#ticklish!stan

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

can you pls write a fic with lee!stan and ler!kyle🙏

Hi gigglers! This is more of a drabble than a fic but hope you enjoy!

"No, seriously. It's not funny Kyle", Stan said as firmly as he could, although his voice quivered a bit. The boy had tried a shortcut out of the KFC bathrooms, avoiding the narrow path for a squeeze down the even narrower staircase. It was a dumb idea, but Stan wasn't the biggest fan of how repetitive and boring school days could be, so he took every opportunity for an adventure. Now he was paying the price.

"Aww, come on Stan", Kyle said in his teasy voice, "Can I just give you a little tickle wickle?"

Stan blushed heavily and groaned, "Don't say that. Now let me out!"

Kyle walked closer toward the staircase threateningly, his fingers in claws.

"Any last words Stan?"

Kyle could be very evil sometimes. Stan shut his eyes tight and tried desperately to wiggle free, but to no avail. He knew that he would be able to get out with his friends' help, but Kyle wasn't being the best friend at the moment.

"Come on bro, friends don't take advantage of friends when they get in difficult situaTIONS!" Stan's lecture was cut short, him squealing and erupting into a peel of giggles as Kyle reached his hand behind the staircase to poke and scribble at his side.

Kyle's evil face lit up in an expression of pure malicious delight. Stan's giggles were a bit pained at the edges, as he squirmed as far as his body would let him in the tight space. Kyle withdrew his hand - he wanted to have a spurt of fun, not actually assault the boy. Kyle reached his hand in to get Stan out, and pulled heavily, leading Stan to topple out and fall on top of him. In an instinctive move, the ginger-haired boy flipped Stan over so that their positions were switched, not wanting Stan to take advantage of a potentially strategic standpoint.

Stan frowned - "Hey, get off me asshole!"

Kyle did as he was told, allowing Stan to get up and shake his head.

"I can't believe you did that man. After, after all we've been through".

Stan's expression made Kyle's heart drop in guilt - "Come on, it wasn't that bad was it?"

Stan decided to keep up the act - "It is! And you know what the worst part is?" Stan tried to force tears, "I d-didn't even g-get you back".

For a while Kyle felt his stomach sink, regretting all of his life choices and feeling like the most horrible friend in the world. Stan just looked at Kyle's defeated expression, waiting for the ginger to process what he had just said.

"Hey...wait a second..."

Stan smiled, his smile quickly turning into a smirk, "So now do you get it?"

Kyle, who was considerably more ticklish than Stan, made a run for it.

[melody-everbelle]

Ticklish (Stan Laurel x Reader)

Title: Ticklish

Pairing: Stan Laurel x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 565

Warning(s): Making out, tickling, and fluff

Summary: What was supposed to be a make-out session between you and Stan turns into an all-out tickle fight.

Author’s Note: So... I basically wrote this fanfic as a way to get over my fear of the tickle torture scene from the film Way Out West.

Like my Nathan Chen fanfic Cheer Up!, I'm embarrassed because there's tickling in it, but I don't think it should be that big of a deal.

***

It was a rainy day, and you and Stan were lying together in bed. It was the weekend, which meant that not only would Stan give his friend Oliver a break from his troubles, but it also gave you the chance to spend time with your boyfriend. As you were resting against his chest, you felt a surge of inspiration that you couldn't help but smirk at Stan.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Stan?" You winked.

"I certainly am," Stan replied before planting a kiss on your lips.

And so it went, an innocent kiss turned into a passionate make-out. As you got on top of him, you couldn't help but dig your fingers under his shirt. Your fingers spidered all over his sides that Stan's lips parted away from yours, a laugh escaping from his lips.

"Oh my gosh, Stan," you laughed, "are you... ticklish?"

"What? No, I'm not," he continued, tinges of pink coloring his cheeks.

"Aww, come on," you cooed, "you know what this means."

You started lightly poking his stomach, with Stan giggling and squirming all over the bed. Eventually, your fingers moved all the way up to his armpits, where the giggling turned into straight up laughter.

"HAHAHAHA, STOP IT, Y/N!!" Stan shrieked, struggling to escape from your torturous tickling.

"As much as I'd love to, Stanley," you teased, trying not to laugh, "there's just one more spot that needs it." You moved down to his feet, where his soles and your fingers met.

"NOHOHOHO, NOHAHAHAT MY FEHEHEET!" Stan shrieked once again as your fingers danced all over his soles.

"Aww, look how cute you are," you playfully taunted.

Admittedly, you took pleasure in knowing that his feet were sensitive, so you couldn't help but let out a laugh. You continued your tickling until Stan stopped you, grabbing your arms and throwing you back onto the bed, with him now on top of you.

Oh snap, you thought as both of your arms were bound to the bed by your boyfriend's hands. Now what? You were met with Stan's stern but seductive expression, which turned into a devilish smirk. In turn, he started to get back at you by tickling you, starting with your armpits and stomach.

"No, Stan, wait—HAHAHA, STAHAHAHAHAHAN, STAHAHAHAHAP IT, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!" You squealed as you struggled to be released from his tickling.

"Not a chance, Y/N!" Stan playfully chided as he moved all the way down to your feet, giving them the same treatment.

Despite how torturous this was, your face lit up in pleasure, savoring every bit of the tickling. Eventually, Stan slowed down to the point of stopping, and collapsed on the bed to check on you.

"You okay, Y/N?" He panted, exhausted from what happened.

With no words spoken, you pressed your lips against his, resulting in a passionate kiss once again. Stan followed suit, kissing you back and caressing your body however he liked. Once your kiss was over, you rested against his chest, with his arm wrapped around your waist.

"That... was a lot of fun, to be honest," you said, your voice hoarse from the laughter.

"Mind if we do this more often?" Stan asked.

"I'd love that very much," you nodded.

Soon, your fingers spidered across his chest, with Stan's following along to yours, and you both let out a laugh simultaneously as a result.

[veryblushyswitch]

Tell me this doesn’t give ticklish Stan vibes-

Artist Credit: https://x.com/kogororon/status/1509110869858619398

[valiantphantomangel]

Fic idea for you: You get stuck in an elevator with Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan. After talking for a while one of them accidentally finds out you’re horribly ticklish. Reader is a teenage girl.

BTW I LOVE your fics, they’re so good

A/n: so sorry that this took so long but here it is!! I'm working through every request that was send in so more fics to come in the next weeks!! Not proofread

Bad luck

How in the name of all that's holy did you have the worst luck in the entire solar system, you do not know but there is one thing that you did know.

It sucks.

First your favorite mug handle just broke off when you wanted your morning drink.

That put you in a sour mood but clearly the gods were not done testing your patience yet, you managed to forget your lines not once, not twice, but three times in a row.

And now you were stuck in a God Damm elevator with two of the guys that loved getting on your nerves.

Absolutely wonderful.

"Well it's going to be a while before someone can come and get us so I suggest we just sit tight" Chris Evans mused as he sat down on the ground on your right side and Sebastian on your left.

"Great" i groan as i lean your head against the elevator wall.

"What got you in such a sour mood today?" Sebastian asked as he looked at you.

"You do not wanna know"

"Alright then, continue being moody" he said with a roll of his eyes as he gave you an innocent poke in the side.

At least that's what it was supposed to be, you flinched away from the contact and look between them, hoping they didn't notice.

"What was that?" Chris asked with a smirk as he looked down at you.

"Nothing, just a flinch"

"Oh really? So it wouldn't be that you're actually ticklish?" Sebastian asked with one and the same smirk as he pinched your sides.

A squeal left your mouth and you immediately knew you were screwed.

Chris pulled your upper body towards him, you back against his chest and Seb grabbed your legs and pulled them to his lap, throwing one of his own legs over yours to trap yours.

"Don't you dare!" You say with a nervous giggle. A blush already rising in your neck.

"But I thought you said you weren't ticklish" Chris said with a fake confused expression "We've got to check that" he tasered your side with one hand and with the other pinned your hands against your chest.

"STOPHAHHA ITHAHAHA" you screamed in laughter which only grew louder as Seb started to squeeze your knees.

"Tell you what, when we think that you're done being moody we will let you go" He said as Chris scribbled over your tummy.

"THAT'S NOT FAIRHAHHAHHAHAH"!!!

"I think it is"

The terror duo continued to tickle you to pieces, working together to reduce you into a boneless giggling mess.

Chris suddenly blew a raspberry in your neck which tickled a hell of lot more because he had grown a beard for the movie.

You LOST it, wild cackles pouring from your lips until they turned into breathless hiccups laughs.

They let up and you sink into them, your face red but with a giant smile on your face.

"See, all you needed was some tickles. You look much cuter with such a beautiful smile then with such a grumpy face" Chris teased as he helped you sit up and lean against his chest.

You blushed brightly and hid your face in his neck which both he and Seb smiled at.

"Come on giggles, we still got some work to do but after that we'll have a mandatory movie night with the cast. We'll take over one of Downey's trailers" Seb chuckled before pulling you to your feet.

And just opened the door of the elevator with a click of the button.

"Wait! The elevator wasn't stuck at all!" You exclaimed as you stepped out.

"Of course it wasn't" Chris smirked before the duo walked off.

"Assholes" you grumble but with a smile before you also walk off to the into costume.

How you loved to be a part of the marvel cast.

[tickle-bugs]

If you are comfortable with this, could you write one with Barbara and Adam Maitland with the dialogue “you may not find my dad jokes funny, but I have other ways of making you laugh.”

i realized only after i finished this that i forgot to include the dialogue NOOOOOOO

this is the same premise tho, hope u enjoy it!!!

Not a House, But a Home

“Honey, can you fix us some lunch while I finish this up?” Barbara calls, dropping her paintbrush into the glue bucket. She gathers up the remaining wallpaper as neat as possible and sets it out of the way.  

This house of theirs is really starting to feel like a home. A little too big for just the two of them, but there’s nothing to be done about that. That ‘expanding the family’ conversation always ends in a depressingly existential place, and well…why think about that when she can put up new wallpaper?

The sickly yellow of the original house had always felt like a bad omen, but she’s hoping this pastel brocade will really liven up the place. Maybe the green would bring them some luck in their new lives. 

“Adam, I’m hungry,” Barbara calls again, frowning at where the wallpaper’s already starting to lift. 

She’s never claimed to be good at renovations, anyways. Thank god she didn’t start with their disaster of a bathroom. 

