#ticklish!twice

[gaybananabread]

Could we get headcanons for the LOV +Hawks? They're a nightmare found family and must have violent tickle fights...

⋋🕯️LoV Tkl Headcanons🕯️⋌

~Alright, got these in! I love doing these hcs, it's fun just splatting ideas down on here! I've already done KFC and Crispy Boi, so I'll link them below. These maniacs would absolutely get into some wild fights, especially when tensions are high. Warning, this is super long, so be prepared (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠). Thank you for requesting!~

(Hawks and Dabi hcs)

🎮Shigaraki⊰⁠⊹

General:

Neutral on tickling. Doesn't hate it, not super crazy about it.

He's just gotta be in the right mood at the right time.

Will kill anyone who tries to get him to admit it, but he doesn't totally hate it.

I'd say he's a lee. Besides the obvious risk of disintegrating someone, I just feel that he wouldn't want to touch another person like that for that long. Again, certain mood, certain time.

Lee:

On the semi-rare occasion that he does get into a lee mood, he tries his best to ignore it.

He's the leader of the League! “Leaders don't indulge in childish things, it's below me!”

Yeah, that fails after about twenty minutes of denial.

This touch-starved boyo can not fight off a mood like that for long.

He'll try to subtly provoke one of the other members into doing it. Wearing one of his more beat-up shirts, crop top, maybe a tank top. Sitting with his arms behind his head, sassing them, everything he can think of.

The only one who ever really gets him is Mr. Compress. Someone else might pick up on the hints, but are too scared for their lives to do anything about it.

Lighter stuff works best on him, though in certain spots, some good digging will be rewarded.

His worst spots are his palms and thighs.

It feels like his quirk would make those boys really sensitive, though you have to be careful around his fingers. Maybe some special gloves with the palm cut out? Eh, they'll get creative.

Melt spot would be his back. Light tracing, maybe feathers or something along those lines. Either way, he loves it.

Raspy, restrained little giggles at first. Boy refuses to laugh.

You get him good, though, and it'll be ear-splitting cackles and old-door-level squeaks.

📏Twice🎭

General:

Switchy-switch, depending on what side of him is leading.

His calmer, more rational side typically means lee mood.

His angrier, more violent side normally means ler mood.

Twice thinks tickling is a fun way to bond with his fellow members, as well as just relaxing and enjoying it.

Lee:

When he gets lee moods, they're often in-his-face and hard to ignore. Big, obtrusive need to get his shit wrecked.

The observant among the members can point it out. Extra giddiness, little jokes he wouldn't normally tell, and random giggles. Coin toss on who ends up giving a fuck, but still.

Hawks is usually his ler, though Toga is next in line. It's easy to get Hawks annoyed enough to send a feather after him. Toga is sadistic enough to wreck him whenever; it's asking her that's hard.

Worst spots are his ribs and armpits. Pitchy, boisterous cackles when you go for them.

Melt spot is his back. He loves back rubs that slowly become tickly, or just straight-up scribbles.

Ler:

Evil little shit about it. The harsher personality has a field day.

If he's having a decent day and is feeling cruel enough, he’ll make a clone or two to help him.

Big squeezes, drilling into worst-spots, raspberries, you name it. He wants to see his lee cackling before he's done.

The kind of mf to say “Citchie citchie coo~” without a hint of shame.

Most of the time, he'll give revenge tickles. Occasionally, though, there'll be a softer ler that pokes out just for comfort purposes.

Aftercare really depends on who it is. Most of the time, his nicer side comes out.

He'll do anything from smug comments to back rubs and a fluffy blanket.

🔪Toga🩸

General:

First off: girlie loves tickling

Can and will bring it up confidently. She's already kinda crazy—who cares what they think about this?

Gives ler-leaning switch vibes, methinks. Always ready to destroy someone, but wouldn't mind some pokes along the way~

Lee:

While they're less frequent, she definitely gets lee moods.

Knowing he'll almost always provide, she typically goes to Twice for tickly aid. If he's unavailable, though, it's skillfully tricking other members into giving her what she wants.

Very squirmy, can and will break your nose if you're not careful.

Worst spots are her hips. A few squeezes there and she's down for the count.

Melt spot would have to be her palms. She kinda gives off attention whore vibes, so she'd love any light, affectionate traces on them.

Got a bright and bubbly laughter that descends into cackles if you get her good. Blushes very easily, though she'll always have some blood-related excuse.

Ler:

Run for the hills, my friend.

Ruthless little ler, doesn't like to stop until her lee is a teary, tickle-drunk mess.

She loves building up anticipation, big on tickle games and hide-and-seek chases

Light tracing up and down a lee's midriff, stopping just shy of their worst spots before digging in.

Most teasing bitch to ever roam the Earth-

“Oooooh, your cheeks are so red! I love that color on you, cutie~” “Laugh for me! You know you wanna~”

“Oh, I'm sorry, does that word make it worse? A-tickle tickle tickle!”

Most frequent lee is Twice, though she's gotten everyone at least once before.

Not much aftercare unless you ask. Maybe a glass of water or some rubs. If requested, though, she'll cling to you for hours.

🎩Mr. Compress🔮

General:

So we can all agree he's the group dad-friend, right?

Tell me you don't see it. That's right, you can't-(/hj)

Sees tickling as a fun way to bond and de-stress. Often used by him as a cheer-up method.

I'd say switch on this one. He doesn't really seem to lean either way—only that his friends are enjoying themselves!

Lee:

Doesn't really get lee moods, though he's always open to a playful session with one of the League members.

Kinda like a human stress-toy volunteer

He doesn't mind it at all—it’s fun! What's the harm if it's doing somebody some good?

Worst spots are his belly and upper back. Get him there and he's a goner.

For melt spot, I'd say his tops of his thighs/calves. Man seems like he'd enjoy some leg tickles.

Deep, rich laughter. Kinda like Santa, but less ho-ho-hoey, ya know?

Ler:

Paternal tickle monster, no discussion.

He's got the “mental anguish” radar that good dads just seem to magically have.

He'll ask if they're okay and talk it out before starting his “special treatment” for their problem.

As said before, tickle monster gimmick is his thing.

“Is somebody stressed out? You know, tired minds are a special monster's favorite prey…”

“You'd better be careful with that frown around here. You don't wanna wake up…the Tickle Monster!”

“I can't hear you, dear! The Monster's taken over, and he's hungry for laughter!”

Seems like they'd kill him for it, but when they're upset, his silly antics are just what they need.

Tickles Twice and Toga the most, mainly to help with episodes or get Toga to wind down.

Shigaraki occasionally gets it, either for lee-mood help or pressure alleviation.

🗡️Spinner🦎

General:

He seems like a ler, ya know?

Like, he wouldn't hate being tickled, but he much prefers doing it to others.

Is a little too prideful to say it, but finds tickling people to be a fun way to wind down. Also, laughter is just adorable.

Ler:

He'd be kinda in the middle on the roughness-scale. He's not gonna go feather-light, but his goal isn't to kill you. Just enough to get some good belly laughter.

But like bro…have you seen those claws?

Ajhdbhwhs-

Ista-death, no matter how he uses them. Gentle traces? Butterflies swarming. And if he decides to be cruel? Kiss your diaphragm goodbye-

Also, the snooty-snout? Besides being cute, I'm betting tickle nibbles would be double-evil.

Teasing bastard, but affectionately. He can't help but be a jerk, but it's all in good fun.

“Man, you're so ticklish! I've got no idea how you've survived this long.”

“I didn't even know it was possible to blush that hard! You're teaching me new things every day, giggles.”

“Wouldn't it suck if I went for your worst spot? What's that? Hmm, guess I'll do it now if you're gonna be like that…”

Favorite lee would probably be Shigaraki

Picture it: fanboy getting to tickle his obsession-boy and hearing his laugh. And if Shiggy’s in a lee mood? It's a trillion times better for him.

After crusty-man, he'd go for Mr. Compress. Tickling the dad-man could make any one of the members smile, and Spinner is no exception.

Teasy aftercare. Besides the snide comments and little remarks, he's nice with it. Glass of water, potential couch-cuddles afterwards with a video game or movie.

[guppygiggles]

Someone needs to wreck that cloud asap/aff

Hehe… 💙

[kanene-yaaay]

He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could��ve played out. 

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second. 

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?  

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing. 

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory. 

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away. 

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well. 

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation. 

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction. 

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon. 

“Eek! Wait, wait!” 

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh. 

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve. 

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug? 

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever? 

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality. 

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way. 

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly. 

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react. 

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand. 

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down. 

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch. 

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

[thelavendersquid]

Nine Eyes to Feel With

Tickletober Day 5: "I'm not ticklish"

Summary: Lucien hears laughter echoing through the caverns and goes to investigate. The Nein weren't planning on springing a ticklish ambush today, but they're certainly not about to turn down the opportunity when it shows up on their doorstep.

Or, local all-seeing tiefling finds himself more ticklish than he expected.

Set right after Weak Spots

Fandom: Critical Role (The Mighty Nein)

