So Flustered

BG3, Magnus Archives, and others. Primarily fluff and tickles, but also a hint of nsfw spice. Asexual. Adult. DNI if <18

[ticklefanfictions]

Stubborn

AN: This probably sucks, it’s my first ticklefic. Anyways, this is my Squealing Santa gift to Marina and I don’t know if I will post this from my main blog, hope you like it.

Dean was standing at the foot of the motel bed. He was currently packing his belongings while Sam was out getting some food for them. A ruffling sound came from behind him, he wasn’t very startled due to him have to get used to it, but it still scared him from time to time.

“Hey there, Angel.” Dean smiled as Castiel wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging Dan to him.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas said and smiled while nuzzling his nose into the area where Dean’s shoulder met his neck and started pecking the skin. Dean immediately tensed and bit his lip to keep in the laughter that wanted to escape already. He squealed as he felt Cas nip at the side of his neck. The reaction merely encouraged the mischievous angel.

“What was that, Dean?” Cas asked and breathed on the back of Dean’s neck, causing the hunter to snort.

“Nohathing” Dean was being stubborn. As usual. Cas knew his resolve, though it was never very strong, would eventually break.

“Oh really?” Cas quirked an eye brow. Dean screeched and immediately bit his tongue to muffle the reaction as Cas dug his fingers into the hunter’s stomach. Dean bit his lip in an attempt to hold of the abundance of laughter that was seconds from exploding out of his mouth.

“Cas. Stop.” Dean pleaded with the angel as he got a few well-placed pokes into his ribcage.

“Why?” Cas questioned and continued to try and crack the hunter’s resolve and pushed him onto the bed, immediately straddling the hunter.

“Because it feels weiheherd. Just stohahahaaaap!” Dean pleaded, but knew he wasn’t going to get out of this one.

“Aw. How cute, the big mean hunter is ticklish. I think you like it.” Cas claimed with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“No I dohon’t!” Dean protested, flailing like a fish out of water as Cas poked and prodded at his torso.

“I think you doooo,” Cas said in a sing song voice. He dug his thumbs into Dean’s hip bones. “See! Look at that smile.” he exclaimed as Dean shreaked.

“Hey, guys sorry it took so long.” Sam wasn’t paying attention as he entered the room and nearly dropped the food when he heard a yelp from the bed followed by loud chuckles. “Cas, what are you doing?” He questioned upon seeing the angel on top of his brother in the motel bed.

“SAHAHAM HELP MEHEHE!” Dean begged, looking towards Sam and giving him puppy eyes. Same smirked at the sight and turned towards Cas.

“I’m just messing with him a bit.” Cas looked at Sam innocently. “Would you like to help? He won’t admit he likes this.”

“Yes, of course!” Sam sat down on the bed and took Dean’s arms and circled a finger down each of his brother’s biceps.

“Nohohohohoho!” Dean giggled and squirmed away from the touch.

“Come on, Dean. All you have to do is admit that you like it.” Sam scribbled his fingers into Dean’s armpits.

“I dohoHOHON’t like it thoUGHOHohoho!” Dean screamed, desperately pounding his legs against the mattress, calming down more as Sam moved onto his sides.

“You can’t lie to an angel, Dean.” Cas raised an eyebrow and gave a squeeze to each of the hunter’s hips, resulting in louder breathy chuckles.

“Pleheh-PLEHEHEASE STOP!” Dean struggled his hardest as Cas tormented his hips and Sam raked his fingers up and down his ribs. “FIHIHINE! I LIKE IT, JUST PLEASE STOP!”

Cas and Sam ceased their attack after a few more minutes and Dean heaved, sucking in as much air as possible.

“I hate you both.” Dean glared up at the other two.

“You love us.” Sam smiled and squished Dean to him and Cas joined the bundle of love. Dean didn’t know what he would do without his family.

[poesparakeet]

What a wonderful Squealing Santa contribution! The fics are pouring in! This one is for the beautiful thebest-medicine!

[thebest-medicine]

oh my gosh oh my gosh thank you this is awesome i love it!!!

[thebest-medicine]

All Forms of Torture

submitted by anonymous

A.N:  I thought I’d submit a very short, fluffy one shot for anyone who (like myself) had Strong Feelings about the final!  Written as Wincestiel, but can be read as Destiel with platonic Sam.

