I'm an adult. I write mostly tickle fluff, and the occasional angst. Decided to make a side blog to post my fics when I do write them since my main is non-tickle related.
Feel free to drop an ask and say hi :D I don't bite XD
Posted Fics
Undertale
Brush the Stubbornness Away - After falling into some paint, Sans is too lazy to get up and clean himself up. Papyrus puts it upon himself to help Sans change his mind.
Eight Plus Two makes Ten - While studying together, Sans finds out that monster and human skeletal structures are different. Frisk wants to comfirm that discovery for herself.
Loki x Reader
(coming soon?)
The Bright Sessions
(coming soon)
Sanders Sides
The One and Only - Logan believes he's immune to tickling. However, a small accidental brush from Patton says otherwise.
Summary: When Morgan realizes their latest case involves a man he saw at a tickle club a few days prior, he is quickly thrown into his worst nightmare (which might be a blessing in disguise). Ler!Morgan
Warnings: tickle kinks, kink club, murder
Words: 5.9k
[Read it on ao3]
It took Morgan several years to get properly back into it. At first it was about adjusting to being in the BAU, then the problem with time. Then it was just about daring. Kink scenes weren’t new to him, but seeing as they spent a big chunk of time profiling sexual sadists, he’d started feeling somewhat weird about his own proclivities. He feared they could smell it on him. This strangeness he couldn’t help.
He never would’ve returned had he not spent most of his life up until that point accepting it and, once he’d done so, exploring it. He didn’t have to dig very deep to realize he missed it, and so, on a particularly dreary Saturday night when his bones were no longer exhausted after their latest case, he went back.
Tea Quells - a funny name when you thought of it - didn’t serve tea, but they had great non-alcoholic options. Morgan felt slightly too tense to enjoy the thought of drinking, so he ordered a soda. Which was one of the less great non-alcoholic options but he wasn’t in the mood for a substitute. Felt he needed the sugar rush to make it through tonight.
He leaned against the bar and pondered that notion. He’d once been comfortable enough there that he didn’t need anything in particular. Just the right mood and some time. The hope he wouldn’t get called in for a case in the middle of it all, like that one Denver case. As he’d sat on the jet, nose all but stuck in the case file, he’d wondered if they could tell where he’d been. He’d been agitated those days, teetering the line of returning and never fully daring. He’d not been doing anything that night. Had only decided a drink at Tea Quells couldn’t hurt. He’d been two down when Hotch had called, and he’d realized with a sinking heart he wouldn’t have been able to drive.
“I need someone to pick me up,” he’d said, fighting off an all familiar panic. Feeling like a loser for being so ashamed.
“Where are you?”
And Morgan had run out, afraid Hotch would somehow locate him by thought alone. “Downtown. Not sure. I can take a cab.”
“I’m sure someone’s going your way. I’ll call you back.”
In the end, it had been Reid who’d picked him up. Reid, who always rode the metro unless they needed them to come in late and quickly. Reid, who wasn’t rubbing sleep out of his eyes but still looked like he was weeks behind on rest.
Morgan knew that incident was what made it all the more difficult to return. Why he opted for a soda rather than a beer. He could pretend he’d forgotten it, only that was nowhere near the truth. He couldn’t get Reid’s eyes out of his mind, the eyes he rested on him as he slammed the car door with barely a word. The way he hadn’t asked him what was wrong, probably assuming Morgan had been in the middle of something sexual, and how he’d wanted so badly to correct him but hadn’t wanted to have to explain.
That last part had caught him off guard, which hadn’t improved his mood whatsoever.
He ran a hand over his head now, already slightly too hot beneath the lights. The music was loud enough that you couldn’t hear the laughter, though he could see it all around him. People bending over as fingers prodded at their most sensitive spots. People leaning against each other rather than fighting it off. That part had always interested him the most, how people would go against bare human instinct for a moment of pleasure. He’d always been the one to tickle others, and so he’d never felt what they did, which made him enjoy it all the more. Watching them, trying to profile them, in the least serious sense of the word of course. But he couldn’t help it. He enjoyed trying to guess their reactions before he even touched them. Who would giggle, who would fight. It was thrilling, especially when the result was so different to how they acted otherwise.
He took another sip. While he’d been out of the scene, he’d occasionally engaged in tickle fights. Normal people did that. Normal people didn’t overthink things like that. Only Morgan was never able to fully relax. Was always wondering if he’d crossed a line. And so he’d tried to not think about it, which also meant he rarely tickled anyone at this point.
No one noticed. Why would they? It wasn’t as if that was a regular part of the days of BAU agents.
It should be, he thought as the song changed. It might make them feel a little human.
“Hey you.” He turned toward Mary, who he used to tickle a lot back in the day. She was fun. Great reactions. Into bondage. Never made it weird afterward. That was one of Morgan’s boundaries. A session was never more than a session. If either of them wanted it to turn into something more they had to discuss it beforehand. But as a general rule he never slept with his lees, even if the session could occasionally turn sexual, with prediscussed consent. He also never dated his lees, unless he’d been dating them before they became his lees. That had never happened, because Morgan didn’t really date anyone for long enough to share this.
“Hey.” He grinned as he accepted her hug. “Long time no see.”
“And whose fault is that, hmm?”
He laughed. He’d forgotten she was sassy. He could never tickle that out of her, which always made their sessions extra fun. “Sorry. Life got in the way.”
“Anything serious?” Concern flickered across her face, but he waved her off.
“No, no, just haven’t really had the time.”
“Well, let me fill you in then.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the all familiar room, which had looked pretty much the same since Morgan had come here the first time. “Ashley and Lara got together after their hundredth session or something.”
Morgan laughed. Leave it to Mary to share all the gossip. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“In that vein, Greg and Amanda broke up.”
“No.”
“But here’s the thing. They still do sessions together!” She shook her head as Morgan laughed at her incredulousness. “They claim no one tickles them like they tickle each other, but hello toxic codependency.”
“What about you then?” he asked as they entered the “cave” as the locals called it, with its neon red lights to indicate raunchier behavior.
“What about me?”
“Do you still switch?”
“I’m mostly a ler now, actually.”
“Is that so?” His teasing tone came mostly out of habit, and she slapped him on the arm also out of habit.
“Shut up. I’ve come to really enjoy it.”
“Well, that’s good. I’d been hoping to do my comeback debut with you, but I guess not.”
She put her hand on her chest. “I’m honored, but you have plenty of old lees and also lots of new ones here. Do you still mostly do both?”