“Hi hungry, I’m dad.” Adam calls back, rounding the corner with a glowing smile. 

“Ha ha.” Barbara puts her hands on her hips and huffs a strand of hair out of her face. 

“You’ll never believe what I found in one of our boxes.” Adam brandishes a worn, bright blue book with garish text on the cover. The saturation is so intense that Barbara can hardly read it. He flips through it, muttering to himself, and stops on a random page.

“What’s brown and sticky?” He reads, mischief dancing in his eyes. She stares blankly at him.

“A stick!” He laughs—genuinely laughs, as if Barbara had told the joke herself. She rolls her eyes fondly. 

“Aw, I thought that one would get you.” Adam pouts. 

“Dad jokes just aren’t funny.” She shrugs. He flips through the book again.

“What kind of drink can be both bitter and sweet?” Adam pauses dramatically. “Reali-tea.”

“That’s just depressing, babe.” Barbara sighs. 

“You’re right. Oh! Here’s another one—when does a dad joke become a dad joke? When it becomes…apparent. Get it? Apparent?” He wheezes, nudging her shoulder. She smiles, but more at his antics than anything. 

“Yes, I get it. You goofball.” She swats his shoulder. 

“But you still didn’t laugh.” He frowns.

“Traditionally, people laugh at jokes that are funny. I don’t think your book is going to help you with that.” She kisses his cheek, resigning to make lunch herself while Adam works this little tangent out of his system. 

“No, wait, I’ve got a winner.” Adam tosses the book onto the dining room table. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, stopping her escape to the kitchen. 

“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” 

“Uhm…I dunno?” Barbara instinctually leans back into him, looking fondly up and over her shoulder at his giddy face. 

“Ten-tickles!” 

“Waitwaitwait, Adam! Ohoho nohoho!” Barbara tosses her head back into his shoulder as he tickles her. He kisses her temple as if he isn’t the problem. 

“So you do find my jokes funny!” Adam gasps happily. Barbara squirms in his grasp, her whole face scrunched with laughter. 

“N-No I don’t!” 

“Then why are you laughing?” Adam asks directly into her neck. He’s wise enough to dart out of the way, having enough past practice getting headbutted by her to be quick in his shenanigans. He zips between the sides of her neck, planting fluttery little kisses that make her knees and lungs go weak. 

Barbara cackles, slapping her hands over her mouth to muffle herself. Adam tickles her ribs because he’s mean, he’s so mean, and she grabs his wrists instead. He picks her up a little, vibrating a claw into her stomach, and she kicks her legs with everything she has. 

“Hey. Hey Barbara. What kind of music do chiropractors listen to?” He squeezes her sides, ensuring nothing but squeals can escape her. “They listen to hip pop!” 

“Adam!”

“Wanna hear a joke about construction? Ah, sorry. Still working on it.” 

“Okay, okahahay, you’re funny!” She pats his hand frantically, doubling over in his arms. He lets her go, but not without one last squeeze to the waist. She grabs his hands before he can get any more ideas.

He kisses her, one of those great big mwahs! that she never gets tired of. God, he’s a dork. Her dork. 

“‘Kay, now it’s definitely sandwich time.” She pats his chest, sucking in a deep, giggly breath. Her legs are still a little wobbly underneath her.

“Y’know, I’ve been trying to write a song about sandwiches.” Adam grins. 

“Don’t—“

“It’s really more of a wrap.” 

Barbara sighs with fond exasperation. Adam leans in for another kiss, running off to the kitchen with a yelp when she pinches his side. She waits until she hears the clanging of utensils to release the chuckle she’s holding.  

“A wrap. Classic.” She shakes her head and snickers. 

[nucanitickles]

Yakumo Gets Got Drabble + Headcanons

Living with Yakumo in the mansion was a little bit like living with a ghost, Eiden had to admit to himself.

He had combed nearly the entire mansion by now trying to find his newest clanmate, and after receiving yet another 'you just missed him' from a servant he felt he was going mad. His last hallelujah was a tip from a butler that Yakumo was in the kitchen - doing what Eiden couldn't say but he was beelining there as fast as he could.

"A-ha!" He yelled, watching Yakumo shriek and jump at the sudden noise. "There you are!"

"M-Mr Eiden!" Yakumo was hunched over a countertop, trembling slightly from the fright. "I-I wasn't hiding!"

"I know you weren't!" Eiden grinned, sidling up behind him and wrapping his arms around the yokai's waist, "I just couldn't find you for so long! The mansion is far too big - I still get lost sometimes!" He sighed, shaking his head before tiptoeing slightly to peer over Yakumo's shoulder. "What are you making?"

Yakumo seemed to remember he was doing something, as a deep red colour spread across his cheeks. "Making bread?" He half-mumbled, returning to kneading the dough. "I'm just trying to get the dough to stick together properly - I'm not sure if I need to add more flour or not yet, I just kind of... eyeballed it..." His voice shrunk in volume the more he spoke, as if uncertain in his own abilities. "My grandma makes bread all the time... I miss her..."

Eiden frowned a little, squeezing Yakumo a little in the hug. "We can always go see her you know?" He couldn't quite make out what Yakumo said to that, but he saw that the yokai shook his head. "Why not? I'm sure your grandma and grandpa would love to see you?"

"I have to wait... at least until Mr Aster can plausibly create a 'cure' for the earthworm thing..." He seemed to shrink in on himself even further at the reminder, as if willing himself to disappear.

"Well then, why don't we learn how to make bread together and we can surprise them with some baskets of the stuff when we can go down?" Eiden offered cheerfully, causing Yakumo's blush to spread down to his neck.

"N-no, I couldn't-"

"Couldn't what?" Eiden frowned again, tasering the yokai's sides. "Let me help you! It's bonding time!"

"It's- s-stop it! It's beneath you-"

"Is it beneath me if I want to do it?" Eiden ignored Yakumo's stuttering giggles, in favour of musing over the statement. "It should surely be beneath you too, then, since you were above me?" He waggled his eyebrows as Yakumo stared at him, almost in disbelief, before taking advantage of the distraction and slipping his hands into the serpents armpits.

"NO!" He squealed, hearty laughter spilling from his lips as he tried to slam his arms shut. His hands were still stuck in the bread dough, and he was trying not to throw it around everywhere, but he was trembling from the sheer force of will it took to keep them straight. "S-stohohop!"

"Let me help you!"

"Okay! Okay okay okahahay!" Just like that, Eiden's wicked fingers stopped tickling Yakumo and started gently stroking his waist instead, soothing his still heaving body.

"I think this may be a habit now..." Eiden mused as Yakumo caught his breath. "I've tickled everyone I've met so far... What do you bet I can get everyone else?"

"I'm- I'm not betting anything." Yakumo giggled a little, "I think I've learned my lesson."

"And that is?"

"Not to argue with you."

"Yeah that's fair." Eiden chuckled, moving to the taller man's side. "Now, tell me how the hell you got to the dough stage..."

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

❤️ Lee. 100%. May ler every so often but if he does it's very soft and very sweet because he doesn't know how else to be.

❤️ My boy. My child. Give him loves.

❤️ I think Yakumo would like both gentle tickles and harder tickles. Don't get me wrong, he has to ask for the harder tickles (and that in and of itself is fucking PAINFUL HES TOO SHY FOR THIS) because otherwise it's a little overwhelming but when he does manage to ask he's all blushy and shy and tries to run away so please pull him back into your lap and just go ham it's very cute

❤️ In terms of soft tickles, he loves it when you gently trace around his neck and ears. He doesn't really squirm or anything, just coils up a lil bit like a snake does when they're happy. May make lil tiny hisses but he'll deny it til the day he does.

❤️ I like to think his most ticklish spots are his ears, neck and his spine. He's very ticklish tbf, so you can get him good everywhere, but those are so sensitive that please only attack them gently ok treat him gentle

❤️ Holds onto wrists tightly to prevent himself from fighting back and it's the sweetest thing ever. He doesn't pull them away or anything, just holds them

[veryblushyswitch]

I don’t know if you’ve wrote any yet, but do you have any headcanons for Stan and Ford?

Stan & Ford ~ (tickle hcs)

I haven’t for them actually! Most of these hcs will be about when they’re kids, but there will be a few for after they reconnect ⚓️ Thank you so much for the ask! Hope you enjoy!

⚓️ ~ Stan is for sure the bigger tickle monster between the two. Ford gets him a lot of course, but Stan lives for making his twin laugh.

⚓️ ~ Stan is more sensitive to rough tickles whereas light tickles really get to Ford. Not to say that rough tickles don’t work on him either.

⚓️ ~ Ford is too ticklish for his own good.

⚓️ ~ Stan loves it tho. He uses every opportunity he can to tickle his nerdy twin.

⚓️ ~ Ford is mildly ticklish everywhere, but he’s especially ticklish on his hands, under his arms, on his neck and ears, and along his ribs.

⚓️ ~ His hands make him so giggly and squirmy!

⚓️ ~ When he’d be feeling down about them, Stan would pin his hands down and scribble all over them with his fingers or a pen until Ford agreed that they’re cool.

⚓️ ~ Raspberries absolutely kill him-

⚓️ ~ His mom would give him raspberries on his neck and ears when giving him hugs. Stan would give him tummy and rib raspberries as the grand finale during tickle fights.

⚓️ ~ Of course we can’t ignore the fact that Ford has six fingers on each hand-

⚓️ ~ The dude has two extra fingers to tickle with! Much to Stan’s dismay.

⚓️ ~ Stan isn’t as ticklish as his brother. He’s ticklish in fewer places, but those places are still really ticklish.

⚓️ ~ He’s most ticklish on his knees, stomach, feet, and shoulder blades.

⚓️ ~ Stan can’t get massages without giggling his head off when someone goes for his shoulders or shoulder blades.

⚓️ ~ Whenever Ford tickles him, he always cries out how unfair it is while giggling his head off. It actually makes Ford appreciate his hands more.

⚓️ ~ Ford would constantly do the exploding spider knee thing to Stan and it makes Stan shriek every time!

⚓️ ~ He squeals and curls up when his tummy is tickled!! He’s a fighter and a squirmer, but when his stomach is tickled he lets out the most happy giggles and crumbles.

⚓️ ~ This still stands for when he’s older and he kinda doesn’t hate it hates it.

