two just shut up?” Shadow forced out, cursing the small chuckle that managed to slip out.

“Um, RUDE! Knuckles, mind helping me teach this guy some manners?” Sonic shot the red echidna a devious grin, who returned it in kind.

“It would be my pleasure!” Knuckles moved Shadow’s wrists into one hand, leaving his other one free to join in the torment. Without a second of hesitation, it dove for one of Shadow’s armpits, digging into the exposed hollow as Sonic gently scribbled down to Shadow’s sides.

That did it. Shadow felt his torso jerk, a startled gasp tumbling out, followed immediately by a wave of breathy giggles. “N-Nohohohohooo, cut it ohohohohout!” He ordered, though the effect was ruined by the little grin now decorating his features.

“Aaaaw, there’s that cute wittle laugh! I knew you had it in you!” Sonic cheered, fingers scratching and dancing along the other hedgehog’s sides. “Isn’t he adorable, Tails?”

“Yeah, he IS pretty cute!” Tails replied, giving Shadow’s knees a few experimental squeezes, earning a soft snort and a fresh barrage of snickers.

Shadow felt his cheeks flush, his head shaking in denial. “I’m nohohohohohot cuhuhuhute! S-Stahahahahahap!” He snickered. He could feel his tail twitching beneath him, trying to wag while pressed against the floor; thank GOD he was lying on his back. Knuckles switched to his other armpit, making him jump as a startled “EHEHE” ripped out of him.

Knuckles barked out a laugh of his own. "Ha, he sounds like Tom when you get his ears!" The warrior drilled a thumb into Shadow's armpit ruthlessly, delighting in the way the hedgehog jolted as if electrocuted. "Coochie coochie cooooooo!" He sang.

"So Shadow, are you ready to admit I'm the best tickle monster around?" Sonic asked, smirking down at Shadow mischievously. "Or do we need to get a little meaner?"

"I'm nohohohohot admitting shit to yohohohohoooou!" Shadow retorted, trying (and failing) to muster up a half-hearted glare.

Sonic whistled, shaking his head in disapproval. "Such language! Looks like we'd better bring out the big guns, boys. Knuckles, Tails, get a good grip on him. Time to use the old Wachowski Special!" The two nodded in agreement, ceasing their own tickling to get firmer holds on Shadow's arms and legs.

Shadow panted, still squirming as he slowly recovered from the ticklish attacks. "Thehehehe what now?" He questioned, eyebrows raised, heart fluttering in his chest. Whatever the "Wachowski Special" was, he knew it wouldn't be good for him.

"Weeell, whenever someone else joins the family, Tom and Maddie have this little thing they like to do. Since they aren't here right now, I guess that means WE get to be the ones to officially welcome you into the family! Right, Sonic?" Tails explained.

"Right you are, little buddy!"

Shadow felt his stomach do a flip, his head swimming at the implications of the fox's statement. Welcome him to the family? They considered him family, after all that he had done? He didn't deserve-

Sonic cracked his knuckles, posing a clawed hand over Shadow's stomach. "Tickle claw time!" He sang, hand diving down and digging into the other hedgehog's outstretched abdomen. As if that wasn't bad enough, he started to VIBRATE his fingers into the sensitive muscle, cooing playful teases all the while. "Kitchie kitchie kitchie kitchie koooooo, tough guy! Come on, let's see how hard you can laugh, huh? Coooome on, you know you wanna!"

Poor Shadow didn't stand a chance. "S-SOHOHONIC, NEHEHEHEHOHOHOHOHO!" The black hedgehog busted into a fresh wave of laughter, shaking his head feverishly as his ears pressed back with embarrassment. His legs gave a little kick, trying to knock Tails off balance, and he tugged desperately to free his arms from Knuckles' grip. "NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!"

Knuckles snorted with amusement. "His tummy is worse than YOURS!" He smirked, shooting Sonic a look.

The blue hedgehog blushed, glaring at Knuckles as his tickling picked up speed, sending Shadow into another bout of cackles. "We're focused on him right now, not me." He was borderline pouting, though a shy smile tugged at his lips.

The kitchen was filled with the sound of Shadow's frantic laughter, a noise that none of them, especially Sonic, would ever forget. For a moment, Sonic was too caught up in the joy of seeing his rival, his friend, so vulnerable to care about anything else. But then, as Shadow's laughter hit a crescendo, something inside Sonic made him pause. The teasing, the playful banter, it was all just...fun. Shadow, despite his stoic nature, was one of them now. And in that moment, Sonic realized just how much it meant to have him here.

But that didn’t stop him from continuing his ticklish onslaught.

"Not the tummy, huh? Guess we'll just have to see what else is good!" Sonic grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos of the moment, his fingers moving down to scribble just above Shadow's hips.

Shadow let out a breathy squeal (though he would never admit to making such a noise). "OHOHOHOHO, WOHOHOHULD YOU JUHUHUST SHUHUHUHUT UP?" He was beyond embarrassed from the playful teasing, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to mind it all that much. It brought back feelings he never thought he would feel again; feelings of acceptance, comfort, familial bonding. Feelings he hadn't thought about in decades, more or less experienced.

Tails giggled at the sight of the tough hedgehog writhing beneath their tickling. "He really is ticklish everywhere!" He exclaimed, the joy of discovery lighting up his voice.

Shadow's face was bright crimson now, his usual stern demeanor replaced with something almost childlike. His red eyes sparkled with tears of mirth, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. "S-STAHAHAHAP! I-I CAHAHAHAHAN'T...EHEHEHEHEHEHE!" He bucked his hips, trying to break free from the combined grip of Tails and Knuckles, but Sonic’s assault on his stomach and hips kept him pinned down in a state of helpless hilarity.

���You’re giving up already?” Sonic teased, leaning in close. “I thought you were the ultimate lifeform! You can take anything, right?”

But this was something Shadow couldn’t take. This was uncharted territory, more or less. And despite his pride, there was no denying that the combination of Sonic’s fingers and verbal teasing was breaking him down. His breath caught in between chuckles and gasps. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!"

Tails gave Sonic a nudge. "Looks like he's getting tired, might want to show some mercy before you break him." He chuckled.

"The fox is correct, his face is redder than my fur." Knuckles added in agreement.

Sonic gave Shadow a look, searching his features for a moment. Finally, as though some sort of unspoken signal had passed through them, Sonic slowed his tickling, his fingers still lingering lightly on Shadow's stomach. He watched as Shadow gasped for air, his body still twitching from the residual sensation. Sonic gave him a sly smirk. “You’re a tough nut to crack! Not everyone can hold out so well against ME!" He HAD to sneak in one more gloat, just for fun.

Shadow blinked up at him, trying to gather himself, his mind still hazy from the laughter. “You’re insufferable.” He managed to mutter, his voice hoarse, though the wobbly grin still plastered to his face ruined any attempts of sounding even vaguely serious.

Knuckles let out a hearty laugh, loosening his grip. "Don't worry, my friend. Sonic does this to everyone. You’re just the latest victim!"

"And definitely not the last!" Sonic snickered.

Tails slid off of Shadow’s legs, but not before giving his friend a quick pat on the knee. "We were just making sure you feel at home, Shadow. I hope you won't hold it against us."

Shadow let out a long breath and finally attempted to sit up, his cheeks still a shade of pink he rarely showed. He gave Sonic one last glare, though it was weaker than it should’ve been. “You’ve had your fun, but don’t think for a second that this changes anything.”

Sonic winked, his grin still wide. “Of course it doesn’t, Shadow! But I gotta say, you do laugh pretty cute.” The black hedgehog's blush deepened, and he looked away, muttering something inaudible under his breath. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Shadow's gaze narrowed, his grin taking on a more devilish nature. "I said I'll give you three a ten second head start before I start dishing out my revenge." His voice came out in a low, shockingly playful growl. "One..."

Sonic, Knuckles and Tails' eyes all widened in shock, taken aback by Shadow's unexpected declaration. Sonic was the first to react, whizzing past his companions as a nervous laugh erupted from his throat. "Every hedgehog for himself!" His words snapped the other two out of their shock, and moments later, Tails and Knuckles were booking it after him.

"Sonic, wait for us!"

"It is hardly honorable to abandon one's comrades in battle!"

Shadow watched as his prey made their futile attempts at escape; best to give them a small taste of hope. he couldn't help but chuckle, the sound holding a surprising hint of affection as he got to his feet. His lungs still ached, unused to so much exertion, but he couldn't say the feeling was all bad. He was part of a...family. These people, whom he once viewed with such contempt, had accepted him with open arms, even after all that had happened. Something warm welled inside of Shadow as he felt his chaos energy activating, ready to aid in his pursuit.

"Ten; here I come."

[fluffomatic]

Ticklish shadow monster?? Big scary man ticklish? Evil man ticklish? Yes.

(My art don't repost but please reblog)

[amazingmsme]

So What’s the Big Deal?

AN: this is for that one anon a while back that was asking for more wwdits fics, the nuzzling prompt was perfect for namdermo fluff! Hope y’all enjoy, here’s day 8!

Guillermo thought that maybe, just once, it might be different. His... he was hesitant to use the word friends right now, so let's just say his roommates had been fairly reasonable with him lately, especially in comparison to his early years as a familiar. Nandor wasn't completely distant anymore, and he occasionally showed some semblance of affection. Colin Robinson didn't always drain his energy, and even Lazlo and Nadja started to use his real name!

... Most of the time. But Gizmo wasn't the worst, as far as nicknames were concerned.