Morgan nodded. He mostly tickled women, but would occasionally tickle men, which he also refused to think too hard about. Laughter was laughter, and he enjoyed a good hysteric laugh. Men were fun to pull apart, seeing as they usually had a lot more pride and spent way too long trying to keep their composure. He took another sip of his soda and scanned the room, realizing that maybe he needed that. Needed to know he could still turn a man into a pleading, giggling mess, after all this time. Needed to know not all men killed and raped and hurt. Some of them laughed and were listened to when they begged for mercy.
“That one-” Mary pointed very un-discreetly toward a man Morgan vaguely recognized. “-has been experimenting with being a lee recently. That’s fun, right?”
“It is.” He looked at him, took in the masculinity. The muscles. Morgan bet he could make him giggle, but something was off. It wasn’t that he couldn’t imagine him throwing his head back with laughter, or that he would let Morgan overpower him at all (maybe after a struggle, maybe immediately). Hell, he’d never been one to care for people’s looks when it came to this, but the muscles suddenly bothered him. Insecure, some might call him, but it wasn’t that. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Not interested?” Mary had a way of always seeing through him. That was why he felt so comfortable playing around with her. Full transparency, she always told him and let him pull her apart until she was satisfied.
Damn, he’d missed her.
“No.” He shook his head and kept scanning the room, trying to pinpoint his mood. “I’m not even sure I wanna do a session tonight, but- oh.”
Mary turned toward the room. “Oh? Oh who?”
“Oh no one.”
“Derek.” She poked him in the ribs only because she knew she was allowed to, but it caught him off guard and he jerked away with a laugh that surprised him. Loud. Carefree. “Tell me this instant.”
“Okay, okay, Jesus, stop.” He grabbed her wrists, squeezed them once. “Fuck, you’re a good ler.”
“Oh, I know. Now spill.”
“It’s just- that guy. Over by the bar.”
“That one? He’s cute. I think he’s new, I don’t recognize him.”
“So you can’t tell me anything about him.”
She grimaced. “Unfortunately. But hey, if you like ‘em scrawnier-”
Morgan suddenly realized he did. Realized he longed for boyish timidness and the huge amount of trust you had to display to let someone much bigger than you pin you down like that. And maybe, if he hadn’t been so panicked at the idea that maybe he was just like them, just like the bad men they chased who enjoyed the idea of overpowering others much weaker than them, he might’ve realized who he actually couldn’t stop thinking about was Reid.
“I think I’m gonna leave,” he said, suddenly feeling as if he couldn’t breathe. Whatever Mary saw on his face, she didn’t ask any questions. Simply led him out of Tea Quells and hugged him for a moment too long before they parted.
*
Morgan felt hungover, which was crazy considering it had been two days since he’d been to the club and also hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol anyway. Maybe it was a blessing that they walked into Quantico to find a new case waiting for them, though they swiftly realized it was a local case that wouldn’t require them to fly anywhere. Maybe that was a blessing, too.
“A young man was found just this morning,” Hotch said, sliding the files across the table. “Tied up in his own bedroom with his throat slashed. No sign of forced entry. His roommate found him after coming back from visiting home during the weekend to their door being unlocked.”
“Holy shit,” Prentiss cried as she opened the file. “His face-”
“Entirely slashed too, yes. We were only able to identify him from a birthmark on his arm, and the fact that it was his address.”
“Is this a one off thing?” Morgan asked, trying not to look too closely at the picture in front of him. He would do plenty of that later.
“So far no crime similar to this has been called in, but this is an unusual and cruel killing, so they decided to get us on the case immediately. It helps that it’s local. He was found downtown.” Hotch grabbed the remote. “21-year-old student Ted Jones was studying to become a nurse. Roommate described him as quiet and hardworking. Said she kept urging him to go out and have fun once in a while, too.”
“So do we think he listened?” Morgan looked up and nearly bit his tongue off.
On the screen before him, the man he’d seen at Tea Quells only two days earlier. The man who had been leaning against the bar while speaking with the bartender. A quiet timidness to him, though he’d been speaking with excitement. Morgan had been able to pinpoint his type immediately. Young. Inexperienced. Finally taking a step toward a more authentic life.
He felt sick. He felt sick.
“Morgan, are you okay?”
It was Reid. Fuck, it was Reid. Reid who looked so much like him, too. The glasses, he had thought, but it hadn’t only been the glasses. It was the sharpness of their jaws and the leanness of their build. Most of all he had reminded him of Reid way back when, a young 23-year-old who had just started at the FBI of all places. Who was certain of his capabilities but not of much else.
He blinked at him. How many times had he not told him that he needed to let loose? How many times had he almost gotten Reid killed because of it?
“I’ve seen him,” he said, not voluntarily, but he couldn't lie, not about this. “I saw him on Saturday.”
The room turned toward him. “Where did you see him?” Hotch asked, already grabbing for a pen.
“At a club. It’s, uh, a kink club. Don’t ask. Don’t-” He ran a hand over his face. “Just don’t ask. It’s called Tea Quells. I saw him for only a second. Thought he kind of looked like Reid, that’s why I remember him.”
“Tea- what was that? Tea Quells?”
“Yes. It’s down by the port.” If Reid remembered having picked him up from that area, Morgan didn’t know. Refused to think too hard about it right now.
“Did he look like he belonged?”
“He looked- giddy.” Morgan shut his eyes. “Like it was his first time there and he was excited. God, that’s messed up.” He opened his eyes again. Looked straight at Hotch. “I left soon after, so I don’t know if he went home with anyone from there.”
“Well, if it’s a kink club,” Rossi started, but Morgan shook his head.
“It’s the type of club where… you don’t have to go home in order to participate. They have, well, resources. But if there was no sign of forced entry.”
“It means anything could’ve happened between you seeing him and him ending up dead.” Hotch closed the file. “We need to go visit this club. And talk to his roommate again. Morgan, Reid, Prentiss, you take the club. Me and Dave will go to the crime scene. JJ, you talk to the press. Apparently word has spread rather quickly.”
She shook her head. “People always get ecstatic whenever something happens locally to the bureau. I’m on it.”
*
“So.” Prentiss dragged out the word as they settled in the car. “Have you been to this club before?”
Morgan huffed. “I have the right to a lawyer.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not a strange thing to wonder.”
“I guess not.”
“But you’re not gonna answer?”
“But I’m not gonna answer.”
She nodded in the passenger seat as Morgan started the car. “Noted. Respected, even.
“I’m surprised.”
“So am I, actually. I figured this is uncomfortable enough as it is.”
“Well, that’s kind of you.”
They spoke so casually, but he bet Prentiss could tell his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was grateful for her discretion. Grateful that Reid, who was sitting in the backseat, didn’t say anything at all.
“So this club,” she continued. “Is it based around a specific type of kink, or is it a standard, like, BDSM-club or something?”
