Hello you lovely people! @gaybananabread - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
Hello you lovely people!
@gaybananabread
Kayden || Commissions OPEN! Reg Requests CLOSED! Check Navigation for Info! | he/him | adult | bigender | sfw tickle blog | taken by my chaotic partners | procrastinates a lot
Hello! My name is Kayden, and welcome to my garbage blog! This is the hole where I'll keep the links to my masterlists, guidelines, request status, stuff like that. I do have an 18+ blog as well, which you can DM me for
...
Check the Fandom List before requesting!
Commissions are URGENT OPEN!
Regular Fic requests are CLOSED!
My Headcanon requests are CLOSED!
Tk art requests are CLOSED!
...
Regular Fic Masterlist
Headcanon Masterlist
Art Masterlist
Commission Info!
Ask Guidelines
Fandom List for Requests
Contact Info/Request Status/Progress
...
Event Fic Masterlists
TickleTober 2022, SS 2k22, TickleTober 2023, SS 2k23, 300 Fruit Shop, TickleTober 2024, SS 2k24, Cakes and Tickles, TickleTober 2025, SS 2k25
...
Quick little warning! I have big problems with GAD and a physical disability, and may disappear off the Earth for weeks or months at a time. My life is like a child's toy closet: stuff is constantly getting tossed in there. I will try to come back as soon as possible if/when it happens!
~Finally back from medical issues land! Warning for footer tickles up ahead. This is a long overdue commission for the ever-patient @magasand22. Thank you for your understanding, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Gen:
You know Alice would be chill with tickling.
She strikes me as a ler-leaning switch. Alice is always ready to take someone down a peg (cough cough Flambae), but she doesn’t mind a laugh or two herself.
Lee:
43/100, not too ticklish. She does have a few decent spots, though good luck on getting to them (unless she lets you).
IMPERVIOUS to verbal teasing
She’s been conditioned by cyber-dickheads and haters to let words wash over her. You aren’t getting to her with any kind of talk unless she lets you.
Her lee moods are definitely on the rarer side, but they do happen. She can usually get Herm to help her with them (not that either of the two mind).
The whole team knows Alice is ticklish at this point, but few are willing to try and get her. She’s got a habit of turning the tables rather quickly if they do.
Worst spots are her hips and back. They get her snorting like crazy, especially if you have nails (as Malevola discovered). Feet are a lil ways behind them, but definitely still sensitive.
Favorite spot is her stomach. Alice adores tickly kisses there, as well as any kind of gentle tracing or poking. It feels so soft and domestic to her—something she isn’t used to receiving.
She doesn’t really fight while she's being tickled, but she’s definitely a wiggler. Miss ma’am CANNOT hold still, even if her life depends on it.
She’s got a really pitchy laugh, especially if you’re getting a bad spot. It jumps in octaves randomly, littered with snorts and a healthy handful of profanities.
You had better believe she wants aftercare as well. Alice knows what she deserves. Nothing makes her happier than a cup of tea or coffee (though she prefers the latter) and a good TV binge after some tickles.
Ler:
Alice has WAY too much fun messing with her lees (or victims, if you want to be accurate).
She puts her high charisma to good use, teasing the hell out of anyone she targets.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been runnin’ your mouth for the past half hour, and now nothin’?”
“Think I’m gonna have to show the team this. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this much without makin’ problems.”
“Bad spot? Mmm, fuckin’ sucks for you.”
“Did you just try an’ kick me? Ohoho, you’re gettin’ it now, bitch.”
She knows exactly how to use her acrylics to her advantage. She has that sweet-spot for pressure refined to an art, and she puts that knowledge to good use.
Her most frequent targets are Chad and Herman. Anyone is on the table though, whether it be through a request or by being annoying. As you can probably guess, Chad almost always falls into the latter category.
Of course, she’d incredibly respectful of boundaries. If you genuinely want her to stop, she will, zero questions asked.
Aftercare is also a must for her. Alice isn’t letting you out of her sight without proper hydration and something to nosh on. If you’re up for it, she’s all for a care night with the two of you afterwards (as well as anyone else who wants to join in).