⚓️ ~ Both also got tickled a lot by their mom when they were younger. Even in their teens she’d give them side/rib pokes and knee squeezes.

⚓️ ~ Got yelled at a lot when they’d stay up late reading comics under a blanket with a flashlight.

⚓️ ~ If there was a tickle scene it would always lead to one or the other initiating a tickle fight.

⚓️ ~ When they were younger, Ford was never really able to get the upper hand during tickle fights since he’s so ticklish. But now that he’s older and learned to fight, he can for sure turn the tables pretty quickly.

⚓️ ~ The first time they tickled each other after everything was when he saw Stan tickling Dipper and Mabel. Stan noticed Ford’s hesitation to join in on the family bonding, so he dragged him into the chaos.

⚓️ ~ He told the kids to watch this and went to go tickle his brother. However, Ford swerved out of the way and used his combat skill to instead pin Stan to the floor and wreck his ass. And to let the kids get their revenge.

⚓️ ~ Didn’t stop Stan from retaliating afterwards though. He went for a bad spot immediately and was able to make Ford crumble.

⚓️ ~ Both didn’t admit it out loud, but that was one of the best days they’d had together since the incident. Tickle fights were something they really missed.

⚓️ ~ These two are such a playful ler duo against Dipper and Mabel. Stan of course shared all of their tickle spots with him.

⚓️ ~ Dipper was so embarrassed at first because the author of the journals was tickling him and hearing him laugh and snort, but he soon realized that yes this the author, but he’s also his Grunkle.

⚓️ ~ Setting out to sail the world was the perfect time for the two to reconnect and make each other laugh once again.

⚓️ ~ Stan tells so many dad jokes on the boat and they drive Ford crazy.

⚓️ ~ Sometimes one of them will get Ford to genuinely snicker, but if he doesn’t Stan will just tickle him while he tells jokes and teases Ford that he didn’t know his jokes were that funny. (He does this a lot with Dipper and Mabel too)

⚓️ ~ They’ve for sure come across a tickle monster while sailing around the arctic.

⚓️ ~ It got both of them and they both tease each other about it.

⚓️ ~ Overall, these two had a lot of tickle fights when they were younger, and even more when they reconnected and met the kids. And they’d never trade it for anything.

[valiantphantomangel]

A/n: this is my delayed Christmas gift to you all, I hope you enjoy and a happy new year 🎊 🫶.

New years shenanigans

"Y/N get out of bed, the fireworks are about to start!" Robert yelled from downstairs and you groan before pulling a pillow over your head to silence the shouting.

You and the marvel cast were invited by RDJ to spend the night at his mansion to celebrate the New Year and watch the fireworks since his mansion looked over the city.

But you being you, got tired and decided to take a nap (over sleeping and not wanting to leave the warmth of the bed) and now it was almost midnight when the fireworks would start.

"I swear to god come down now or me, Hiddleston and Evans will come and drag you down!"

"But this bed is so warm" you whined softly as you snuggled further under the blankets.

"Alright that's it" Robert yelled and you heard 3 pairs of footsteps coming upstairs, you squealed and quickly pulled the blankets over your head to hide before the door was opened.

You heard them coming closer before Tom Hiddleston ripped your blanket off and tackled you onto the bed as you tried to run away.

"Now that's not very polite Little Dove" Tom mused as Chris Evans pulled your arms over your head and Robert took your feet in a chokehold to keep them still.

"SorRYHAHHAHAHA" i burst out laughing as Tom suddenly digged into my ribs.

"What did you say? I couldn't quite hear you there, did you hear her Evans"? Robert said with a grin as he traced your soles.

"Nope I didn't understand a thing" Chris grinned and tickled your neck softly.

"GHAHAHHHA YOU JERK'SHAHHAHAHAH"!

They all faux gasped and you knew you were done for, all of them went full in on your death spots.

It. Was. Torture.

Your scream of laughter went through the mansion as you trashed around, your face red from all the laughing.

"Are you going to come out of bed now?" Tom asked with a smirk as he looked down at you.

"YESHAHHAHAHA"!

"You promise?"

"I PROMISEHIHIHIHIHIHI"!

They let you go and you immediately curled up into a ball "i hate you guys" you mutter with some soft giggles as the ghost tickles slowly went away.

"You love us, now come on or we are gonna be late for the fireworks" Chris smiled and pulled you to your feet.

You all rushed downstairs to the rest of the cast who stood outside, counting down the last seconds of 2023.

"They got you too huh"? Scarlet asked as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah" you said with a soft chuckle.

"Those three are a serious pain sometimes" Sebastian said as he stood next to you.

"Oh you love us" Chris grinned as he punched Sebastian shoulder and quickly stood next to Hemsworth for protection as Seb looked at him daringly.

"5"

"4"

"3"

"2"

"1"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR"!!

You all hugged each other as the sky littered with fireworks, illuminating the night's sky.

And as you stood there, in the arms of people who truly loved you, you couldn't believe how lucky you are.

The marvel cast is a family and you were honored to be part of it.

[dilf-docs]

My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔

word count: 10,991 words

side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)

part: prev | masterlist | next

The news had spread like wildfire.

As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.

(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)

In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"

"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"

He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.

"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"

Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.

"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?

"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.

"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.

"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.

"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"

You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?

"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."

He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)

Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.

"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.

"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.

"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.

The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.

You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.

Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).

So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.

That's it.

You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.

You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.

But boy, weren't you wrong?

It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"

Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.

Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.

This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.

You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.

It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.

Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.

"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:

"You looked at them, didn't you?"

He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"

"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"

"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"

He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.

"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.

"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?

"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"

"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"

He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.

"I'm sorry"

Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.

"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"

"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.

His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.

"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"

He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.

I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.

"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"

Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.

Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.

mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)

It had been days since your fight.

In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.

"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.

So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.

"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.

"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"

"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"

You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.

So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.

"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.

"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.

"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"

"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"

He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.

"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.

"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.

"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.

Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"

"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"

"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"

The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.

"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"

"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"

The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"

Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.

"Won't be needed"

They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.

"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.

He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"

How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.

"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.

You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.

I'm waiting.

So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.

I'm coming.

Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.

You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.

You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.

After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"

You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.

"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.

"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"

His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.

"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.

"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.

"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.

"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)

He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.

His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.

"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.

"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.

"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.

"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"

"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quería quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)

You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.

"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.

"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"

You choke in your words. "No-"

"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"

"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"

Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.

"That's my girl"

His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.

"Sit"

He glares back, "in the toilet?"

"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"

You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.

"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"

You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.

"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.

You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.

"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"

"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"

He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.

You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.

"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"

"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)

"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"

"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"

You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"

"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)

"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"

He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"

"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"

He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.

"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.

"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)

That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.

pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN

The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.

You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.

"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.

"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"

You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.

Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)

"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"

"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.

Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.

"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.

"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"

"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"

"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)

They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.

"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"

Now it's Pedro's turn.

"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"

"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"

"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"

"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"

Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"

You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.

"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"

"London?" Paul asks.

"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"

"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.

"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"

"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.

"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"

"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"

You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.

"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"

The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.

"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"

They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.

"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"

"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"

"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"

Paul laughs, breaking contact.

"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.

"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"

"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.

"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.

"Will you ever let me live?"

Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"

"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"

"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"

You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.

"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"

Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?

"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.

"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.

"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"

"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.

"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.

"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.

"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"

"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"

"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"

"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"

"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"

They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.

"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.

"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"

"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"

The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.

"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"

"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.

"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"

Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"

"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"

"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.

"Clothes line?" you try.

"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"

"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"

The conversation shifts again.

"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"

"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"

Paul agrees.

"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"

"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"

Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"

You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"

Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.

"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.

But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.

"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"

"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.

"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.

"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.

"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"

The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.

"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"

"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.

"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"

"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.

"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"

senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!

You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?

"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.

"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.

"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"

Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.

"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.

"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"

It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"

His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.

"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"

"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"

There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"

You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.

"Well, fuck them manners"

You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.

"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?

"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"

You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.

"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.

"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.

"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"

He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.

"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"

You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.

"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)

His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.

"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"

"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"

Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.

"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"

Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.

"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"

Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.

"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.

"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.

"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.

"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)

His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.

"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"

"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.

Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.

You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.

"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"

His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.

"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.

You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.

"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"

His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.

"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"

"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"

You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.

He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.

"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.

"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"

You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.

"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.

"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)

You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.

And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.

"Pedro, I know you're in there"

It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.

"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"

You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.

"We are fucked"

"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"

"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.

"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"

You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."

Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.

"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"

The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.

"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"

He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.

"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"

Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:

"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"

l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS

*i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.

[the-universal-sun]

If it's okay: Present day Ford crying his heart out? 👉👈

He went through so much, he deserves to be small and taken care of

Of course it’s okay! And I agree, Ford needs to be cuddles and coddled after all he’s been through!

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

Ford startles as a loud bang echoed out from outside the shack; flinching and covering his ears, dropping his Legos and Dr. Mittens. He pants, his chest feeling tight. ‘It can’t be’ he thinks to himself ‘I’m safe here. This is home, no one from those other dimensions can get here. Get me. Get my family.’ Despite these thoughts, his lips wobble and his eye sting with tears, what if someone came to hurt him? He can’t stop the cries that come from his mouth, his adult brain knows it’s probably just the trashcan lid falling, but he can’t think with his adult brain now. He’s feeling smaller now, his thoughts are smaller now. Logic and reasoning don’t always apply to his Big and Scary Thoughts.

“Ford, Buddy? You alright I heard-Ford! What happened!” Stan called out, his walk into the living room turning into a sprint when he sees Ford crying. “C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, huh? What hurts!?” Stan tries to calm his panicked voice, hovering frantically over Ford.

“Th-the-hic-the noise o-outside. C-coming to get me!” Ford wailed, turning and burying his head into Stan’s shoulder. One hand grabbing Dr. Mittens from the ground, the other going to pull his hair. His hand gets intercepted before it can do that, Stan pulling it away and holding it in one of his with a soft “please don’t” being uttered with the movement.

“Who’s coming to get you, Bud? Hmm? The noise was just Fidds’ raccoon wife getting into the trash can again, nothing more.” Stan doesn’t get it! Ford’s made so many enemies, someone is bound to come find him! He yanks on Stan’s hand in lieu on answering, finding it hard to find the right words to explain. Why can’t he just understand!