“It’s a specific type of kink. Which ties into BDSM in some ways.” He took a turn. Kept his eyes on the road.
“Interesting.”
“Is it a tickle club?” Reid suddenly asked from the back and Morgan nearly crashed the car.
“Uh.”
Prentiss looked back at him. “Wait, is it?”
“From the name to the way Morgan vaguely describes it, my guess is yes.”
“Wait, Tea Quells-”
“Tickles.”
She laughed. “Oh my god, that’s amazing.”
“I think this is the worst day of my life.”
Prentiss patted his arm. “Hey, no judgment from me. To each their own and all that.”
“I wish I had been murdered instead.”
“Woah, too far.”
“Sorry.” Morgan exhaled. “Yeah, too far.”
They drove in silence the rest of the way, though Morgan couldn’t determine whether that was better or worse.
“I need to tell you something,” he said as they stepped out. “I mean, since you kind of already know now. They do know me here. Or well, many of them do. I haven’t been here in a minute, but since it’s the only club of its kind here-” He shrugged. “Not many more places to go, so it tends to be the same crowd. Anyway, the thing is. No one knows I’m a cop and I kind of would prefer to keep it that way. I just didn’t know how to tell Hotch that.”
Prentiss was nodding. “We’ll use that to our advantage. You go in as a concerned customer and we go in as the BAU. We’ll get different perspectives that way.”
“I could kiss you, Emily Prentiss.”
“I would prefer you didn’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Morgan laughed, suddenly feeling slightly hysterical. “Okay. All right. Should I go in first?”
“Whatever you think is less suspicious.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in like five minutes. But don’t talk to me in there.”
Prentiss saluted. “Got it, boss.”
He caught Reid smiling, ever so slightly, and that made him feel lighter. Which was messed up considering the circumstances.
Tea Quells in the daytime, for it was open during the day too but was mostly a regular bar, was jarring. People were spread out throughout the premises, nursing a drink or watching the TV screens or both. Some were playing pool - were those pool tables always there? - and most alarming of all, no one was laughing.
Morgan realized in slight horror that he didn’t recognize a single face. Not even the bartender’s.
“Hey, uh,” he started, frowning at the disinterest he was displaying as he met Morgan’s gaze.
“What can I get for you?”
“Nothing. I mean. I came because I heard about Ted.”
The bartender blinked. “Who.”
Jesus Christ. He didn’t know. Did anyone know?
“Nevermind,” he said and backed away, wondering, suddenly, if the killer was in there, picking his next prey, or laying low, or both.
He had to call Mary, he suddenly realized. Holy shit, was Mary okay? What if the next one would be one of his own? His lees. His people. But he didn't have Mary’s number. He was too paranoid to get anyone’s number.
He met Prentiss and Reid at the door. “I don’t recognize anyone and no one knows about Ted. We’d have better luck coming back tonight to the regular crowd.”
“Would they be here on a Monday?”
Fuck, he hadn’t thought about that. “Well, we can try, right?”
And so they did. Morgan with his clubbing clothes, riding toward the tickle club with his coworkers. What was his life, truly. And why was something that was once his nightmare something he was handling rather well, all things considered? He had only had like three panic attacks about it.
They didn’t talk about it, of course. He probably would’ve died if they did. And he was too good of a profiler for them to kill him off like that.
“I’ll go in first,” Prentiss said and unbuckled her seatbelt. “I think I’d like to get an independent feel of the place. Give me like ten minutes.”
Morgan leaned back in his seat and watched her enter Tea Quells. “You wanna come sit up here while we wait, pretty boy?”
Reid’s presence beside him was different to him simply being in the car. Morgan could feel him almost everywhere. Could feel the heat of his skin and the way he was looking at him even though Morgan refused to return the gaze. He was embarrassed, he suddenly realized, because guys who looked like Reid had caught his attention before, though he had never acted on the instinct to go up to them and ask to tickle them. Because none of them were Reid.
That thought alone made him feel like a fucking creep.
“I’m sure you have questions,” he said, knowing Reid would never ask.
“I do,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure whether you would appreciate my asking though.”
“I’m sure I can handle one or two.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Morgan shrugged. “I mean, it’s just the two of us anyway, so.”
Reid didn’t say anything immediately, which prompted Morgan to look at him. He’d pulled his gaze toward the club, so obviously choosing his words. “Do you go here because of what it offers?”
“Do I participate, you mean?”
“In more direct terms, yes.”
“I, uh, do, yes. Though I was honest about not having been here in a while.”
“What a welcome.”
“Tell me about it.”
He could sense Reid wasn’t finished, and so he waited him out, pretending all the while as if his face wasn’t on fire.
“Do you do the tickling?” he finally asked. Morgan appreciated the lack of tact this time.
“I do. I don’t really do the receiving. Or well, I never have. I like being in control.” He turned toward him, suddenly desperate for him to understand. “Of myself, I mean. Not because I crave control of others, really, but there’s trust to this, right? People trust I will respect their boundaries and be a safe person for them to let go around.”
Reid was nodding. “I never suspected otherwise, Morgan.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m this freak. Like our killer, or our other unsubs.”
“I would never think that.” Reid was frowning. “I- I know you see me as this inexperienced nerd or whatever, but I’m aware of kink scenes and I think they tend to be the most respectful places for sexual activities. And I don’t judge you for being involved with one. Sure, it surprised me that it’s this, but it’s not like I have thought about it, so any one would probably surprise me. In fact, now that I think about it I think it makes sense.”
“You do?”
“You’re caring and playful and like to push people’s buttons, but only if they respond well to it. This seems right up your alley.”
Morgan exhaled. “Okay.”
“Has this been bothering you a lot?”
“Yes.” No point in lying now. “I haven’t come back in a while because I struggle with it. In relation to this job, mostly, because I accepted my inclination years ago. But this job makes me feel predatory, you know?”
Reid shook his head. “I hate that you feel that.”
“But you understand why I do?”
“I do. I just want you to know it’s not true, but-”
“But?”
“I’m sure many of us have felt that way.”
“Have you?”
Reid hummed. Had Morgan not been so close, the car not so quiet, he might’ve missed it.
He leaned back. “This job sure messed us up, huh. Too bad we’re so good at it.” He opened the car door, the coward’s way out. “Let’s go. I think ten minutes are up.”