He let out a deep sigh. Did Gizmo even qualify as a nickname? That sort of thing had always seemed like a fun in joke, where your friends gave you a cooler name than your own because they liked you, or it fits your personality better. They called him Gizmo because they couldn't bother to learn his real name for the longest time.

Most of the time he was the butler, the babysitter, the maid, but sometimes, they really made him feel like their pet.

Lazlo wouldn't stop fucking whistling at him. He had just told him he was busy, and now he was determined to make him drop his current task just to make him start a new one.

"Oh my god, what?" he cried out in frustration.

"Oh good, those ears of yours do work."

"Did you need something Lazlo?" It was best to cut to the chase with this lot.

"I do indeed! You see, a very large, very dead rat appears to have crawled inside the engine of my automobile, and you get to fish it out!" he finished with a smile, poking Guillermo's arm for emphasis.

"Ew, no! I'm busy, Nandor told me to have this done by the time he gets back. And besides, I have an order I need to go pick up."

"Come on Gizmo, it'll only take a second!" Lazlo insisted.

"I said no!"

"That's the spirit! Follow me!" He completely ignored Guillermo's protests and drug him away by the wrist, leading him to the garage.

~~~

It wasn't a rat, and it definitely wasn't dead. The possum had sprung to life as soon as Guillermo tried to lift it by its tail. It hissed and thrashed in his grip, scratching all the way up his arm, slicing through the thin rubber gloves he was wearing. He yelled out in pain and dropped the creature straight back into the engine. It flopped around on the inner mechanics before launching itself straight at Guillermo.

Lucky, he was able to catch it mid air just before it could latch onto his face and tear him to shreds. It still reached out for him, hissing and snarling in his face and lunging against his grasp.

Lazlo did nothing but watch as he wrangled the possum into a trash can and carry it outside. Okay, he held the door open for him, but he literally did nothing to actually help.

He didn't even say thank you!

Guillermo tried to calm himself down as he walked to the nearby bakery. The poor cashier gave him a concerned look when he walked in covered in bloody scratches.

"Possum," he explained bluntly and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah. Well, I hope this makes up for it!" she chirped in her customer service voice. He smiled politely.

"You and me both." He grabbed his bag and stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

“Thank you, have a nice day!"

"Thanks, you too."

"And happy birthday!"

Guillermo paused with his hand on the door. That was the first time he'd heard that today.

"Thank you." He quickly rushed out before he burst into tears from a perfectly normal interaction. He didn't expect those words to hit him so hard, but hey, it's been a rough day.

He was relieved when he got home. He wanted nothing more than to rush off to his room before any of the vampires saw him and demanded his attention. Thankfully, no one seemed to be awake yet. What the hell, it was his birthday, a little pizza wouldn't hurt. It was still a few hours before sunset, so the delivery guy should be fine.

He placed his order and began the arduous task of deciding what to watch. He browsed through the downloaded movies on his laptop, pausing when he came across Sixteen Candles. How fitting...

He always did like that movie. And it at least felt festive for the occasion.

He clicked play and nestled into a hoard of blankets and pillows, keeping an eye out for his delivery.

He was halfway back to his room, pizza box in hand when he ran into Nandor, still in his sleeping robes.

"Guillermo, there you are!"

He was so close to the freedom of his room.

"Hello Master."

"I heard about what happened with the giant rat," Nandor began in his own form of apology.

"It was a possum."

"Same thing. Are you okay?" he asked, tilting his head as he took a step forward.

"Yeah, I just finished cleaning the scratches." Guillermo tried to step around him. "But I'm actually watching a movie right now, so..." he trailed off, excusing himself.

"Really? What's it about?" Nandor asked, deciding to follow him to his room. Well, if he really wanted to know...

"This girl's whole family forgets her 16th birthday, which is, like, a big deal for humans, all because her older sister's getting married the next day. But hey, at least they had a good excuse." His tone was a little harsher than necessary, and he made his annoyance clear when Nandor invited himself into his room.

"Oh please, I'm sure someone remembered," he said flippantly. Guillermo barked out a laugh.

"That's rich, coming from you."

Nandor's brows knit together in concern. "Guillermo, what's wrong?"

"You really don't know what day it is, do you?" he asked, hanging on to the last bit of hope.

"... Tuesday?"

"It's my birthday!" Guillermo didn’t like how long it was taking him to respond.

"So, like, what's the big deal?" God, he hated just how clueless Nandor could be.

"Get out," he said calmly, pointing at the door.

"Wait-" Nandor called out, and Guillermo looked at him expectantly. "Is it really your birthday?" he asked sheepishly.

He nodded, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, it is. But I know you guys don't really care about that sort of thing, so it's fine." He turned away, grabbing a slice of pizza to indicate the discussion was over.

So why was he still standing there?

"Guillermo... Are you mad at me?" Of course that’s all he cared about. And he really didn't want to deal with this right now.

"No Master, I'm just tired. So can I please just watch my movie?"

Nandor didn't know what to think. Sure, Guillermo said he wasn't angry, but his whole demeanor said otherwise. He was hesitant to leave if he upset him.

"Of course! You know, I too enjoy a good moving picture," Nandor wandered closer to the bed, peering down at the screen. Guillermo sighed.

"Do you want to watch it?"

"Thank you, I'd love to!" Nandor exclaimed and immediately flopped down next to Guillermo, taking up a fair amount of space on the bed. He adjusted himself until he was comfortable before resting his chin on his shoulder to see the screen better.

Well, maybe this day wasn't the worst.

He hadn't been very far into the movie, so he played it from the beginning for Nandor's sake. This almost felt... nice. Normal. But in the back of his mind, he knew Nandor was only doing this because he felt guilty.

The vampire shifted in his seat, hugging him closer and nuzzling into his neck slightly. Guillermo tried to scrunch his neck, lips twitching into a smile. Nandor's beard was scratching against a particularly sensitive spot right behind his ear. Finally, it grew to be too much,  and Guillermo had to shove him away.

"Stohop! That really tickles!"

The silence that followed sent a chill up Guillermo's spine.

"I'm sorry, it really what?" he asked deviously, flashing his fangs with an evil grin. Before his familiar could answer properly, he buried his face in his neck, drawing out a shrill squeal instead.

"Nohohothihing! Just forget ihihit!" he cried frantically, desperately clawing at Nandor's arms wrapped around him. That rough beard returned to the soft skin of his neck, and a hand flew up to hide his blushing face. He wasn't even facing him, but he felt he needed to hide.

"Nooo, I don't think sooo!" he cooed directly in Guillermo's ear; the hot breath and rough stubble sent goosebumps across his whole body. He was downright mortified when he felt fangs trace and nibble just below his jaw, and he immediately snorted.

"Nohoho, plehehease!" he whined as Nandor wrestled his arms down to his sides, leaving him utterly defenseless. He began nuzzling against the nape of his neck and behind his ears, growling and nipping just to hear the frantic jump in laughter each time.

"What an adorable weakness for you to have! You better hope Nadja and Lazlo don't find out about this, they love themselves a helpless, ticklish neck," he taunted, and Guillermo could practically hear his grin.

Fuck. "Dohohon't you dahare tehehell them!" he tried to sound threatening, but it wasn't coming across as planned.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on sharing," he set his worries at ease, but he honestly didn't know if that would be worse.

"Nahahandor! Just lehehet mehe gohohoho!"

"It's funny, hundreds of men said the exact same thing, and it never saved them. Then again, they weren't laughing like you are."

"Just kihihill mehehehe!" he yelled dramatically, and Nandor couldn't help but chuckle along.

"On your birthday? I couldn't! But you might wish you were dead by the time I'm through with you!" he threatened.

"M-mahaster, plehehease!" Guillermo could only squeal and thrash as he was tickled from behind. His pleading went ignored, and Nandor nuzzled deeper against his neck, causing him to let out an adorable gasp. His nose scrunched and he snickered and shook his head back and forth.  The not quite so unbearable torture persisted.

He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He couldn't believe Nandor actually felt bad for forgetting his birthday, and was trying to cheer him up. He could deny it all he wants, but Guillermo knows that's why he's really doing this. Then again, his master loves having any kind of power over someone, so he'll take that with a grain of salt. But he was being gentle with him; he was intentionally being playful. In his fuzzy, giggly mindset, that had to mean something.

And then curious, probing hands slipped under his sweater, and all those nice thoughts flew out the window because now Nandor was kneading his hips and belly. He barked out a surprised laugh, hands flapping by his sides where they were pinned. He managed to slip an arm free, weakly tugging at the invading hands.

"Uh oh, we can't have that," Nandor muttered as he pinned his arm above his head. Guillermo shook his head frantically as nervous giggles spilled past his lips.

"Nohoho! Nahandor, plehehease! It tickles!" he begged, and he could feel the smile pressed against his neck stretch wider.

"Oh my sweet Guillermo, the real tickling hasn't even started yet," he taunted, relishing in the choked yelp that caught itself in his victim's throat.

He didn't have time to question what that meant before he was screaming in laughter. Nandor hugged him closer as one hand dug in his exposed pit while he blew a relentless onslaught of raspberries on his neck.

This was shaping up to be a long night.

[duckymcdoorknob]

𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓪𝔂 3: 𝓒𝓾𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼

Miya my son my baby my child

This made me so soft oh my god I need me a shadow so bad 😭😭

Tags: @giggly-squiggily @chrimsss (THANK YOU FOR THE INSPIRSTION)

—This do have tickles below the cut ngl—

Miya had to admit, hanging out with his friends was his favorite part of the week. The meetings were never planned, more-so just an impromptu event that took place. Today’s particular celebration was about Langa’s slow-rising report card grade! So, as they usually do, they gathered at Joe and Cherry’s place and celebrated till the cows came home.

The hustle and bustle of the celebration was immaculate, and poor Miya was positively exhausted.

At least, he should have been.

Instead, the poor kid was staring bug-eyed at the ceiling from his position on the couch.

He tossed and turned, overstimulated by the noises in the (should be quiet) room. Reki was snoring rather raucously, Cherry and Joe were engrossed in a gentle conversation, which didn’t much bother him, but it still added to the sound; not to mention the damned ceiling fan that squeaked every six seconds— oh yes, he counted.

The boy sighed and rubbed his burning eyes, subsequently covering his ears with his pillow and turning over on his side. His whole body felt ungodly heavy, and it almost hurt to breathe. He needed to sleep now.

Miya grimaced in exasperation, ready to make a pleaded announcement, until he felt a gentle brush of a hand along his forehead.

The young skater opened his bleary eyes and was met by the patient smile of Hiromi. The orange-haired male only mouthed something to him, since the boy was too tired to comprehend the noise that emitted. Whatever Hiromi offered was probably better than being where he was now, so he nodded, oblivious to whatever was said.

Hiromi wordlessly scooped the exhausted boy into his arms, letting his little head rest atop his shoulder. Miya wasn’t sure what the tall man had said, but he felt the rumble of speech beneath his torso. Soon enough, Shadow was leading them both down a secluded hallway.

When Miya saw the spare bedroom, he swore he could’ve cried in relief. He did sigh heavily, however, when he was carefully laid flat on his stomach. Hiromi exhaled fondly and sat next to the young skateboarder, gently tracing shapes up and down his back.

Miya’s shoulders gently heaved as breathy giggles filled the room. As the orange-haired male’s fingers neared the boy’s sides and neck, he would flinch a little.

“Everything okay, little buddy?” A whispered check-in filled the room.

“Y-Yehehes. Tihihihickles.” Miya hummed, unmoving.

Shadow’s lips screwed into a pouty smile as his brows furrowed. ‘So precious…’ he thought. He gently raked his blunt nails up and down Miya’s back, scribbling little patterns into it.

“S-Shahahadow—ehehehe— tihihihickles.” Miya’s giggles grew in volume, but no attempt to block the ticklish feeling was made.

“Shhhh, just relax; I know you’re exhausted.“ Hiromi cooed in a whispered reply, letting his fingers drag up to Miya’s neck.