Dean had been to Hell.  He’d encountered some of the greatest torturers of demonkind, suffered under them, learned from them. 

But lying on his own sofa, Dean concluded with certainty that not a single demon in Hell had anything on his very own puppy-eyed angel and baby brother.

Dean’s eyes watered.  His arms were useless, wrists criss-crossed under him with the invisible ropes of Castiel’s Grace.  It made his soft, quivering belly protrude slightly, exposed and vulnerable with his shirt rolled up to his underarms. 

Worst of all was the very nibble-y, tickle-y mouth that was tormenting his underbelly with kisses, made all the more torturous with the five o'clock shadow Cas was purposefully rubbing on the exposed flesh.  

Dean made a high-pitched sound of distress as Sam, who had Dean’s head in his lap, stuck his long fingers underneath Dean’s underarms.  The angel Grace prevented him from making any noises except for keening, tortured giggles.  

He looked up at Sam desperately, pleading with his eyes.  Sam smiled pitilessly. 

“You know, if you have an issue with this,” his younger brother informed him, pleasantly, “all you’ve gotta do is get up and leave.”

Dean would have screamed if he could.  When did he raise such a smug, ruthless bastard?

This had been going on for thirty minutes.  Dean curled his toes, still trying to rid himself of the phantom sensations from when Cas had sucked on them, tongue tormenting the sensitive flesh in between. 

Worse were the sporadic curls of Grace in all his sensitive areas:  behind his knees, behind his ears, the soft cleft between his thigh and ass;  it was times like these when he remembered Cas had rebuilt him from scratch, and knew his body better than he did. 

Dean could do nothing but lay there and take the affection torture, writhing uselessly the few millimeters he could move as his closest loved ones exploited his most embarrassing weakness.

When the first tear spilled from the corner of his eye, rolling down his flushed cheek, Sam knew it was time for a break.  

He gave a single look to Cas, who stopped immediately, more familiar with the Winchester’s nonverbal cues than he was anyone else’s.  Dean kept giggling for a few moments, ghosts of the sensations still lingering, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Now, Dean,” said Sam patronizingly, once his brother had caught his breath somewhat.  “Now that you’ve had a taste of your own medicine, are you going to keep trying to tickle me and Cas while we’re trying to enjoy a nature documentary?”

Dean shook his head earnestly, knowing full well he was lying through his teeth.  If this was the “punishment,” he’d be misbehaving a lot more often, though he’d go to his grave before he’d admit to enjoying such treatment.

“You sure about that?“  Sam pressed.  He was just playing him, of course;  he knew all of Dean’s micro-expressions, and he could tell when he was being dishonest.

 Dean nodded, just as rigorously. 

"Well, then,” said Sam, with a brisk sigh.  “I guess your punishment is over then…”

Dean slumped, partially in relief, but with just a hint of disappointment. 

“…Right after we get your hips.”

Dean’s eyes went comically wide and his body stiff, before Castiel’s warm, chapped lips even made contact with the soft, sensitive protrusions.  Dean made a high, musical sound of pleasurable agony at the realization his torment wasn’t over.

Castiel and Sam shared a knowing smile;  all three of them knew that they would be doing this again, very, very soon.

[wordstrings]

“Like hell am I gonna– kgghh!”

Dean clips off his sentence with a strangled noise when Cas pinches experimentally at his ribs. A rough chuckle slips out as he slams his elbows down on the invading fingers.

They stare at each other for a few seconds. Castiel isn’t one for dramatic shifts of expression, but the subtle smirk he’s sporting now may as well be wolfish.

Dean points threateningly at him, though is careful to keep his arm tucked protectively to his side. “Tickle fights are a thing, you know,” he warns.

“I’m aware.”

“I’ll find every last weak spot you have.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Then Castiel moves, and damn, has Dean mentioned lately that he loves how fast and decisive Cas can be when he wants to? Except he totally doesn’t love it right now because, in a blink, Cas has him pinned on the bed with his wrists up over his head and one set of fingers wiggling a teasing staccato pattern down his stomach.

He’s laughing immediately. He yanks on his arms and throws his weight, but Cas’ grasp is sure. “No, stop!” he wheezes. “That’s cheating, that’s cheating, let me go!”

Castiel’s smile is incongruously soft when he says, “Never.”