*
The way it played out was simple. Someone had seen Ted leave with a man around his own size at midnight, and neither of them ever returned. The other man was called Jacob, and Jacob was a regular switch who wasn’t too selective about who he did sessions with and wasn’t shy about inviting people home too. Upon further digging, it turned out that Ted and Jacob were actually friends, and Jacob had convinced Ted to come and check out the scene. Apparently Ted wasn’t even into this whole thing, as far as Jacob was aware, but he’d been curious about it. Curious enough that he’d arrived when Jacob was still sessioning with someone, and so he’d gotten himself a drink when Morgan had caught sight of him. He’d decided he’d seen enough by the time Jacob was done, and so they’d left. And at some point during their walk to and from the subway, Stanley Larson had started following them.
Jacob’s body was found Tuesday morning. They caught Stanley by Thursday.
“So he had nothing to do with the club,” Prentiss said as she closed the case file. “Just happened to stumble upon them that very same night. What are the odds of that?”
“Well, statistically speaking-”
“That was a hypothetical question, Reid.”
Reid closed his mouth.
Morgan was kind of mad that the club just happened to be the last place Ted and Jacob were seen at and had absolutely nothing else to do with their deaths. Then he felt like a fucking asshole for thinking that when two people were dead.
He ran a hand over his head where he was sitting hunched over the file. He had no reason to keep looking at it, really, only he felt he hadn’t really been able to meet anyone’s eye that day.
Thank god it was Friday.
After he had spent approximately twenty minutes just staring at the file, he felt a figure looming over him. “Hi.”
“Pretty boy, hey.” He straightened. Reid was fiddling with the straps of his satchel, which was how Morgan realized it was time to head home. “You’re leaving?”
“You should too.”
“I will.” He closed the case file and stood. “Right now, actually.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“Could I catch a ride with you?”
“No subway today?”
Reid pulled a face. “I’m not really feeling it.”
“That’s fair. Yeah, of course I’ll drive you, come on.”
He knew what Reid was doing, but neither of them said a thing. Not during the elevator ride. Not during the walk to the garage. And certainly not during the drive to Reid’s apartment, which wasn’t too far away from Morgan’s anyway. They only spoke once he’d parked and Reid asked if he wanted to come inside.
They didn’t usually do this, though they had before. Teetering the line of something they never fully acknowledged. They had been doing that for years.
“Do you want something to drink?”
Morgan settled on his couch. “You got any sodas?”
Reid handed him a can. “Your favorite.”
“You stock up on these in case I come over?” He meant it as a joke, but the way Reid flushed was very interesting. “Wait, really?” He felt a grin tug at his lips. He’d spent the past few days in a constant state of shame, so it felt good to be the one to finally do the teasing again. “That’s sweet.”
Reid sat down beside him. “I’m just a considerate host.”
“Right, right.”
Reid crossed his legs where he sat. In another life Morgan would’ve paired his teasing up with a squeeze to his knee, but felt too self conscious about it now.
He cleared his throat. “I’m assuming you didn’t invite me over because you wanted my company.”
“Well, not purely.”
“Go on, then.” He ran a finger over the edge of his can. “Ask.”
“I-” Reid cut himself off. “I’m- curious.”
“About?”
“About trying it out.”
“You- wait, what?”
Reid was blushing, which wasn’t surprising. What was however, was the fact that he wasn’t averting his eyes despite that. Seemed to be entirely serious when he said, “I’d like to see what it’s all about.”
“We’re talking about tickling, right? You are aware that that means you will have to be tickled, right? Unless you want to try it out on me, which, I mean, while it’s not usually my thing I guess I can make an exception-”
“I want you to tickle me.”
“Ah.” Whatthefuck. “But- why?”
Reid shrugged. “Like I said.”
*
Reid did his research, because that was what he always did. The very moment Morgan mentioned the “kink club” he was off, looking it up and looking up what it meant to have a tickle kink and trying to pinpoint where exactly Derek Morgan fit into all of this. He didn’t tell him. Of course he didn’t tell him. Morgan was embarrassed enough as it was by the case, and for him to do research ahead of time was probably crossing a line.
He didn’t know how he would’ve reacted had he not done it. Not that he judged, but initial reactions to surprising revelations couldn’t always be controlled, and the last thing he wanted was to scare Morgan off.
The part that surprised him came later, when they entered the club at night after their conversation in the car. Reid didn’t like clubs. They were always too loud and too crowded, and the flashing lights didn’t help. But something washed over him at Tea Quells. Some sort of sudden understanding which made it all click for him. Morgan in that club. He looked anxious, which Reid didn’t blame him for, but beneath that, seen only in glimpses, was a tranquility he rarely saw in his friend and coworker. He looked like he truly belonged there.
Of course Reid got curious.
*
“I’m curious.”
Morgan shifted in his seat. Reid’s gaze made him feel timid. The whole goddamn situation, the whole goddamn case and the whole goddamn week had made him feel timid, and he never knew what to do with it. But Reid’s sincerity almost touched him. It didn’t seem fake whatsoever.
“Elaborate.”
“Well.” Reid seemed to hesitate. “I have done some- research.”
“Of course you have.”
“So I know the very basics of it.”
“Surprised you don’t know all of it.”
“I can’t read my way into people’s deepest thoughts and desires.” He paused. “Or, well, it depends on how much research there’s been done. This is a quite unexplored topic, believe it or not.”
Morgan breathed out a laugh. “Oh, I believe it. So I guess this is your way of doing boots on the ground research.”
Reid smiled. “Something like that.”
*
Reid had done more research than Morgan probably suspected, but, he now realized, you really couldn’t read your way into an understanding of what it was like actually being in this situation. He approached it as an outsider, he understood that, but the skip of a heartbeat was real, and the giggly nervousness which gripped him was real, and the way Morgan moved closer, so carefully and slowly as to not scare him off, that was so fucking real that Reid didn’t really know what to do with it.
“Just-” Morgan paused, fingers in the air and all. “Please say the safe word if you don’t like it. Please.”
“I promise.”
“I mean it, pretty boy.”
“Yes, Morgan- heh.” Whatever that sound was, a giggle of some sort, came without his consent and he all but slapped a hand over his own mouth at the shock of it. But Morgan finally melting into a playful smile, which he was certain to be normally sporting during his tickly encounters, made him less self conscious about it.
“Already giggling, huh? So I’m assuming your neck’s a sweet spot?” He wiggled his fingers in the air again, which was what he’d been doing to get Reid to initially react. Far enough that he wasn’t touching him at all, but just at the right height that had Reid all nervous.
Reid put a hand over his throat. “I guess.”
“I can’t really tickle you if you’re covering the spot, you know.” He dropped his hand. “Unless you want me to start at a different spot?”
Reid thought about it. The neck was a vulnerable spot. Easy to catch unguarded, but difficult to stay at unless you had your opponent fully restrained in some way. Reid was sure to struggle if targeted there. He was sure to squirm and flail and scrunch. But letting Morgan go there first, even for only a moment, was an act of intimacy. Of trust. So of course he had to let Morgan go there first. Even for only a moment.