We’re talking face masks, nail care, soaks, and plenty of gossip yammering. Plus, home-made nachos and guac. She’s treating you to all the works because you deserve to be taken care of.
Tickle Analysis
“Are you ticklish?”
She’ll give you a look, but she isn’t too phased. It’s more curiosity than anything, with a slight hint of plotting. “Yeah, last I checked. What about you, huh? Think I could find out?”
If y’all are close to one another, she’ll just pounce after saying that. Otherwise, she looks for an invitation.
Spot Ratings
Underarms: 30/100, not very ticklish at all. You might get a few giggles out of her, but for the most part, she can hold back her reactions.
Back: 77/100, no way she’s able to hold still. Deep laughter, and you’d better believe she's arching away from every little touch.
Stomach: 55/100, lots of giggles. She’s a sucker for little kisses or pokes along the area. If you’re looking for a way to cheer her up, here’s your ticket.
Hips: 82/100, they are BAD. It’s near impossible for her to hold still, and she is strong. Good luck keeping her down.
Shoulders: 42/100, giggles here and there. She doesn't mind massages there, though you may catch her trying to hide a smile if you're gentle enough.
Neck: 34/100, only a few giggles here and there. She doesn’t mind massages or little scratches along her neck, and you may get some squeaks if you know how to get her.
Thighs: 47/100, she will kick you. Miss ma'am cannot hold her legs still if you tickle her thighs, even though they’re not that sensitive.
Knees: 20/100, barely ticklish. She’ll grin and try to kick you off, but you likely won’t get any big reactions aside from that.
Feet: 52/100, decently sensitive. She’ll fall into a giggle fit if you poke her soles a few times, though you may risk temporary (yes, temporary) blindness for pulling that stunt.
Map of Foot Tickle Zones
Arches: 56/100, lots of giggles and twitches. Alice can’t hold her feet still if her arches are being messed with.
Between Toes: 35/100, squeaky giggles are possible. Mainly teasing her with light tickles works here, feathers or tips of fingernails.
Under Toes: 35/100, same as between them. Fingernails are your best bet, alongside some gentle pokes to her soles.
Sides: 53/100. About as sensitive as her soles are. She’ll immediately start giggling if you trace along the sides, curling her foot.
Balls of Feet: 51/100, will make her stomp her feet if she can. Very kicky spot, so watch out.
Heels: 48/100, similar to the balls of her feet. Gentle scratches get her pretty good here, might get you a snort if done right.
Ankles: 40/100, will make her twitch her foot and shove at you. She can’t help but giggle if you flutter your fingers along them.
Soles Overall: 57/100, worst spot on her foot. She wears slippers all the time around the house for a reason (especially with friends as mischievous as the Z-Team).
Scenario: Help from Herman
Alice sighed, scrolling through her feed. She’d come across one of the few lee rants from those she followed, and it had put her in a massive lee mood.
She’d invited Herm over for the afternoon to hang out (and try out a new waterproof mascara she’d found), but waiting for him to arrive was agonizing. He drove like an old lady, and Alice was fresh out of patience.
When three timid knocks finally landed on her door, Alice leapt from her couch. Herm was standing in the apartment hall, dripping water onto her doormat. A small container of home-made cake pops sat in his hands.
“H-Hey, Alice, I made— Augh!”
The soggy superhero yelped as he was practically yanked inside, taking care to deposit his cake pops on the counter before letting Alice lead him to the couch.
“I-is everything okay?” he stuttered, looking up at Alice as she shoved him onto the cushions.
Alice hummed, settling onto the couch beside him like she hadn’t just dragged Herman around. “I’m fine. Need some attention from you, though. ASAP.”
Without another word, she flopped down onto his lap, lying on her stomach. Demanding tickles like that did fluster her a bit, but the fuzzy warmth in her chest was more than worth it.
A small “ooooh” left Herman as she relaxed, his smile softening. “O-oh, okay. You could’ve just asked, y-you know I don’t mind.”
Any remark Alice might have come back with was cut off by his fingers fluttering along her spine. The woman bit her lip, giggles already rising in her throat.
“J-juhust shuhuhutihit,” she grumbled, elbowing his thigh.