Words: 2.7K

AO3 Link

A/N: This idea lodged itself in my brain as soon as I finished yesterday’s fic and would not leave until I brought it to life. I have a lot of feelings about Lucien, including the firm opinion that he is just as deathly ticklish as we all know Molly was. So here we are.

~~~~

The sound of laughter echoing through the caverns is not something Lucien hears often on his trips to Aeor. His head jerks up as he hears it and he turns to Cree, sitting across from him, with a frown. She looks off into the distance, Tabaxi ears twitching as she processes the sound, then back up at Lucien. “It’s not far away.”

Lucien pushes himself up, pulling out a scimitar as he does so. He hesitates a moment, debating internally whether this is a trap, and then glances over at Cree again. “Be on your guard.” Cree gives a nod and follows after him down the tunnel.

A few short minutes later, Lucien’s eyes - all of them - fall on the source of the sound. The opaque, grayish-colored dome that signals the temporary home of The Mighty Nein. And coming from within, the sound of hysterical laughter. Ah. But of course.

Cree hangs back as Lucien approaches the dome. His eyes flash as he attempts to see inside, but he can only make out a few moving shapes. They seem to all be piled on top of one of the shapes, which looks like it’s…wiggling?

Lucien takes a step back and tilts his head at the dome, observing it with silent confusion. The laughter is still coming through - occasionally it becomes stifled or muffled, only for another peal of unrestrained laughter to break through seconds later. This is very strange, even for this group of adventurers.

“What is it?” Cree whispers from behind him.

Lucien takes another step back towards her, but his eyes never leave the dome. ��I’m not exactly sure.” He backs away until he reaches a rock off to the side, and sits down. Finally he tears his gaze away just long enough to give a quick glance in Cree’s direction. “Get some rest. We’ll be staying here for now.”

Cree makes her way over towards the rock and sits down on the ground. Lucien’s focus snaps right back to the dome and his head tilts the other direction as he stares at it, confused and yet transfixed.

It’s only a minute or so later that the laughter stops. Lucien blinks and sits back, crossing his arms and still staring at the dome.

There’s a sudden shuffling from inside the dome as, Lucien assumes, its occupants realize he’s sitting there staring at them. A long minute goes by. Lucien can hear whispers from inside - along with muffled giggles that seem to still be trailing off. He tilts his head again, picking at his nails.

A head pops through the dome, followed quickly by several others. And then there they are - all seven of The Mighty Nein stepping out of the dome in front of him. He raises his eyebrows at them, still cleaning dirt out from under his nails.

The group looks like they’re preparing for a fight, putting hands on weapons and generally looking antsy. Lucien supposes he’d better smooth things over. That’s not what he came here for, not tonight at least. He stands up nonchalantly and holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Ah-ah-ah, no need for all that. I was merely confused by the sound of laughter coming from within these tunnels. I tracked you all the way from another cavern - you were being quite loud. You’re lucky it was us who heard you and not any number of other creatures.”

To Lucien’s surprise, a few of the group actually break into grins at this. Jester, who is grinning brightly, says, “Oh, we were just tickling Essek!” She gestures over her shoulder - and ah, there’s the honorary eighth member of the group, that drow elf. Lucien had almost forgotten they brought him along.

The elf - Essek - is a lovely shade of magenta and looks mortified, even as he is currently bent over, coughing, and seems to be stifling…is that more laughter? Lucien tilts his head again as a hint of a smirk twists onto his own face.

“I see. Well, lovely to know the path you all are on, I wouldn’t want to run into any more nasty traps you’ve so rudely set for us. Although if you keep on at this volume, it doesn’t seem like we’ll need to worry about that.” He catches Essek’s eye and flashes him a smirk - it works wonders at making the elf look like he’d rather the ground swallow him here and now. The grins begin to fade from the others’ faces too.

Lucien reaches his hands above his head lazily, arching his back and stretching. “We’ll be on our way then. See you soon.” He flashes them another wicked smile and turns away, back towards the tunnel.

A voice cuts him off. Beauregard, suddenly emboldened, steps forward. “Are you ticklish, Lucien?”

Lucien stops in place. He turns slowly back to face them and meets the monk’s gaze. She’s staring him, something determined in her eyes. Lucien raises his eyebrows again.

“I’m afraid not. No trace of that in my blood.”

“Are you sure?” Beauregard presses forward, taking another step closer.

“Aye, quite sure.” Lucien gives a shrug and holds his arms out to the sides. “Go on, give it a try, far be it from me to deprive you of satisfying your curiosity.”

Beauregard steps forward. Behind her, Caleb, Essek, Fjord and Caduceus look worried. “Beau, wait, it’s probably a trap-“

Beau ignores them and walks confidently up to Lucien. He stares at her, calm as can be. Beau studies him for a moment. Then, never breaking eye contact, she reaches out, latches onto his side, and gives it a squeeze.

And Lucien doesn’t catch himself fast enough to stop the involuntary jump away from the sensation he did not expect.

Beau’s eyebrow twitches up. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Lucien says, voice carefully smooth. “Your hands are cold.”

“We’re in an ice cavern.” Beau’s tone is blunt. Her hand is still on his side. She squeezes it again.

Lucien jumps again. He quickly grabs Beau’s hand and pushes it away. He looks rattled for the first time since the group has met him. A wicked grin slides onto Beau’s face.

Lucien takes a careful breath, composing himself. Okay, so that felt strange. But it’s nothing he can’t handle. Back away, say something intimidating, walk off head held high, never deal with it again-AH!

Lucien jumps almost a foot and spins around, indignantly - to find Jester, grinning, from where she snuck around behind him. And apparently stuck her claws under his coat to poke his ribs.

This is not going well.

There’s a tense pause as Lucien stares at the group and they stare back at him. Grins matching Jester and Beau’s are growing on the others’ faces. One of Lucien’s eyes slides over to glance at Cree - who is watching this from afar with a hand over her mouth, clearly smiling. Lucien starts to say something to her. He’s interrupted before he gets very far.

As Jester, Beauregard, and Veth all spring towards him as one.

Lucien dodges sideways and throws his hands out to block them. He manages to deflect Jester, but Beauregard has deadly aim and Veth slips right underneath his arms. Their fingers slide underneath his coat and find purchase on his sides and stomach, squeezing, wiggling, poking. A startled laugh slips out of Lucien as he stumbles backwards.

Fjord, Caleb and Essek exchange a horrified glance behind the others. Caduceus chuckles and steps forward - just as Beau call over her shoulder, “Yasha! Come help me hold him babe, he’s a squirmy one!”

Squirmy is an understatement for what Lucien is currently doing. He’s flailing around like a cat being given a bath, limbs everywhere, fingernails raking down any patch of skin he can manage to reach, tail whipping behind him like a baton, practically hissing. And fighting a desperate - losing - battle to keep the laughter that’s bubbling up his throat at bay.

Yasha pushes forward to join the others in the fray. Lucien hisses at her arrival and reaches frantically behind him - whether to grab for her or for his sword, Yasha can’t tell. She doesn’t give him a chance - as Beau grabs his arm to keep him from successfully reaching her, Yasha grabs him firmly around the midsection and holds on tight - sending her fingers crawling up to scratch just below his armpits, right in the spot she knows used to make Molly howl.

It has a similar effect. Lucien yells out and throws himself forward - but is stopped by both Yasha’s arms and Beauregard and Jester in front of him. Instead he opts to curl up as tight as he can, trying to block their access - as the laughter finally pours out of him. It starts off scratchy, rusty from disuse, but warms up quick as Yasha’s fingers keep wiggling in that stupid fucking spot - until he’s laughing too hard for words in a way that is all too familiar to the Nein.

Cree can’t hold back her own laughter at the sight. This is the best thing she’s seen in months.

Fjord glances over at Caleb again. “Well shit, I guess we’re doing this.”

“We have a death wish,” Caleb agrees. But there’s a hint of a grin on his face and he steps forward all the same. Fjord and Caduceus follow.

Lucien’s struggle to get away renews with great force as Fjord, Caleb and Caduceus descend towards him. He flails again, beating against Yasha with his tail and lashing out with his claws towards Jester, Veth and the approaching trio. To no avail, as they hold him tight. Instead he resorts to death threats, spitting out, “I will kill you! Don’t test me!” It’s not particularly menacing through his laughter.

Jester laughs along. “You were already going to kill us! I’m not stopping just because of that!”

Veth, currently squeezing at his knees, laughs too. “How’s that anti-magic cone working for you now? I bet you’re wishing for an anti-fingers cone!”

Lucien is going to kill her first. As soon as he manages to stop laughing.

Caleb and Fjord have slid their way into the little group surrounding Lucien by this point, and their fingers make contact with his sides and stomach - as Caduceus reaches in between Yasha to pinch up and down his back. Lucien is lost in laughter again. He arches away from Caduceus’ desperately - only to bring himself closer to everyone else, which makes him flail wildly without any plan. He hisses at them through his laughter - which only serves to make everyone laugh at him again.

Jester grabs his tail as it goes whipping past her. She giggles and signals for the others to slow their assault a bit. Which they do, allowing Lucien a moment to pant for breath - but careful to still keep their fingers twitching enough to prevent him recollecting his strength and shoving them off. Jester holds up Lucien’s tail where he can see it. “Hey Lucien, check this out!” She brings her claws down onto his tail, right where the tip connects, and scratches.

Lucien shrieks, there’s no other word that could be used for the sound that leaves his mouth. Every sense he possesses is on overload. There’s nothing but a swirling of colors behind his eyes - all of them. He can’t see, he can’t hear, he can’t feel anything except that torturous feeling on his tail that he needs to stop right now. His arms flail and reach desperately for Jester, trying to grab something, anything to make her stop that scratching. He pitches forward with such force that he slips right out of the hold Beau and Yasha have on him and heads straight for the ground.

Jester, unfortunately, expected this reaction and maintains her grip on his tail as she eagerly follows him to the ground. Lucien resigns himself to his fate and to the sea of mirth that has swallowed him. He’s laughing too hard to even think coherently anymore. He can barely register Jester laughing along with him - and behind her, the rest of the group appears to be laughing at him again.

“Bad spot?” Fjord calls after him. He glances over, grinning, at Cree - who is openly laughing at this sight too, though she looks horrified at the same time.

Jester is giggling. “Wow, Lucien, looks like you are ticklish after all! Did you lie to us?” Lucien does not respond, still thrashing side to side and trying to yank his tail out of her hands even as he’s lost in laughter.

Jester slowly eases off his tail, letting him pull it away. She grins down at him. “Or did you not know?”

There’s no response of course. Instead, Lucien curls up in a ball on the ground. It takes him a beat to realize the tickling has stopped - and no one is holding onto him anymore. They’re all just staring at him on the ground.

Lucien launches himself to his feet, and for a split-second the little group sees their life flash before their eyes as he spins towards them. But as Lucien lunges forward, he realizes in horror that all that laughter has done something to him - he can’t quite coordinate his limbs, he’s been weakened. And before he can react to counter-balance…he stumbles forward and lands back on the marble floor.

Beauregard, laughing, is on him in a flash, pinning him down. She looks over at Jester. “Of course he didn’t know, he thought he didn’t have a single weakness. Too bad he’s ticklish as fuck and we know all his worst spots.” She punctuates this with a sudden scribbling of fingers under Lucien’s arms, making him yell out - and to his dismay, he’s laughing again.

“You could have told me!” Lucien yells from underneath Beau’s nimble fingers. “What happened to telling people things you know about them!”

Beau glances down in surprise, even as Veth - who has appeared next to them to re-join the attack - says, with a smirk, “So much more fun to show you though.” Beau tilts her head, watching Lucien as he dissolves back into laughter. There was something almost playful in his tone just then - and now, as she watches, there’s something she can just catch in his eyes and the grin that splits his face that looks almost…genuine. No longer as forced. In fact, he almost seems to be leaning into the touch instead of fighting to get away. Beau blinks in surprise. That’s unexpected.

Beau backs off slightly, fingers slowing as she pulls back into a seated position. Lucien’s eyes meet hers for a split second. There’s a pause, just for a beat. And just like that, whatever she saw is gone. Lucien is back to flailing around like an angry cat, hissing and spitting and thrashing and desperate to get away. He’s shoved whatever that was away.

Interesting. Beau will file that away for later. For now, she turns and gestures to the others. And the little group goes back to extracting every bit of laughter they can manage to get out of the flailing purple tiefling - very aware this will be their only chance to do anything remotely like this ever again.