“No, it’s okay.” He uncovered the spot, though his hands remained hovering in the air. There was only so much he could do to stifle his natural instincts.
“If you’re sure?”
“If you stall any longer I might freak out from the anticipation.”
And Morgan laughed. Morgan laughed so suddenly and beautifully and Reid was so fully captivated by it that he let his guard down completely, which meant he was entirely unprepared for the tickle attack and wasn’t able to try to rein in any ounce of his reaction.
Apparently he was more ticklish than he remembered. And somehow, despite not having believed it at all, it wasn’t so bad being on the receiving end either. Not when he was the one technically in control. Not when Morgan tickled him purely because he asked him to.
*
Reid was so fucking ticklish that Morgan wondered if he was faking it to humor him. But no, Morgan was a connoisseur in the art of tickling, and while he had encountered many people who for some reason both held back and exaggerated their reactions to the best of their abilities, there was no way Reid could be doing that. No, the way he threw back his head was real. The way he grabbed for Morgan’s hands and panicked when he at first couldn’t only for the eventual grip of them to be weakened and useless was real. And his laugh. Oh, his laugh. Morgan had not heard anything more real in his life. Choppy and giddy and slightly high pitched, as if he wasn’t sure how to do it. Had probably not laughed like this in years. Morgan had certainly never heard him laugh like this before.
“Okay, okay, I’ll have mercy on you,” he said, because he was afraid that this would be too much and Reid would want to stop, and Morgan wasn’t ready for it to be over. He switched from his neck to his ribs, poking and prodding and finding it less effective than a simple swipe of the finger over his neck, and so he changed tactics. Grabbing one of Reid’s wrists, because both would be overkill, he held it just tightly enough to grant himself ten uninterrupted seconds of gentle curls of his fingers at the spot where his ribcage met his side. Let’s just say it worked much better.
“See, I like this,” he said, trying to be heard over Reid’s laughter. “because you trust me enough to do this. And because you’re having fun enough that you’re not asking me to stop. It’s different for someone who enjoys being on the receiving end. They want me to be doing this.”
Reid managed to grab his wrist when he switched to clawing at his belly. “But why are you enjoying this?”
Morgan freed his hand and gave his knee a squeeze. “Because I’m the one who makes this fun for you.”
*
Reid understood it now. Understood that you could never fully understand unless you were in the person’s shoes, but he understood enough now, as he tried to keep himself from fighting Morgan off too much. Understood because it tickled like crazy and yet he didn’t want it to stop, not yet.
“You do know I didn’t just do this for research, right?” Reid said quietly once it was over, once Morgan had found that spot on his thigh which had him finally cave and ask for mercy.
“I know, Reid.”
He nodded. “Good. Just checking.”
They didn’t say more about it. They both knew why he’d done it. They both knew why Morgan had accepted. Later. They would talk about it later, when they both felt brave again.
AN: Surprise @fictitious-fluff , I’m getting a bit of deja vu here!! Apologies, I had to sub in since your original Squealing Santa had to drop out, so I’m sorry this is later than normal! The prompts you left behind were super cute and I hope you enjoy this fic!!
Characters: Lee! Hunter, Ler! Willow.
Summary: After hallucinating in the Noceda family bathroom, Hunter ends up in a bit of a panicking tiff. Luckily, Willow is there to help him.
He was there. Hunter had seen him, saw them actually, two people. Awoken by some branches scraping at the walls of the Noceda residence, Hunter was already on edge as he creaked his way upstairs to investigate the low, scratching noise. Every step he took felt like he was about to trod on a rattlesnake, the house felt like one big bear trap like this, alone and isolated in the cover of night. It reminded him of how he used to sneak out of the castle with Flapjack; he found it difficult to get out of the mindset that one wrong step, incorrect turn or loud noise would result in the loss of his best friend. Hunter took in a deep breath as he scoured through the house, occasionally lingering in the doorway of his friend’s bedrooms just to make sure they were okay. He considered checking on Miss Camila too, but something about bothering her rubbed him the wrong way, nerves clamming up as he reached towards her door handle.
He shook his head. He shouldn’t bother her. Though, his nerves were still jittery, like there was some monster under her skin waiting to burst out at any second. Water. He needed some water. Flicking on the light to the bathroom, Hunter immediately made his way over the sink, spinning the faucet until a geyser of cool water began spilling out. He wetted his hands before leaning down and splashing them against his face. Then, Hunter barely opened his eyes and looked in the mirror, as if to check that he was was still here. And that’s when he saw him. Them, in fact, two of them.
Belos came first, not the horrific monster that resembled something of a Lovecraft book, but the kind, gentle uncle he had once knew. The one with an injured streak of green magic scarring his face, and silver hair that had been aged with wisdom and a necessity to survive. Hunter barely recalled Belos talking about his injury, the one supposedly caused by wild magic, though Hunter had no way of deciphering truth and deceit from his mouth anymore.
“We are kin, Hunter, our scars are a permanent reminder of our failures. They’ll remind us to keep pushing forward, but also that we will always be united.”
What was once a comforting speech about how Hunter could always rely on his uncle now just served to remind him that his blood was running through his veins. If that even was how Grimwalkers worked, who knew what other vile things Belos had to do to make his body. The memory flashed through his mind like an icicle had crashed through his spine, just the thought of how willingly and stupidly he helped his uncle in the past was enough to send him stumbling away from Belos’ cold, sadistic gaze. His hand struck upwards to his face as his fingers involuntarily traced the scar on his chin, the fingerprint of Belos.
The next face was his own, the mask that had been sewn onto him since birth. A man who he never knew existed until just a month or so ago, yet had dictated his entire life. Caleb. He seemed tired, exhausted and if Hunter squinted, he could’ve sworn that Caleb looked disappointed in him. How could he not be? The last of the Grimwalkers, all of those people, all of those murdered and it all lead up to just him. Sure, Belos was dead but it wasn’t like Hunter believed that, that monster would find a way to cling to life for even a few more seconds no matter the depraved cost. He hadn’t won or defeated Belos, he was trapped in another world, although the human world somehow felt comfortable. Maybe he just didn’t have anything for him back in the Isles, except for Darius, or maybe it was the Caleb in him talking, happy to finally be back home.
Hunter yelped pathetically, barely finding his voice as he tucked his head to the side, staring away from the mirror. Clutching the sides of his hair while his torso shook and jittered slightly, Hunter took in deep breaths as well as he could, trying to copy it how Luz taught him. They were far from perfect but they calmed him down just enough to barely able to just barely open one of his eyes and look back in the mirror.