Herman huffed, biting his cheek at her stubbornness. She was always good at snappy comebacks, but he had a fix for those. He scribbled along her spine with both hands, making sure to put the tips of his nails to good use.
“HEHEHEY! HEHERMAHAHAN!”
The mascara testing could wait a bit longer…maybe an hour or two.
~Another commission for wonderful @magasand22 for Dispatch. Had fun diving into her character, especially trying to imagine her in a more domestic context. Warning for both some footer tickles, as well as canon-typical Courtney interactions (language and nature). I hope you Enjoy!~
Gen:
She gives me ler-leaning switch vibes
Yes, she loves being a menace and using her powers to mess with people, but it’s also nice to let go every now and then.
As per usual, she isn’t very embarrassed by what she enjoys. She can talk about tickling freely (much to her more flustered teammates’ dismay).
Lee:
In typical Courtney fashion, she still tries to stay unbothered by the affection. Yes, it’s flustering to have someone purposely making you laugh and watching you lose it, but she’s usually pretty decent at hiding her affinities.
She’s usually a pretty confident lee, teasing her ler for as long as she can
“Oh, getting handsy, huh? I won’t stop you, sicko.”
“Good with your fingers… Youhu just get behehetter ahand better.”
“Didn’t know you had this in ya. Wahant me to tahahake my shirt off too, make ihit a pahaharty?”
Of course, there are ways to get to her. She can’t really handle genuine compliments that well—she gets too flustered, and her brain short-circuits.
“Y-youhu— Shuhut the fuhuhuck uhup!”
Once you get to her, it’s all blushes, trying to hold her breath to hide her face, and squirming around.
Her usual hero attire comes back to bite her in the ass. That crop-top is thin, and half her midsection is constantly vulnerable.
Believe it or not, Waterboy is usually the one to get her (at least, when the others aren’t getting revenge attacks in). He discovered her sensitivity during one of his rare bouts of confidence; she was too shocked to really fight back once he started. It’s been back-and-forth ever since.
Favorite spots are her thighs. You’d think it would be for an intimate reason, but no. She loves that she can trust someone enough to touch such a sexualized area without making it weird, and that she can simply let go. Good luck making her admit that, though; she’s embarrassed about it.
Worst spots are her armpits and knees. She cannot handle being tickled in either spot for very long, especially her knees. She’ll kick out, squirm, actually be nice to you, the whole nine.
If you get her good enough, she might even get the hiccups, which leads to some interesting mingling with her powers. Still, not a good idea to go too intense with an asthmatic person; she can and will kick your ass for trying.
Her feet aren’t far behind those, though. She can handle being tickled there for a bit longer, but a few stray kicks to the face are a guaranteed attempt.
Make sure to keep her inhaler nearby, no matter what you’re doing. She’ll appreciate the thoughtfulness, and it's just a good idea overall.
Ler:
I advise running for your life
She is one menace of a ler, especially with her powers.
She’s the type to sneak up on you, pop up to scare you, and attack your sides to hear you squeal. Then she’ll just nonchalantly walk off like nothing happened and leave you floundering.
If she’s feeling extra mean, she'll sneak in periodic pokes and squeezes to get under your skin. No true attacks—just little pokes to drive up the anticipation factor. By the time she actually strikes, she barely even has to do anything to get to you.
You know she'd be teasing the hell out of you the whole time, too.
“What? Oh, it tickles? Skill issue.”
“Damn, you’re weak as fuck here. Using my nails must suck for you, huh?”
“Ooo, you’re a screamer, aren’t you? Well, one way to find out…”
Can and will use her powers to her advantage. She’ll go invisible right before switching spots, making damn sure she’s getting in your head.
Her most frequent victims are Robert and Janelle (surprising no one, they get her back more often than not).
Robert is just fun to mess with in general for her. He’s so reactive, and he never gets genuinely mad at her: perfect target.
As for Janelle, Courtney enjoys the challenge. Once she figured out she wouldn’t be gutted for trying, she made a game out of sneaking up on the (unexpectedly ticklish) assassin.
She’s pretty decent with aftercare. She’s still relatively new to the whole “mutual trust and respect between loved ones” thing: it’s a little awkward, but she tries.