It’s only a minute or so later that Lucien finally manages to coordinate his limbs enough to wrestle himself out from underneath them again. This time he’s prepared - he yanks his scimitars out, draws himself up to his full height, and stares them down.

No one follows him this time. They hold their hands up in peace - still grinning at him. Lucien gives them all a ferocious scowl, shoves the scimitars back away, and draws his coat around him without a word - looking for all the world like a disgruntled cat. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Instead he gives them another glare, spins on his heel, and stalks off down the tunnel without a word.

Cree stands up to follow after him. She gives a glance over to the Nein, a mixture of horrified and very, very amused. They flash her bright grins in return. Cree looks away quickly and follows Lucien down the tunnel.

A moment later, Lucien’s ice-cold voice comes from down the tunnel - “What are you grinning about?!”

There’s Cree’s purring voice in return - too soft for the group to make out what she said, but with a teasing enough tone for them to have a pretty good idea. Lucien is silent.

The Nein catch each other’s eyes and burst out laughing.

[toadallytickles]

Hello this is the police (borrowing J's account) u are under arrest for bullying innocent lees

[tickle-bugs]

For the warmup prompts can you do Beetlejuice and Lydia (platonic! I do not ship them romantically in any way whatsoever) with the dialogue of “I bet I can get you to say my name.” If not, I totally understand!

So for people who haven’t seen/listened to the musical the vibe is completely different from the movie LMAO less “this is our weird uncle beetlejuice the family won’t talk to him he’s wanted by the feds and can’t come within 500 feet of the house” and more “cool but still weird cousin beetlejuice who collects strange rocks, is always in danger of being actively actively on fire, and is wayyy too into dark humor”. It’s a good show! If you like comedy musicals with a rock lean to the soundtrack, you’ll probably like it. It’s got a Little Shop of Horrors sensibility to it, I think. 

If anyone tags this as ship w/ Lydia and Beetlejuice I will crawl out of your screen like the girl from the ring and gnaw on your bones I’m so serious

AU where the plot of this show doesn’t take like. A week LMAO. Basically Lydia hasn’t said BJ’s name yet but she also hasn’t decided what to do with her dad yet. So they’re at an impasse. Lydia regularly goes to hang out in her haunted attic and lament because Delia won’t go up there, thus making it safe. Beetlejuice keeps doing Say My Name-style ad pitches to get Lydia to summon him properly but he’s not very good at it. 

EDIT: FORGOT THE BODY HORROR WARNING OOPS!! It’s very mild but just in case anyone needs it <;3

Full-Time Spectres

Lydia’s life is far from conventional, perfectly so, but she’s started to adapt to the strangeness in the walls of her house. She doesn’t have the one ghost she wants most of all, but she’s got three that do just fine for entertainment and scheming purposes. She’s gotten used to the cold spots, the occasional flicker of the lights, and Adam’s habit of walking through walls rather than doors--he figured out that he could and never wanted to stop. 

Some things she’ll never adjust to, though, like her attic being strewn with scraps of brutalized board games.

Monopoly’s been pinned to the wall with a knife, Ludo sits perfectly still on a shelf with suspicious-looking green liquid in the shot glasses, and a chess board hovers in the air, eternally aflame. It’s a massacre and she doesn’t know where half of these things came from. 

“What’s, uh…what’s happening here?” Lydia kicks the door shut behind her. The door creaks open. She kicks it closed again with a frown.

Adam looks up and squints at the door. His eyes dart around as if he can see the schematics of it and diagnose the problem from halfway across the room. Lydia allows herself a tiny smile. 

“Adam’s teaching me to play checkers.” Beetlejuice beams, which is unsettling in itself. 

“Well, I tried to reach him to play chess, then a few other things…it didn’t go well.” Adam pushes his glasses up his nose and surveys the board in front of them. He captures one of Beetlejuice’s pieces with a triumphant little ‘aha!’.

Beetlejuice takes a long, pensive look at the board. Very thin tendrils of smoke curl out of his ears as he tries to decide which piece to play. Adam, sweet Adam, goes to help him make an advantageous move, but Beetlejuice shushes him. 

“What are you doing?” Lydia sidles over to Barbara, who fumbles with an old lamp. She sets it down before she can shatter it. 

“Well, it was going to be a surprise but…” Barbara gestures excitedly to a small nook in the attic. She’s rearranged various boxes of her former belongings to build a shoddy sort of booth. A heavy, ugly floral curtain hangs precariously over the doorway. 

“It’s a dark corner!” Lydia gasps sarcastically. 

“No—well, yes, but it’s supposed to be a kind of mini dark room? I don’t know much about them but I know you’re always taking pictures.” Barbara shifts awkwardly.

Oh. Oh. 

Lydia cradles her camera in her hands, running her thumb along the outside. The pebbled texture is a kiss to her fingertips. If she concentrated hard enough, she can remember the feeling of her mom’s warm hands over her own, showing her how to hold the camera. 

“If you don’t like it—“ 

“You made this for me?” She whispers. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. 

“Still workin’ on it, but yes.” Barbara gestures lamely. 

“You…didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing but time. Might as well use it right.” Barbara shrugs. Lydia bounces on her toes.

“I’ve still, um, gotta clear out all of our junk. Adam and I don’t need it anymore, not really, and you need room to breathe. I know it’s not much, but--”

Lydia crashes into Barbara for a hug. She’s icy to the touch, but her touch is the most comforting thing Lydia can imagine. Barbara pulls her in close, cradling the back of her head with her cool hands. There is no heartbeat in her chest, but Lydia can feel that it’s not empty.  

A memory of her mother prickles at the back of her mind. She pushes it down. 

“Do you want help?” Lydia pulls away and looks towards the dark room, ignoring the twinge of grief in her gut. She can see its potential around the edges.

“It’s your surprise! You can’t help with that!” Barbara gasps, affronted. 

The curtain falls heavily from the hooks and thumps into the ground. A plume of dust kicks up and Lydia coughs. 

“Okay. Maybe you can.” Barbara scratches her head. Together, she and Lydia hoist the heavy curtain back into precarious-looking hooks embedded in the wall. As they back away from it, silently begging it to stay in place, Beetlejuice sits up ramrod straight. 

“Adam, Barbara’s throwing away your coin collection,” Beetlejuice gasps and points over Adam’s shoulder.

“What? They’re vintage!” Adam whirls around. Beetlejuice moves a bunch of pieces around, making a bunch of captures, and eats a piece for good measure. He winks at Lydia. She fondly rolls her eyes. 

“You know I would never.” Barbara says. Adam deflates. She kisses his forehead. He grumbles a little but accepts it.

When Adam turns back to the board, Lydia has the express joy of watching him go through the five stages of grief in real time. He looks from Beetlejuice to the board in sheer despair. 

“Why do you keep eating the pieces?” Adam puts his head in his hands. 

“Because, Adam dearest, it makes you mad.” Beetlejuice pats his shoulder solemnly. Lydia snorts.

“Well, I’m officially out of games.” Adam pats his thighs and stands. He ambles over to Barbara and appraises the curtain. He puts his hands on his hips and starts muttering about supports and tracks. Lydia tries to follow along but her eyes near-instantly glaze over. 

“Sooooo, Lydia.” Beetlejuice slides over to her. “Have you given my offer any more thought?”

“You still haven’t given me a convincing argument. Calling yourself ‘the worst of the best’ isn’t exactly a glowing review.” Lydia wrinkles her nose. 

“These two like me!” Beetlejuice points at the Maitlands. Barbara gives a teasing ‘meh’ gesture just to see him splutter in offense. She laughs softly. 

“I’ll admit, I’m coming around on him.” Adam chuckles. 

“Thank you, Adam. Mwah.” Beetlejuice blows a kiss in his direction. Adam turns a little pink and goes back to working on the curtain. Barbara whispers something in his ear that makes him turn even pinker. 

“They like anyone. I’ve met cardboard with stronger opinions than them.” Lydia scoffs, then turns. “No offense.” 

Adam and Barbara both shrug. 

“Fair point. Counteroffer: you hate your dad, I hate your dad, let’s kill him.” Beetlejuice gives his most enthusiastic jazz hands. Lydia stares at him blankly. 

“Denied.” She pushes his hands out of the way. 

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that you suck. Your fate hinges on me and you can’t even get me to say your name. You spend all your time cheating at board games because you need me more than I need you. That’s pretty lame for a big, scary demon,” Lydia says mockingly, curling her fingers into claws. When Beetlejuice gives her the finger, she gives two right back with a smirk. 

“Lydia, be nice,” Barbara chides, goosing Lydia’s side. She yelps and smacks her hand away. 

Beetlejuice gasps. Lydia slowly meets his sparkling eyes. 

“No.” Lydia points at him. Beetlejuice smiles slowly, wicked and full of mischief. 

“I’ll kill you. I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you--”

Lydia steps back, Beetlejuice steps forward, and all hell breaks loose. Lydia springs over a pile of Maitland junk and ducks under Adam’s arm. She shoves him into Beetlejuice’s path.

Beetlejuice simply picks Adam up and deposits him elsewhere like a Maitland mannequin. He squeaks and leaps out of the way of their chase.  

The two of them circle each other around an unbuilt dining room table kit, Lydia just barely keeping out of arm’s reach. She bolts past a dilapidated spin-your-own-yarn kit and dives through Barbara’s legs to hide behind her. 

Beetlejuice stops and visibly considers the consequences of doing the same. Barbara gives him a withering look. He tries to circle around her, but Lydia’s excellent at moving her around like a meat shield. Beetlejuice visibly starts scheming. 

Barbara looks at Lydia, looks back at him, and slides out of the way. 

“Barbara!” Lydia screeches in outrage but there’s not enough time to screech and run. He grabs her and pulls her into a bear hug. 

“Thank youuuu, Babs!” Beetlejuice grins at her. She shakes her head fondly and honorably discharges herself from the battlefield. 

“Hey Lydia…I bet I can get you to say my name.” He cackles evilly. Lydia hisses at him, but damn it, she’s already giggling nervously. He swoops his hands over her stomach, wiggling his fingers but not quite touching. 

“B-Beetlejuice!” She squeaks and rocks up onto her toes in lieu of running. 

“That’s one!” He singsongs, finally touching down on her stomach. She folds into his hands—unwise, really—and curses Beetlejuice to the high heavens and below. 

“Think we should help her?” Adam leans over to Barbara. They both watch Lydia worm around in Beetlejuice’s arms, not making much of an escape attempt despite the volume of her threats. 

“Nah.” Barbara moves a crate of nearly-unused embroidery hoops out of the way with tender care. The curtain collapses again. Both Maitlands sigh. 

“Beetlejuice, you fucker!” Lydia growls, but quickly loses it to laughter. He’s doing this infuriating little pinchy-thing to her sides, one that makes her leap clear off the ground each time. She tosses her head back and cackles, her whole face scrunched with the force of it. 

God, she hasn’t laughed like this since…well, it’s been a while. She’d forgotten that she could. 

“Eh, that probably counts. One more!” Beetlejuice finds a deathly spot on her lower ribs and decides not to leave it alone. 

“Beeeeeeeeeeeee--AHHH!” 

“Hm, yeah. See, now we’re gonna have to start over.” Beetlejuice tasers her sides, right at that spot, and feigns disapproval. Lydia makes a noise at a pitch audible only to dogs and demons. 

Crunch. 

Lydia’s foot connects directly with his face in a frankly-stunning high kick. He drops her roughly. Something goes flying across the room and hits the wall with a quiet thump. Barbara gasps sharply and covers her mouth in shock. 

Beetlejuice touches his nose—or rather, the space where it used to be, and a thick hush falls over the attic. Everyone’s eyes drift to the nose, now fallen among jars of the most rancid-looking kombucha on the face of the earth. It twitches plaintively. 

He laughs, loud and boisterous. His lack-of-nose whistles as he does. Adam picks up the fallen nose and gags before tossing it to Lydia and wiping his hands on his shirt. 

“Got your nose,” Lydia giggles weakly, depositing it into Beetlejuice’s hand. 

“Nice shot.” Beetlejuice chuckles, uncomfortably nasally, and shoves his nose back into place with an awful crack. He takes a long, wheezing inhale and gives her a thumbs up. 

“So…” He sidles close to her, bringing back the jazz hands. 

“No.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair.” He sighs. 

“Lydia, are you alright?” Delia’s voice curls faintly up the rickety staircase. She climbs up, but not all the way—Lydia can tell by the shuffling of her awful shoes. 

Everyone freezes.

“Lydia?” 

She opens her mouth to answer Delia and Beetlejuice squeezes her sides. She yelps and whirls around, but he doesn’t even have the decency to feign innocence. He just does it again, waiting for the precise moment she goes to speak. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m o-okay.” Lydia wrestles with Beetlejuice’s hands, her voice shaking with barely-restrained giggles. 

“Oh god, please don’t make me come up there.” Delia’s ‘whisper’ is anything but. Beetlejuice snorts. 

“I’m fine! Just, uhm, doing spring cleaning.” Lydia calls back, stomping on Beetlejuice’s foot. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“Okay.” A long, heavy pause from Delia. 

“You can go now!” Lydia yells. Delia’s heels click quickly down the stairs, back towards the dreary living. 