It was just him, a few feet away from the mirror from jumping back, hunched over with his hands on the sides of his head. Hunter grimaced, really missing that masked confidence right about now. He blinked a few times, making sure that it was really him and not Caleb. Satisfied that he was no longer seeing things, Hunter slowly rose back to his normal stature and got ready to le-
“Hunter?” A soft voice called from the doorway, though it felt like a shock to his heart. Hunter jumped back once more, startled like a deer, and turned to face where the voice had came from. There stood Willow, who was just rubbing her eyes groggily but had flinched back at Hunter’s reaction, a little stunned herself. A few moments passed in silence as Hunter felt like his tongue was stolen, not exactly sure what to say. Eventually though, Willow stepped into the room, a look of confused sympathy in her eyes.
“What are you doing up still? Are you alright?” She asked, her voice was quiet, not just to ensure that she wouldn’t wake the others.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Hunter decided, avoiding that last question. Willow didn’t seem to mind but she could feel more conceal bubble in her gut.
“I saw that my bedroom door was left open, and then I heard someone scream in here,” she explained, each of her words clear and slow. Hunter nodded in a grimace recollection.
“Oh, right, that was me-both of those things were..” he then turned his face away, finding the floor more interesting. Willow stepped forward with a soft smile, lightly leaning against the wall.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she then slid down the wall and repositioned herself to have her back pressed up against it, with her legs crossed. She patted the spot next to her and after a moment of thinking, Hunter steadily sat beside her, hugging her legs to his chest. He remained silent though, chin resting atop his knees as he stared idly forward, though Willow kept her attention on him.
“Did something happen?” She asked, easily slipping into the role of being a comforter. Hunter only managed a small hum of agreement to that question.
“Wanna talk about it?” Willow then followed up with, a light question, one which Hunter could easily back out of or lean into though. He choose the former though, just shaking his head. Willow felt her face soften, a strong sense of empathy running through her as she could only imagine what was going on with Hunter. Luckily, she knew a full proof fix to any emotional problem!
“Want a hug?” She offered, opening her arms just a little as she scooted a little to face him. It took a Hunter a moment of consideration, fear filling him like bile until he delicately allows himself to be taken into Willow’s arms. His arms found themselves clinging to the back of her neck, while hers secured his lower back. Hunter’s body was mostly draped over Willow’s warm legs, her whole body was warm actually, like a blanket on a winter day. Hunter breathed in, finally remembering what Luz told him, in for four seconds, out for four seconds and repeat. Willow took note of what he was doing and copied him, not wanting him to do it alone.
“Thanks, captain,” Hunter mumbled quietly once he was finally level headed again. Willow’s smile appeared a little brighter as Hunter looked up to stare at her. She began rubbing circles onto his back, and Hunter immediately returned the smile.
“Don’t thank me yet, you know, there is a price to these hugs,” Willow grinned, something sly appear in her eyes, the same look she’d house whenever she was scheming with Gus. Hunter’s brow furrowed in confusion, though he enjoyed the more playful tone the conversation was now shifting towards.
“Oh, and what would that be?” He asked, trying his best to play into whatever game Willow was playing right now. Suddenly, her grip on him tightened, practically scooping him closer to her from her hold on his back. Hunter squeaked as he stumbled over, ending up sitting on Willow’s lap, hands still messily clinging to her neck.
“Your laughter!” Willow exclaimed before her fingers greedily shot into Hunter’s sides, scraping about against his torso through the fragile fabric of his shirt. Hunter’s grip onto Willow immediately tightened, it probably wasn’t the best idea to cling onto the person tickling him, but something about it felt natural, like the right thing to do. Eyes widening, small laughter began to crackle out of his mouth, it came out in a disjointed manner, as if this was the first time he had ever laughed.
“Pffha-Wi-Wihihillow!!” He squeaked out, rooting his feet into the floor as his body became more rigid, doing her best not to make a fool of himself by squirming around. Willow grinned, spidering and skittering her nails across the lengths of his tummy, jabbing her nails into the pudgy skin every now and then.
“Aww, that is the cutest laughter I’ve ever heard!” Willow teased him, though she felt a bit of a blush form on her face, she was just glad Hunter didn’t notice as his entire face reddened at the praise, even getting a bit louder because of that.
“Aha-hahaha, I-I dohohohn’t-!!” Hunter couldn’t even got a full sentence out before squealing, his legs bucking as their placement became more wobbly. He fell forward, leaning against Willow with his cheek pressed against her chest. Seizing the opportunity, Willow reached both of her hands over to Hunter’s exposed right side before squeezing them playfully, prompting a few yelps from Hunter as he flailed about against her.
“Careful, Hunter,” Willow spoke in a chastising tone, “you don’t wanna wake up anyone else by being too loud, do you?” Somehow, Hunter’s face felt even more hot as he his heart thumped out of his chest. Taking her advice, he buried his face in her shoulder, trying to stifle all his squeals and laughter. Willow then crawled her fingers down to his hips, lightly tapping and pinching against them, causing Hunter to buck about in her arms.
“Thihihis is-cruhuhuel!” Hunter called out playfully, jerking about from side to side at the touch of Willow’s hands. The poor boy couldn’t even show his scarlet face, all he could really do was keep on laughing away in Willow’s arms. Willow just stared down at him adoringly, watching Hunter just melt away into giggles as he clung onto her. She began pressing her thumbs into his hips with more force, squishing her fingers down against her body, earning a few loud shrieks and cackles into her shoulder.
“Oh come on, you know you love it!” Willow smirked down at him, to which Hunter was only, barely able to meet her gaze, losing the will to speak. His eyes appeared weakly opened, sparkling with joy normally only seen in childhood, as if all of his problems were forced out with his laughter. Hunter could barely keep a hold on Willow, though he wasn’t squirming that much now, half because he didn’t want to get away and half because the poor boy was just too tired for it. As much as Willow adored this side of Hunter, one of the rare, fleeting moments that he wasn’t troubled by a need to survive, she could also recognise just how winded he was getting already. Rasping and gasping for breath, going red in the face, laying against her like a rock ready to sink down in a river, that was all it took for Willow’s fingers to begin lightening their assault, delivering a few more pinches to his sides to keep him all giggly.
Willow held Hunter as he remained in her arms, lightly rocking with each deep inhale he took. When his face returned to a lighter shade, he managed to face Willow, a little unsure of himself. Willow noticed and figured to lead.
“You feeling okay? Want some water?” She offered, to which he shook his head, already feeling more than satisfied.
“No-no, it’s okay-thanks Captain…for all of that,” Hunter added that last bit in an embarrassed mumble, barely able to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Willow just giggled adoringly at his behaviour.