[thebest-medicine]

#5 “No, I’m just- uh- sensitive.” with Dean and Cas?

Prompt 5 - "No, I'm just- uh- sensitive."

A/N: oh man it's a throwback... let's go!!!! to quote @nhasablogg: what in the 2014 is happening here

…

Dean twitched again as Castiel’s hand passed the middle of his back, just between the shoulder blades. Castiel watched him with a twinkle of concern.

He had come in and sat down on the couch at Dean’s invitation earlier, only for Dean to then lounge across the couch and his lap, laying face down on a pillow and popping some reruns on the TV. Cas had taken it upon himself to shower the hunter with a little affection and check to make sure he was uninjured after their last outing. This led to Cas rubbing his back and neck here and there, and some affectionate tracing along his skin (perhaps also a ploy to check for sore muscles or knots) to see if he could help Dean feel a bit better.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothin’.” Dean hummed against the pillow on the arm of the couch. “S’fine.”

Cas continued tracing along the muscles of Dean’s shoulders, pushing in when he sensed a knot and massaging here and there. He ran a few fingers along his spine up to his neck and Dean flinched again.

“Dean.” Cas stressed, stopping his ministrations.

“It’s fine, Cas. I’m… it’s just- uh- sensitive there.”

Castiel leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the human’s expression to better read him. He seemed content, happy even, he wasn’t getting up or moving away. He wasn’t hiding anything… any injury, right? Cas noticed a rosy coloring on the tip of his ear. He smiled gently.

“Sensitive.?” He inquired softly, starting to curl his fingers again along the back of Dean’s neck and over his shoulder, along his back. The thin t-shirt was soft under his fingertips, and it must have been on Dean’s skin as well. Dean squirmed again, digging himself deeper into the couch and Cas’s lap. Cas caught a strangled bit of a laugh almost made its way through the pillow. He smiled a little as he caught on.

“Sensitive… like you are here?” Cas continued, and suddenly his other hand was scratching at Dean’s ribcage.

Dean squawked at the new, more directly ticklish contact. He curled onto his side. “Hehheehe- wait! Nohohohohohooo!” He laughed, his blushing face now free. Cas caught sight of his delightful smile and felt warm.

“Can I get you to laugh like this if I try tickling back here?” Cas said curiously.

Dean protested through his laughs as he squirmed about, still tired, but didn’t do much to actually stop the ticklish attack. Cas drew both hands back and started to make the same spidering motions along the backs of Dean’s ribs and tracing up and down his spine. He scribbled at Dean’s neck, then at the small of his back. Dean laughed all the same, twitching and twisting until he finally squirmed his way onto his back, facing the angel. He caught Castiel’s hands in his and Cas stopped for a moment, taking in his wild eyes and fierce blush in contrast with his freckles.

“Heh- yeesh. You trying to kill me?” Dean laughed, closing his eyes under the scrutiny.

“You have a very sweet laugh.” Castiel said, smiling as Dean squirmed at the compliment too. “And a very ticklish back.” Another squirm.

“Shut up. You’re probably worse.” Dean scoffed.

“Well, maybe you’ll find out one day.”

Dean looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow with a little smirk. “Wanna find out?”

“Not now.” Cas smirked after he spoke, and Dean gave him a bewildered look before fingers fluttered along his stomach and began pinching his sides, and Dean lost his protests to laughter once again.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further SPN drabbles on ao3]

[august-anon]

Pray for Mercy

Tickletober 2022, Day 18: Chase [LATE]

this was actually the first fic i wrote for this year’s tickletober, months ago when i first finished the prompt list, before i ever officially posted it lol. i have not reread or edited this! i simply do not have the time or energy unfortunately lol, but hopefully its alright and not too messy!

—–

Fandom: Supernatural

Ship(s): Destiel

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Dean/Ler!Castiel

Word Count: 2736 words

Summary: Dean should’ve known there were consequences to tickling an angel. Even one with such a cute, innocent smile like Cas.

[ao3 link]

—————

Dean raced down the halls of the bunker, skidding around corners and almost slipping every other step thanks to only being in his socks. The bunker was supposed to be safe, after all. Why would he need to wear his big, heavy boots everywhere when he could finally live in comfort? Well, Dean certainly felt like a fool, now.