The boy squealed and shrugged his shoulders. Hiromi chuckled a bit and stopped what he was doing, opting to lay down on the bed himself.

A sudden, gentle weight was pressed against his chest. The scent of strawberries filled his nostrils as black hairs tickled his nose. Hiromi opened his eyes to see that Miya had settled down atop of his torso, and had laid his head over the bulky skater’s heart. “Keep going… please?”

Hiromi smiled with a pout once more, continuing to trace the boy’s back and causing little giggles to slip out.

“Thahahanks.” The little guy was curling in on himself occasionally, causing the larger skater to stop every so often. “Nohohoho, ihihihits okahahahay. Feheheels gohohohood.”

Hiromi cradled the boy’s head and drew gentle circles on his back, hoping to gently lull the boy to sleep.

Shadow got his wish after ten minutes, for little Miya fell asleep silently with a big smile on his face.

🎃————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎————🎃

[tickletails]

Someone asked for lee macaque

[nottheweirdest]

Shadow the Hedgehog is ticklish and giggles like a little girl if you poke him in the side

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Playing a game with Sukuna

“Sukuna..” You call out, the old wood floor creaking under your every step. Walking through the house felt like a different realm. Sukuna’s realm.

The air is thick with an oppressive silence. The beast nowhere to be seen in the total darkness. The unsettling creaks of heavy footsteps run through the house. You can sense him, but you can’t see him.

“Sukuna… this isn’t funny anymore,” You call out again, your voice echoes in the old house.

Stomp

Each step sounds like a warning. You were about to be caught.

The corridor seems to grow narrower as your mind begins to spiral. The walls begin to feel like they’re closing in, as a chill runs down your spine. You feel those eyes on you. Tracking your every movement as you hastily make your way back to the room where the “game” started. Where he should’ve been. Where he should be.

You quickly open the door and like you presumed. He wasn’t there.

You hurriedly try to find the restraints he was in. Discarded on the floor you pick them up. Your face contorts to the image of disgust when you realize there’s slobber all over them.

“What an animal, he bit thru them…” You mumble under your breath, throwing the rope back on the floor.

You decide to head back out the room. Once again feeling the presence of unseen eyes watching you, just waiting to strike.

Stomp

Sharp fingernails run up your back, digging into your skin, a mix of pain and thrill take over your body. Red eyes glowing with a sinister light, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. He finally got you.

Sukuna is like an apex predator. He liked to work for his prey. He loved lurking in the shadows of the house, his eyes filled with a malevolent intensity that always made you freeze. Not in fear but with desire. There’s no sane explanation why you both enjoyed this, not that you'd ever admit it to him. Maybe it's the way his fangs glistened in hunger for you, or how every muscle on his body ripples with power and precision, or his aura dominating every environment.

You know he would never actually hurt you, and if he did it wouldn’t last very long…

“I told you to run…” he questions with a low, menacing growl as he appears behind you. Three large arms capture you, the fourth wrapping around your neck. “Those pretty legs don’t take you far…” He mumbles, lips pressed right to your ear.

“I wasn’t trying to run..” He loosens the grip on your neck as you speak, pressing eager kisses to your neck and jawline. “I was trying to find you.”

“Were you now?” a menacing grin spreads across his face, one of his vast hands trails down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your shorts. You close your eyes at the ticklish feeling.

“That scent…” he bites into your neck. “Your arousal smells divine,” He grunts, his nails trace your entrance.

He slides one finger in, focusing on the small bundle of nerves that he knows makes you crumble under his touch. Still using two hands to hold your body up, he begins rubbing it in small circles, spreading your slick all through your folds. An amused smile paints his face, as he finally enters a digit into you.

Long and thick fingers pump deep inside you. Fingers that are no match for the human body but, here you were taking them so well. Just for him. He plunges his fingers deeper, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside you. He stares at the beautiful faces you make as you take him. Wishing he could freeze them forever. Sukuna never thought he could derive such pleasure from pleasuring someone else but here was. With his sweet mortal that he swears he doesn’t care about.

“I can feel you tightening around my fingers,” he chuckles darkly, his red eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure. “Make more of those pathetic noises,” he commands you, digging his nails deeper into your hot skin.

The pleasure is almost unbearable, tears start to form in your eyes, threatening to fall down your red cheeks. Sukuna notices the tears and you can almost see the satisfaction on his face. He finds pleasure in making you cry, and you knew this. Feeling his cocks get hard behind you, poking into your back which results in you arching against his body.

His eyes darken with desire, eager for your orgasm. He feels you clench his fingers tighter. “Close are you now?” he teases, picking up his pace. Moving faster, harder, and deeper inside you. His thumb grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. “Fall apart for me, I got you.”

And you do. Finally reaching your orgasm, he holds your body up and you let it wash over you. He continues rubbing your clit, allowing you to enjoy the full effect of it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. You watch him lick his fingers clean of your essence as you try to catch your breath. He finally removes his arms from around you slowly, ready to catch you if you stumble.

“Go hide again…”

[hungharrington]

i feel it coming, babe

technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it. 

A smidge. A pinch. 

It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like… 

Like there was never anything wrong with you.

Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers. 

Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.

That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again. 

But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses. 

When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve. 

It means kisses all the time. 

On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa. 

He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it. 

And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.

One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft �� sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly. 

He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.

Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk. 

For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it. 

Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them. 

They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down. 

Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside. 

You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.

He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.

“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?” 

Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you. 

“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear. 

“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?” 

Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what  kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” 

His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.

“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling. 

He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern. 

“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?” 

Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.” 

You gasp dramatically. 

Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.” 

His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”

You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.” 

Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.

“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before. 

And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.

His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.

All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound. 

“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?” 

Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus. 

Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea. 

“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.” 

Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.

It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.

Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way. 

His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water. 

“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“ 

He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso. 

“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek. 

Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways. 

“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.” 

He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click. 

Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water. 

The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty. 

Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium. 

You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot. 

You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail.  A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself. 

It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into. 

On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and— 

Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through. 

You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts. 

He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention. 

“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?” 

He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.” 

Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.

“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?” 

This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover. 

For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise. 

You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting. 

“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves. 

Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes. 

He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster. 

“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper. 

The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.

“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy. 

Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants. 

You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.

Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with. 

“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“ 

“I was not—“  

“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.” 

You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely. 

Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.   

“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.” 

The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise. 

“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely. 

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” 

“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,” 

He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.” 

“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face. 

“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.” 

You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is. 

It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once. 

“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”

You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.” 

Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it. 

“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows. 

The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS. 

You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.

You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says— 

“Did you use my body wash?” 

You freeze. 

“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended. 

Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words. 

“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants. 

It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression. 

Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly. 

“Are you—“ 

“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”  

It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations. 

A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms. 

And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.

“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.” 

Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!

A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath. 

“What is it about the body wash?” 

Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red. 

“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…” 

Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.” 

Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.

“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…” 

You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.

Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband. 

“Maybe, I can be the remedy.” 

A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours. 

“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.” 

“I’m aware how it works, Steve.” 