“Hey, we don’t yank or pull on limbs, Stanford. Come on, let’s dry those tears and calm down just a little okay? And then maybe you can explain what’s got you so scared.” Stan wraps an arm around Ford’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, repetitively patting Ford’s arm in an effort to help regulate his breathing.

He breathes in and out with Stan’s tapping, his panting slowing down but the tears still coming fast and hot down his face. He swallows the lump in his throat, clutching Dr. Mittens to his chest, resisting to urge to nibble his ear. “The-the bang noise. ‘Scared me an’ I thought it-it was someone from that time coming to hurt me again an’, an’,” he buries his head in his knees for a moment, Stan letting his, before he takes a big breathe and finishes his sentence, “An’ I got Big Thoughts, Scary ones that wouldn’t go away.” He finishes lamely, closing his eyes as his brother wipes his tears with his top. His nose scrunches up at the smell at Stan’s sweat.

“Oh, those capital ‘Big’ and ‘Scary’ thoughts, it must’ve been really bad, huh, Sixer. But don’t worry, we’ve checked just today, no inter dimensional anomalies or presences, our radar would’ve gone off if there were.” Oh. Ford didn’t think of that. He sniffles, huddling in closer to Stan, basically on his lap, resting his head into the side of his neck. This is why he needs Stan, he’s always there to chase away his Scarey Thoughts, and if chasing doesn’t work, punch them away. That’s why Stan’s his Buddy. The thought of Stan punching his literal thoughts away brings a giggle to Ford’s throat. And more spill out as Stan ruffles his hair.

“Oh? What’s so funny now, you laughin’ at this old man?” Stan points to himself.

“No-o-o-o!” Ford giggles, his hair being ruffled makes him feeling ticklish all over, “Buddy! ‘M not!” He laughs loudly as Stan falls over dramatically, Ford clutched in his arms. They lay there laughing for a good few minutes, Eventually settling down as Ford clings to Stan’s front, not wanting him to leave him.

“Stay, Buddy?” He asks Stan, using his best puppy dog eyes, a weakness of his brothers, but one he’s willing to exploit. And it works, Stan holds him tighter and closer, nuzzling his head and tickling it a little with his sigh.

“Of course, Sixer. As long as you want. We can even nap here-“ Ford cuts him off with an indignant “No” because he has his designated nap spot and it’s not on the living room carpet, it’s his little fort in his and Stan’s room. “Okay, no naps in here then, guess I’ll have to move my brittle old bones alllll the way to our room, huh?” Ford nods his head, glad Stanley got it. But he didn’t make any moves, content to just lay here, not quite all the way calm yet. Besides, he doesn’t have nap time for another hour and-he calculates in his head-seventeen minutes, plenty of time to lay in Stan’s arms on the living room floor.

“Alright, alright. I’ll move you when it’s nap time, just stay here in my arms until then, I need some Ford Floor Time.” Stan squeezes him tighter, Ford melting into the pressure. Well, he who was he to argue with Stan needing Ford Time? Signing, he basks softly in the calming presence of his brother for the next hour-and-now-16 minutes.

[stay-midnight]

Crimes in the Sheets

Synopsis: After dating for around 5 months, Seungmin thinks his sexual fantasies about you are going a bit too rampant for him to control, but somehow your phone seems more important than him.

Kim Seungmin x Male Reader

• Requested by Anon √

• Word #: 2.9K

• Warnings/Kinks: Dom/Top Kim Seungmin, Sub/Bot Male Reader, Porn Without Plot, Degradation, Praises, Corruption(?) not really, Fisting, Fingering, Breeding, Sexual Fantasies, Petnames, Mutual Masturbation, Teasing, Edging, Overstimulation, Hazy Sex, First Time w/ Seungmin (Not in a virgin-type way), Drooling, Choking, Marking, Hickeys, Unsafe Sex (Wear something to protect the erect), Aftercare, Love Showering, Kissing, Make-out, Tongue in Mouth, Seungmin is jealous of a phone. • A/N: My first fic after 10 months! (Uh- Just I hope the writing is okay cuz I have probably gotten a bit too rusty) Also corruption is not that present(?) I'm sorry anonnie who requested it! It just that I couldn't wrap my head around on how to write it... ;-; But I hope this is enough to satiate all the Seungmin stans that were waiting for a fic! (God knows you all deserve more fics...!)

Tippy-taps were the only sounds really audible in the mute atmosphere, Seungmin eyed you while pretending to scroll on his phone while you were too busy to notice as you were fiddling with your own device.

Seungmin sighs once, his voice echoing around the room before his eyes dragged over to you to see your reaction. Seungmin wanted to pout when he saw that you didn't even turn your head.

You were still focused on your phone, getting absorbed into whatever social media you were scrolling through. Seungmin was getting a bit annoyed, you two were suppose to hang out and be lovey-dovey like all couples would but here you are showing him how hyper-fixated you can be.

Seungmin sighs a second time, this time he wasn't only side-eyeing you he was full-on giving you his blank-stare. His eyes twitched slightly when he saw you smile at your handheld screen instead.

Your boyfriend's nerves irked slightly and decided to scoot closer to you.

He peeked at what you were looking at and saw that you were scrolling through Instagram and laughing slightly on some funny pictures.

Ah. So that's what is more important than me, he thought.

He wanted to divert your attention, so he eyed you for an idea.

Then it clicked, his face slowly morphed into a cute little grin.

Seungmin placed his hand on your thigh with a glint in his eyes but you just hummed when he did that, placing your head on his shoulder as you scroll through your feed.

His hands were getting antsy, so was something down there as he remembered the dreams he had about you all the time that inevitably causes him to wake up in morning sweat as well as soaked underwear.

He licked his lips as he turned his head to look down at you, still occupied. He raised his shoulder a bit as a signal to remove your head from his joint, to which you complied easily.

With excitement coursing through his veins, Seungmin started to lean into your neck, his lips touching your skin to which you responded with a small giggle at the ticklish sensation.

“Woah, there — lover boy.” You mused, your favorite nickname for him rolling off your tongue smoothly.

“What's gotten into you?”

No response as Seungmin rested his face on your neck while his hand on your thigh slowly trailed into your middle.

Seungmin kissed your soft skin with warmth despite the feeling of lust building inside him. You didn't expect this sudden shower of love from him, but you graciously accepted it as you laid your phone down on the sheets.

His lips trailed from your neck to your jaw as he kissed it lightly, you closed your eyes and savored the feeling of his supple lips.

“The things I want to do to you, jagi...” He whispers hotly against your ear, then in a sudden flash — your positions changed from sitting side by side to him pinning you down the bed with his hands beside your head.

This shocked you of course, Seungmin does not look like someone who would be this domineering. With widened eyes you respond to his early statement with a light breath. “Seung..?”

“This phone seems more important to me huh?” He gawped, tossing the aforementioned device into the nightstand.

Then it hit you — after hearing his words. Deep inside, you wanted to laugh at the fact that this puppy is jealous of your phone. Seungmin noticed as he watched your expression closely, you were on the verge of laughter. He didn't like it one bit as he glared at you eye-to-eye, all thoughts of laughing faded like the wind.

The position was not family-friendly at all as Seungmin leaned down to connect both of your lips, you were familiar with kissing him as you do it all the time anyway but something about this certain kiss was different it had... more flare in a way. Without a word exchanged, Seungmin's tongue dived first into your mouth causing a muffled sound out of you.

By no means were you a virgin but in the 5 months with Seungmin, you had never had actual sex...

Seungmin's hands creeped up your shirt, while your own gripped the side of his body, you tried hard to reciprocate in the mouthful kiss but you weren't experienced at it while Seungmin seemed relaxed and confident as he shoved the muscle down your wet cavern.

He pulled away as a long trail of saliva was made, you were breathless and dizzy already but Seungmin wasn't done it seems.

His hands inside your shirt pinched a nub, causing it to be hard and erect, your muscle tensed slightly at the sensation.

“God.. Y/N, you look so pretty like this.” he curses as his mouth dives into your neck once again, to adorn it with purple blooms and to reap more sounds out of your innocent mouth.

“Seung, fuck... yeah, that feels so so g-good.”

His hand stopped massaging your left nub and switched to your right, stimulating it to the point that you felt yourself getting harder by the minute. You tilted your head back as Seungmin kissed down your neck, down to your collarbone.

Now, impatience was waning the atmosphere — Seungmin started rutting his hips into your thighs, the glide of his hard-on was hard to miss. Seungmin couldn't help but pull back to remove his shirt — his full lean torso was a sight for a split second before he started to remove your own shirt — raising your arms and tilting your head back.

At first, you were reluctant to show skin but Seungmin immediately removed that, “Fucking beautiful for me, jagi” he mumbles in a soft tone.

“I–I hate you.” you stutter out, trying to hide that underlying smile with your palm — your heart was drumming so fast, it was louder than sound of the AC in the corner

Seungmin tore his eyes away from your chest before landing on your covered face — he guided your blocking hand away, noticing every single detail and appreciating every inch of you.

His touch burned red wherever his fingertips landed, like hot wax melting over you — that tingling sensation rose as well as the butterfly flying in your stomach as cliché it may sound like.

You decided to get a little bit brave as your hands gripped Seungmin's shorts before dragging it over to the tent in his short as a subtle moan flew through Seungmin's lips.

“You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Y/N — I wanna ruin you like this.” His voice mesmerizes you as you couldn't help but squeeze his erection a few times.

“Yeah?” you ask in awe as you relax underneath him.

He nods.

Seungmin started to grind into your hand while he bit your nipples, ravaging it like a last meal while your own hard-on was getting uncomfortable against your last pieces of clothing.

Your boyfriend wanted to go little-by-little and enjoy the moment before the high, a little maniacal grin clouds over his expression at the different possible thoughts flowing through his brain which was unbeknownst to you.

He stills for a moment, leaving you to catch your breath as he grabs something under the cushion of his bed.

You didn't even manage to get a glimpse of it before he pounces back to you, item in hand.

“Jagi, if you ever feel it's too much.. Just say the word, "Chocolate" alright?” He proffered, staring you down before kissing your lips.

“Okay.. Okay,” you breathed out, relaxing your nerves. Seungmin drags your pants down, your underwear following soon after — your legs closed instinctively but Seungmin pried it open, his attention on your expression for any discomfort.

You faltered for a bit but allowed him to do so.

Seungmin popped open the cap of the item he was holding as he towered over your body, then you felt something soft against your lips once again as you returned his kiss with want as well.