Had the bunker always been this complex? It felt like a labyrinth, unrecognizable and unending, trapping him no matter what turn he took. He thought he knew the place inside and now by now, explored all the nooks and crannies during the late nights where he couldn’t sleep knowing what horrors were awaiting him behind his eyelids. Apparently, he thought wrong. Or maybe that was just the scratch of fear slithering down his neck seeping into his mind, muddling things that he knew that he knew.

Keep reading

[chalterdh22]

Day 25: Trap – Tracker

Ler: F   Lee: M/M

Warnings: Contains some swearing

Summary: If you haven’t watched this show yet, but you are a fan of Justin Hartley or Jensen Ackels, watch it!  They play brothers and I can totally see this happening!  Reenie had the two boys stop over and have some food and beers, celebrating a huge breakthrough in a case they had been working on.  Let’s just say, they start thinking they are funny…

Reenie, Colter and Russ had solved a huge case they had all been working on for months.  As a way to celebrate, she invited them over for some pizza a beer, well, more beer then pizza.

She loved the way all three of them could banter and truly felt like they were all brothers and sister.  There was a couch with a coffee table at the same height in front, where she liked to kick up her feet and relax.  So, she did that exactly.

Russ was in the kitchen getting more beer and snacking on another piece of pizza.  She had her feet kicked up on the table, sitting in the middle of her couch, like normal.  Colter came and sat on her right, following suit, kicking up his feet next to hers.

“Damn, Colter.”  Reenie said.  “You have some big feet.”  She pointed out, as his made her 8s look like little kids’ feet.  He laughed and took a sip of beer.

Again, they had been drinking for some time now, so they were all fresh towards one another.

After his sip, he looked at her with his serious face, and said, “You know what they say about men with big feet, don’t you?” 

She slowly turned her gaze towards him, still serious, but with a small hint of a smile forming.  Thinking she knew what he would say, she exuberantly said, “No, Colter, what do they say?” 

He smiled back, taking another sip.  He leaned in and said, “We have big feet.”

She looked at him, no, more like glared at him, for how stupid this sounded.  She had nothing in her hands, so she quickly shot both of her hands at his mid-section and started squeezing as she yelled, “Shut up, you’re such a dork!”

He yelped, not expecting that, and curled up against her attack, not spilling his beer, but taking his free hand and swatting it at hers.  “Wh-what?  Can’t you ta-take a joke?”  He said through his struggling of not to laugh.

So, she dug in further, shaking her head in amusement, now tickling his ribs on his sides.

This made him yell out, “Naa-ahaaa, stttopp it!  Dammit Reeeeeenie!”

Then Russ came walking out of the kitchen and she stopped, as Colter was red-faced.  “Why are you torturing my baby bro?”  He asked, not really caring, but more curious. 

As Colter was catching his breath, she leaned back against the couch.  “Oh, he thought he was being funny when I said he had big feet, and he said men that have big feet have big shoes.  I taught him a lesson is all.”

Russ nodded in agreement, taking a sip from his beer.  “Well, ya know, he’s not wrong, but you know what we really have….?”  He had a full shit eating grim on his face, and she thought, here comes the really stupid comment.

“What Russ, what do they have?”  She said in the same sarcastic tone she used on Colter.

“We have big socks…..”  Both Colter and Russ laughed at this, as she sat in the middle surrounded by middle school boys. 

She shook her head, and grabbed onto Russ’s sides just like Colters’s, and just like Colter, he gasped and tried to swat them away, though he was quicker and set his beer down and grabbed both of her wrists.

“Nah-ah.”  He said shaking his head looking at her.  “We don’t do that.”

She pulled her wrists back and said, “You two are children.” 

“And you are officially trapped!”  Colter leaned in, both brothers staring at her.

Uh-oh, she though.

The end.

[thislittleducky-deactivated2018]

Neck Tickles

Your Ler just gave you the look. You know the look. The look that says, “I am going to eat you for breakfast and you can’t do anything to stop me.” Then … he slowly crawls closer and closer to where you are on the bed, but you can’t go far. If you run, he will catch you. 

So you decide to give into the inevitable and let him grab you around your waist in a big, tight embrace. You squeak because you think that he is going to attack your sides, so you strain your neck to see where his fingers are lying in wait to start tickling you. That was your first mistake. You exposed your neck while his face is close to yours. 

