Hi! I'm Mars (24, she/her, minors DNI) and I write fluffy fics about tickling because I think it's cute • Mostly reblogs nowadays but I might write once in a blue moon. Expect Critical Role, MCU, TMA, The Locked tomb & more • have a great day! ♡ (Minors DNI, you will be blocked)
MARS 🌿 24 🌿 cis, she/her 🌿 biromantic asexual (taken) 🌿 Aquarius 🌿 I write fluffy fanfics about tickling because I love physical affection and people being silly together
This blog is SFW, tickling is NOT sexual for me and the content reflects that.
That does not, however, mean the rest of my blog is suitable for minors. 18+ only, minors DNI
Please don't message me to talk about tickling, I just like reading & writing fics <3
I do not write very often anymore since I have a full time job and a partner now - but all my old fics are still up if you want to read them. I will never take them down.
Currently obsessed w project hail mary so have been writing a lot about that - feel free to send headcanons or requests my way <3
🌿Current WIPs (all project hail mary)
Grace gives reader cheer up tickles (request)
Very loose concept with dumb chemistry jokes, Grace and reader (original)
Grace doing dumb shit and Rocky wrecking him to get revenge (request)
Melting point Part 2 (not sure if it will happen but putting it on here just in case)
summary: because of circumstances outside of your control, you're left overwhelmed and anxious. colt offers a solution in the form of a friendly scuffle.
warnings: no use of y/n, gn reader, switch!reader, switch!colt, established relationship, descriptions of stress/anxiety, light angst, hurt/comfort i guess?, mentions of friend issues but no specifics, reader is described as physically weaker than colt but no descriptions of body types, this is just an excuse to write a tickle fight, light swearing, light kissing
word count: 2k
authors notes: this one is very self-indulgent. can i have a personal funny guy to help me get rid of that annoying skin crawling anxious energy that leaves you restless? and yeah ive fallen into the goslingverse wormhole. title: petals on the moon by wasia project
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You let your phone clatter onto the counter, not caring about being careful with it.
Leaned over on your elbows, you dropped your head down to run your hands through your hair shakily. Your fingers met at the back of your skull. You could feel your body trembling slightly.
The worst part of all of this was that you couldn't do anything. It was outside of your control.
You hated not having control. It always left you shaky, anxious, distressed. Like if you could only take charge then nothing bad would ever happen.
You clenched your fingers tight, pulling at your hair, trying to focus on the dull ache it provided.
Not on your phone chiming with new messages.
You told her this would happen. She had come to you for advice weeks before, and the two of you talked at length about what decision she should make. You told her exactly all the ways it could go wrong but, ultimately, she was in charge of her own life.
Now everything was going bad, and she was begging for help.
The trembling in your body increased slightly. Your chest stuttered, making you gasp sharply.
The front door rattled, and you heard Colt thudding his way through the apartment.
You forced a deep breath, running a hand down your face. You straightened just as Colt got into the kitchen.
"Hey." You said, then cleared your throat to sound less breathless. "How was work?"
Colt stopped dead in his tracks, eyes scanning up and down your form. "What happened?"
You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm fine."
Colt frowned, and stepped closer to you. His hands, calloused but gentle, rubbed up and down your arms.
"You're shaking."
"Yeah." You let out a weak laugh. "I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin."
"What's going on?"
Your phone chimed again in that moment, screen lighting up with your friend's name.
"Ah." Colt said simply, turning back to you. "Things turned out bad?"
You exhaled sharply, stepping away from Colt's embrace to pace around the kitchen.
"It's bad." You said, pacing towards the doorway. "Everything I said could go wrong went wrong, and now I feel like maybe my paranoia is actually good for something."
"You did tell her." Colt said, watching you. "But she makes her own decisions."
"Right." You agreed, turning on your heel and pacing to the opposite end of the kitchen. "And I don't wanna say 'I told you so' because that's rude, but I really want to and that makes me feel bad. And, on a deeper level, I don't feel bad about that."
"You feel bad because…you don't feel bad for her?" Colt frowned a little.
"Exactly." You turned, made your way back to the doorway. Turned on your heel again, but froze in spot. You looked up at Colt. "Am I a bad friend?"