He positions your body so that your ass was more accessible to him, his fingers that were moist with something teased your puckered hole.

“Please, Seungmin — just quick..!” You assert when Seungmin pulled away from your swollen lips.

“You aren't in control here–not after ignoring me, my little slut.” Your eyes widened at the nickname, but at the same time — your dick twitched and Seungmin couldn't help but smile as he noticed that.

“So you like that huh?” He mocks.

“N-No..” you countered, only for him to shove two fingers immediately in your hole, the burning feeling making you bite back a moan.

He leans down towards your ear, his voice deepening, “I hear that now, but later — you'll be nothing but like a cumsock.” A

A shudder passed your whole body at the way he worded it, the head of your cock burned with each passing second without stimulation. “Seung, fuck...”, you cursed before he hit something with his digits that made your toes curl up in pleasure.

“Sir. Call me sir, slut.” he insists as a breath leaves your lips.

“Wh-Wha— N— Fuck!” you swore as he pressed his long fingers hard on a sensitive spot

A moan left you as he kept abusing a certain spot inside of you. Seungmin pulls his finger out, ripping a whine from you.

“Sir, fuck– Sir please..!” You begged, struggling helplessly as Seungmin watched your cock bounce while you thrust upwards to no avail.

“That's right, baby boy–God, you look so hot like this”

Seungmin's sweet praises rang in your ear like strings being strummed on a guitar, like light chords and tunes going in one ear then out the other. Seungmin's free hand wandered back into your chest, thumb massaging an erected bud as he took off his shorts with one hand. You couldn't tear your gaze away from his cock, pretty pink lush on the tip with veins popping on the side — size didn't matter for you but god that looked bigger than you thought.

Your boyfriend's face showed a condescending grin as he noticed your staring, his ego inflating over the edge.

A gasp shot out of your mouth as soon as Seungmin's hand wrapped both around your cocks, the friction of his cock against yours as well as Seungmin's hand was pure bliss, and you couldn't help but thrust your hips up and chase the pleasure.

Seungmin watched as your own pre-cum was enough to coat both of your cocks evenly—he let out a groan, finding your neediness hot.

You set up a faster pace — you were basically fucking his hand at this point — desperation clings to your raspy breaths as you chase that inevitable high but of course Seungmin had other ideas than to end his fantasies in such a short-lived way.

He pulls his hand away much to your disappointment.

“Wh-Why... Seu–Sir, god— H-Hand...” You babbled endlessly, your hand lingering over both your cocks wanting to release but Seungmin tsks at your disobedience. He grabs your free hands and pins it up your head—he wouldn't let you do as you please that easily.

A whine escaped your throat, still helplessly thrusting upwards and struggling against his grip — gaining pleasure from the friction of Seungmin's cock against yours, his dick resting just above your own.

“Disobedient slut, aren't you?” He says monotonously with a scowl on his face.

He hikes your legs up as you look up at him teary-eyed.

Your ass was fully exposed to him as he positioned his cock against your pulsating entrance — your breath caught in your throat as you felt the head of his dick prod your rim but not pushing in at all.

You awaited the oncoming onslaught but Seungmin was not about to let you feel that gratification that easily.

With a grin, he leans down to mouth at your neck as he keeps his cock at bay — like withholding food from a hungry man.

Your hips sink down against his hard cock with want but doesn't do anything except make Seungmin's cock glide against the crack of your ass — he grins, knowing you were at the verge of breaking which was what he wanted in the first place. To break you as a punishment.

Seungmin's hand couldn't help but wander to your neglected cock — as to add insult to injury; he jerks it off, once or twice as a tease and that was it for you.

A sob left your mouth as you relaxed into the bed, mind too hazy to notice.

A chuckle emerged from your boyfriend as he shoved his entire cock into you in one go, moaning lowly at the feeling of your walls against his sensitive dick.

“Fuck, so tight—just for me.”

“Mm, sirrr...” You said empty-headed in response, his cock reaching and hitting places that made you quiver in total euphoric pleasure, he was leaking inside you — already coating your walls while languidly rutted inside you, his speed increasing by the minute.

“Good fucking slut.” he gruffly babbles, palm squeezing your thighs intensely— for sure to leave red hand marks in the aftermath.

Seungmin was sure to hit your prostate, multiple times — milking it for what it's worth and creating that onset feeling within your abdomen.

Moans, gurgles and the creaking of the wooden bed were the only sounds bouncing off his apartment's walls, for sure — Seungmin's neighbors are gonna be angry at him, the next day.

“Close, jagi?” he asks roughly, as he pulls your hips back onto his cock — making you feel every inch of him.

You nod twice, drool escaping from your swollen lips as every glide of Seungmin's cock against your walls continues the building orgasm.

On instinct, Seungmin moves his hand up your body and wraps it around your neck — your breath catching on your throat at the restriction. Seungmin slams his cock inside you with vigor, his balls hitting the cleft of your ass cheek at the power of his thrusts. Your eyes rolls back at your airways being blocked as you

With one last hit towards your prostate — you spurt your release untouched with a scratchy moan.

You gasp against Seungmin's chokehold as white comes out of tip like an endless stream, electric shock coursing through your body at the intensity.

Seungmin's hand leaves a print on your neck as he pulls away, air finally filling your lungs desperately.

Seungmin is in awe of your fucked-out expression and couldn't help but reach for your cock that was dribbling with cum — he jerks it off in rhythm with his erratic thrust, fucking you through your orgasm as all you could do was whine as you reached out to touch Seungmin's chest, finger catching on his nipples.

Seungmin welcomes the extra stimulation on his lean body, his thrust going faster and harder until and with the release of Seungmin's held breath, his hips stilling as he soils your insides with white, thick release.

He breathes heavily as he slumps on top of you — your chest touching and sticky with your fluid. “Mmm, Seung— heavy, get off me.” You mumble, clenching around him with a groan.

Seungmin laughs bubbly, “Still not done, baby boy.” He whispers, pulling out of your slick hole with a pop, his cum gently streaming out of your rim before he positions his finger back in, one digit then comes two.

“Mmm...”

“Like that?” Seungmin says, motioning his wrist perfectly to that sensitive spot.

“A-Ah.. Yeah...” You confirm with a modest nod, enjoying the pleasure from Seungmin's long fingers.

Two fingers shortly turn to three as Seungmin shoves his digits inside your cum-slicked hole — loving the way you clench and stiffen at the feeling.

A few minutes passed as Seungmin played with your hole to yours and to his surprise — he added another finger, then the last until your hole managed to fit his whole fist in.

“Fuck, you're so loose from me, jagi.” He comments as he thrust his entire fist inside you as you let out trembling breaths at the burning stretch. Seungmin manages to get it in up until his wrist before he stills his hand inside of you, your chest heaved before he finally pulls his whole hand out — your hole unclenching as Seungmin's cum drips out.

Seungmin immediately straightens his body and peppers your face with soft kisses, you exhale shakily — gripping into Seungmin's bicep as you let him shower you with love. “You were so good, so good for me—jagi, so pretty.”

Though your entire body ache from a passionate and rough time, you smiled up at your lover, “Yeah, yeah—lover boy.” You mumble through closed lashes, feeling a bit cloudy still as Seungmin touches your parts of your body that he marked up fondly.

“Good?” he asks attentively.

“Yeah, was' fun.”

“Need anything, love?”

“Nope, just sleep...” you grumble, exhausted from the 'activity'.

“Better rest up, cuz we still have lots to continue later~ Oh- and I'm confiscating your phone.” He says with a tooth-eating grin, you rolled your eyes at that — grabbing the nearest pillow and hitting him straight in the cheek as he reaches for your phone.

“Hey— Ow!”

You laughed loudly, as you stood up and ran with a limp towards the kitchen area.

“Oh no you didn't— Get the fuck ba—”Seungmin cuts himself off by tripping on the blanket.

Your annoying laugh echoed at Seungmin's misfortune but when Seungmin gets his hands on you... Hmm, there's no telling.

[veryblushyswitch]

THE FAMILY EVER!! 😭💖💖💖 They care about each other so much I can’t- The way Mabel gives him a stuffed animal to cuddle at the end!! Hello that is so fucking cute!!! 🥺💖

Hello, Hello!

This is the first fanfic I have ever ever written!! Isn't that cool?

Just so you know, this is a fanfic about tickling, so if you dislike that then please don't interact!

Lers: Grunkle Stan, Mabel

Lee: Dipper

"Give it back!!"

That was the first thing Grunkle Stan heard that morning. Judging by the screechy girlish nature of the voice...it was probably Dipper. it was just a little too girly to be Mabel. It was too early for this. Only thirty minutes past noon, we're they trying to take away his beauty sleep or something? It was probably some pointless argument that could be settled with less than a paragraph anyway...may as well check on them. He knew how big stupid fights could get between siblings.

"Oh c'mon..."

He groaned, sitting up and cracking his back before dragging himself downstairs. There he saw the sight of the problem: the journal. Mabel was holding it above her head, running around while trying her darn hardest to convince him into taking a break.

"Oh come on Dipper! Just for one day! Take a break, you'll be fine!"

"I can't take a break! We don't know everything that's out there! Give it back!"

Right before he tried to snatch it, she pulled away, running up to Grunkle Stan. Her and Dipper ran circles around him, who was barely processing what was happening in his sleepy un-caffeinated state, groaned and grabbed Dipper by the back of his jacket.

"Look kiddo, shooting star here is right. You keep your nose stuffed in that book 24/7, you'll give yourself bad eye sight like me."

Dipper fought against his grip, trying to tug himself away while shooting Mabel a half hearted glare.

"But I still have things to be doing! Grunkle Stan you don't get it! I need the journal back!"

Stan groaned and thought for a moment or two. How was he supposed to work this out between the two? Especially when he wasn't entirely awake, nonetheless. He knew a few tactics that tired Dipper out, but judging by the chaos he was woken up to, no, he had to go big or go home.

"Mabel, hide the journal somewhere and meet me in the living room with your brother."

"What?! But Grunkle Stan!-"

"No buts! You wake me up over something stupid? You'll learn not to."

Without letting Dipper really process those words, Mabel already running off to hide the book, Stan brought Dipper to the living room by the arm. He sat down and gripped both his shoulders, making eye contact and speaking in a serious yet concerned and somewhat soft tone.