“You wanna go back to bed?” Willow prompted him, but surprisingly, his grip on her didn’t loosen. He shook his head against her shoulder.
“Actually…would you mind if we-stayed like this..for a bit?” Hunter asked, though his tone wasn’t dripping with sadness, Willow had done a thorough job at tickling that out of him. He sounded more…comfortable, a similar feeling as to earning the trust of a stray cat. Willow’s smile remained bright on her first as she kept a tight hold on Hunter, like a teddy.
Merry Christmas @lopsicle! I was your secret santa :D
Gotta say, I'm actually quite happy how this fic turned out, and it's one of my first times writing for the owl house XD (also I was looking through ur blog and love ur writing) With that, I hope that you enjoy the little fic!
Tysm to @cantsaythetword for hosting this year's @squealing-santa! I rly enjoyed it ^^
-
You're never alone
Fandom: The Owl House
Pairings: Huntlow
Summary: Willow offers to provide a little assistance so Hunter can sleep. It reminds him of his old companion Flapjack.
Word count: 1.1k
Masterpost
"The titan has big plans for you..."
"NO!" Hunter jolted upright, drenched in cold sweat. The memories of his past coming to haunt him in his slumber. His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. It was 2am in the morning, his shark plushie was sitting on his left, the bed was soft and comfortable. Slowly, he began to relax and ground himself.
He was safe. At home. With Willow.
"Hunter?" Naturally, Willow had been startled awake. Propping herself up, she stared sympathetically, knowingly. "...another nightmare?"
He slumped down. Curling on himself. He turned his head right to face Willow. "Yeah. It was...pretty bad today"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
Silence hung around the room. The whirling of the fan more notable now. The subtle shifting of the blankets. Their own breathing. It stayed that way for a couple of minutes before Willow finally spoke up.
"Would you be able to sleep?"
Hunter shrugged.
Willow's gaze lingered, unsure of what to do. After another moment of silence, a memory started to surface.
"Quihit ihittt. You're gohonna wake up Guhuhus!"
Willow had been woken up by the clicking sounds of the basement door, and what seemed to be the lights of the nearby bathroom. Unluckily, or in this case luckily, she had slept with her room door open. Willow preferred to have natural ventilation instead of aircon. And if not for that, she wouldn't have seen this adorable sight. Admittedly, she probably shouldn't have lingered at the door. Or open it in the first place. However, she just couldn't stop looking once she had overheard some noise and peaked into the basement.
A quiet little chirp could be heard. And Hunter immedietly shushed them, semi-whispering to his fellow companion.
"Shh shhhhhh. What do you mean it's my fault if he wakes up? You're the one- don't you dare start that agai- no. You're the one tIHICkling mehee. Stahaahap nooohoo!"
There was Flapjack, flapping his small red wings next to Hunter's ears and neck. While Hunter trying, and failing, to catch them. When Gus started tossing a bit in his sleep, Hunter slapped his hands across his mouth instead. Thankfully, Flapjack soon let up.
"Ihi swehear... Nehever do this again while my friends are asleep."
A chirp.
"Well-! Yeah I know I said it helped when you did it last time I couldn't sleep, but I'm literally sharing a room with someone else!"
Another chirp.
"What do you mean you don't see a problem???"
"Uh... Willow? You alright there?" Hunter waved his hands in front of Willow.
"Oh! Sorry. I was just...deep in thought." Willow replied. "If you still can't sleep, I think I could help you. Only if you're alright with it."
Tilting his head slightly, he questioned, "Okay... What do you mean?"
"Would it help if I tickled you? Gently, of course."
Hunter spluttered, eyes widened. A faint blush sprouting near his cheeks. "That's a bit out of nowhere isn't it?" He laughed awkwardly, voice cracking. Starting to fidget with his fingers.
Willow hastily clarified, "If you'd rather not we can just-"
"No! No it- it's alright. I...didn't say no... I mean, I did just say no, but- I was referring to... What I meant to say is that I didn't mean to imply a no to... what you asked." He paused. The very prominent heat in his cheeks were making themselves at home by this point. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down. "I've just never really had anyone, um, do it to me before. And my own laugh is, weird. But... Flapjack used to do it when I couldn't sleep too. In the past."
"I know. That's why I offered." Willow responded instinctively, smiling softly. "And you're laugh is not 'weird'."
"Yes it- Wait. You kne-? What- How?"
That's when she realised she probably shouldn't have mentioned that first part. "Uh- I may have accidentally stumbled across it before." Now it was her turn to laugh awkwardly.
Before Hunter could question further, Willow continued. "Well it's getting late and we should get back to sleeping soon so... My offer still stands."
The third moment of silence for the night filled the room. Hunter shifted for a bit. His eyes flickered to Willow, her hand and the floor. The still atmosphere was eventually broken when Hunter wordlessly leaned against Willow. Crossing his arms and averting his gaze to the side.
She looked down at him in adoration before beginning. Her hand fluttered next to his left ear, earning a small gasp and a stifled laugh. She continued by tracing around the rims and the back of his ear. He leaned further onto Willow as the gentle sensations continued.
"Did I ever mention how cute you are?"
"Oho tihitahn." Hunter's blush deepened. He was now perpetually grinning. And, it didn't seem all that forced.
Willow continued. Her hands wandering down to his neck. Brushing teasing strokes at the back and occasionally using her nails. Not letting Hunter's body get used to the same sensation for too long.
Hunter scrunched his shoulders involuntarily. His body contradicting his heart. Remaining still proved to be impossible for him. As laughter threatened to spill out of his mouth, he tried biting down on his lips. Using his hands to cover his face too. Though this was shown to be difficult when Willow suddenly switched to his sides. Spidering up and down, as well as tracing small shapes.
Willow would have commented more on his adorable behaviours, but decided to stay content in the silence. Bathing in the little slips of laughter from Hunter instead.
In the end, he resorted to burying his head into Willow's shoulders. Muffled giggles could be heard. Everytime he tried to squirm away, he was just met with Willow's body blocking him from moving further. When he started sliding down, Willow would just hoist him back up into her arms. Her fingers continuing to skitter around his sides.
As she went back to a spot behind his ears, Hunter slowly melted into a puddle. Eyes heavy. Heart happy. While easing up, Willow lifted up her free hand and began to run it through his soft hair. Just a heartwarming sight.
It had been a while since he felt this at peace. It always helped not being able to process anything else, other than how much it tickled. Now with the added factor that he felt loved by someone else. It was funny how before all of this his mind was clouded and full of anxiety.
But at least he didn't have to deal with it alone.