“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.” 

He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation. 

Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband. 

This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand. 

Steve groans lowly. 

You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock. 

“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead. 

“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering. 

Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?” 

“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.” 

But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own. 

You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together. 

Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours. 

It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before. 

It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks. 

“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours. 

You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you. 

And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever. 

Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?

“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything. 

“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance. 

“You wanna what?” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body. 

“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.” 

It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face. 

“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”

Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say. 

He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.” 

Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.

You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…” 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…

Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat. 

Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—” 

Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—

“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.” 

The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“ 

“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“

For a long moment, you just stare up at him.  

“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.

You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?” 

Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance. 

An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“ 

“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.” 

His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair. 

“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.” 

He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons. 

“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs. 

You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs. 

It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question. 

“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.” 

Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah?” 

The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak. 

“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled. 

Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh. 

Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months. 

As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion. 

“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.” 

“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing. 

A mark from him— a mark of a lover. 

You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck. 

Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much. 

Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed. 

“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.” 

Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.” 

He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise. 

“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.” 

You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.

“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them. 

“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.  

You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest. 

“Steve.” 

“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!” 

You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time. 

“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.” 

Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be. 

“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.” 

“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.” 

Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.” 

And then you kiss him. 

For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel. 

“Can I take these off?” 

His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles. 

Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties. 

“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.” 

He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence. 

“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.

Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?” 

Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants. 

He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.

“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?” 

The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.

“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.” 

He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs. 

Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.

Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier. 

His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh. 

“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.

He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it. 

Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?” 

Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them. 

“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.” 

Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you. 

Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout. 

“Hey!” He exclaims.

It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin. 

“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious. 

Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up. 

“Stop getting distracted.” You jest. 

“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust. 

He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through. 

Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?” 

You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.” 

Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.” 

“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.” 

Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—

The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening. 

“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.

He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?” 

Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it. 

Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath. 

Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this? 

One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention. 

“Sorry,” you say instinctively. 

“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.

He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves. 

“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust. 

You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again. 

He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine. 

“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve. 

Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more. 

“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow. 

“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that. 

Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth. 

To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.

He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out. 

You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt. 

Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure. 

It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit. 

“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.

Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?” 

God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex. 

“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?” 

Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night. 

But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair. 

“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper. 

Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly. 

You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.” 

“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze. 

“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.” 

You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.

You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside. 

You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath. 

Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately. 

Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.” 

Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“I want to do more with you.” 

A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.

“I want to do more, right now.” 

Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs. 

Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more. 

When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.

You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail. 

Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.

And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time. 

But Steve’s cock is… pretty. 

Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought. 

You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it. 

Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise. 

“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does. 

“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.

“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.” 

You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty. 

Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure. 

The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.

Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix. 

You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.

You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant. 

“Woah, y’okay?” 

You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.” 

Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does. 

He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.

“We can stop,” Steve whispers. 

You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips. 

“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.” 

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone. 

The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows. 

“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“ 

“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body. 

Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.” 

Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.

“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.” 

You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly. 

He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”  

You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close. 

“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.

He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.” 

You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply. 

“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.” 

Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.

“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?” 

He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.” 

“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose. 

“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?” 

Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.” 

Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.” 

For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you. 

After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?” 

Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm. 

“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.” 

You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down. 

As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it. 

“Ew,” you laugh. 

“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front. 

You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck. 

You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back. 

You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself. 

“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you. 

“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself. 

“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch. 

This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward. 

Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?” 

You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing. 

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,” 

Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment. 

“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving. 

And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully. 

You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.

Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck. 

You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."

You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.

“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."

His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch. 

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together. 

“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again. 

“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.” 

He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.

“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,” 

You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder. 