"Look kid, you're too young to be worried about this whole...cryptid thing. I understand you have a nack for it, but take a break why don't ya?"

Dipper avoided eye contact for a few moments before nodding, giving a soft sigh and looking up at him again. He felt bad for causing his Grunkle stress, but he just had to find out what was going on with Gravity Falls.

"I'm almost a teenager though, and I know I can handle it! Please, I have so many things that I'm close to solving, I can't just...take a break now!"

"He can't even take a shower!"

Mabel chimed in, skipping from the doorway over to the two and looking at Grunkle Stan. He decided that enough was enough, it was time to make him relax, even if it was by forcing him into exhaustion.

He suddenly took two of Dippers wrists in one hand, taking off his hat since he'd probably squirm so much it fell off anyway. He then gave him a serious look, though it quickly turned into more of a mischievous smirk than anything as he raised his other hand, wiggling his fingers at him.

"You've been so busy with that book that I've practically forgotten what your laugh sounds like...Mabel sweetie? Get his ribs."

"WHAT-?!"

he went bright red in the face and nervously squeaked, leaning away from the hand that Stan was slowly moving towards his belly. He bit his lip, but it failed to cover the nervous yet giddy smile slowly forming.

"Oooh, gladly!"

His sister joining in too? That just wasn't fair! He'd probably be dead by the end of this. He leaned forward and away from her hands, only to yelp as he bumped his stomach against Stan's hand. He gave a soft burst of giggles and jerked back, only to find his ribs being spidered across by Mabel's fingers.

"MAahahahabehel!!"

He protested, trying to move away from her only to find his Grunkle's hand was still there waiting for him to do just that. He felt like a fly in a spiders web, and the idea of getting that journal back today wasn't looking good either...

Eventually both hands had closed in on him. One was scribbling all over his belly and occasionally jumping to his side to catch him off guard, while two more hands were running up and down his ribs and digging into the spaces in between. He let out multiple loud and embarrassingly girly shrieks, laughing his head off and trying to tug both arms down to no avail.

"WAHAahahahait- Gruhuhunkle Stahahan!! Thihis isn't fahahair!"

"Yeah well life ain't fair kiddo. You're taking a nap."

"I'm nohot evehen tihihirehed!!"

"You will be after this!"

Mabel suddenly shot back, moving her hands to his back and wiggling her fingers against his spine. One went up and down it rapidly while the other focused on where it met the neck, making him scrunch his shoulders up and snort a few times from laughing so hard.

"NONONOHONOnOHOHhohohooo!!- not theheRE!! Snrk- MAHABAHAL!!"

He squealed out, kicking his legs since his arms were still trapped, a wide smile stuck across his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel his face burning bright red from the embarrassment of the situation, but it actually did feel kind of nice to relax like this for once...

He quickly regretted ever starting to enjoy it as he felt his shirt get lifted up, followed by Grunkle Stan picking him up and snickering down at him. He took a deep inhale before pressing his lips to his stomach, blowing a long raspberry against the skin. He flinched slightly at the shriek that Dipper produced, but managed to tune it out after a few seconds.

"GHAAAAHhhahaha!!- hic- NAHAHAH!! GRUAHAHANKAHAL-!!"

He shrieked out, pushing at his shoulders and head now that his arms were free while trying to squirm out of his lap. The bit of facial hair mixed with the raspberrys were driving him up the wall within seconds, and it didn't help that Mabel decided to start scratching at the hollows behind his knees.

He let out loud, high pitched cackles, repeatedly snorting and hiccuping whenever he attempted to take a break. Tiny tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his face scrunched up with how hard he was laughing. He started to get really wheezy, his brain shutting off for the most part due to being tickled senseless.

He kept laughing for maybe another minute or so, and despite really wanting to work on that journal yet again, he had his limits. He patted the back of Stans head, barely managing to speak through his own laughter.

"I'LL REHEST!! Ihihi'll rehehehehest pleEAHAHAA-!!!"

Him, who was already out of breath himself from blowing so many raspberries back to back, pulled his head away and let Dipper relax. Mabel gave a victorious grin and ruffled her twins hair, leaning on the seat while looking down at him.

"I knew you would! Come on, let's go to bed. I'll help you make your bed, it's a mess."

He only mumbled in response, still decently giggly from the tickle attack he was just forced through. After regaining his bearings, he managed to stand up, hugging himself and smiling at the two.

"Yeah yeah, okay..."

He considered saying something, but decided against it. They didn't need to know he actually had enjoyed that...as if they couldn't tell already though. He gently hugged Stan for a moment, yawning as he spoke due to being worn out.

"Good night, Grunkle Stan!"

"Night kiddo."

He fondly smiled back at him, ruffling his hair before breaking off the hug. He watched Mabel and Dipper leave to go upstairs, sighing before shutting his eyes. He'd probably just crash on the couch since he was still tired, but at least Dipper was gonna rest too. That put him at ease.

Mabel finished fixing his bed up for him, gently pulling a blanket back so he could lie down under it. He curled up under the blanket and gave a soft, content sigh, hugging a plushie Mabel let him borrow for the night. He shut his eyes, mumbling a soft "thank you" to Mabel, then slowly starting to doze off.

He smiled as he felt her ruffle his hair, the feeling helping his brain shut off into a peaceful sleep. He had the rest of summer to work, which still wasn't exactly a whole lot of time, but...maybe just...one day would be fine to rest. Not like he could or wanted to get out of bed now anyway.

He'd get back at Grunkle Stan and Mabel for this though.

[starlightrosa]

Mabel Pines, Journal Thief

With thanks to @gravityfallsaddict124 for this utterly adorable prompt! Always wanted to write for Gravity Falls, so I do hope this is well-received!

Summary: All Dipper wanted to do was read his journal before bed. But Mabel had other plans. At least Dipper knows how to make Mabel give it back.

A/N: Much platonic, most wow. Also Dipper's a little mean in this one, so read with caution if you're in a lee mood :D

Word Count: 1.6k

Enjoy <3

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

It had been a weird and wonderful day in Gravity Falls, like usual. In the aftermath of the latest crazy hijinks, featuring an innocent task of dealing with the gnomes on the front lawn of the Mystery Shack due to their Grunkle Stan’s complaints about the short and bearded misters appearing and terrifying the paying customers, the plan was for Dipper to read through his journal quietly until he had to sleep. Until…

“Ugh! Mabel, give me it back!” Dipper implored, even as he chased his twin sister around the Mystery Shack. Mabel giggled as she was still racing around the home, Journal #3 held tight in her hands.

“Gotta catch me first, Dipper!” Mabel crowed. “I’m on five ultra-shots of Mabel Juice, you’ll never get this journal off of me, little brother!”

“Ugh! Mabel, come on! This isn’t funny!” Dipper said, getting annoyed. Why did Mabel have to do this…? How was he going to catch his sister and get his journal back? Dipper then thought of something. Dipper knew he was ticklish, and twins had a higher chance to share their weaknesses. Which meant…!

“Oh, Mabel! I’m gonna getcha~!” came the crooning call from Dipper. Mabel’s feet screeched to a halt, enough to Dipper to lunge forth and grab her, taking his sibling to the floor. Mabel gasped and looked up, to see Dipper’s hands gripping her wrists and pulling them over her head.

“What?!” Mabel asked, giggling nervously as she tried wriggling out, but there was no give. Dipper grinned.

“I did ask nicely, Mabel. But since you won’t give back what belongs to me, I’ll just make you give it back.” Dipper said, his fingers not ceasing their wiggling as he slowly lowered those digits down to Mabel’s sides.

Mabel closed her eyes, giggling freely. But when no tickles came, she peeked one eye open and looked to Dipper, who smirked above her.

“Whahahat are you doing? Just dohoho it, Dihihipper!” Mabel complained. But Dipper chuckled and shook his head in response, not letting his twin turn her sight away from the ever wiggling digits.

“I’m gonna get ya good, Mabel. You know I will.” Dipper continued, enjoying Mabel’s quiet and nervous laughter way more than he probably should. “And I’m not gonna stop the tickles you’re gonna get until you’re crying…”

Mabel’s cheeks burned red and she did her best to turn her head away from Dipper.

“Oh, right. I forgot how the word makes you blush.” Dipper chuckled. “Does it make you feel tingly, Mabel?”

Mabel’s anticipatory smile was so wide by now, one could assume it almost looked painful. But the stubborn girl held herself together as best as she could, despite Dipper’s teasing croons that were working wonders to stir her nerves up.

“D-Dip… we can talk about this. From one twin to another…” Mabel stuttered, trying to bargain her way out of her impending doom. Dipper’s mischievous grin widened, as did Mabel’s own, but more from a nervous standpoint rather than a mischief-laced one.

“Nothing to talk about, Mabel.” Dipper responded. “Revenge is sweet.” he said, before his wiggling digits finally landed and took off along Mabel’s stomach, pinching along her lower stomach. For Mabel, to finally get her tickles Dipper promised was a bit like a twisted blessing. No more anticipation, cause she was never the best at handling that anyway.

But now Mabel’s senses were overwhelmed with maddening tickles inflicted by her cheeky twin brother, her mind overcome with only one recurring thought: “It tickles, it tickles, it tickles, it tickles, it tickles!”

And poor Mabel shrieked before she fell into hysteric giggles, pushing at Dipper’s hands the best that she could.

“D-DIPPER! NOHOHOHO!!!!” Mabel squealed, the girl lost in a world of near-musical laughter that was a delight to hear.

“No? No, no tickles here?” Dipper asked, smiling.

Mabel shook her head, the girl trying her best to plead, but to Dipper, it just sounded like a mix of pleas and nonsensical words that Mabel made up, none of which could be made to be articulate by anyone, no matter the level of their IQ. But let’s be honest… not like Dipper was going to end his fun too early.

“You think I’ll let go? Not happening, Mabel. Not yet, anyway. Maybe I should go right here~!” Dipper said, moving his ticklish touch to flip Mabel over. His fingers began to spider along Mabel’s back, tickling softly down her spine and squeezing right the way back up.

Mabel was squeaking like a mouse on the run from Grunkle Stan with a broom, laughing into the carpet below, her fists weakly banging into the soft plush fabric. “N-NOHOHOHOT THERE EITHER, DIPPER!”

Oh, as for Dipper? He was having the time of his life right now. “Well, where then, Mabel? Where should I go? Can’t leave any tickle spot of yours unchecked, have to be efficient. Come on, pick somewhere for me.”