Merry Christmas @lopsicle! I was your secret santa :D
Gotta say, I'm actually quite happy how this fic turned out, and it's one of my first times writing for the owl house XD (also I was looking through ur blog and love ur writing) With that, I hope that you enjoy the little fic!
Tysm to @cantsaythetword for hosting this year's @squealing-santa! I rly enjoyed it ^^
-
You're never alone
Fandom: The Owl House
Pairings: Huntlow
Summary: Willow offers to provide a little assistance so Hunter can sleep. It reminds him of his old companion Flapjack.
Word count: 1.1k
Masterpost
"The titan has big plans for you..."
"NO!" Hunter jolted upright, drenched in cold sweat. The memories of his past coming to haunt him in his slumber. His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in. It was 2am in the morning, his shark plushie was sitting on his left, the bed was soft and comfortable. Slowly, he began to relax and ground himself.
He was safe. At home. With Willow.
"Hunter?" Naturally, Willow had been startled awake. Propping herself up, she stared sympathetically, knowingly. "...another nightmare?"
He slumped down. Curling on himself. He turned his head right to face Willow. "Yeah. It was...pretty bad today"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
Silence hung around the room. The whirling of the fan more notable now. The subtle shifting of the blankets. Their own breathing. It stayed that way for a couple of minutes before Willow finally spoke up.
"Would you be able to sleep?"
Hunter shrugged.
Willow's gaze lingered, unsure of what to do. After another moment of silence, a memory started to surface.
"Quihit ihittt. You're gohonna wake up Guhuhus!"
Willow had been woken up by the clicking sounds of the basement door, and what seemed to be the lights of the nearby bathroom. Unluckily, or in this case luckily, she had slept with her room door open. Willow preferred to have natural ventilation instead of aircon. And if not for that, she wouldn't have seen this adorable sight. Admittedly, she probably shouldn't have lingered at the door. Or open it in the first place. However, she just couldn't stop looking once she had overheard some noise and peaked into the basement.
A quiet little chirp could be heard. And Hunter immedietly shushed them, semi-whispering to his fellow companion.
"Shh shhhhhh. What do you mean it's my fault if he wakes up? You're the one- don't you dare start that agai- no. You're the one tIHICkling mehee. Stahaahap nooohoo!"
There was Flapjack, flapping his small red wings next to Hunter's ears and neck. While Hunter trying, and failing, to catch them. When Gus started tossing a bit in his sleep, Hunter slapped his hands across his mouth instead. Thankfully, Flapjack soon let up.
"Ihi swehear... Nehever do this again while my friends are asleep."
A chirp.
"Well-! Yeah I know I said it helped when you did it last time I couldn't sleep, but I'm literally sharing a room with someone else!"
Another chirp.
"What do you mean you don't see a problem???"
"Uh... Willow? You alright there?" Hunter waved his hands in front of Willow.
"Oh! Sorry. I was just...deep in thought." Willow replied. "If you still can't sleep, I think I could help you. Only if you're alright with it."
Tilting his head slightly, he questioned, "Okay... What do you mean?"
"Would it help if I tickled you? Gently, of course."
Hunter spluttered, eyes widened. A faint blush sprouting near his cheeks. "That's a bit out of nowhere isn't it?" He laughed awkwardly, voice cracking. Starting to fidget with his fingers.
Willow hastily clarified, "If you'd rather not we can just-"
"No! No it- it's alright. I...didn't say no... I mean, I did just say no, but- I was referring to... What I meant to say is that I didn't mean to imply a no to... what you asked." He paused. The very prominent heat in his cheeks were making themselves at home by this point. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down. "I've just never really had anyone, um, do it to me before. And my own laugh is, weird. But... Flapjack used to do it when I couldn't sleep too. In the past."
"I know. That's why I offered." Willow responded instinctively, smiling softly. "And you're laugh is not 'weird'."
"Yes it- Wait. You kne-? What- How?"
That's when she realised she probably shouldn't have mentioned that first part. "Uh- I may have accidentally stumbled across it before." Now it was her turn to laugh awkwardly.
Before Hunter could question further, Willow continued. "Well it's getting late and we should get back to sleeping soon so... My offer still stands."
The third moment of silence for the night filled the room. Hunter shifted for a bit. His eyes flickered to Willow, her hand and the floor. The still atmosphere was eventually broken when Hunter wordlessly leaned against Willow. Crossing his arms and averting his gaze to the side.
She looked down at him in adoration before beginning. Her hand fluttered next to his left ear, earning a small gasp and a stifled laugh. She continued by tracing around the rims and the back of his ear. He leaned further onto Willow as the gentle sensations continued.
"Did I ever mention how cute you are?"
"Oho tihitahn." Hunter's blush deepened. He was now perpetually grinning. And, it didn't seem all that forced.
Willow continued. Her hands wandering down to his neck. Brushing teasing strokes at the back and occasionally using her nails. Not letting Hunter's body get used to the same sensation for too long.
Hunter scrunched his shoulders involuntarily. His body contradicting his heart. Remaining still proved to be impossible for him. As laughter threatened to spill out of his mouth, he tried biting down on his lips. Using his hands to cover his face too. Though this was shown to be difficult when Willow suddenly switched to his sides. Spidering up and down, as well as tracing small shapes.
Willow would have commented more on his adorable behaviours, but decided to stay content in the silence. Bathing in the little slips of laughter from Hunter instead.
In the end, he resorted to burying his head into Willow's shoulders. Muffled giggles could be heard. Everytime he tried to squirm away, he was just met with Willow's body blocking him from moving further. When he started sliding down, Willow would just hoist him back up into her arms. Her fingers continuing to skitter around his sides.
As she went back to a spot behind his ears, Hunter slowly melted into a puddle. Eyes heavy. Heart happy. While easing up, Willow lifted up her free hand and began to run it through his soft hair. Just a heartwarming sight.
It had been a while since he felt this at peace. It always helped not being able to process anything else, other than how much it tickled. Now with the added factor that he felt loved by someone else. It was funny how before all of this his mind was clouded and full of anxiety.
But at least he didn't have to deal with it alone.
When you kinda want to try wearing crop tops just cause they look nice, but know that you'll feel way too exposed and start thinking about (ahem ahem) all day
I was sitting beside one of my cousins, let's call them C1
C1 started stretching (above his head type stretch) and my other cousin, lets call em C2, literally started tkling them. And I was trying so hard not to look like shocked or startled KJSKSJSJS
LIKE. C1 then questioned em why he did that, in like a playful manner
C2 then proceeded to say tkle OUT LOUD. and I quote
'didn't you ask me to tkle you?'
'since when???'
'when you did this' then C2 proceeds to raise his hands up the way that C1 did
So he tkled em cause he was stretching
And I was just there staring but also trying not to stare LOL