“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.” 

“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time. 

Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.” 

Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight. 

“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.” 

Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest. 

You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.

You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest. 

He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss. 

He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer. 

“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?” 

You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”

Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one. 

Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.

Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear. 

Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock. 

Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy. 

You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.

You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly. 

You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning. 

You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.

Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss. 

You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you. 

Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.  

After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs. 

Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.

Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you. 

“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.” 

That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.” 

He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.

Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains. 

You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.

“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”

Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands. 

"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.

“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?” 

You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done. 

“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.” 

Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is. 

Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.

Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.

But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.

"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.

Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.

He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."

If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.

Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.

"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.

"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.

Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."

His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.

He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).

Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"

You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.

"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.

And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.

There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.

There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.

Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.

tags below! (seven months later...)

@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles

@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis

@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone

@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth

(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)

[wibblywobblyswitchy]

Have a little sneak peak at my next fic! 🤍

[fluffomatic]

Oh my gosh, tickle art! After all this time *wipes tear*

Of course it's Lee Spectra. After that last post, of course, I was gonna draw him getting wrecked. Mylene and Shadow are definitely his meanest lers. They're the kind of people to be affectionately mean to him. They bully the shit outta Spectra CONSTANTLY. As soon as they heard his real, non evil laugh, they were too endeared by it and absolutely floored someone like Spectra was ticklish to begin with. So he has to watch himself around the couple~

(My art don't repost but please reblog)

[void-occupation]

love all of these with my entire being, couldn't resist adding to it lol

Nifty and Alastor. Nifty is 100% the ler in this situation, and not just because she's canonically not ticklish. She is an absolute gremlin and is completely merciless when she decides to tickle someone. Safewords exist with her, but you have to make sure she can hear you when you say it - she'll get so lost in hr attack that she'll completely forget to listen for it. She usually tickles Alastor if she thinks he's upset, or if he's committed a particularly heinous crime against her cleaning agenda (hint about a fic I've written and am currently proofreading???), and she is a little monster about it. If she wants him to admit something, he'll do it within a few minutes. No matter how much he shields himself, her hands are so small, they can squeeze past his defenses to get his worst spots. She's also surprisingly patient - she can build up to a session for days, her current record is 13 days. The anticipation makes Alastor super skittish because he never knows when she'll strike. No matter what, if Nifty decides to tickle him, Alastor will end up crying by the end of the session, if not by the middle. She is scarily precise and always knows what methods/spots will draw out the most intense reactions

Alastor and his shadow. I like to think that they are actually very close emotionally, and his shadow is Alastor's #1 ler, if only because they are around each other 99% of the time. His shadow (they/them) will tickle him for literally any reason. Waking up a few minutes late? Tickles. Anxious/sad/upset at all? Soft cheer-up tickles. Alastor's in a sudden lee mood? They can cater to whatever he needs, be it gentle teasing or a full-blown wrecking. Will use shadowy tendrils to restrain Alastor 9/10 times, even if it's just holding one arm up while they tickle his armpit/side. They're also not afraid to do subtle tickle attacks in front of other people - the most memorable of which being the time that they discreetly tickled his entire torso for a whole overlord meeting and Alastor was literally shaking in his seat and clamped one of his hands over his mouth to physically stop his laughter. Alastor pretends to be mad when that happens, but in reality he's just incredibly flustered

Alastor and Zestial. Happens very rarely and Alastor is always baffled/flustered by it. Zestial has developed pretty strong paternal instincts for Carmilla's daughters and Alastor, though he's never told Alastor as much. He's more of the quietly caring kind of guy, and Alastor is physically incapable of picking up on that kind of thing, though he respects the fuck out of Zestial and always looks forward to their talks. Zestial always makes his tickles seem like they could be accidents. Running his claws up and down Alastor's spine in a way that's shockingly ticklish, grazing the back of his neck when he goes to put a hand on Alastor's shoulder, repeatedly poking Alastor in the ribs/belly when mentioning that he should eat more. Again, very subtle, but he always knows exactly what he's doing. Zestial is just doing his part in making sure Alastor's smile is more genuine in his presence, and if that means poking at his ribs until he's muffling laughter behind clenched teeth and fighting the urge to twist away, the so be it

Tickle hcs for hazbin!

CW/TW: This has lots of sadomasochism and implied CNC (all SFW though!)

(characters included: Charlie, Alastor, The Vees (all 3), Husker, and Lucifer)

tickle rants/fic ideas and inspo stuff (Feel free to add on stuff and/or use these!) 

Rosie and Alastor. Come on lets get some potential in here, she’d totally do intense tk sessions with him. She isn’t stopping until he safewords. He may be scared, yes, but he gave her full permission + consent to do it. (We could honestly go for a CNC vibe!) Rosie is ruthless with tickles, and isn’t really too shy when it comes to lees. She knows their boundaries + limits, and is careful when pushing a lee past the limit. Rosie also owns a voodoo doll of Alastor. But other sessions can be all fluffy and sickening sweet! Soft tickles, teasing little petnames and nicknames (are those the same thing?), gentle pokes and prods. Rosie def knows how to melt a lee, (again, looking at you Alastor,) and loves seeing them be all fluffy and sweet with her.

Vox and Alastor. Alastor is probably more a 50/50 switch with this one, Vox the same. In my opinion, Alastor totally fear chases Vox down all too often for tickle sessions. Knife play isn’t uncommon. CNC is also probably in this one too! I def think Vox would be super teasy with words and tickles when he’s wrecking Alastor. He probably loves doing anticipation stuff–casual pokes and prods when in front of people, little innocent teases, and this could go on for hours on end until Alastor finally just begs Vox to wreck him. When Alastor is tickling Vox, I feel like he’d be on the more sadistic side of things. Ticklish nibbles/bites, claws (he has claws!!!), he’d probably use his tendrils when tickling him. Both can be fluffy one second and wildly sadomasochistic the next. To me its a 50/50.

Vox, Velvette, and Val. They are def on the more sadomasochistic side of things. I feel like Vox and Val are the main lees in the trio, Vel being the ler in most situations. She isn’t afraid to make her lees cry. Val and/or Vox could be crying and begging her to stop, but she isn’t going to. There’s a reason a safeword is set in place. She knows how much they can take + when they’re actually done. I think Velvette would be the one who would do tickle sessions for hours on end. Occasionally she’ll have/let Vox help with wrecking Val and pushing him past limits. They’re sadomasochists, and Vel would totally record sessions.

Val and Alastor (not my most common lee/ler thingy for me). I feel like its a 50/50 here. Alastor enjoys seeing Valentino sob from being tickled. he doesnt like Val that much anyway, so seeing him in pain brings out that sadistic side. Alastor isn’t too kind when it comes to tickles for Val. Val is kind of the same way. He would defninetly trick/force Alastor into drinking a potion that increases ticklish sensations. The poor deer will be thrashing and begging before Val even touches him. And when it actually does start, Alastor probably will be crying within the first five to ten minutes. But then again, safeword is in place. Both demons are sadomasochists. 

Velvette and Alastor. (Personal preferences for female lees have me saying Alastor is the lee in all situations). Velvette enjoys recording tickle sessions. She knows how sadomasochistic Alastor is so purposely does things to rile him up (anticipation, tapping her fingers up his back/sides/etc, talking about tickles in front of him.) When it’s time for the actual session, he’s essentially shaking from wanting the tickles so badly. He does but up a front of saying he doesnt want them until Vel forces him into saying he wants the tickles. He doesnt like the fact that she records it, but he cant really stop her.

Alastor and Husker. 50/50 switch again. Alastor loves doing fear chases with the soul he owns. Seeing the cat sprint away and try to hide while he’s calmly and slowly chasing him down is everything to him. He can sense the fear in Husker which makes it better. Husk enjoys the fear chases but would never say it. Alastor does own a voodoo doll of Husk. When Husk is tickling Alastor, he often has to chain him down so he isn’t thrashing all pver the place. Alastor likes to feel like he’s still in control. so he tells Husk what/where he can tickle and how much. Both demons enjoy the tickles, Alastor moreso than Husk. Husk can/will make cat noises when tickled. 

Charlie and Alastor. (again with my female lee stuff, Charlie isn’t a lee here.) Charlie I think is more soft tickles with Alastor. She enjoys just melting the deer with soft tickles. Charlie also enjoys seeing him start to whine and giggle for more. She loves teasing him, but I think she wouldn’t be too cruel with him. Alastor does tease her through the tickles too, because of the whole wanting to feel in control thing. 

Lucifer and Alastor. Lucifer is more the lee with these two. Alastor enjoys doing soft and rough tickles with Lucifer. He loves to see his rival/partner reduced to an absolute laughing mess from tickles. One way he loved to rile Lucifer up is to drag a hand/tendril down Lucifer’s back to make all six wings flare out, then being all innocent snd pretending it wasn’t him. Lucifer does get Alastor back, although more ruthless. Lucifer’s weak spot may be his wings, but god do angelic feathers work hellish wonders as tickle tools. He slips a wing or two underneath Alastor’s clothes to get right up against the fluffy deer. It tickles like hell. Overall, Alastor loves it.

wowowowow i went overboard lol enjoy!!

[amazingmsme]

Living Up to the Name

AN: This really got away from me, but it’s nandermo, can you blame me? We have a serious drought of wwdits tickle fics & like, what fucking gives they made it canon that the vamps tickle each other (or at least Nandor & Lazlo) & no I will not find a gif I am useless like that This one dips a pinky toe into the spicy pool, so be warned. Literally nothing happens, but bondage is involved & that’s about it. But day 20: relentless just SCREAMED nandermo & I just had to do it justice.