“You’re insufferable,” Lydia hisses at Beetlejuice, punching his shoulder. He holds his hand over his heart and gives a grand, sweeping bow. When he stands up, he smacks his head against the dagger in the wall. Lydia snickers at him.

He turns around like a penguin, never one to do things normally, and makes a delighted noise at the pierced Monopoly board. He pulls the knife out of the wall and pokes his finger with it a few too many times, fascinated with the sharpness of it. 

He stretches, makes a bunch of vague measurement and aiming gestures, then lobs the knife straight upwards. It lodges into the ceiling with an enthusiastic ping! The blade warbles with the force of it.

Beetlejuice slaps the Monopoly board down on the floor and plops down in front of it. Adam bemoans the state of the attic ceiling as Barbara consoles him. 

“Wanna play?” Beetlejuice snaps his fingers and the board changes, shifting into black, whites, purples, and greens. Graveyard moss creeps along the edges of the board. Monopoly components spawn into existence on the board, appearing in puffs of fog and comically-quiet wails of the damned. 

“Sure.” Lydia sits opposite him. She pokes at some of the moss. It sprouts to meet her touch. 

“If you get stabbed, you lose?” Beetlejuice casts a cursory glance to the still-wobbling knife. The blade shifts slightly out of the ceiling. 

“Deal.” Lydia sticks her hand out to shake. Beetlejuice takes it with gusto. 

“You guys wanna play?” Lydia turns to the Maitlands. Barbara and Adam look at each other, communicating in that telepathic way of theirs. Barbara grins and leads Adam over to the board to sit. 

“I call thimble!” Adam reaches for it. Beetlejuice swats his hand. Adam reaches again. Beetlejuice swats him a little harder. 

“You can’t have the thimble. I’m the thimble.” Beetlejuice pinches it between his fingers. 

“Can I have the thimble?” Barbara leans close to Beetlejuice and looks up at him through her lashes. Lydia never would’ve guessed that a demon could blush, but sure enough, Beetlejuice’s face takes on the slightest bit of color. 

“I sense that I’m being manipulated.” He narrows his eyes. 

“Is it working?” Barbara smiles. 

“Yep.” He slaps the thimble into her hand. She passes it to Adam. He beams. Beetlejuice rolls his eyes but his gaze lingers on them for just a bit too long. 

“Well played, Babs. Well played.” Beetlejuice scoops up the racecar piece and frowns at it. Its tiny metal form melts and reconfigures into a small hearse. Satisfied, he places it right next to the cat piece—Lydia’s, of course. Barbara takes the top hat with pride. 

When Beetlejuice jumps Adam for his extra get out of jail free card—of which there are a suspicious amount in Beetlejuice’s version of the game—Lydia laughs and swipes a bit of Beetlejuice’s money. Adam’s hiccupy cackles are the backdrop for Barbara robbing the bank in broad daylight, taking as many bills from the tray as her heart desires. 

Lydia’s life is certainly very strange and painfully unusual, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She can only hope that her mom will love being part of the attic’s menagerie of ghosts and ghouls as much as she does. 

[doopn00p]

Pina and Tem getting their nails hooves done 💅

[bbyhellfire]

eddie loses his hair tie at the most inconvenient moment (18+ only)

fem!reader, oral (r receiving), clumsy eddie, inspired by a twt p vid

It doesn’t take much to get you and Eddie going. 

Roaming eyes, gentle touches that last longer than necessary, a flirty joke. They all do the trick to get you tangling your limbs together, hungry mouths moving as if you're in some Hallmark movie. It isn’t long until one of you is pushed back onto Eddie’s messy bed. Sometimes it’s him, but today it’s you.

Listen.

Eddie's had a long day. His van is leaking coolant again, and Bev is threatening to give Corroded Coffin's Tuesday night to a Beatles cover band. Eddie is going through It, okay? He needs to be between your legs, needs his face buried in your pussy. It's what has him pulling you to the edge of his bed, pawing at your thighs to reveal your wet cunt to his thirsty gaze.

He must look ridiculous, like some Looney Tunes character, and he doesn't give a single shit. He leans forward, leaving a hasty trail of kisses from the inside of your knees up your thigh. Fuck, he can already smell you. He's already panting and he hasn't even done anything.

And then, a squeak.

Huh?

Not exactly the reaction Eddie is expecting. Pausing, he glances up to see your lips pressed together to stifle a giggle.

“Sorry, it's your hair. Tickles.” You explain, moving forward to rake your fingers through his curls.

“Hold on, I have a hair ti–,” He stops, looking down at his empty wrist.

Correction: he had a hair tie. Just this morning. Where did it go? That’s the third one he’s lost this week. How the hell do they just disappear?

He's about to stand to search his room before you tug on his hair for him to pause.

“Don’t worry about it,” Your voice is airy, giggly from his ticklish locks and the building pleasure in your core. You smile, taking your nails over his scalp before saying, "Just keep going."

You don’t need to tell him twice. 

He leans forward again, mouth open and tongue peeking out, ready for the first swipe against your cunt. And apparently, so is his hair. As he's tilting his head down to meet your pussy, his messy curls fall forward directly in front of his open mouth.

Eddie doesn't notice until he inhales an accidental mouthful of hair. The taste of smoke and V05 shampoo is startling, making him cough and gag, as he instinctively pulls away from you. It’s only when he's pulling at the strands stuck in his mouth does he remember that his boxers and jeans are still wrapped around his ankles.

He manages a quick “Oh shit,” before falling back, unable to catch himself because he’s still pulling his fucking hair from his mouth. With his throat stinging from the inhaled hair, he falls back on his bare ass, hard cock bouncing against his stomach.

Above him, you sit up with a gasp, your hand covering your mouth as you both stare at each other, wide-eyed with surprise. You don’t move, and neither does he, opting to stay still, trying to figure out what to do next. This isn’t his finest moment, but it’s not his worst either. At least he isn't choking on his hair anymore.

You snort. Your body shakes as you try to hold in your laughter, but it’s damn near impossible. “I’m sorry, babe."

He can't help but crack a smile. He adores your laugh, even if it’s at his expense. It is pretty funny, even if his cheeks are burning red. He sits up, placing a hand over your knee as you both laugh.

“Maybe I should get that hair tie."

“It’s okay,” You interrupt, taking his hand on your knee into your own. Intertwining your fingers, you pull him toward you. “C’mere, I'll help.”

He follows willingly, letting you tug him back to sit between your legs. Your hands travel over the sides of his head to collect his hair into a makeshift ponytail.

"Better?"

He answers your question by leaving a sticky stripe of his spit and your slick along your pussy. All the way from your dripping hole to your clit, he collects the tangy taste of you on his tongue before moving back up to your sensitive bud.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie!" You gasp, hand tightening into a fist as he presses the tip of his tongue against your clit. Slurping and licking, he focuses on your clit as you push your hips up against his face. "More, please. I'm so close."

Groaning with his lips still wrapped around your clit, the vibrations making your legs shake as you come. And not once do you let go of his hair, holding the curly hair into a tight fist as Eddie licks you through your orgasm.

[kitkatscabinet]

Eat your heart out Patrick Swayze

Summary: Helping your boyfriend with a new hobby (inspired by this ask)

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 539

“Fuck!” Your boyfriend yells in frustration, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you notice the way Jason is scowling at the lump of clay.

Splotches of wet clay litter his arms and clothes, hands covered in a paste-like consistency that’s started to crust on his skin.

This was supposed to be a calming activity. Something that Dinah had suggested might be beneficial. Jason always seemed so sure that all he was capable of was violence, his hands made for destruction. Pottery was supposed to prove he was capable of more than what he believed.

You don’t know why she couldn’t have suggested something like gardening, because this was proving to be anything but calming.

You really shouldn’t laugh, you can tell Jason’s about to snap, but he’s just so cute.

“Jay, babe, you gotta relax.” You cajole, moving to stand behind him.

“You relax.” He replies petulantly, all the wit of a second grader.

It’s a testament to how much he loves and trusts you that Jason doesn’t think twice about sinking back to rest against your chest.

Jason’s built like a brick shit house, a fact which is more apparent to you now than ever. It’s awkward, wrapping your arms around him, your hands atop his as you guide his movements on the pottery wheel.

Your breath comes out in concentrated, even puffs against the skin of his neck.

Jason almost makes a flirty remark, after all, how’s he supposed to concentrate when he can feel the planes of your chest pressed so snugly against his back.

Still, it’s calming, and relaxing to be so close to you. Closing his eyes, Jason allows himself to concentrate on nothing but the feel of you against him, the reassuring thud of your heartbeat pulsing in through him. 

“Jason!” You laugh suddenly, snapping him out of his trance, head tilting back against your shoulder to make eye contact with your mirth-filled ones. “You’re supposed to be focusing on the clay not falling asleep!” You playfully hit him on the side. 

“Hate to break it to you babe, but there’s no focusing on anything else when you’re pressed up against me like that,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

This time you push him off the stool, laughing uproariously at the undignified shriek of surprise. 

“See if I ever help you again you little perv!” Playfully you flip him the bird as you sashay back to your shared bedroom. 

By the time you make it a few feet away, Jason’s recovered from his impromptu fall and is running towards you at a frankly terrifying speed for a man his size. Despite his bulk, your boyfriend is trained to be stealthy and it’s only for your benefit that he lets you hear him coming. 

Another peal of laughter escapes your lips as his strong arms wrap around your middle, tackling you onto the bed as Jason leaves ticklish kisses along the column of your neck. 

Instinctively one of your hands moves to tug at the hair on the back of his neck, pottery long forgotten for the day now that Jason had his hands on you. 

(You’d yell at him for getting clay all over one of your favourite shirts later.)

[gaybananabread]

Hello, beautiful soul!! For the fruit shop, could we have lee!Hawks and ler!LoV? With banana, orange, and watermelon? Maybe some of those tickle bites/kisses land on those extra sensitive wings...lord knows how he'd handle a raspberry. He's canonically vibration sensitive.

Fruit(s): Bananas, Oranges, Watermelon

Aww hi Anon! I’ve never written for the LoV besides Dabi, so new experience! I do have the character limit capped at four for these fics, so I just picked the league members that I thought would be most fun. Love writing for KFC, definitely one of my MHA favorites to get got (). This is gonna be pre-PLF because it’s just easier for me that way. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Hawks

Lers: Dabi, Twice, Toga

Summary: Hawks is sassing his fellow LoV members, collectively pissing everyone off. While some more violent methods are suggested, the most interested trio finds a way to get back at the birdie without injuring their “asset.” 

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

The League of Villains were gathered in their “meeting room,” though only two members were really paying attention to Shigaraki’s spiel. Kurogiri was…probably listening? It was hard to tell with him. Mr. Compress seemed to be engaged, nodding along and occasionally humming. Then again, he almost always indulged Shigi’s rants; it was just the kind of man he was.

Dabi was practically laying on the table, his head resting on his folded arms; he couldn’t care less about the precautions. If heroes ever found them, he’d burn them all to a nice crisp. Twice and Toga were trading a piece of paper back-and-forth, writing little notes and doodles to pass the time. Spinner idly twirled one of his blades, sharing most of his teammates’ boredom.

Right as Shigaraki got to the extra repetitive part of his speech, a smug yet smooth voice spoke up. “Don’cha think you should talk about something new, Shigaraki? This is getting kinda old.” 

Six pairs of eyes shot over to Hawks, though most were more excited than shocked; it was something other than the same “we’re the ultimate fighters” speech. Shigaraki, however, seemed less than amused. “Really, hero? And what would you say, since you’re so amazing at speeches?” The word “hero” was said very bitterly; his way of reminding Hawks that he was still on thinner ice.

“Well, ya really haven’t gone over the next moves for the League. We’ve tossed ideas around, but do we have a clear idea? Seems kinda important ta me.” The Decay user frowned, though he couldn’t say Hawks was wrong. He had been laying the hero slander on a little thick, but he was getting angry. Besides, he had a clear idea of what was to come next. He just wasn’t ready to share that big a plan with the bird yet.

“That…isn’t ready for sharing. I do have plans, you just… don’t get to know them.” That wasn’t a lie, either. He wasn’t telling them more than the bare minimum until the day grew closer. Upon hearing this, a few league members huffed and chuckled under their breaths. Even though they knew their leader did have plans, it was funny to see someone make him squirm. 

Hawks normally wouldn’t act like that; his main goal was to blend in and find out the League’s big plans without getting caught. That day, however, he was bored of the same unhelpful information, his casual attitude and snark slipping out without him realizing it.