While you are looking to the side, he buries his face into your neck and makes those growling noises that you call “rude”. It tickles. Oh, does it tickle! You can’t move your neck and you can’t move your arms and your legs are trapped, too. The one thing you can do is laugh. 

But he can do so much more than that. He can growl or raspberry or nibble or chuckle or nuzzle and it each one tickles more than the other. With his face in your neck, he is also unable to see your face at all. He can’t see your adorable blush or wrinkled nose. The only thing he can see is your soft pink neck and he can only hear your laugh changing with his changing movement. 

You squirm under him as your laugh turns from spastic giggles to loud snorting laughter then to silent laughter, all the while you try to beg for it to stop. Both of you know that you don’t want that to happen, so he makes sure to keep his face there and even talk into it because your laugh is his favorite music to hear. 

[iloveticklingxx-deactivated2025]

Wtffff 🙈🙈

[ne-rv-e]

The way I would melt 😍 and if it’s mixed in with little whisper teases in your ears too 🙈Please don’t ever stop if you do this to me 🥰

[thetiniestrhino]

Know what makes for a delicious treat? A deathly ticklish neck. Gonna put one hand on your head, the other on your shoulder, and very gently pry your neck open until I can see that tender skin where the side of your neck meets the collarbone. This isn't going to be polite. This isn't going to be pretty. I'm going to get deep in there like a dog eating a bucket of ice cream. Lips, tongue, teeth, beard... Gonna use them all, to the greatest effect I can. Until you struggle against me with all your might and I go halfway deaf from your wild, frantic screams ringing directly in my ear.

And when I finally pull my face out of there, to enjoy the sight of you panting and twitching in a twisted little pile of ticklish defeat... Do you know what I'm going to do then?

I'm going to pry the other side open and have an entire second helping, that's what. 😈

[ne-rv-e]

You won’t have to hold me down, I’m all yours! 😍😇

[shirloithehoi]

I think one of the cutest things about the tickling community is how many tickle subs struggle to say the word “tickle” normally. Like. Some refuse to say it at all. Some use silly euphemisms or get around saying it. Some do say it but you can just feel that micro second of hesitation like they have to force it out manually, like the word gets stuck in their throat.

Tickle subs aren’t “ticklish,” they’re SENSITIVE.

People and things don’t “tickle” tickle subs, they GET them.

Tickle subs aren’t “tickle subs,” they’re LEES! Short for “ticklees!” Just skip the “tickle” part. Same with tickle tops, they’re LERS, short for “ticklers.”

I’ll be honest I don’t get it. I’m a huge tease and denial slut but I don’t have trouble saying the word “edge” or “chastity” or whatever. I don’t have to make up euphemisms to say the word foot or talk about how much having my ears teased paralyzes me on a primal level.

It’s so god damned endearing. It actually makes me insane. THEY CAN’T EVEN SAY THE WORD! HELLO?? THESE POOR BABIES ARE SO FUCKIN NERVOUS ABOUT BEING TICKLED THEY HAVE TROUBLE SAYING THE WORD.

It’s incredible. It’s amazing. It makes me fucking dizzy just thinking about. Oh you poor things I’m going to find you and I’m going to tickle you so badly. I want that word to stay frozen in your gut forever, all jittery and fluttery and tickly. I want u to feel nervous when I smile at you and enunciate nice and easy and clear about how I’m going to t i c k l e you to pieces.

sorry got carried away there at the end. Anyways I just think it’s interesting!

[ne-rv-e]

Exactly this! Nothing will get me to say that dreaded word out loud! And don’t you dare tease me with it! Don’t ask me questions like

“Aw, does that tickle?”

Or

“Ooo, is that spot extra ticklish?”