Guillermo was used to the odd requests the vampires would ask of him, some a little too odd, so it was no surprise that he'd become desensitized to it. Strangely enough, it was their more mundane and tame requests that threw him for a loop.

He'd just finished vacuuming the drapes (yes they needed to be vacuumed) when Nandor walked in. "Guillermo," he said, announcing his presence and grabbing his attention.

"Hello master," he greeted with a smile, one Nandor shyly returned before growing serious once more. He was doing that thing where he wanted to say something, but wanted you to be the one to prompt the conversation, so he just lingered in the room until you cracked.

"Did you need something?" he asked when Nandor didn't continue on his own.

"I've just been thinking a lot."

"Oh? What about?"

"Me, obviously." Guillermo couldn't help the amused scoff that slipped out, nor the fondly annoyed look he gave the cameras. Nandor either didn't notice, or didn't care. "Mostly about who I used to be. How I used to be able to make entire countries bend to my will. My reputation as a heartless conqueror," despite the awful words, his voice grew soft with nostalgia. "People used to fear me Guillermo. Some loved me, most hated me. But they all feared me."

Guillermo set down the vacuum attachment and turned to face him. "And do you... miss?... that?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course I do. What kind of a question is that?" Nandor shot a look of his own towards the camera, as if to say "is this guy for real?" He even went as far as to subtly point at his familiar. Well, as subtle as Nandor was capable of. He let out a heavy sigh. "My name used to mean something. Nandor the Relentless. Now I'm just... Nandor."

"Is that really such a bad thing?" Guillermo asked, brows furrowed. Nandor rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"I guess not," he grumbled, lower lib jutting out in a pout and he kicked the leg of a nearby table. "But I've gone soft," he said dejectedly.

"No, no you're not soft. You're still just as ruthless as ever," Guillermo tried to comfort him, feeling incredibly awkward as he did so. But it seemed to work at least.

"You really think so?" he asked. Guillermo nodded. Nandor broke out into a wide grin, fangs on full display. "Heh, thanks. These hands used to make people scream," he reminisced, flexing his fingers. Guillermo couldn't help but stare at the movement and swallowed.

"Still do," he added before he thought better of it, eyes going wide. Nandor straightened his posture, watching Guillermo carefully. "I mean- Lazlo and Nadja get pretty loud," he quickly added as an excuse. Nandor smirked and stood up, walking over to Guillermo.

He tried to busy himself so he wouldn't have to look in Nandor's eyes. It still didn't help the flutter in his heart when Nandor towered in front of him.

"Oh Guillermo..." the tone in his voice made him snap his head up to look at him. He didn't know if the hungry look in his eyes frightened or excited him. "Did we make you feel left out?"

Guillermo fumbled for the right words. "N-no, no, I-I'm good. More than good," he stuttered.

"It's okay, no need to be embarrassed here."

"I'm not-" but Guillermo cut himself off, knowing better than to try arguing with Nandor of all people.

"It's only natural to be curious. You could've just asked to join, we totally would've let you," he flirted, making Guillermo blush. "You know, I've wanted to make you scream for mercy for quite some time." The boldness of the statement threw him off guard.

"Have you now?" he asked, voice higher pitched. Nandor must've thought it was out of fear, because he clarified.

"Oh I wouldn't be hurting you. I'd just tickle you until you begged me to stop. But I won't." Guillermo felt his cheeks heat up, his throat going dry. "It's not so bad. Just ask Lazlo.

Guillermo shook his head. "I don't- I don't need his input."

"Very well. Follow me." he gestured with a single finger for him to come along. Obediently, he followed.

He'd only ever been in their... playroom to clean it, and he certainly never thought he'd be brought back here. Never thought he'd be so willing to go either, but life is full of surprises. There were various tools and toys lining the walls and spread out on tables for display, and there were various bondage set ups to choose from.

"Go ahead, make yourself comfortable," Nandor insisted. It was a little hard when Guillermo could hear his pulse racing in his ears. He decided to play it safe, laying on the king sized bed against the wall. Nandor sat next to him, looking him up and down with a kind of excitement Guillermo didn't often see. The fact it was directed at him made butterflies flit about in his stomach.

"Good, now take off your shirt." When Guillermo only stared at him in shock, he clarified, "Trust me, it feels much better without clothes." Guillermo ducked his head and blushed.

"Okay yeah I got it," he rushed out. He took a deep breath and pulled the shirt over his head. "So I-I'm guessing you're gonna just- tie me up?" Nandor chuckled at that.

"No silly, I'm horrible at knots! We have cuffs for that!"

"Of course you do," he mumbled under his breath as Nandor retrieved them. When he came back, standing over the bed, he must've sensed the nervous energy coming off of him in waves.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said, surprisingly gentle as he rocked back and forth on his feet. Guillermo furrowed his brows.

"What? No, you wanted this. And I mean, come on," he said, his own voice casual and almost teasing. Nandor cocked his head like a curious puppy. "It's just tickling. How bad can it actually be?" he asked skeptically and almost immediately regretted it.

"Oh you'd be surprised, my dear Guillermo," he all but purred. His heart all but skipped a beat as he laid down on the bed, raising his arms for Nandor to cuff. He did the same his his ankles, testing them to make sure they're secure but not too tight.

His hands hovered over his bare torso for only a moment before diving for the hips. Guillermo shrieked and instantly started bucking. "I thought about starting off slow, but I think we're both too eager for that," he teased, drilling his thumbs over his hip dips.

"Ihihi'm nohohot! S-slow ihihis good!" he cried through his laughter. Nandor hummed, thinking it over before agreeing.

"You're right, we have all night. Why rush things?" he asked, feral grin overtaking his features. Guillermo giggled nervously, the sound growing stronger when Nandor's hands touched down on the tender underside of his arms. Fingertips dragged ever so lightly from his wrists to his armpits, and Guillermo never knew something he could just barely feel could be so torturous. His laugh was short and breath and he was already desperately tugging on his arms. Nandor looked down at him with such adoration, hands never faltering in their movements. Up and down, up and down his arms he went, leaving goosebumps in his wake. When he finally decided to quit playing with his food, he let his hands reach his underarms, drawing lazy circles and playing with the hair.

Guillermo snorted, nose scrunched adorably as his arms flexed and strained to come down. He was barely even touching him, and Guillermo was giggling like a little school girl.

"Wow Guillermo, have you been working out?" Nandor asked when he noticed the bulging biceps  on display. "You've been hiding all of this under shapeless sweaters," he lamented, reaching up to feel the muscle. Funny, he'd never known his fucking biceps were ticklish, until now that is. Nandor was just squeezing them, admiring the muscle and he was practically in stitches.

"I just lihihike sweheaters!" he yelped, arching his back. Nandor acted on impulse, having done this many times with both Nadja and Lazlo and was used to adapting to their bodily reactions. Which was why he shoved his face down onto his belly, growling and nibbling against soft skin as he shook his head, adding even more tickly vibrations to the cocktail of neurons firing in his brain.

Guillermo positively screamed with laughter, light and airy snickers turning to full on cackles in an instant. The combination of soft lips, sharp fangs, and that stupid motherfucking beard had him in an incomprehensible state. And honestly? He couldn't complain. Oh it was horrible, yes, but it was Nandor.

Speaking of, he was feeling rather proud right about now. He was unraveling Guillermo's sanity with each passing second, not only that, but he had agreed to this. The big, strong, vampire killing machine was nothing but a hysterical mess under his fingers, and it was perhaps the greatest power trip he'd felt in ages.

"Ohoho fuck oho shihihit thahahat's ahahawful!" he screeched, thrashing as much as his bonds would allow. Nandor didn't bother to raise his head up when answering, instead speaking directly into the skin and sending him into another round of quiet snickers and chuckles.

"Good, I'm not trying to be nice," he deadpanned, causing a shiver to crawl up Guillermo's spine. Nandor smirked against his stomach before grazing ever so slowly with his teeth. Guillermo swore and bucked violently, deep boisterous laughter bouncing off the walls. It tickled so much that he didn't even notice when Nandor's fangs accidentally pierced through the skin from all his squirming. He sure as hell noticed the tongue that started lapping at the puncture though.

"NAHAHANDOHOHOR NOHOHO! NOHOHO TONGUE OHOHO FUCK PLEHEHEASE!" he shrieked at the top of his lungs. Every part of him was screaming to get away, but those damn fuzzy cuffs prove effective.

To Nandor, the helpless plea might as well have been singing praise. He glanced up and managed to catch Guillermo's eye while he caught his breath, shooting him a devious wink. He shook his head, tugging on his arms.

"Nonono Nandor, whatever it is, don't-"

Nandor, of course, didn't listen, and instead, maintained eye contact as he drug his tongue across his tummy to wiggle straight into his bellybutton.

It's a good think Guillermo was laying down because he felt his legs give out, slowly losing their fight. He was full on cackling now, writhing from side to side and thrashing endlessly. Nandor flicked and swirled his tongue inside his naval, sending him spiraling closer to madness. Each thrust of his hips in an attempt to alleviate the sensation only made it grow worse as Guillermo snorted once more.

"I think you're even worse than Lazlo," Nandor mused aloud, making him blush even more.

"Shuhuhut thehe hehehell up!" he snapped, mirth masking any malice that might've been hidden in his words. Nandor gasped, forming his hands into claws and vibrating them on his exposed tummy.

"Guillermo, I am shocked! You ought to know better than to talk to your master that way," he threatened, a playfully dangerous edge to his voice. Guillermo's eyes widened.

"Ihihi'm sorry! Ihihi'm sohohorry!" he squealed when fingers began working themselves between each rib bone, bubbly snickers and snorts spilling from his mouth.

"I'm afraid sorry isn't good enough," Nandor said without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. He straddled his waist and loomed over him, anxious excitement filling him to the brim. He really hoped that Nandor didn't notice how much he was enjoying this. Which seemed unlikely, seeing as he was practically sitting in his lap.

The sound of buzzing snapped him from his thoughts as he looked at Nandor, who now held an electric toothbrush in each hand. Guillermo felt his heart sink and jump in his throat simultaneously.

They started out in his armpits, making him jolt with a loud peal of laughter. When they didn't move away, his laugh got faster and more shrill the longer the torment continued. Nandor drug the spinning brushes down his sides, relishing in every twitch, gasp and giggle. The toothbrushes made their journey back up, this time taking a detour across the expansive chest.

Guillermo's laugh got more frantic and hysterical as Nandor circled his nipples. He snorted, shaking his head and biting his lip to keep the laughter at bay. It was no use once he touched the brushes down on those sensitive buds. If Nandor thought he was thrashing before, it was nothing compared to this.

"Nahahandohohor plehehease! I ca- I cahahan't!" Guillermo begged through helpless laughter. Nandor cocked his head and hummed.

"Can't what?"

"Ihihi cahahan't tahake ihihihit," he whined, twisting side to side to try and dislodge those downright torturous spinning bristles.

"Aaawww, you poor thing," Nandor mock cooed, leaning down to whisper, "I don't care."

Nandor wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. After all, he had a relentless reputation to uphold.

[halfvalid]

through the night

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: zoro comes to the reader's room during the night. sex ensues.

tags: smut, female reader, oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, kissing (a lot of it), soft zoro, first time together, confessions (kinda), fluff, no use of "y/n", banter, pwp (lowkey).

author's note: consent is sexy and so is zoro

i have up to now only watched 2 episodes of OPLA and have never consumed any other type of one piece media. expect him to be ooc. also it's my first smut fic help

It was nighttime on the Going Merry, and the dull kiss of the setting horizon drifted lazily through the single window in your room. You were lying on your bed, leaning against the headboard as you flipped through a book you’d picked up the last time the ship had been docked. It wasn’t too interesting, but it was something to pass the time with, so you stifled a yawn and flipped to the next page.