That week, it had slipped out a lot. Everyone’s patience was wearing thin, to the point of them discussing various torture methods and violent solutions. A few were particularly pissy, having a group discussion about what the hell to do with their newest member.

“I’m gonna kill that ungrateful newbie.” Shigaraki growled in a scratchy, annoyed tone. “Who does he think he is, hijacking my fine meeting?!” Toga giggled, though didn’t make any comments.

Dabi spoke next, huffing. “Told you lunatics he was trouble. But no, none‘a you listened to me. Reap what you sow, assholes.” He really didn’t care about minding his language; everyone was a bit pissed, giving him an excuse. Twice decided to put his two cents in, quite literally.

“C’mon, it’s probably just an off week for him or something. Let’s main him; I’m sure nobody would mind!” Toga giggled again, catching the attention of the hothead. Dabi glared at her, crossing his arms as his snarl somehow deepened. “What’s got you all giggly, psycho? Maiming get you going or somethin’?”

The blonde just shook her head, a shit-eating yet lax smile on her face. “You boys are going about this all wrong~! If he’s making jokes, you gotta make him laugh for it to stop! Izuku-kun does it all the time~” She sounded oddly reminiscent at the end… Still, Dabi just scoffed.

“Make him laugh? And you’re still stalking that hero kid? Seriously?” She disregarded that second part, nodding and smiling widely. “Yeah! He’s looking for a giggle or snicker when he sasses you guys; why not return the favor~?” The answer was cryptic, as things usually were with Toga, but it got a certain man interested. 

“Return the favor? How do we do that, jokes? That’s idiotic, let’s just do it my way!” His first statement sounded intrigued, so Toga went with it and explained. “Well, that’s one way, but Izuku’s friends make it a lot more fun!”

Dabi interjected, sick of the short back-and-forth. “Fuckin’ hell, just say it, you nutjob! Sick of this!” She rolled her eyes, pouting. “So grumpy, Dabi! Well, I say…we tickle him!”

Every man in the room paused, looking at her with varying degrees of “what now?” for her statement. 

“Tickle him? What is this, fuckin’ preschool?”

“Toga, we’re respectable villains, not children.”

“Oh…I mean, uhm, why. What the hell?!”

“C’mon boys, you’re no fun! It would teach him a lesson, and he’d probably stop interrupting your meetings~” Toga said the last bit in a sing-songy voice, making Shigaraki huff. She had won. “Whatever, I don’t care. If it doesn’t work, though, I’m putting chicken wings on the menu.” Their leader left, done with that entire conversation; Toga had his permission, though.

“Are you really not gonna take the opportunity to get back at Hawks? Even after he called you crispy?” The flame user’s nostrils flared; she knew how to play her cards. “FINE! Fine, ya shit, I’ll help! You’re lucky I need revenge…  Twice, c’mon.”

The multi-opinionated villain jumped up, seeming mostly curious and a bit excited to carry out their plan. Well, if you could call the vague outline of “tickle Hawks until he stops being an ass” a plan. Still, they were ready.

-

Hawks was sitting at the bar counter, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He was bored, and the news was rather unhelpful in keeping him up-to-date. He was in a sort of daze, so much so that he didn’t notice the three villains sneaking up behind him. 

Twice took one more step, though that seemed to be a wrong move; the floorboard squeaked, alerting Hawks of their presence. He whipped his head around, seeing the three of them “sneaking” towards him. Oh hell no…

He immediately tried to fly away before realizing that he couldn’t; he had depleted his wings in a fight a few days prior. He was stuck with running. The hero took off, zipping into the back room of the bar. 

The villain trio followed, though Dabi wasn’t putting his full effort into it. Twice ducked through one of the roundabout doors, running through the back halls. Right as Hawks flung another door open to try and escape, he was greeted by two wide cloth eyes. Not good!

Twice tackled him, calling out to Dabi for the taller man to restrict the winged hero. Dabi grabbed Hawks, keeping his hands pinned behind his back as he practically marched the other man back into the main bar. The flame user forced Hawks to sit, using Toga’s red scarf thing to bind his hands together. “Let me go! When I get loose, you guys are-”

Toga pretty much cut him off, too eager to wait any longer. She bent her fingers into claws, running them down both sides of him. He squeaked, biting his lip to restrain the giggles bubbling in his throat. He failed pretty quickly.

The blood enthusiast cooed, speeding up her tickling fingers. “Heya birdie~! You’ve been trying to get us to laugh aaall week! Figured we could give you your turn!” Hawks thrashed a bit, realizing two things: one, dabi was behind him and very close to his wings, and two, he was completely stuck. Shit. “G-gehet off mehehehe!”

Dabi spun the stool a bit, exposing more of Hawks’ front and giving the two other villains more access. His own fingers wormed their ways between his wing bases and his back, tickling furiously; man was wasting no time. The duality of Toga’s gentler teasing and Dabi’s ruthless scribbles drew deep, panicky belly laughter from him. “H-HEHEHEY! DAHABI, NAHAT- GYAAHAHA!”

“Ooooh, bad spot~ Get ‘im, Dabi!” Toga cooed close to Hawks’ ear, her fingers teasing along his ribcage and sides. Now that the man was more exposed, Twice joined in, his hands as split as his personality. The left was lightly clawing at his stomach while the other was digging into the back of his knee. The most wonderful noise Toga had ever heard left his lips; a snorty squeal.

“Awwwww, Hawks~! That’s soooo cute! Twice, make him do it again!” The man continued to torment Hawks’ knee, pulling more loud laughter and a few snorts from him. “TWIHIHI- *snrk* FUHUHAHACK OHOFF!” “Wow, you’re ticklish! He’s like a human squeak toy!” Toga giggled, absolutely delighted; it was like a deranged kid in a candy store.

While those boisterous reactions were great and all, Dabi was out for revenge, not playtime. Looking over the bird man’s wings, he noticed just how much they were twitching from the scribbling on the bases. The most they would move, though, was when Dabi got closer, his breath slightly ruffling a few feathers. Oh…oh that’s perfect.

Leaning in closer, Dabi whispered in the hero’s ear, the smirk clear in his voice. “Get ready to sing for me, birdie~” Hawks squeaked at the buzz on his ear, his eyes widening when he realized just where Dabi was. Toga and Twice were still going to town, giving him no reprieve. It wasn’t as bad as when Dabi was on his wings, but that would soon change. “Dahahabi noho! Ihi- I’ll kihihill youhuhuhu!”

Completely ignoring the other man’s pleas, Dabi lowered his mouth to the depleted wings, gently nibbling on the very top of the frame. 

Hawks practically shrieked, his back arching as he tried to get away. Toga grabbed his waist, both wanting to continue and help out her fellow tickler. “DAHAHAHAHA! *snrk* NAHAHAT THEHERE!”

Dabi just chuckled against his wings, sneaking small kisses in with the nibbles. The other man’s reactions, while adorable, were fulfilling his need for revenge quite nicely. It was also hilarious to see a pro hero absolutely destroyed by something so simple. “What’s wrong, bird brain? Does it tickle?”

At that point, what Twice and Toga were doing was nothing; his wings were horrid, especially with bites and the like. If he could, he’d send his feathers after Dabi to get him off. His wings were left with only smaller feathers, however, and he couldn’t focus enough to control them if he tried.

As much as the man hated to do it, he was really close to his breaking point. Throwing in the white flag, Hawks tried to call the mercy plea, though he had no idea which one to use. “S-STAHAHAP! REHED, UHUNCLE, C’MOHOHON!”

Dabi snickered, taking a quick break from the nibbles and kisses to tease Hawks’ ear once again. “You gotta promise to behave, songbird~ No more sass.” Then, without giving the winged hero a chance to speak, he blew a raspberry right on the base of one of Hawks’ wings. 

That man lost his shit.

“NYAAAAHAHA! *srk* DAHAHA-” The man’s laughter went silent as Dabi blew another raspberry, the killer vibrations spreading all throughout his wings and flooding his senses. The vibration sensitivity in his wings was amazing for flight combat, but it was like an Achillies heel in that moment. Tears of mirth gathered in the corners of his eyes, his thrashing almost tripling.

Toga, of all people, felt a bit bad for Hawks. She liked the bird a bit and had already gotten her fill of his laughter. Plus, the silent stuff was no fun. “Awe, Dabi, give him a break. We don’t wanna kill him; he won’t be able to laugh anymore!”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled his head away; it was almost cute how quickly the man slumped back onto his chest. He was exhausted. 

Panting and trying to regain his composure, Hawks giggled off the residual tickles. Both of his wings were buzzing with ticklish energy, his face red and his mind reeling. “Hoho- hohohoholy shihit…” Looking around, he noticed the expectant looks he was getting. He’d rather not risk that happening again so soon. “Ihi prohohomise to…to stohop sassing youhu guhuhuhuys. Hahappy?”

A small sound came from behind him; something strangely close to an amused snort as Dabi chuckled. “Ecstatic. You’re a mess, bird brain.” Toga leaped forwards, getting very into Hawks’ personal space and smiling. “Oh my, that was adorable! You look so cute when you beg~!” Twice chuckled behind her, both sides of him amused with what happened.

The moment Dabi untied his hands, Hawks stormed off, shutting and locking the door to his temporary room in the bar. Having achieved their goal, the three villains split ways, each going to do their respective business. Dabi went to stalk the city’s nighttime scene, Twice decided to play video games, and Toga updated her tabs on poor Midoriya. While they all did their own thing, all three of them were thinking about what had just happened. 

Even Hawks, who would have preferred to forget it ever happened, laid on his bed with the event running through his mind. He’d definitely be watching his mouth from then on…

[spideyhexx]

1 am thoughts with kit;

nsfw

also inspired by some talks with @goosita <3

The entire build up to your orgasm, Eddie’s lips are at your ear, kissing and nipping at your skin, his breath hot. His hair tickles you, but your hands find purchase in it, playing with it just the way he likes.

The way that makes him hold your hips tighter and push his dick deeper into you as he slowly thrusts, muttering, “there you go, sweetheart, almost here yeah? Almost there, god you’re so…you’re so beautiful.”

You let out a more strained moan that you muffle by humming through it and he shushes you gently, “I know, gotta tell me, sweetheart, you’re there?”

With a nod and slight buck of your hips to his, you tell him, “yeah…right there, Eddie…just a little more.”

He bites back a groan of his own and picks up the pace, his little nips to your earlobe still so gentle, never truly biting down on you. The harshest thing you feel is his lips moving beneath your ear and sucking on the skin there because he knows that’s your spot.

“Always so pretty like this,” he says, smiling against your skin, helping you move your hips to meet his. His mattress is off slightly on his bed frame, and you can both hear the slight noise of it creaking on the floor but he distracts you from it quick, “oh there you go squeezing me, kills me, sweetheart,” and gives your hip an affectionate squeeze.

It makes you smile, and he doesn’t even need to lift his head to know that’s your reaction to his words. Eddie’s hand sneaks down to rub your clit, relishing in the way your body arches to him at the feeling. His calloused fingers rubbing deft circles nice and quick to time with his thrusts picking up, “come on, baby,” he whispers, “you’re so pretty when you come, lemme see it, just for me, c’mon.”

He has the right of mind to move his hand to your mouth when your orgasm washes over you, burying himself in you to help you ride it out as good as it can be before he pulls out. Eddie moves his hand from your mouth and you watch, panting as he jerks his cock twice before painting your stomach in his cum, a breathy sound leaving his lips, forehead to your chest.

You rake your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp in a soothing manner, focusing on his breaths against you.

“Babe. I think that’s a new record. Four minutes,” he mumbles, glancing at the clock near his bed. You scoff and hit his shoulder playfully, and he just shoots you a cute grin before moving down the bed.

“Eddie, no, im too sensitive,” you whine at him and he smiles even wider.

“While I love to taste you, that wasn’t my intention.”

Eddie flicks out his tongue to lick some of his cum off of your tummy. You don’t know whether to roll your eyes at it or moan. His eyes stay on you, big and dazed still from his orgasm, but also stuck on your beauty, not wanting to waste any second from looking away. The taste of himself isn’t something he cares or thinks about, only focused on the way you look at him, amused and still full of desire for him.

His tongue makes you ticklish the more he licks up his cum, and he knows it. “Eddie, I think you got it all,” and you flick his ear, to which he scoffs.

“No, I think I gotta keep licking, babe,” to which he purposely licks a stripe agaisnt your side where he knows you’re gonna get ticklish.

You squirm and chuckle, and it only makes him lick you again, his hands tight on your hips to keep you still. And his nose presses into your side, he stills like he’s done, but then he makes a growling noise, biting gently all over your skin from your one side to the other.

All the while, he can’t contain his smile over your laughs.

[kanene-yaaay]

The Shine in My Eyes (Can Someone Turn Off The Lights?)

Kanene’s notes: Heya heyaaa! I received that request AGES ago and thank you very much for your patience, bean! I hope you like the story, even tho I strayed from the original prompt.

I didn’t proofread it because I really wanted to post it as soon as I could sdfghjjhgfd so maybe some parts are confusing or repetitive, pls just hmu if that is the case ^.^)

Warnings: Light angst and hurt/comfort. Light and rough tickles. Ticklish!Reader and Ler!Moon. Around 4.000 words. Can be platonic or romantic. Sun is mentioned.