And my gosh, if you were to throw in nibbles and teases to my ears, I’d be gone! Deceased! A melty puddle of gooey giggles 🫠

Gosh, why are all you lers just so mean???!! 🙈😳

[city-tickles]

These MMA fighters know the best 🪶 holds 😂

Source

[ne-rv-e]

Have you seen the way his fingers are moving? 😩 and the spot he is intent on staying in right at the top the ribs/under the arm? 🫣 The way he is pinning them down like they weigh absolutely nothing and they can’t do nothing? 😳 I would absolutely melt! 🫠🥺 Yes please! 🙈

[lawrencew78]

[ne-rv-e]

This spot!! 🙈🙈 I love it! 😍but you’ll have to hold me a lot tighter than that! 🫠

[wolftickles]

You can feel it through the screen, can't you little lee? Those soft scribbles have got your sensitive soles tingling with excitement.. that deliciously masochistic churn in the pit of your stomach reminds you that you yearn to be gently taken apart over and over again.. 😘👣🪶😈

[wolftickles]

Wolftickles is back from hiatus 🐺

Dunno how active I'll be so please don't take offence if I don't reply immediately, but I've missed you all so much and am dipping a not-at-all-ticklish toe back in the water 👣🪶🥰

[lezkissgifs]

[wolftickles]

Ah Sunday morning.. perfect for driving you wild with lazy teasing and idle traces..

[fluff-a-nutter]

Tickletober Days 10 & 11- Spidering & Hug

Hello my friend. You look like you need a hug.

That’s it, just come here and relax a bit in my arms.

You don’t have to tell me what’s troubling you if you don’t want to. I’m not one to pry.

Oh? What’s this? You’re a bit squirmy, aren’t you?

Why is that, I wonder? Perhaps it’s the itsy bitsy spiders crawling up your ribs?

My fingers? My dear, I’m doing nothing. The spiders are just crawling up and down of their own accord, silly!

Ah, now you’re giggling. How sweet.

Silly thing, I’m barely touching you.

My friend, I know it tickles. That’s the whole point.

There now, isn’t that better than feeling sad?

A smile is a wonderful thing isn’t it?

What’s that? You’d like a normal hug now?

Very well. You’ve earned it.

Sorry for the double Drabble! I was too busy to write yesterday, but I hope you enjoyed it today!

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

Dwindling Creativity

Thomas groaned, putting his head in his hands. He’d been brainstorming and writing and editing and erasing and rewriting and researching and writing again.

“I feel like I’ve used up all the creativity I have,” Thomas grumbled, shoving aside his laptop.

This pause, reluctant as it was, was instigated by Janus. Patton took over from there, leading Thomas to flop on the couch with reruns of the Office to give his mind a chance to rest.

- - -

Roman did not stop working when Thomas did. This was Important to Thomas, and Roman had to get it right.

Thomas’s statement about using up his creativity was very nearly correct. As they had worked, Roman had dwindled away gradually, until now the quill he was holding was nearly as tall as he was. He had to hold it in a two-handed grip, kneeling on the parchment and balancing the unwieldy feather against his shoulder. At least he had a magic quill that didn’t run out of ink, so he didn’t have to keep getting up and down to re-dip it.

He ignored the click as the door to his room opened, but moments later the quill was snatched out of his grasp.

“Hey! Give that back, you- you ruffian!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Ruffian? I would’ve expected a more… creative insult.”

Roman glared at him, more tired and grumpy than truly angry. “Well—! Well…” his mind went blank.

Deceit let him flounder for a retort, twirling the quill in his gloved fingers.

All at once, his inability to come up with a properly applicable insult, a good rhyme, even a solid sentence, slammed into Roman. He crumpled onto the desk. “Just leave me alone, I’m useless.”

Deceit sat down in Roman’s chair. Roman wasn’t looking at him, and was surprised to be lifted by the back of his shirt. He let out a squeak, then decided he was too tired to flail or protest, and merely went limp.

“Useless?” Deceit drawled, his voice dripping with something like sympathy. Knowing him though, it could well be anything, or nothing. “My dear prince, you and I both know that’s far from the truth.”

He draped Roman over his other hand, resting on the table. Roman was laying on his stomach, across Deceit’s palm, his arms flopped over his pointer finger.

“I am useless.” Roman asserted. “I can’t even make a song. I’m supposed to be great at songs!”

Deceit stroked the feather over Roman’s back, the smooth, gentle pressure a pleasant sensation. “Or perhaps, you’re holding yourself to too high a standard considering the circumstances.”

Roman’s muscles loosened further as the feather continued stroking over his shirt. “It’s for Thomas’s mother’s birthday, if I can’t make something perfect for this, when else could it matter?”

“I’m sure you will make something perfect,” Deceit replied. “But it may take more time. Time which we have, the birthday is in three weeks.”

Roman dropped his head onto Deceit’s glove. It was cool, rather than warm as he might have expected a hand to be. The feather traced patterns over his shirt, almost like a back rub, melting away his protests.