There was a knock at your door, and you glanced up, watching as the shoddy metal hinges slowly creaked open. Zoro was standing in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out nearly all the light coming in from the hall. He was still dressed in his daywear, which reminded you that you needed to change—the loose shirt and trousers you wore were, although clean, nothing near sleepwear.

“Zoro?” you asked, watching as he started into the room. You clicked your tongue before he could step another foot inside, though— “If you’re going to come in, take your shoes off.”

Zoro scoffed but obeyed, pausing by the mouth of the room to slide his heavy boots off. He tread lightly to where you lay, climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” Zoro answered. You moved aside to allow him some more room, centering yourself on the bed. Zoro didn’t move, though.

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s possible?”

He looked unimpressed, propping his arms under his head and leaning back so his head was splayed against your thighs. His three matching earrings glinted in the light. “Luffy and Nami are being loud. Your room’s the farthest away.”

“Your elbow is digging into my gut,” you said, turning back towards your book. Zoro rolled his eyes, but readjusted his position, pulling his arms down to instead lay folded atop his stomach. “Are you just going to nap there?”

Zoro shrugged, and you had to stifle a giggle, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He’d never been a man of many words, so you lowered your book again and went back to reading. The light in the room was dim, though; after a few minutes, the glow from the light at your bedside no longer sufficed, and you were too tired to strain your eyes to squint at the page. You could, of course, just turn on the cabin lights—but Zoro was asleep by now, and you hadn’t even liked the book that much anyway.

You set it on your nightstand, gazing down at the slumbering man in your lap. Despite the glare he so often sported, Zoro looked near-angelic in his sleep, his face all smooth planes and straight lines. Those dark eyes of his were hidden like this, black lashes splayed across his cheeks as shadows emphasized the hollows of his bone structure.

He really was beautiful, an ever-comforting presence within the Straw Hats that your eyes had always strayed to. There was a certain kind of fondness you held for him that none of the other crew members could quite compare to, although if you voiced those thoughts Luffy would probably end up giving you a lighthearted scolding. You could already imagine the teasing from the other members of the crew—Usopp and Sanji particularly—making fun of your little crush, which is why you kept your lips firmly sealed. A secret was a secret, and this was yours to keep.

You finally tore your eyes away, focusing instead on getting out of the position you’d gotten stuck in. Somewhere in the back of your mind you liked the idea of Zoro sleeping in your lap, but the clothes you wore were getting increasingly uncomfortable. You carefully slipped out from under him, cradling his head so as to support him as you gently lowered him to the mattress. Thankfully, he didn’t rouse, and you slipped to the other side of the room to open up your wardrobe, satisfied knowing you weren’t disturbing him.

You made deft work, first brushing through your hair and rinsing your face with some clean water before focusing your attention on changing your clothes. You removed your trousers, instead donning a pair of shorts. You were halfway through peeling off your blouse to replace it with a softer, silk one, when Zoro coughed from behind you.

You froze, daring to glance behind you whilst still topless. Zoro had awoken, eyes having lost all trace of sleep as he slowly sat up, staring at your figure across the room. He coughed again as soon as your eyes met, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he said very carefully, voice hoarse and grating.

“No, it’s okay,” you managed out, but you were still frozen. Your thoughts were on the dark look that’d been in his eyes the split-second before he’d looked away—surprised but sharp, cutting like just his gaze could pierce through your soul. Gooseflesh had prickled up along your arms.

“I’ll just… go,” Zoro muttered, already having gotten up as he started shuffling towards the door. You jolted into action, nearly dropping the shirt still in your hands as you turned towards him.

“No, you can—” your words softened, seeing his gaze flicker rapidly around your figure before finally landing on some spot by your cheek. “You can stay.” You paused, hoping your words weren’t too direct. “If you want.”

“You should put your shirt on,” Zoro said, almost choking on his words, like they were too big to fit in his mouth.

Your gaze dropped down before a steady blush started climbing up the sides of your face. “Right,” you started, but it was like you’d lost control of your hands. The shirt still hung limply from your grip.

“Or you could…” Zoro paused, lips parted as he sucked in a soft breath. Carefully, he moved back towards your bed, the only sound in the room a soft thump as he sat back on it. “Not.”

You swallowed. You could barely feel the lax of grip as your fingers released the shirt, letting it fall to the floor in one pathetic heap. You took a tentative step towards Zoro, and then another, until you were right in front of him. The soft night breeze through the window caused chills to erupt down your spine. Or maybe that was Zoro’s expression—nearly studious in his attentivity, eyes grazing across your chest and torso like he was taking in information for a new, particularly high-paying bounty.

“Zoro,” you started. He finally glanced up at your face, and you shuddered, biting down hard on your tongue. “I, um—hi.”

“Hey,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word on his tongue. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything; rather, he raised one of his hands, pressing it against your side until his fingers tightened against your waist, a present, ever-pulsing rush of warmth. “I think my chest is bigger than yours.”

You flushed, a quick rush of crimson gracing your cheeks as you turned away. Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, and a low laugh escaped the bottom of his throat. “That was mean,” you whined. Zoro’s other hand came up to your face, fingers pressing against the underside of your chin. He carefully angled your face down, so you couldn’t look anywhere but straight at him.

“It worked to calm you down, though,” he said easily. You were about to protest against the fact that you had been calm in the first place, but then Zoro was kissing you.

Zoro was a lot less aggressive than you’d originally expected, but as you sunk deeper into the kiss, it started to make sense. Zoro was all clean lines when he fought, practiced and perfect—no space for sloppy lines or scribbles. The way he kissed was similar; he applied pressure, but not too much pressure, and his thumb traced firm circles into the skin of your waist.

He angled your head with the hand firmly propped against your jaw, so you didn’t have to do a lot of the work—just press against his lips and move against the gentle rhythm he’d set. His teeth scraped carefully against your lower lip, and he tugged, letting a soft gasp out from your throat.

Zoro took the opportunity to pry your lips apart with his tongue, the fingers splayed against your chin coaxing your jaw open until he could slide his tongue against yours. You let out a soft whimper, hands scrambling to his shoulders and running along the muscles of his back. Of course you’d known he was well-built, but the firmness of his body forced another squeak out of you—one he was more than willing to swallow up.

Eventually, Zoro’s hand dropped from your jaw, skimming along your body line before coming to rest on the underside of one of your breasts. You gasped as he started to massage the skin with his thumb, accidentally biting down on his lower lip in the process. He groaned, the sound low as his rhythm sped up, the hand cupping your waist dropping down to your hip.

And then he was hoisting you up and onto his lap. “Oh my God,” you muttered, causing him to break away, eyes glinting with amusement.

“What?”

A heady rush had blossomed along your cheeks again. “Nothing. You.” Somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered how strong Zoro had to be to lift you off the ground so easily with only one arm—granted, it hadn’t been that far of a lift, but still. “Kiss me again.”

Zoro laughed but obeyed, his hand still working at your breast as the other dropped to your thigh. Your fingers interlaced with his short hair, tangling within the moss-green locks as his tongue ran along the ivories of your teeth. His teeth scraped against your lip as he moved away, lips instead following the line of your jaw and moving down to your neck.

You dropped your arm from his hair, hand pressing flat against his upper back. Zoro’s muscles flexed as he chased down your throat, and you sighed as he pressed gentle kisses along the line of your vein.

“Been—wanting to do this for a while,” Zoro panted between kisses, placing a final one kiss at the junction of your collarbone before glancing tentatively back up at you. You met his mouth in another kiss, a smile you hadn’t felt rising bright along your cheekbones.

“Me too,” you whispered, and a look of relief flashed across his face before he was ducking his head again to press more kisses along your neck. You let out a laugh—you could feel the rumble of his lips against the sound as it left your throat. Carefully, you ran your finger along his earrings, soft clinks filling the room at the action. “What was that? Did you think I didn’t?”

“Dunno,” Zoro muttered, and you laughed again before he nipped at your skin, teeth scratching in a gentle bite. At your chest, his hand squeezed your nipple, and you gasped.

“That was mean.”

“Mhm.” Zoro didn’t seem appeased, his kisses turning sloppier—open-mouthed, full of bite. He never pressed down hard enough to hurt, but your mouth was full of soft gasps and whines, and your hand had come down to clench against his bicep. God, his arms. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

You nudged him, meaning only for it to be a slight press. But Zoro let the action guide him, falling onto his back with you pressed against him, flat against the bed. He stilled, both hands dropping to your hips as he gaze lifted to drink you in.

You were certain you were a mess—blushing, lips probably swollen, bruise blossoms that would purple by morning scattered all along your neck. But the way he looked at you made it seem like you were all dolled up—like you were outfitted in a flowing gown, eyes sparkling and hair perfect instead of the mess it most undoubtedly was.

“You’re pretty,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Actually, you were certain you weren’t supposed to hear it, because before you could respond, he was pulling you across him, fluidly rolling you onto your back. His forearm pressed against the mattress beside your head, caging you in. Zoro seemed to like this angle, moving down your neck to your chest with more gentle kisses.

You were content to let him take what he wanted, eyes not moving from his face as you watched his lips brush over your breast. His tongue was hot against your skin, and you sucked in a tight breath as he swirled it along your nipple. Zoro steadied you with a firm grasp, hand pressing against your side before pushing up to attend to the breast that his mouth wasn’t. You squirmed, a soft pool of warmth sitting in your lower belly as he worked. A tight knot had formed somewhere inside, and you let out a breathy gasp.

Zoro’s gaze traced lower, hand leaving your breast in favor of skidding down your figure to rest at the hand of your shorts. He paused, eyes flickering upwards to meet yours. Hastily, you nodded, and his fingers dipped below the cloth, head lowering to press another kiss by your hip bone. Your hands clenched against the bed sheets as his fingers skimmed the rim of your shorts, coaxing them down inch by inch before they finally slid down to your knees. You kicked them off insistently, and Zoro laughed, one hand coming to stroke your thigh as if to make you stop moving.

Even though you’d partly expected it, you hadn’t been ready for the soft kiss he pressed against your inner thigh. His hand hooked around the side of your panties, dragging them down as he kissed up your skin, and you took in a sharp breath that he wholly and entirely ignored. His movements became more insistent as you squirmed, open-mouth and biting, tongue darting out from between his lips to languidly swipe up your thigh. Finally he reached the junction of your thigh and core, mouth pressing a feather-light kiss that dragged an entirely shameful sound out from your throat.

Zoro pushed your panties all the way off your hips, letting them sit by your knees even as you squirmed to kick them off. “Shh,” he murmured, and you stopped, heart pounding as the sound sunk deep into your bloodstream. The tight knot in your lower belly had only grown tighter, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched Zoro, his eyes flickering all around your exposed core.

He ran a finger along the side of your slit, and you shuddered, watching as he experimentally traced it across your folds. He lowered his head to your hips, pressing a kiss onto your clit. You were barely able to suppress the buck of your hips as Zoro’s hand came to rest on your thigh, pinning you down as his other hand worked along your core.