[~*~]

“Sleep?” The raspy voice questioned, so quiet that you would almost believe that it was part of your imagination if it wasn’t the amount of times you heard that same question in the last months. It spiked a warm feeling on your chest.

You would almost smile if it wasn’t the mild headache taking over your entire brain. 

“No.”

Cold, metallic hands touched your elbow, leading to an involuntary flinch that quickly disappeared when your mind catched up to whom the hand was. Moon continued, traveling his hands upwards your arm with careful, light and slow touches, telegraphing his movements enough that you could perfectly picture his form slouched next to you on the couch, head tilted, attentive eyes watching your body language and scans looking for signals of distress. It was good that you didn’t even need to open your own eyes to see that, knowing pretty well that doing so would only aggravate your pain.

Frustration ran hot on your throat, making you clench your jaw in response. Your eyes itched, still aching after hours staring at the computer’s screen after an entire morning of going out to do chores and shopping. There was an uncomfortable pressure on the back of your head. Yesterday it all wasn’t good either. This sucked. This really sucked.

Moon pulled you up from the urge to give up to the darkest thoughts peeking on the corner of your mind by taking the light fabric over your eyes and changing it for another one, damp from being recently bathed in cold water. A relieved sigh flees through your lips, your fists unclenching (when did you start pressing your nails in your palms again?) and being lifted to clean a couple of stray tears that now ran across your cheeks.

Two bigger hands overlapped yours, silicone digits wiping the water away before a humming began filling the air. You could almost picture the way the animatronic’s body was swaying from one side to another in the rhythm of the lullaby.

“Fuzzy, fuzzy.” The touch quickly changed directions so it would be playing with your hair, massaging and scratching your scalp with the skill of an animatronic that passed weeks fixated on human hairs and would spend another plentiful of weeks being amazed by their softness, form and type, waiting for you to lower your guards so he could try to convince you to let him try another hairstyle. Maybe you should consider buying them a wing. Sun would love it. You could almost hear the uncontrollably, excited rambling already. A small grin grazed your lips. A finger booped your nose. “You’re fuzzy because you’re tired. Sleep. Go to sleep.”

“Contrary to your belief, sleep doesn’t solve all the problems in the world.” Moon huffed at the lightheaded poke of fun, instead choosing to pinch your poor nose in retaliation. You swatted at his general direction, knowing very well it wouldn’t hit the target nevertheless. It was the thought that counts. “Besides, if I take a nap now it will destroy my sleep schedule for today. I am at least trying to keep it healthy.”

More like, you had now two animatronics that would either began to fuzz over your bad habits, nervously twisting his fingers and anxiously spinning his sunrays, hovering and doing his best to make you feel better while trying to not overstep any boundaries and respect your (bad) choices or follow you at night with light steps and clicking sounds, calmly and happily accompanying you through your chosen night activities while also attempting to subtly nudge you to the direction of your room (and, consequently, your bed).

Of course, every now and then all of you would have your missteps. Some days Sun would tremble uncontrollably and hug you tightly when you tried to go out, chatting non stop over your and Moon’s attempts to comfort him. Another nights you would move too quickly or suddenly and Moon’s eyelights would go to a bright red and he would tackle you on the floor, body frozen on a security code he no longer had, but that still affected him. Other weeks everything would feel too much and you would push them far and away and wonder when it all came to this. Why did all came to this.

But… 

But then there were also be days where Sun would skip around the house, a happy humming that made his entire circuits vibrate - and kind of reminded you of a cat - on the tip of his tongue, a batch of homemade cookies or a new colored drawing waiting for you after a long day. There would be moments when your presence and Moon’s comforting, teasy banter would be able to make his sunrays twitch less anxiously and for him to smile brighter, every shoulder bump, every poke, every half hug and every lingering touch would be a promise and a confession (I am here I am here I care I am here).

There would be moments when Moon would come at your room with his hands once again tangled in a mess of yarn’s strands and he would grumble at your light pokes of fun and refuse to tell about his new project so he could catch you and Sun by surprise and tease you both about your reactions afterwards. There would be nights when he would be frozen and twitchy and feel the worst because he can’t get his body to move and you would start telling him about your day, about a funny meme you saw on internet and and interesting something he maybe didn’t know yet about humans or the world that exists around them, and then, bit by bit, he would be able to move (his entire systems blastring friend friend my friend my dear friend over and over above the instinct of threat catch eliminate) and you would watch a movie.

And there would be moments when you gave them surprise gifts because it seems like their wonder about the world, the universe and humanity would never disappear no matter how much time they spent out of that mall. There would be days they would leave warm dishes and hot drinks on your desk, when they would hug and hold you close when you were ready to face them, when they would listen to you and sing soft lullabies or distract you with games and banter until a smile and a soft feeling took over the sadness and red eyes.

There would be days that you spent looking for new activities or experiences the animatronics hadn’t tried yet, preparing another good memory for them to have. There would be afternoons when Sun would dance with you across the living room because he knew how much you loved that song. There would be evenings when Moon would wipe your tears and distract you from your aching eyes because he knew that bad thoughts are easier to fight when you’re not alone.

Evenings just like this one.

“Thinking too hard.” Moon pressed his thumb firmly on your forehead, pulling you out of your thoughts (again). “Too hard. Must rest. Sush.”

You snorted. “Wow. Thank you, man. I have no idea how I lived until now without your rich life advices.”

“Cheeky brat.” A playful poke was jabbed on your side, fishing a surprised yelp from your lips. 

Silence.

“Let’s play a game.”

A jumpy ‘zing!’ ran across your spine at the dangerous and incredibly joyful tune that took over his raspy voice, and you immediately knew that there wouldn’t be another ending for this day other than you becoming a mess of laughter on the couch. Still, even when a wobbly smile stretched on your face you tried to sound firm.

“No.” It didn’t work very well. There was no heat in it, titters already bubbling in the back of your throat. Your arms began moving and flailing in the general direction of his snickers.  “Moon, no. Give me your hands. Give me your hands right no-o-ow, come on!” Your words began fading and twinkling in between stubborn giggles and squeaks as a wave of pokes and squeezes began attacking your entire torso from seemingly everywhere. 

"Sorrrrry, Moonlight. Can you repeat that?" He was prodding your ribs now, tapping his fingers on each one of them, escaping from your grabbing hands with ease, not taking long before his attack changed to a light pinching of that absurdly vulnerable spot that connected your belly with your sides. His delighted tune showed that he was not sorry at all. "Can't hear you over all of those wiggly giggly giggles. Care to repeat what you just said? Hm?"

His attacks were getting even harder to predict, the cloth on your eyes helping in nothing your current state, actually, the fact that you couldn’t see where he would strike next only made butterflies fly excitedly on your nerves.

Before a reply could leave your mouth, however, his hands began spidering all across your midsection, digits fluttering and dancing on your stomach, barely scratching the sensitive skin next to your bellybutton, teasing and worming their way up and down, from a side to another on your stomach, exploring and tickling every available space until it could calmly rest on your hips, still softly scribbling the ticklish spot with no worries in his heart.

It was hard to not squirm with the tickles, even more so to control the yelps and chuckles that kept falling from your mouth like a waterfall. Especially with Moon's taunting squeezes that never failed to appear when you never expected and fish a squeaky snort.

You tried to talk once again.

He digged his fingers just the slightly bit on the flesh of your hips.

Your hands flew to hold his wrists, lips pressed firmly shut with the willpower that he, the evil jester, the mean clown wouldn't get not even a single more yelp from you.

"I think someone wants to laugh. ~" The whispering wasn't even that close, the animatronic not even having a breath to make it so taunting but you still felt the urge to scrunch your neck and protect your sensitive ears, knowing very well they were one of their favorite places to attack. "Someone here, a very ticklish, very giggly and silly-silly-silly someone wants to laugh sooo much right now… isn’t that right, starlight?"

His hands (still being held but not pushed away by yours) calmly crawled across your sides, drumming on your ribs and still going up until both of them laid on your shoulders, scribbles and scratches leading their way up to your chin, leading your squirms even worse with all the giddy anticipation that traveled across your nerves and made it hard to stay still in the same place.

"Such precious, beautiful laughter and giggles trapped right here." He tsked, one of his hands traveling slowly - all his movements now were surprisingly and still slow, as if he was telegraphing his moves for you - to tease the underline of your jaw. "Greedy, greedy. Wanting to keep all of your adorable reactions all for yourself. You need to learn to share."

His voice was closer. Much closer than before. Danger sirens blasted on your brain but the effort to not laugh and succumb to the ticklish scratches now focusing on unfairly attacking the shell of your ears and the spot right behind them distracted you too much to realize what was about to happen. Why was his voice closer? 

A low, half filled with joy and half with mischief chuckle filled the air. And suddenly you knew the answer. 

“Moon, don’t you dare-!” But it was too late, the unbearable buzzing already taking over your senses, the raspberry spreading like electricity across every single inch of ticklish skin on your neck, pulling all the laughter, all the squeaks, snorts and titters from their hiding spots, making a smile stretch from a side to another on your face.

It didn’t last more than one or two minutes, however. And soon enough Moon was changing and re-adjusting the cloth over your eyes since the last one was already dry and it had fallen from its place with all the struggles. It was dark and your vision was still slightly blurry, but the smirk over the other’s faceplate was crystal clear, his head spinning twice before it bobbed in your direction. 

You mentioned for him to come closer, giggles still running away from your mouth uncontrollably. When he did as asked, your hands held his face with care, thumbs caressing the metal of his cheeks, red eyes watching your expression with adoration and wariness.

“I…” You took a good gulp of oxygen, letting your voice in a sweet, lovely tune, giant smile still plastered on your features. “Will destroy you once I’m free.”

The wheezing sound that came out of his system was loud and uncontrollable, a few parts of his exoskeleton clicking non stop in a kind of amusement that only happened when his guard was down and he was caught by surprise.

You probably just made it even worse to yourself. It was clear for the way that Moon’s eyes squinted until they looked like a crooked smile.

But the promise was worth it. Maybe you could even ask for Sun’s help. His teases were basically unbearable to endure.

“Lay down, lay down, troublemaker.” Careful touches pushed your shoulders so they would go back to a laying position, the piece of fabric being again put over your eyes and bringing a sense of cold relief. It almost made up for the fact that you were walking to a trap.

Well, at least it was a comfortable one.

“Perrrrrfect.” You felt Moon lifting your legs, sitting on the free space on the couch and then laying said ones on his lap. “You laughed, now it means you have to play my game.~”

You wondered if you would be able to get to your room and lock yourself before the animatronic could catch you.

As if reading your thoughts, two hands locked on the spot right above your knees, not squeezing (not yet) but being close enough that a wobbly tune began painting your grin and the need to wiggle away started itching on your nerves.

“Alright.” You acquiesced, the grumpy pout being quickly erased when a single finger skittered on the ticklish skin under your knees. Cheater. “Alright. What is the game?” 

“Say the word.” Confusion must have shown on your face, because Moon continued his sentence. “I write and you say the word, right, squeaky mouse?” As if to confirm his words, he clawed your kneecap, fishing a squeal.

You didn’t answer right away, the squeezes became more and more quicker.

“Ok, ok!!” Kicks did nothing to dislodge the attack, and by the way Moon snickered, he knew very well that. Laughter began bubbling once again on your throat. “I agree! I already agrehehehed, stohohop!”

Satisfied, the animatronic relented his tickling, hands not more touching anything.

Strangely enough that only made you feel even more ticklish, tingles and shivers running and spreading everywhere.

“Guess.”

And then they were back.