Thank goodness that Dipper wasn’t able to see Mabel’s face at the present moment, because Mabel was pretty sure if she went into one of the gnome craters from earlier, buried the soil up to her head and closed her eyes, she could pass for a very large tomato with how red her face was.

“I-I CAHAHAN’T!” Mabel attempted to argue, though it came out muffled from her face still stubbornly smashed into the carpet. Dipper sighed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna choose somewhere, Mabel… guess I’ll just have to go to that spot.” Dipper sighed, faking disappointment. And in that moment, Mabel Pines felt her blood turn to ice at the very implication of Dipper even touching that particular spot… which happened to be the entirety of her ribs.

“D-DON’T YOU DARE!” Mabel demanded, suddenly making a real attempt to escape. But Dipper’s hands were quicker, and he turned Mabel back over so she was now looking up at her cheeky twin brother.

“Oh, I dare. But if you just give me back my journal, this can stop.” Dipper encouraged, reaching down to take it. But Mabel simply shoved the journal under her sweater, and then she blew a raspberry at Dipper in response, giggling at his grumbled response.

“You little…” Dipper mumbled, before his confidence came back. “Oh, you’re gonna wish you didn’t do that, Mabel.”

Mabel’s confidence wavered as she felt a weight settle across her legs. And one simple look provided her with the reason: Dipper had made himself comfortable and held her hands in one of his own, while the other was inching her sweater and shirt up. The journal sat on top of her bare stomach, and Dipper took the book out of harm’s way, resting his freed hand on Mabel’s ribs.

Mabel’s breath caught in her throat, and a barely repressed squeak left her tightly-zipped lips as she felt Dipper’s nails stationary near the very ticklish bones. Dipper grinned. He knew just how ticklish Mabel was here, but he couldn’t resist a little more verbal teasing. His fingers made torturously slow circles on her ribs as he spoke.

“This spot is my favourite. You know that, Mabel? I can do anything I want here, at any pace I want. Soft tickles make you a little giggle-train, but if I blow a raspberry here, or count every ticklish rib you have… well, you can shriek so loud, you’d make someone think you’re being murdered. I don’t know if you could make Sheriff Blubs or Deputy Durland hear you from here, but it wouldn’t surprise me one bit.” Dipper recalled.

Mabel groaned through her barely-repressed snickers. “Yeah, yeah.”

Dipper waited a few moments more, and when he felt the tension ease from Mabel’s body, he struck. He pressed his hands on her ribs and delivered a series of rapid fire pokes and pinches, making sure to massage the spaces between the bones to pull the best reactions out of his ticklish twin sister.

And Dipper got the reactions from Mabel immediately. The poor girl fell into shrieking cackles at once. Her ribs were overcome with tingles, and it was driving Mabel absolutely mental.

“D-DIHIHIHIPPER! NOHOHOHO-! I CAHAHAHAN’T-! THAHAHAHAT TIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAHAD, DIP!” Mabel managed to press out through her hysterical laughter.

“Man, you’re loud.” Dipper murmured, adding Mabel’s hips to the already very ticklish mix. Mabel’s laughter went much more silent, the feeling of both of her bad tickle spots at once completely throwing her into silence, much to Dipper’s amusement.

“That’s much better. If I knew both of your good spots earlier, I could’ve saved myself so many headaches.” Dipper joked. “Have you gotten more ticklish or something, Mabel? Cause I’m pretty sure you have.”

Mabel was truly stuck right now. Tears glistened in her eyes, and her stomach was beginning to hurt from all this laughing. She coughed through her waning giggles, and Dipper heard it.

“Say sorry and I’ll stop.” Dipper said, slowing his tickles down so Mabel could actually speak, but not stopping just yet, waiting patiently as Mabel caught her breath, Dipper having traced slow circles on her stomach while he waited for her to speak.

It took Mabel a while, but eventually she managed to get it out. “Ah… m’sorry, Dip…”

“Okay, good. And you promise that you won’t take my journal again?” Dipper asked. Mabel nodded. Dipper hummed, not quite satisfied with that answer. His traces picked up ever so slightly, to a muffled squeak from Mabel again.

“Gonna need verbal confirmation there, Mabel.” Dipper said. Mabel groaned but she eventually gave in.

“Alright, alright. I… I promise.” Mabel responded. And Dipper grinned.

“And you also say that I’m the best brother in the whole world and you’re lucky to have me?”

Mabel groaned loudly. “D-Dipper!”

Dipper finally stopped his fingers and helped Mabel up, dusting her sweater down.

“If you try this again, Mabel… what I did just now is going to seem merciful.” Dipper stated, taking his journal into his arms and leaving to their shared room to read in peace.

Mabel stood alone in this room for now. As she left the room soon after Dipper, one thing remained in her mind.

“I am so taking that dumb book again.”

[sharkinthetoilet]

Butters, Kyle,Stan, Kenny and Creek(Craig and Tweek poly all the other 's seperate) x a GN s/o that all of a sudden tickle's them and won't stop, but if they get caught they try to run away

reader who tickles their s/o

gender: neutral

warnings: none! pure fluff

☆-butters:

is super duper ticklish

in fact, soft kisses tickle him already

so a lot of things count as tickling

but if you purposefully tickle him it's another story

the second he get's the chance to, he'll try to tickle you back

And tickle you he will

No mercy

He loves to hear you laugh anyways

Not much to say here, but he loves tickle fights

☆-kyle:

Not very ticklish

Actually there is only one place, where he's ticklish

On his sides, right above his hips

Sometimes when you kiss and accidentally brush your hand there, he'll start laughing into the kiss

Since you found that out, you abused that power

He is generally weak towards you, so often time he won't fight you

If he dows fight you, he doesn't hold back

You can't run, mfer's legs are to long

If he starts to tickle you, there is seemingly no end

Good luck, you'll need it

☆-stan:

Isn't ticklish, but loves tickling you

Has no chill

(I talked abt this in my first request ever)

Pins you down to tickle you

Realises how this looks

Get's super duper embarrased

There isn't much to say

He's very easily startled, so getting him off quickly, should be easy

☆-kenny:

Is also pretty ticklish

Get's all pouty if you tickle him

"But babe, that wasn't fair, you snuck up behind me-"

Takes every chance to tickle you

Also blows on your skin, when you cuddle

Like those super light blows, that tickle a little bit

Knows every place you're ticklish at

You also can't flee

If he gets his hand on you, you're doomed

He isn't forgiving

Because he loves hearing you laugh

Will stop, if he feels like you can't breath

Then you tickle him, therefore, once again not breaking the circle

☆-creek:

Tweek isn't ticklish

BUT, craig is

Super ticklish infact

He hates being tickled

He'll be so pissed

Both you and tweek gang up on him

can and will bite your finger

If you turn the tables, though..

Tweek won't save you, sorry

Craig is definitley, even after being torture by you, very careful

Stops when you tell him to

Will occasionally convince tweek to tickle you, if he's the one nearer to you

Tweek is even softer than craig

Both are very sweet, not really good for fair fights

[the-universal-sun]

Okay I just thought of something what if Stan regressed after getting his memory waist, because even though everything of Stanley Pines got a waste his mind still knew deep down that the headspace was healing so doing the most mentally traumatic thing that ever happened to him in his life his brain request to his age basically I want to Stanley with no memories

Sorry it took so long to get this out, I got hit by a bout of massive writer's block, but I got through it okay. Deep apologies for how late this is @pinkyshy10 and my other wonderful anon, I know this was requested back in December, but I hope you enjoy reading this! I hope I encapsulated your visions when writing, please let me know if I was off the mark, though! But thank you so so very much for your requests! I enjoyed writing it so much! Fun Fact: I've never watched Treasure Planet before, but it does seem super interesting, so I might give it a try along with the other movies you lovely people suggested that Stan, Ford, and Fiddleford may watch when Little. Please enjoy reading!

And as always, I'm open to helpful comments and critiques on my writing!

Stay warm!

XX

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Stan...

His name is Stan. He knows this, he was told this. But, it feels true, his name is Stan, he's a great uncle to Dipper and Mabel and the twin brother to Ford. His memories aren't all there, very little are, in fact. His niece, Mabel, her scrapbook helped him some, he can remember the summer and the fond emotions attached to the memories. To most of the memories. The brief ones with the man...with Stanford bring an ache to his chest, but he hopes the more he remembers him, the happier the memories will be.

Stan fumbles around in his room, trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings, half formed memories helping him along and silently guiding his steps. He's looking for something, he thinks as he scratches his head, the Fez having been taken off and set aside, something important. But he doesn't know what. More accurately, he can't remember what. He looks around his room again, trying to see if something stands out to him when he spots a lump under the covers of his bed. He grabs the edges of his comforter and pulls it back, revealing a old looking stuffed bear, looking closely he sees it's wearing a little sweater vest. Cute. Is this something he kept from his childhood or something? It's not like he would remember.

He picks up the bear delicately. No, he knows this bear, the memories are there, right in his reach. Ah, this is a gift he got when he was a young man. This is Poindexter, what a nerdy name. Stan sits on the edge of the bed, carefully cradling his stuffy, the action making his head start to go fuzzy. Not bad, not how it is when he's remembering things, but a pleasant sort of fuzzy, one that relaxes his body, making him gently rock back and forth on the edge of the bed. This is nice, he distantly thinks, bringing the teddy up to rub to his and rubbing the ears against his lips. He laughs at the ticklish feeling that brings. He does that for a long time, rocking and rubbing his teddy against his mouth before he grows bored, standing up and stretching. What should he do? He hums and taps his hands as he thinks, he'll go see if there's any cartoons playing this late. Stan doesn’t quite know why he wants cartoons, but nothing else appeals to him right now. He grabs the first blanket he sees, a hand-stitched quilt with teddy bears on the edges, and trudges off downstairs.

The living room is still a mess when he gets there, but the tv is plugged and still works, so Stan settles down in front of it, Poindexter and the blankie-blanket from his room in his lap. He turns the dials over and over again, but he can't find anything bedsides stupid commercials and the news. He's getting more and more annoyed, his breathing going heavy and his mumbling growing louder and louder. He doesn't care about waking everybody up, he wants cartoons, but he's not seeing them. Stan is about to hit the glass in anger when he hears his brother's voice.