"No!" Colt soothes. "No, of course not."
You nodded, looking aside, flapping your hands by your sides. "I feel like a bad friend."
Colt sighed through his nose softly. "Look. You spent weeks talking with her about it. You stayed up half the night more times than is healthy, just to make sure you covered every angle. She knew exactly what she was getting into. None of this is your fault."
"Feels like my fault." You admitted in a whisper.
"It isn't." He repared, more firm this time. "It's just your brain trying to control the situation."
You buried your face in your hands. "I know."
Colt didn't approach you, letting you process.
"I feel like I'm about to climb the walls." You said, emerging from your hiding place, hands flapping again.
Colt pursed his lips, thinking. Then, seemingly making a decision, he pushed off from the counter he had leaned up against, and came to stand in front of you.
"Alright." He said, stepping into a fighting stance, fists raised up by his face. "Have at it."
"What?" You blinked, hands faltering. It felt like bugs crawled under your skin at the loss of movement, so you took to squeezing your hands in and out into fists.
Colt raised his eyebrows expectantly, spreading his arms wide. "Fight me."
"I'm not going to fight you." You objected.
"Why not? It'll ease the adrenaline." He said, then pushed at your shoulder with just enough force to make you sway backwards a little. "Come on!"
"Colt." You admonished. He pushed again, on your other shoulder. "Seriously?"
You locked eyes and for a long, silent moment, neither of you moved. Colt - never one to back down - and you - avoidant of all things confrontational.
Then he smirked.
He shot out his hand to squeeze at your ribs in one, single movement.
"Hey!" You gasped, flinching. His arm was back at his side before you could even try to catch it.
"What?" The smirk got impossibly wider, and he struck again in the same spot. You flinched again, trying to block his hand.
That was when your phone rang, buzzing against the counter loudly.
"Don't even think about it." Colt said immediately when you looked in the direction of your phone.
"It could be her." You said, taking half a step towards it. Colt side stepped to block your path.
"She'll be fine." He said. "You don't need to fix her life for her."
"What if-"
"You've done enough." He insisted. The phone fell silent.
You couldn't help it - your eyes flickered again to where it lay on the counter.
"Alright." Colt said with finality, and then his hands were on you.
Colt could be precise when he wanted to - stunt work required precision as well as guts - but that was not his intention with you this time. His hands kept moving, kept jumping from your ribs, to your thighs, to your stomach, neck, hips. You had no way of tracking or predicting his movements.
"Come on!" Colt baited over your scattered laughter. "Don't you just wanna let loose?"
You knew you were playing right into his hands. But what other choice did he leave you? You swatted at him, weaving your hands between his reaching ones, and pinched his sides. Giggles burst out of him immediately, and he twisted against your grip.
Colt, however, was a stunt actor. And stronger than you. So when he wrapped his arms around you and hooked his foot over your ankle to tackle you to the ground, you went down like a sack of poatoes.
Flat on your back, Colt's leg thrown over one of yours, you felt a bit like a bug stuck upside down, limbs flailing to no avail.
Colt sneaked his hand under your hoodie, nails scratching just by your hip. Laughing loudly, you aimed your hand at his neck. His chin ducked and shoulder came up, trapping your fingers against his skin. He wheezed a laugh, but apparently wasn't overtaken by your tickling that much. He lowered himself until he was level with your abdomen, hands hiking up your hoodie.
"Don't you dare-" You warned, but Colt was already lowering his mouth to your abdomen, blowing hard against your skin. Your back arched as you burst out laughing.
"Are you just gonna lay there and take it?" Colt teased, lifting off you, but replacing his mouth with both hands against your sides.
Okay, you thought, focus.
You curled you leg up, bracing your foot against Colt's hip. Then you hooked one hand under his arm, the other on his shoulder, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket. You knew Colt was humouring you, but that didn't stop you. Taking a deep breath through your laughter, you shoved at him with all your might, forcing him onto the floor next to you and quickly following after him.
When you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips, he was already grinning.
You slapped his reaching hands away from your thighs. "Stop it!"