His finger found your vagina, carefully sinking between your folds as his tongue worked languid circles around your clit. You let out a moan, voice stuttering against your throat as his finger slipped deeper inside you. It only took him a few moments to push another one in, the soft scrape of his cut fingernails eliciting sparks that drew another breathy moan out of you.

“Isn’t it a little—unfair that I’m the only one not wearing anything?” you managed out between breaths, and Zoro stopped his motions, head lifting and eyes glancing up at you from under his lashes. One of his eyebrows arched in question, and his lips were glossy with your fluids, causing your core to squeeze around his fingers. Somehow, he didn’t even seem to notice the motion.

“Oh, that’s what you want to focus on right now?” he murmured, all low and throaty. He always spoke low-pitched, vocal chords all brash and grating from the back of his throat, but his voice hummed even deeper now, although that didn’t seem humanly possible. Your muscles clenched again, and Zoro’s gaze dipped down to where his fingers were still pushed inside of you. He fluidly pressed in deeper, fingers curling inside your body before pulling out and working back in. Your retort was lost as you moaned again, the tight feeling of your gut slowly unwinding as he moved back and forth inside of you.

His mouth lowered to lick at your clit again, and you cried out, barely suppressing a scream as his fingers dug, more insistent, inside of you. He pressed one final kiss against your clit, and then sat back, eyes fixed on working at your core instead. His fingers pumped in and out, steady and fluid. Your breaths came out breathy and broken, climbing closer and closer to your climax until he finally reached the summit inside of you.

“Come,” Zoro whispered, the hand not taking care of you running reassuringly along your thigh. You came suddenly, hips stuttering from where’d they’d lifted off the mattress, a cry ripping out of your throat. Zoro slowly slipped his fingers out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your inner thigh as you ran out your climax. Your breaths evened out, becoming less deep, less frantic; Zoro watched all the while, a glossy shine over his eyes and the faintest of smiles pressed along his lips.

You tilted your gaze down to his face, catching him just as he started to move again. The fingers drenched in your fluids came up to his mouth, and he licked them clean. Your stomach dropped, somehow already turning you on despite having come just mere seconds beforehand.

“My turn,” Zoro said softly, sitting up to start unbuttoning his shirt. You hoisted yourself up, hands skimming along the sheets beside him, uncertain of whether he wanted you to touch. You glimpsed a stiff tent in his pants as he sat up, and swallowed hard, eyeing the pull with apprehension.

“Do you want me to—” you tried gesturing down to his hips, but he caught your hand swiftly, pressing it against the buttons of his shirt. “What do you want?”

“Sex,” Zoro said. Nothing else. You held back the choke that dared to escape your throat, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. It was lopsided, nearly a smirk, if not for the genuine warmth glimmering at his eyes. “Sorry. That was vague.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, stifling a laugh. Your hands worked fastidiously at his buttons. It took far longer than you felt it should’ve, fingers all clumsy as you tugged them through their holes, unlooping them from where it fixed the cloth together. Soon enough, though, Zoro was stripping the last of the fabric off, tossing it carelessly across the room before pulling you into another kiss.

He was sloppier now that you’d come, more comfortable in his element—you could taste the tang of yourself on his lips, and you let out a sigh, hands moving down his figure to work at his belt. He had to stop kissing you to tug at his pants, pushing them down his legs before finally kicking them off fully.

You ducked your head to press a kiss at his navel, eyes tracing the length that jutted out from his hips. Your breath caught, gaze fixed to a pale vein running up the line of his length. “Up,” Zoro murmured, and you glanced up. Zoro pressed a long kiss to your mouth, one hand skimming around your butt to pull you up by the headboard. He ran a hand over your core, as if to ascertain you were relaxed enough for him.

“Do you have anything for it?” he murmured, lips sending chills down your back as he pressed a soft kiss at your jaw.

“I’m on the pill, yeah,” you huffed out, arms winding around his torso. Zoro hummed his response, fingers running up and down your thigh as he adjusted, hips sliding against yours to meet your core.

You sucked in a breath, but he was gentle with it, pushing in slowly, hand running along your lower back and coaxing you still. The sensation sparked tingles all over your body; up your spine, along your hips, down your legs like Zoro was electricity himself. You let out a little sigh as he pushed up to his hilt into you, hips stuttering against his as you both paused for breath. He brushed a ghost of a kiss along your lips. “Okay?” Zoro murmured.

“Perfect,” you answered, arms clutching tighter around him, fingers digging into his back. You hoped it wasn’t too sharp, but considering how big Zoro was, it was likely he barely felt the pressure—the crescents of your fingernails were probably just pinpricks to him.

Zoro started moving, then, his actions soft and fluid at first, fingers pressing reassuring circles into your waist and hips. He was nearly tender with it, motions languid and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Your breaths came out easy, soft and just barely edging towards gasps.

He started thrusting with more insistence soon, though; Zoro’s hips bucked against yours, and your grip tightened along his shoulder blades as he pushed in and out of you. Soft gasps and whines left your throat, in stark contrast to the heavy groans and grunts that barely stuttered past Zoro’s lips.

“Like that,” you said, barely able to let out words of encouragement as he hit your sweet spot, buried deep inside of you. You let out a throaty moan as he moved faster and faster, thrusts becoming harder and more aggressive. You knocked your head back, one of your hands reaching to grab Zoro’s from where it propped him up by your head. He welcomed the invitation quickly, fingers interlacing with yours, coaxing your palm open into a kiss of your hands. His thrusts worked harder than ever, and you stopped chasing the friction, letting your hips buck up against his as he shoved into you.

A low groan erupted from his throat as he hit your spot again, mouth coming down to bite into your shoulder as he suppressed the cry that tore from his mouth. You swallowed, gasping hard for breath as you felt him come inside you, your walls clenching tight around him before you also felt the familiar burst of pressure. You let out a gasping moan, mind buzzing with sparks and tingles. Vaguely, you felt Zoro’s hand against your hip, moving up and down in calming strokes.

It took a moment for you both to recover, coming down from the blissful high after long seconds ticked by. Zoro removed his mouth from your shoulder, carefully prying his jaw off from your skin. He scrutinized the marks he’d left—crescents of teeth, undoubtedly—before lowering his head again to press an apologetic kiss to the bite. You laughed in surprise.

“I can be a gentleman,” Zoro protested lightly, though his words didn’t hold much of a fight as he carefully slid out of you. He did it slowly, inch by inch, leaving a hollow sensation in his wake when he eventually parted from you. “You okay?”

“Lovely,” you answered honestly, eyes grazing up his chest before meeting his. “You?”

“I’m good,” Zoro answered, a vague smile on his lips. It was soft, tender; maybe not as big as ones you’d seen when he was laughing with the crew, but special nonetheless. He studied you for a moment, and you took the opportunity to trace his face with your eyes. His pupils were blown, slowly receding back into small dots of shadow, and his lips were kissed red, swollen over and glossy with your saliva. “Want me to draw a bath?”

“No,” you said, content just to watch him like this. “We can clean up in the morning, it’s getting late.” You hesitated, suddenly uncertain, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Unless… you want to go?”

Zoro snorted. “No, I think I like it here,” he decided. He sat up, reaching to pull the blankets over your figure so the gooseflesh you hadn’t even noticed on your skin would subside. “Too tired to move, anyway. Might stay here forever.”

“Dramatic ass,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to you. Zoro obeyed, sliding beside you, one arm moving to wrap around your waist. “Go to sleep, you big dummy.”

Zoro’s breath was light against the shell of your ear. “That was unwarranted.”

“Sleep,” you insisted, and Zoro huffed, reaching the arm that wasn’t around you to the nightstand. He flicked the lantern off, then turned back towards you, finally settling down. His lips pressed a soft kiss along your shoulder, and you smiled, your hand reaching down to meet where his was splayed along your belly.

“Good night,” you whispered.

“Night,” he mumbled back, the end of the word tapering off into a soft, tired breath. You could feel his chest move, up and down in a steady, soft rhythm. You buried your head into the crook of his arm, letting out a contented sigh before finally closing your eyes to drift off to sleep.

© halfvalid 2023

[seeliemansi]

HEAR ME OUT! Mc (reader) performs "Earned it" by The Weeknd (yes the tiktok dance) meanwhile Mr. Crawling 👁️👄👁️

It's your choice whether u make it sfw/nsfw I WANNA KNOW HIS REACTION-

I will be honest with you nonnie. I think Mr. Crawling is too innocent to have the reaction you want him to have.

The moment you called for Mr. Crawling, you can hear how fast he zoomed towards the room where you at. His hands were happily tapping on the floor, his smile is wide, as he chirped, "Me here! You call?"

It was as if just by calling his name, you made his day.

At first, you feel a bit ashamed as he innocently titled his head to the side, waiting for you to speak or do whatever the reason you called for him. He looks too pure for the dance you plan to perform. But, you have to do this. This is his reward for being so good to you since he came home with you.

Anyway, might as well start.

With a deep breath, you readied yourself, played the music and do the choreography as you practiced.

You never took your eyes off him, especially when you got down, opened your legs and flip your hair. You watched as his smile went to an "O" and how he gasped when you suddenly move down, surprising him.

After you ended your performance, the room was quiet, too quiet to your liking. When you raised your head, he was just staring at you, at least that's how you felt as his smile was down and he was just sitting there, unmoving.

Embarassed, you felt your face heat up, and immediately sat properly, crossing your legs shame finally catching up to you.

You were about to say something and cut the awkwardness when he suddenly grinned and clapped his hands. His giggles are loud as he howled and cheered for you.

"Wow! Cute! Good! Good! Pretty! Pretty!"

You let out a yelped when he suddenly hug you, snaking his arms around your neck. His cheeks glued on you as he continue his praises, and squeezes you with affection.

"Kiss! Kiss!" He suddenly scooped your face and give you smooches all over your face.

You were too dumfounded to do anything so all you did was blinked, until he used his hands to pat your head, and you giggled, ticklish.

"Love you! You love me?"

a/n: but i don't want to end this here and i thought might as well write for the other guys 😆

The other Homicipher boys under the cut

Mr. Hood just stood there after you performed. He didn't say anything but he kept you sat on his lap the whole day.

Mr. Chopped is not innocent as you think. If he has a body, you'll see the sign of his boner on his pants. Let's just say Mr. Chopped was too clingy after that invigorating performance.

Mr. Silvair was grinning the whole time until it ended, just like his reaction every time. It made you nervous, and you gulped not knowing what to do. Suddenly, he grabbed a pen and a paper, and wrote the exact words, "you only show that to me. yes?"

Mr. Machete never let you finish. He thought whatever you were doing is a challenge and he almost chase you out. It took a while but you convinced him after that you were just dancing. The mood was already ruined so you didn't pursue doing it again.

Mr. Gap watched your performance intently, too intent to your liking. He was grinning from start to finish. He was giggling when you were done when suddenly he vanished out of your sight. It made you nervous and scared. Knowing him, he will probably do something unpredictable. And you were right. He suddenly appeared on the shadow that was on your wall. Touched your nape with his cold hand. You felt something sticky and wet had touched your skin. The suddenness making you yelped and shudder in surprise. He giggled and vanished for the entirety of the day. (What an asshole)

Mr. Scarletella was smiling at first when you started your perfomance. But it was you who decided to stop it when he suddenly turned his head in a 360' angle and never let his eyes out of you. It was so creepy that your want to perform was replaced by fear. He stood by you the whole day. Way too close to your liking, that you can feel his jacket brushing on your skin.

[valiantphantomangel]

Hiya everyone. Can anyone who has a request for a fic either for marvel men, X-Men, Shadow and Bone or TVD. Can you please send them in, i really wanna write but I don't have the inspiration 😭