The tip of his index finger touches your thigh in a straight line, goosebumps following the scribbling as it changed to lay in the middle of the previous straight line only to make another, tiny, tickly, horribly tickly bolts of electricity teasing the nerves as he repeated the sign, over and over again.

“Guess.”

An only finger dancing and tracing your thigh. It shouldn’t be able to tickle so much. It shouldn’t affect you this much. But it was so light. It was so unbearably light and soft. It was…

It was a letter.

“Ihihihi! It’s an ‘I’!”

“Yesss.” Moon seemed delighted at the snickers, more than happy to see you playing along the silly game and forgetting the reason for your earlier tears. “Second one. Four letters” He got closer to your knee, but instead of one, now two fingers danced and scratched the sensitive skin, going up - once again in a straight line - before going down and to the right - another line, - repeating the movements thrice before moving to the kneecap, softly tracing circles on it again and again and again and again and-

“Move on!” You could feel the heat creeping on your neck and face, the airy giggles becoming more and more frenetic and uncontrollable as the previous daycare attendant refused to focus his attention elsewhere. He did, however, continue after a few more seconds, not wanting to scramble your thoughts so much. 

Moon lifted your leg just a little bit, just enough for him to reach with no problem behind your knee, pulling his touch downwards before going right up, as if his touch was doing little jumps on the spot, zings and more zings of tickly electricity pulling hints of snorts on your reactions.

Lowering his tracing a bit more he arrived to your calf. One straight line up. One to the right. Go a tad downwards the first line. Another line. More downwards. One more line.

He began repeating the tracing. You felt like all of your other tickle spots were tingling in empathy for the calve’s struggles.

“Lohohove! It’s ‘I love’!” A wheeze escaped from your lips and filled the air. Was he really writing I love you? “That is so chehehesy.”

“Sush, sush, sush, cute teapot.” A couple of squeezes. More kicks in protest. “Third word. Five letters.”

Wait. Five?

Now, Moon moved closer to your ankles, three fingers scribbling and drawing the letters, slipping way too close to your soles for it to be only a mistake. It took him having to ‘write’ the word more three times since your brain simply erased any and every knowledge as soon as he felt those nails scraping the skin of  your ankles.

“Being!” You shouted, once again descending in breathless laughter and squirms when the animatronic confirmed that your guess was right, firmly rubbing and massaging the sensitive skin so that you could get a break and breathe more steadily. 

It took a while before snorts and quiet squeals stopped taking over your voice and your legs stopped tingling and sending shivers across your body. You didn’t even was usually that ticklish on your legs, but the mix of light and soft teases and not being able to see what he would do next making your sensitivity spike to the sky.

The game had a logic, however. Thighs, knees, calves, ankles… If you weren’t mistaken, then the next one would be…

Another ‘zing!’ ran down your spine.

“Last word. Seven letters.”

Seven letters.

I love being…

“Wait, wait, wait!” You tried pulling your legs away, but the hands were keeping them nice and cozy in his firm grip. The cloth fell from your eyes and you looked for his, an unstable, pleading grin on your face. “Moon, wait, you know I can’t!” His eyes only squinted more in mischief, smirk growing on his mouth unashamedly. That son of a- “I can’t say it, Moon, please! I swear Moon, I cahahan’t!”

He lifted his hands, fingers wiggling in the air. For a moment you thought that the sentient robot was waving you goodbye since he was about to absolutely kill you dead. But then you heard it.

A faint buzzing, dancing and filling the room.

“No!”

The clawing hand slowly began moving to your feet.

“Last word. Five letters.”

“Don’t you dare!” You had no idea how your voice didn’t break any windows with how high pitched and loud it was, the hysterical, belly laughter already bubbling in the back of your throat as pleas fell like flocks from your lips. “Moon, don’t you dare! No! Come on! Do NOT-”

The buzzing, still discharging small ticklish sparks of electricity touched your sole.

Everything, for a blissful moment, froze.

Then it all came crashing down.

The buzzing filled every single inch of your nerves, tickling in ways that should be illegal, especially as the animatronic - the traitor - began moving to trace the spot as if you could concentrate in the letters being written over all the incoherent babbles and pleas that generously painted the laughter taking over your senses.

You already knew the word that was being written, and was very aware that said one didn’t need all the scratches being delivered to the arch of your feet, or the scribbles that attacked without mercy the balls of your feet and digged under and in between your toes, wiggling and tickling and tickling there without a care in the word.

“I will write it again.” Moon basically purred, sounding too much like the perfect personification of a very smug cat. “Pay attention, gigglebug.”

Before you could protest the fingers were once again traveling across your soles, repeating the attacks and now focusing on all the weak spots they found in their way, fishing plentiful of squeals, squeals, yelps, giggles, titters and snorts in their way.

Everything stayed like that for a few pieces of time. Laughing filling the air, buzzing and tickling taking over every sense. The melodious symphony fulfilling hearts.

And then it stopped.

Moon chuckled, once again rubbing the spot so the ghost tickle feeling would disappear faster, even if your remanent tittering laughter still stretched between you both.

“Did you discover the word?” 

You opened your eyes, wiping a few tears that escaped and trying to look chastising at the robot in front of you, although your burrowed frown didn’t hold any heat, especially with the wide smile still blossoming on your face, shining eyes staring directly at him.

Moon only chuckled more.

“Alright, alright. Troublemaker. But one day you’ll have to admit that you love it.~” 

Before you could answer with a snarky remark, the animatronic surprised you by picking you up and laying down on the couch, letting you rest on his chest.

“Game is not over. One more sentence.” It was an affirmation, but you lived enough with him to recognize the questioning tune in his words.

“No more.” You established.

He grumbled. You were pretty sure that if he could pout, he would.

Silence.

“Gentle tickles…?” 

A sigh left your lungs at the hopeful feeling in his voice.

“… Sssstarlight?”

And how could you ever say no to that?

“Ok. But only light ones.” You agreed. Because when it came to Sun and Moon you had a piece of butter in the place that should be your heart, as it seems.

Moon began carelessly grazing the tip of his fingers on your back, the tickles just light enough to make one or two giggles jump here and there, a pleasant feeling of comfort and softness spreading and relaxing your muscles, making them melt and a warmth to blossom on your chest.

So caring. So comfortable. So soft…

Your mind began drifting away, breaths coming out more steadily, thoughts becoming less and less coherent as the minutes passed by.

You only realized Moon’s plan too late, when your conscience was already slipping away and the tiredness of the day was already catching up.

That freaking cheater.

Well, at least it was probably already late enough that a quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

[gilverrwrites]

More details about Jason reaction having for the first time having a toy put on him ? He definitely wasn’t expecting THAT much of a sensation.

The post in reference for anyone unaware.

(Kinda) subby Jason twice in as many days? Who am I? Will I be getting my sub card revoked for this?

CWs: Swearing, spit, and brief sub-drop.

You’re right, no he fucking wasn’t.

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to be honest but it’s not this, and you’re so damn coy with it, keeping him on edge, teasing that poor 6’2 of raging muscles boy.

When you press the vibrating head of it against the base his whole-body tenses, fighting off the ticklish sensation; all his muscles stiffen, toes curling, balls tight, and his shaft twitches. When he relaxes again, he thinks that’s it. He laughs as you slowly, gently drag it up his length, deliberately lingering on the pronounced veins you know are extra perceptive.

“Ahh.” He can’t help giggling, voice strained and unusually but endearingly boyish as he tells you; “That tickles.”  

You respond with a mischievously cocked brow, and he’s suddenly struck with feelings of dread and excitement. He knows you’re up to something when your fingers lock onto the base of his cock.

The moment he feels the vibrations on his tip, his whole boy involuntarily jerks until he’s gone from confidently splayed atop the bed to suddenly being slouched, legs wide and in the air, head thrown back. He has a death grip on what he hopes isn’t you, otherwise you’ll be bruised in the morning. Right now he’s too overwhelmed to check.

“Fuck.” His throat feels tight as he stammers out a mantra of hoarse curses. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”

It just feels so fucking good, the shaking and the way you’re jerking the shaft with your spit-slicked hand. Fuck. He’s throbbing. Fuck. He didn’t know he could even get this hard.

“Does that feel good baby?” You ask.

“Fuck. Yes.” He answers through gritted teeth. “God yes, please don’t stop dontstopdontstop.”

“How about this?”

Suddenly the tempo changes, increases, and his body jolts again. This time though he lets out a wicked spurt of precum that drips down, mixing with your saliva and spiting droplets across the bed in time with the strongest pulses.  

You could watch him like this all day, red-faced and gleaning under a layer of sweat. Every time you make a sudden move or switch up settings his jaw clenches and his eyes shoot to the back of his head. Quite the opposite of the cool and brooding front he puts on the world; for you, he’s open, and soft and whimpering.

Then, not long after you start driving the wand up and down his cock, fast this time, he’s cumming. Rope after rope of it shooting into the air, most of it landing on his hard stomach. Fuck, there’s so much of it, he’s never cum so much in his goddamn life and he’s suddenly feeling sheepish. He knows you've watched him through every whining, toe-curling step, you've already seen his burning cheeks, but he's not used to being on this end of the stick, not used to being the one feeling timid and exposed when it's all over.

Attempting to comfort himself, he conceals his face in the nearest pillow and focuses on breathing until he feels his dick cease its convulsing and the shame begin to wash off of him.

You’re lightly dabbing at his spillage with a tissue when he peeks out at you. You smile back at him all kind and patient when you see him. It makes him feel like an ass for hiding from you. Next time he won’t do that, next time he’ll look you in the eye, he’ll say your name like a prayer and thank you for making him feel so fucking good.

[goosita]

they absolutely do.

he’s got you pinned down to the mattress, hips rolling into you slow and hard. he can feel you dragging your nails down his back hard enough to make him bleed, but scratches heal just as rapidly as you give them to him.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he growls, lips right at your ear. his beard brushes against your cheek, soft and ticklish in stark contrast to the way he’s fucking you slow and hard.

“m’so fuckin’ close,” he rumbles, trying his best not to tremble. he’s already made you cum 4 times, twice on his tongue, once on his fingers, and one more time on his cock. he can feel that you can’t take much more. “hold onto me, babydoll. gonna fuckin’ cum inside you.”

his hands quickly release your hips, bracing himself on his palms on either side of your head. You hear the soft snikt! of his claws coming out, piercing into the pillows. the sound he makes is enough to make your tummy do flips, rough and low and deep. his voice is an animalistic rasp as he keeps rambling towards the edge of his orgasm.

“so fuckin’ perfect for me, i’m so close.”

[trumanbluee]

Can I request Wade finding out his female s/o squirts please?

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it!

word count: 1.3k

warnings: squirting, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk (its the merc with the mouth, what do you expect?)

a/n: had a bit of writers block this week but wanted to post this!!! thank you so much for the request! <3 also im sorry my tags aren't working & tumblr is only letting me tag some people in my taglist! im sorry :(

There's no denying it, Wade likes it dirty. So the first time he makes you squirt, he's fucking ecstatic.

He's got you in nothing but his over-sized shirt, on your back, legs suspended in the air, a pillow beneath your hips as he runs his fingers teasingly along your slit, his fingers coming up glistening with slick.

He's already made you cum twice, your juices smearing up the inside of your thighs as Wade overstimulates you, a single finger circling your bud gently.

"So wet for me, angel, and only made you cum, what, twice?" he teases, bringing his hand up to his face and popping his fingers into his mouth, moaning exaggeratedly, his eyes rolling back into his head comically. You giggle at his theatrics, pushing his bare shoulder playfully with your foot.

He grins at you, grabbing your ankle before you can pull your foot away, and leans down, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and you moan softly, hips bucking off the bed slightly.

He pulls away, pressing a ticklish kiss to the sole of your foot, pulling a giggle from your lips. He smiles against your skin, trailing kisses up your leg before he reaches your glistening pussy. He groans at the sight, using both his hands to spread your lips apart before pressing an open mouthed kiss right on your clit.

You let out a loud moan at the sudden contact, hips bucking up off the bed. Wade tuts, pushing your hips back down as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs.