"You gonna make me?" Colt sounded thrilled - no, hopeful - and reached again, managing a couple of squeezes above your knee. His eyes twinkled when you yelped and you realised - you have to put a stop to this. With newfound determination, you pulled Colt's unzipped jacket to both sides, exposing the tshirt underneath.
"That's not exactly what I had in mi-whoah!" Colt's tease was cut short as you wedged your fingers under his arms, scribbling your nails at his uppermost ribs. His shoulders scrunched up to his ears, head thrown back in wheezy laughter.
"You're such a little shit, Colt." You said over the noise, though without much heat, and felt his legs kick out behind you.
"Oholny for yohou!" He managed, and you decided he was too coherent.
So you leaned over him and blew a raspberry against his neck.
He squealed. An honest-to-god high pitched squeal, and his hands gripped at your hoodie desperately, tugging, but clearly with no further plan of action.
"That bad?" You asked, leaning back to look at his face. He was still laughing, since you hadn't stopped scribbling your fingers over his ribs. His cheeks turned pink at your words.
You grinned, satisfied with the results.
"Nothing to say?" You couldn't help but tease. Colt made a choked, grumbling sort of sound that made you laugh lightly.
Then his grip tightened and your world tilted.
Colt had you underneath him on the floor again. His weight pinned you down effectively as he sat over your legs. He positioned his hands over you, curled into claws.
When you shot your hands out to try and catch his, he pulled them back. Out of your reach, but still claws.
You felt yourself flush.
He only grinned, dopping his hands abruptly until they almost made contact, then pulling back again as you flinched.
"Nothing to say?" He repeated your words.
You took his distraction as an opportunity, and tried aiming for his hips. Arms flailed amongst vague threats and choked off laughter, as both of you tried to gain the upper hand.
Colt, of course - damn him - came out victorious.
He immobilitsed both your arms by crossing them at the wrists and pressing them into your chest tightly with his hand. His other hand braced on the floor by your head, and he leaned over you to cover your face in light kisses. Your eyes scrunched shut at the fluttering, ticklish sensation, but any attempts at turning your head away were futile as he simply followed your movements.
"Leave me alohone!" You complained, face burning at the affection.
"Mm-m." Colt objected, trailing down over your jaw and to your neck. His stubble made the feeling even worse.
"Noho!"
"Will you promise to leave your phone alone?" Colt asked against your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You scrunched your shoulder, but his head blocked the movement.
"Yes, yes, just let me up!" You agreed quickly.
You felt his lips curl into a grin against your neck, and he nipped you lightly before straightening. He kept your arms in his grip, though.
"Don't even try tickling me." He warned you, eyebrows raised, but still grinning.
"I won't."
Colt released you, getting to his feet. By the time you managed to scramble to yours, he was grabbing your phone off the counter.
"For safekeeping." He exlpained when he saw you looking, slipping your phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Chuckling lightly at your disgruntled expression, he leaned over to place soft kiss on your lips in an attempt to pacify you. "Wanna order waffles and watch that trash show you love?"
"It's not trash." You muttered, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders.
"It's kinda trash, babe." He said, leading you to the living room.
"I want extra strawberries on my waffle." You said, ignoring his comment.
"I will get you triple strawberries." Colt said, with all the seriousness of a man heading into battlefield. "Quadruple strawberries."
You snorted, letting him nudge you gently down onto the sofa.
He was right, you mused to yourself quiety as you watched him tap in the order on his phone. You've done what you can, and freaking out over someone else's bad choices wasn't goint to benefit anybody.
You reached for the TV remote before Colt could catch you staring.
With him around, everything would turn out just fine.
Oh god, where to start You have MAJOR baggage Mommy/daddy issues GALORE, so much trauma to fill a whole season You cry every time you get hugged Oh and you're probably the most on screen abused character, sorry! Tumblr would defend you with their LIFE and I can't even mention the fanfics, the fandom is dividend between wanting to comfort you or to explore your trauma so much it would make a therapist cry"
not every mutual fits neatly into an archetypal medievalism but there are some mutuals that im like yeah addressing you as “my liege” would come strangely naturally