"Stanley? What are doing? It's late and you need to rest, you've especially had a long and trying day." Stanford spoke softly, voice confused.

"Cartoons." Stan replied, pointing of the tv it's the one word he can move his tongue around. Why does he find it hard to speak again? Oh yeah-

"What? Stanley there aren't any cartoons even on there." Ford said, confused and more than a little worried for his brother's mental state.

Oh yeah, there aren't any cartoons on. Which is the problem. Stan points to the tv again, staring at Ford. Will he help? Stan just wants to watch cartoons with his Teddy and Blankie and not think of memories or triangles or monsters, he just wants to let himself be-be. Be what? He looks at himself, soft pajamas with cars on them, his teddy bear quilt and Poindexter. His head feels fuzzy, but not as fuzzy as it can get-as he wants it to get. He wants to be-

Small. Ah. That's what it is, he remembers now. Not all of it, but most of it. Sometimes when everything is too much or too loud or too overwhelming, his mind goes smaller. Littler, the internet said he "regresses" and that it can help relax him. And it does, and he likes it, that fuzzy feeling and wanting nothing more than to color and cuddle with his teddy. Except for the times he gets really lonely, wanting his brother here with him. And he is here now, isn't he? And he said he'd take care of Stanley, so that must mean with this too, right? Does Ford know about this? Stan doesn't remember if he does or not, and he can't bring himself to ask, can't get his mouth to work. Instead he just keeps pointing to the tv and looking at is brother, he still wants to watch cartoons.

"Ah-alright, then, Stanley. I can help you find something?" Ford sounds like he's asking a question, sitting next to Stanley and tuning the dials on the box set-the remote was destroyed sometime during Weirdmaggedon. He finagles it with with more success, stopping to let each channel fix and find itself in between the static, having more patience than his brother in this regard. He's about 20 channels deep at this point when the staticky screens stabilizes to a cartoon unfamiliar to Ford, hazy as the screen is. He looks at the screen, it must be after his time, the animation different from what he knew of back in the 80s. What is it-

"Treasure Planet!" Stan loves this movie when he feels small. It has space pirates and ships that move in the sky! Stan especially loves it because it was based on his and Ford's favorite book growing up, Treasure Island, but much cooler because they were also in space. He excitedly pats the space next to him, Ford has to stay and watch this, he'd love it! Stan chants little "stay stay stay"s as he pats the carpet beside him, Ford slowly and softly easing down beside him, tugging gently on the corner of Stan's teddy blankie to cover him. He doesn't need to, because Stan huddles in close, practically on Ford's lap, and spreads the blanket over both of them, Poindexter still gripped in his hands.

Stan, now that he has his cartoons and has his brother, blankie, and Poindexter, is more than willing to let the fuzzy in his head take over, relaxing into Ford's side, bringing Poindexter's ear back up to his mouth-he's not gonna chew on it, just rub it on his lips, that's all. Like before.

"Treasure Planet, hmm? Sounds kind of like Treasure Island, do you remember that book, Stanley? It was our favorite-!" Stan slaps a hand over Ford's mouth to make him quiet-shushing someone was rude, said Ma', but Ford was talking and Stan didn't want to miss any of the movie-luckily it was just starting so he didn't miss much. He cuddles closer to his brother, wrapping his hand, now free after Ford removed it, around his twin's arm, practically crawling in his lap and rocking softly, easy rocking to help soothe his excitement. He loved Treasure Planet so much, and now Ford can watch it and love it, too, so he's extra excited!

"Okay, Okay, Stanley, I'll be quiet. Sorry." Ford softly whispered, starring at Stan, who was enraptured by the television screen, with a soft look that bordered on confusion, he doesn't exactly understand what's happening, and hopes it's not a side-affect of the memory gun. But Stanley seems to happy and relaxed, something he hasn't seen in near 40 years, so whatever his concerns are, they can wait until the morning. Ford settles down, wrapping an arm around Stanley, softly rubbing his back, and turns his attention back to the movie. It does seem very interesting.

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

hiii i was wondering if you could write ler 3racha and lee hongjoong from ateez? like the time they wrote a song all together, maybe they notice that hongjoong is really tired but isnt sleeping so they give him soft tickles to make him more tired. and yk those pens that give u an electric shock when you press them? what if like chan had one of those on his desk in his pen cup and so he used it on hongjoong like on his ribs to send tiny shocks to him??? PLSSSS AND THANK YOUUU I LOVE UR WRITING STYLE

𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1k

𝙖/𝙣: STAN STRAYTEEZ 😭💗🩷

𝙩/𝙬: soft tickling, use of electric pen (very softly), and lots of teasing

𝒍𝒆𝒆: hongjoong

𝙡𝙚𝙧: 3racha (chan, changbin, han)

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117 @minnielvrr

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 ���𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

The four men were hunched over Chan’s laptop, busy mixing up a new track and their focus was sharp and ready. 

Jisung hummed the tune every once in a while but other than that, no sound was made in the room, the silence comfortable as it echoed freely. 

Hongjoong was hunched over a notebook, looking at lyrics, but his usual enthusiasm seemed to be waning. 

“You okay?” Channie asked, patting at his fellow leaders’ shoulder as Changbin looked at the tired middle with sympathy. 

Joongie waved it off. “Yeah…just a bit tired.” He pursed his lips and continued to blink at the notebook, seemingly holding back sleep. 

“Let’s take a small break, hm?” Jisung announced, clapping his hands before standing up and sitting next to Hongjoong on the couch. 

Joongie hummed but continued to lock eyes with the writing on his page. “Let’s take five, hyung.” Hannie whispered again, and the older nodded and closed the book. 

“You look really tired…” Changbin commented meekly, but yet again, Hongjoong waved it off. “It’s fine, Binnie, just a bit sleepy as of late.”

“Well…maybe take a nap? We’ll be right here, Joong-ah.” Channie responded firmly, laying Hongjoong’s head against his chest and wrapping his arms around him gently. 

“Nono…that’s okay, hyung. Seriously, I’m fin—AH!!” He shrieked as Chan poked at his side to shut him up. 

“Oh? Is someone ticklish?” Channie cooed, and the others flushed at the teasing tone Chan had put on specifically for teasing purposes. “No…IM NOT AGH!!” He squealed again as Channie’s hand massaged into his side. “Cause it seems to me that someone is~” 

Hannie decided to help to wane his increasing lee mood, massaging into Hongjoong’s waist gently to elicit sweet giggles as the younger leader squirmed beneath their fingers. 

Changbin reached back and grabbed the electric pen, the one that normally helped keep Chan awake by sending tiny shocks through his fingers. 

“Nohohoho Ihihit’s tohohohoo muhuhuch!!” Poor Joongie giggled, frantic laughter pouring from him as Jisung moved to his belly, and Channie continued dragging his nails along his neck while holding him up by the chin. 

Changbin gently pressed the pen against Hongjoong’s ribs, calculating for a while where to keep it before gently pressing the small button that sent the shock. 

“Aaahhh nooooo!!” Hongjoong squealed and tried to slide down Channie’s hold, but the older leader held steadfast, laughs echoing throughout the room at his adorable reaction. 

Changbin continued to press the button, alternating locations and even sometimes poking the pen into the older’s belly button, and Joongie would let out a howl every time as the shocks sent unbearable tingles up and down his body. 

“Ohoho gohohoshhh!! Plehehehease I cahahahant tahahahake ihihit!!” He pleaded, trembling as Channie’s fingers moved to his collarbone and one hand shoved up his armpit, making him laugh and twist side to side. The shocks sent him spiralling into fits of giggles.

But Chan was the worst, whispering tease after tease in his ear while praising him and continuing to tickle him to bits. Hongjoong swore his face was a bright red as Channie’s words took effect on his body. 

“Awhhhh…you’re so cute, aren’t you? You like this?~” Chan cooed into his ear, gently brushing his lips against the shell of the younger leader’s ear. 

Hongjoong’s laughter filled the room, a high-pitched symphony of uncontrollable giggles. His face flushed a deep shade of crimson as Chan’s relentless teasing and tickling worked him over.

The electric pen’s tiny shocks created a cascade of ticklish reactions that drove Hongjoong to near insanity. “Bihihihieniehe plehehehease!!” Hongjoong’s pleas were interspersed with breathless giggles. He wriggled desperately in Chan’s embrace, but the older leader held him firmly, a gentle but unyielding grip that ensured the tickling continued unabated. 

Changbin expertly maneuvered the pen across Hongjoong’s ribs and belly, evoking squeals of laughter each time he found a particularly sensitive spot.

Jisung, having moved to Hongjoong’s belly, used his fingertips to trace intricate patterns into the sensitive skin that made the older leader’s laughter rise in pitch and volume. The combination of gentle fingers and the electric pen was almost more than Joongie could handle. 

“Noohohohoo—!!” Joong squealed, his voice breaking as he fought to catch his breath between fits of giggles.

 “Awhhh, you’re doing so well, Joongie~” Chan murmured, his voice a teasing purr. “You’re so cute when you laugh like this. Is this fun for you?” He paused his fingers to whisper something that made Hongjoong’s face flame red, tears welling up in his eyes. “Do you enjoy this?~”

Hongjoong could barely respond, his laughter coming out in gasps and squeaks. His body was trembling from the intense tickling, but his face was bright with a mix of joy and exhaustion. 

Chan, noticing the fatigue settling over Hongjoong, gradually eased up on the tickling. Changbin slowly reduced the intensity of the shocks, and Jisung’s fingers relaxed their rhythm on Hongjoong’s belly. The room’s atmosphere softened, and Hongjoong’s laughter turned into softer, more quiet giggles.

The four of them looked at Hongjoong with a mixture of amusement and concern as his giggles tapered off into tired breaths. Chan gently released his hold, and Hongjoong slumped against him, his exhaustion evident in the way he closed his eyes.

“You did great, Joong-ah.” Chan whispered softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Hongjoong’s forehead. “You’re all done now.”

Changbin placed the electric pen back on the table and gave Hongjoong a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You okay there?” he asked, his voice filled with warmth.

Hongjoong nodded sleepily, his eyes barely open. “Yehah…just…really tired,” he murmured, his voice trailing off. Joongie’s breathing grew steady and deep as he finally surrendered to sleep. 

“I knew it would work!!” Channie whisper-yelled.

“I guess you’re always right, hyung.” Binnie sighed.