“You need rest now. Distraction, to get your mind off of the song and give you time to return to your full strength.”

As Deceit said the word Distraction, the edge of the feather brushed over a small strip on skin on Roman’s side, where his shirt had ridden up. Tingles spread from that spot, making him shiver. It felt nice, nearly tickly.

Roman shifted to dispel the tingles, inconspicuously doing so in a way that made his shirt ride up slightly higher.

For a few moments, Deceit must not have noticed, still stroking the feather over his shirt, but then the tip of the feather was drawn across his lower back, crossing from his shirt to his bare skin. Roman muffled a small giggle, enjoying as tingly sensations ran over him again.

Deceit was saying something else, but Roman was becoming lost in the moment, relishing the soft, gentle strokes and the occasional sparks of tickles.

At some point, he had relaxed so thoroughly as to forget he was hiding his giggles, and let one fully slip out.

“Oh, so I have a ticklish little prince?” Deceit said fondly, smiling down at him with a glint in his eyes.

Roman’s first impulse was to protest, especially as Deceit was sure to grow condescendingly teasing, but his enjoyment of his situation battled that impulse, leaving him speechless and blushing.

His internal battle was interrupted by the feather slipping up the back of his shirt, wiggling over his whole back. Roman fell into giggles, kicking his feet gently. The stiff quill feather wasn’t the most effective tool for causing tickles at his current size, but his embarrassment had made him more sensitive than usual.

“Awwww,” Deceit cooed. “Enjoying yourself?”

Roman didn’t respond other than to blush a bit pinker, though he made no move to block the feather.

Deceit twirled the feather. The strange sensation of the spinning feather under his shirt startled a laugh out of Roman.

“It seems I’ve found quite a good distraction, haven’t I?” Deceit said smugly. “Take all your thoughts away and leave only giggles~”

Roman rolled over, trapping the feather underneath his back as he giggled. Deceit easily pulled it free and teased it over Roman’s front. Here his shirt was better covering him, but the feather coming at him, fluttering at his sides or his stomach or neck, and constantly changing spots had him caught in giggles. He batted at the feather playfully when it came within reach of his hands. Indeed, all his previous difficult thoughts had fled.

“A happy little darling,” Deceit murmured, his voice overwhelmingly fond.

Roman was sure his face was still pink, but he was losing the embarrassment, caught up in the fun and the non-judgemental affection. He shucked his shirt off, clicking his fingers to change the quill in Deceit’s hand to a longer feather with droopy, dangly vanes.

Deceit shook the feather over Roman, the little tips flickering over his skin. Roman curled up into a giggly ball, rolling back and forth in Deceit’s hand. So many little tickly points all over him. It was like being out in a summer rain, if every drop left tingles in its wake.

Roman soaked in the attention, the sensations, the love. His body filled with warmth and joy, releasing the excess with every laugh. His giggles were infectious, and Deceit chuckled at the adorable sight in his hand.

When Roman got breathless, he grabbed at the trailing ends of the feather to stop them. Deceit obligingly switched tactics to long slow strokes of the feather up and down over Roman. It was hardly tickly at all, returning to a relaxing massage-like experience, but Roman couldn’t seem to fully stop the remaining giggles.

Slowly, gradually, he melted into Deceit’s palm. After such a height of joy, tiredness draped over him like a blanket. His eyes slipped closed, and the giggles came further and further apart.

Roman didn’t notice the ever so gradual shift of the feather into a miniature fringed blanket. He barely noticed when it stopped moving and instead tucked around him. And by the time Deceit gently transferred him into his bed he was sound asleep.

[datsomegaystuff]

Okay, so, the feeling of relaxing on a couch or a bed, and your shirt rises up. Not a lot, just a smidge from stretching. A ler sees it, and slowly starts to tickle that soft little strip of skin till your squirming self shifts it up more, making it easy for them to work both their hands under your shirt and skitter their fingers across your whole torso. Fingers tracing every little bump and curve of skin. The sound of their soft laughter mixing with yours as they work you over, the smile and warmth shared by you both, ending with a solid strong hug that makes your head spin as your breathing starts to even out. Your chest tho heaving slightly for air feels light in the moment as you come down.

That sounds nice or whatever, don't mind me.