One of his hands stays thrown across your lower abdomen, holding you down gently, the other coming down to spread your lips apart, allowing him to lick a strip from your dripping hole to the top, his tongue circling around your clit harshly.

You whine, brows furrowing as he holds your hips down onto the bed, soft pants and moans slipping from your lips as he begins lapping at your pussy, his hand holding you open slowly moving down.

You feel him tease a single digit at your entrance, and whine impatiently, one of your hands coming down to grab the back of Wade's head, pushing his mouth onto your cunt.

You hear a loud slurp, your hips jolting as Wade sucks at your clit, pushing a single digit into your well-fucked-out hole. You whine, trying to roll your hips and press his finger deeper into you.

"...S'not enough," you whimper, nails scratching Wade's head as you try and press him deeper into your cunt, a wet noise sounding from your pussy as he lazily fingers you with one finger.

Wade pulls off of your pussy, lips and chin shining with your juices, a sly smirk on his face.

"..Y'want more do ya, baby?" he asks, voice full of faux pity as he stills the pumps of his singular digit, pulling it out completely, making it so he's not touching you at all.

You feel as though you could cry, and you whimper, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes, a mix of overstimulation and desperation. Wade looks up at you from where his face is hovering mere millimetres from your cunt, eyes softening at your red cheeks and teary eyes.

"Oh, my princess," he coos in faux-pity, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your right thigh, sucking gently, "What'dya need, angel?"

He teases two fingers through your slit again, collecting your wetness on his middle and ring finger.

You whine, eyes shut tight as you try and muster the means to speak.

"...Need...Fuck--"

You're interrupted by Wade blowing a gust of cold air over your pussy, the muscles in your stomach tightening as goosebumps bloom on the skin of your thighs. He chuckles from between your legs, continuing to press soft, open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs.

You whine, hips bucking up, and Wade pushes them back down with an arm across your waist, but takes mercy on you, pressing his hot mouth to your clit in a sloppy kiss. You jolt, moaning softly.

Without warning, Wade slips his middle and pointer finger into you, curling upwards. Your head is thrown back, and he quickens the pace of his fingers, your slick dripping down his chin as he easily adds a third finger.

You keen loudly, shaky thighs instinctually closing around Wade's head and hand as he laps at your cunt, his index, pointer, and ring fingers curling perfectly inside you, rubbing your spot just right.

You feel a pressure building in your belly, one of your hands playing with your nipples as you bring the other down to grip onto Wades arm on your stomach. He grabs your hand without looking, squeezing softly, before applying pressure to your lower stomach.

"...Oh...Fuck! ...Shit!" You moan, eyes squeezed shut as your back arches off the bad at a particularly harsh swirl of Wade's tongue on your clit. Wade feels your walls clench around his fingers and keeps his pace, continuing the subtle curl of his fingers inside you.

Slurping sounds fill the room, mixed with your high-pitched moans as the tension builds more and more in your belly. Wade suckles at your clit as you fist the bedsheets in your hand, the other still tugging harshly on your nipples.

You feel your stomach tighten and your thighs clench impossibly hard around Wade's head as the coil in your stomach snaps, your back arching up off the bed with the help of the pillow beneath your ass. Wade swirls his tongue over your clit at a rapid pace, curling his fingers hard before he feels you gush over his hand.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" You exclaim, toes curling as they dangle over Wade's shoulders. Your eyes roll back in your head, and your brain goes fuzzy as you feel yourself cumming.

He groans against your pussy, pulling his hand out and his face away, bringing his hand up to play with your clit as he watches you squirt all over him and the bed.

His eyes are wide in bewilderment as he watches you soak him, "..Shit, baby.. y'gushin like fucking Ol' Faithful all over me.."

You're almost in a comatose state as he grins up at you, fucking giddy with excitement. You're laying back on the bed, chest heaving up and down quickly as you try and regain your breathe. You muster the strength to reach down and push Wade's hand off your cunt, whining at the overstimulation.

Wade chuckles, pressing an affectionate pat to your puffy clit before retracting himself completely. You groan softly, pushing him away from your pussy but trying to pull him up the bed towards your face.

He obliges, crawling up the bed to you and leaning against the head of the bed, pulling you to lean your head on his chest.

You sigh contently, a soft smile on your face as you look up at Wade through bleary eyes before nestling your cheek into his peck, exhaustion finding a quick home in your body, your bones and muscles feeling loose and jiggly.

Wade cards a hand through your head, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "Can't believe you just fuckin' squirted, hotstuff," he speaks, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he shakes his head in disbelief.

You giggle against his chest, "..felt so weird."

Wade laughs above you and you hear it rumble in his chest, his hand still carding through your hair affectionately.

"M'not gonna lie, I thought you were just straight up fuckin' pissing for a second." You laugh at this, mustering the energy to playfully slap Wade's bare chest.

"But you better be ready, doll-face," Wade deepens his voice, leaning to whisper right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, "m'gonna be gettin' you to do that all the fuckin' time."

You don't reply, but Wade knows he won't be getting any complaints from you when he sees your thighs rub together as you hide your face against his chest.

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

taglist: @tvwebs @muteprincess @blckbarbiedoll @dwthisuserisalive @catts-world @helpyourself-9 @tiredemzz @starstruckracc @imcrying24 @aintsoprettynow @thedevilsaysthings @darerlin @tokkiwrites

[tokkishouse]

(Sfw) The first time you call him a term of endearment

Characters: Aether, Ayato, Cyno, Gorou, Heizou, Kaeya

Warnings: Fem. leaning nickname in Ayato's (princess), Cyno is implied to be taller than reader, reader is ticklish in Heizou's, mention of alcohol in Kaeya's

WC: 1.4k words total

Pt. 1, Pt. 3

"Aether honey, fetch me my watering pail!" You call out to him, currently hunched over the seeds you had just planted in the soil. You both were doing some tending to the garden you had just recently started in your teapot, and you had just finished the planting process.

You hear the loud crashing and clunking of metal behind you, and you whip your head around to see Aether standing there, hands at his side and gaze focused on you.

"Are you okay?!" You ask, hurriedly rising to your feet to check on him.

"'Honey'...you called me 'honey,'" he breathes out, watching you. You blink once, twice, and then nod.

"I did, yes," you confirm.

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away, pulling his scarf up a bit in an attempt to hide his face. He clears his throat and bends down to grab the watering pail.

"I-I'll just go ahead and get this filled up with water for you," he mumbles and rushes off before you can say anything.

You and Ayato were walking around Inazuma City, soldiers trailing behind to watch over you two. You wanted to see what the merchants were selling, and perhaps say hi to a few old friends.

A jewel in a nearby stand catches your eye, and you drag Ayato over quickly.

"Darling, look! Wouldn't this ruby be beautiful in a necklace?" You coo, leaning down to get a closer look at it.

He falters a bit before he responds, almost taken by surprise by the pet name. Almost. He recovers quickly and responds with his own term of endearment.

"If it pleases my princess, you can have every jewel the owner is selling."

His voice is smooth and the nickname rolls off his tongue flawlessly, sending goosebumps down your back. You look back, eyes bright with excitement while your face is flushed with embarrassment. He gives you a polite smile, as if unaware of the effect of his words on you, and turns to the merchant to make the purchase.

The moon was high, shining through the night sky and down on Sumeru City. The activity was slowed and most everyone inside their homes, save for a few that clung to the shadows, hopeful to take advantage of unsuspecting passerbys. Word spread quickly that the General Mahamatra had returned home though, and those looking to cause trouble quickly dispersed.

"Y/N, I'm back," Cyno announces as he walks inside your home.

He sets aside his polearm and takes off his headpiece, setting it aside on a nearby table. You walk out of the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and clutching a hot mug of tea in your hand. You smile and step closer to your partner.

"Welcome back Cyno. I trust you served justice well?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods and leans forward, resting his head on your shoulder. You feel the weight of his work melt off upon touch and almost fall over due to him putting all his weight on you.

"Alright love, let's get you to bed," you gently chide, setting aside your mug.

He hums-- in delight you deduce, based on the high-range sound, but makes no move to pull away.

"That's new. Instead of cuddling a bed bug, it seems you'll cuddle a lovebug?"

You groan loudly and shove him off of you gently.

"Nevermind, sleep on the couch!"

You and Gorou were helping the soldiers on Watatsumi Island move the crates of supplies around. You'd been at it since sunrise and the fatigue was starting to eat at you. You drop a crate on the ground with an unceremonious thud and groan, rubbing your back. Gorou's ears pick this up and he instantly turns to you, also grabbing the attention of his fellow soldiers.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

He was easy to read-- his tail sways back and forth, kicking up the dirt and anxiety was clearly filling his body. Had he pushed you too hard? You weren't a member of the Kokomi's platoons so technically this wasn't your responsibility-- you had just offered. You wave him off, flashing him a tired smile.

" 's nothing baby. I just need to rest. I'll catch up, yeah?" You explain, slowly sitting down next to one of the crates.

Gorou's tail straightens out instantly, and he's frozen in his spot. His ears are erect and his eyes widen as red spreads across his face. The soldiers are quick to pick up on their general's embarrassment and they start teasing him. You watch on in amusement but say nothing, leaving your partner to defend himself.

"Heiiiizooooou," you whine loudly as you lay on the couch.

He said that he wouldn't take too long on analyzing some reports for a case he was working on, promising to give you attention shortly. A promise that was made about 45 minutes ago. He always got sucked into his work and while usually, you were fine with that, you were feeling extra clingy today.

"Yesssss Y/N?" He matches your tone, poking his head out from his office. You huff.

"You promised you wouldn't take long. Surely your case can wait an hour or two!" He tsks at you disappointedly, shaking his head.

"Patience is a virtue, Y/N. You have to learn how to exhibit it! You wouldn't want me to let this criminal escape, would you? Imagine all the harm they could cause to Inazuma, or to you! My sweet darling lover!" Heizou mock faints, pressing a hand on his head for dramatic effect, earning an eye roll from you.

"Are you saying you wouldn't be able to take them? Getting weak are we babe?" You gripe, crossing your arms.

He stops in his place and looks at you properly, green eyes blinking owlishly.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" You ask, bringing a hand up to your cheek. He shakes his head, face cracking into a grin.

"I'm your babe, am I?" He teases, slithering over. "Am I your honey bunny too? Your baby? Your sweet love bug and apple of my eye?" With each sickeningly sweet nickname he lists off, he applies more pressure on your body as he tickles you.

You squeal in surprise, kicking your legs in an attempt to get him away. Laughter fills the room and your pleas for him to stop are ignored in favor of hitting all your ticklish spots. In all the excitement, you fail to notice the shine in Heizou's eyes and the tips of his ears turning red.

You and Kaeya had decided to stop by Angel's Share for a drink and to harass Diluc while he worked. The bartender was as curt as ever to him, not letting the calvary captain's teasings get to him. He was always cordial with you though-- never giving you a hard time. He only ever seemed to express disappointment with you when asking about what you saw in his brother.

"I'm still confused about how he managed to secure you as a partner," Diluc questions, giving Kaeya an unimpressed glance.

Kaeya faux gasps quietly, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Diluc dearest, you wound me. I'll have you know that I am a delight and it was my shining personality that won Y/N," he announces matter-of-factly.

You giggle into your cup as the two of them break into a small argument over Kaeya's character. It was nothing serious-- anyone with eyes could tell neither brother was taking the argument seriously. When their gaze turned to you, you pop an eyebrow up.

"Y/N, do tell Diluc just how lovely I am!" He begs, playing up the theatrics.

You swirl your mug a bit, watching the amber liquid slosh around.

"He's my snowdrop, Diluc. He's quite special to me, and you wouldn't know it but he secretly is a big sweetie and-"

Before you can finish, Kaeya's hand is slapped over your mouth. You and Diluc both look over at the man who is now stumbling over his words, cheeks turning dark. He was not prepared to be gifted a nickname so soon, especially in front of his brother.

"I-I think he gets the idea, Y/N," he coughs into his other hand, slowly letting the one covering your mouth drop.

Diluc flashes him a teasing smile.

"I think I do, snowdrop."

@seirenspinel & @xylerray Per your requests❤️

If you want me to do other characters, you can ask!

Requests are open~!