You’ll get water, maybe a beer, and her flopping down beside you with some shitty reality show to hate-watch on her phone. If your head happens to land on her shoulder, she won’t shove you off.
Tickle Analysis
Lee Ratings
55/100, not the most ticklish out there, but has some decently sensitive spots. It’s a treasure hunt with her
“Are you ticklish?”
She’s not too phased, plays it cool. “Yeah, and? You wanna touch up on me or somethin’, give it a try? Gotta warn, I’m a screamer.” Inside, however, fluttering stomach, mind racing at the thought of maybe having a goofy and fun moment with someone she trusts. Takes a lot to break that cool exterior.
Spot Ratings
Underarms: 92/100, they’re BAD. She’ll immediately try and go invisible, which only lasts around two seconds because of laughter. Definitely gotta be careful to avoid punches.
Back: 53/100, surprisingly sensitive. She’ll jolt if someone runs a finger down her spine, and it’s possible to get some laughter if you find the right spot
Stomach: 55/100, can get laughter if you try. You’re guaranteed giggles though, especially if she’s wearing her hero outfit.
Hips: 40/100, harder to get giggles. She’ll be cracking smiles the whole time, shoving at your hands, holding back small noises.
Shoulders: 66/100, too close in proximity to her armpits. If the tickles alone don't get her, the thought that you could dip down will.
Neck: 46/100, not too bad. She enjoys being kissed there, though you might get a giggle or two if you’re gentle enough.
Thighs: 49/100, giggle spot. She loves gentle traces across the tops of her thighs, even though she might squeak here and there. A direct line to her softer side, if done right
Knees: 78/100, another kick spot. She jolts if you get the backs of them, and it’s definitely got a chance for hiccups if you target them. Treat with caution, and watch out for boots flying at your face
Feet: 79/100, they’re pretty bad. She can take them a bit longer than the others, but you will be kicked at least once.
Map of Foot Tickle Zones
Arches: 44/100, some decent giggles and squeaks. You’ve gotta get her to arch them, but good reactions are possible.
Between Toes: 62/100, laughter is coming. She can hold back a little bit because of the size of the spot, but persistent and gentle tickles will kill her.
Under Toes: 51/100, definitely some decent giggles. She’ll start flailing a bit, shoving at you and tugging at her leg.
Sides: 78/100, worst spot on them. Laughter, maybe some hiccups if you really try. She can and will attempt to kick you in the nose.
Balls of Feet: 23/100, not very sensitive at all. Since she runs a lot, they’ve been relatively desensitized.
Heels: 33/100, working out has built up a bit of a resistance. The key is finding the right spot and complimenting her
Ankles: 69/100, decently ticklish. She’s made them decently mobile after all her training and running, which has made them much more sensitive than she’d anticipated.
Soles Overall: 43/100. Her feet are full of specific zones that really kill her; you simply need patience and a good hold to avoid an ER visit.
~~Scenario: Courtney getting a little haughty after a mission with Janelle and Alice
“I’m just saying, I totally carried that mission,” Courtney grinned, blowing out a puff of smoke. Janelle, Alice, and her were all relaxing together, enjoying their mid-shift break.
“As if, bitch. You were just as close to gettin’ blasted as we were.”
“Agreed. One step to the left, and you would’ve been immobilized. I’m almost sad to have missed that opportunity.”
Courtney huffed, flicking her cigarette butt at the assassin. “Whatever, edgelord. I socked the fucker, and I got the points. Seems like a carry to me.”
“Says you! You pull that whole ‘sexy jackass’ bullshit all day, out here callin’ her edgelord. Bitch, you don’t—”
Alice was cut off by a yelp as her finger pressed into Courtney’s side, the woman’s cheeks quickly heating. She was quick to recover, however, grabbing Alice’s wrist.
“You got a thing for sexy jackasses? Cause I wouldn’t mind that hand going lower…”
Before Courtney could receive the punch she deserved, Janelle swept over, spidering her fingers across the woman’s other side. Predictably, she yelped, jolting away towards Alice.
The two women locked eyes, immediately formulating a plan.
Courtney didn’t need words to know how screwed she was.
~A commission for @magasand22 for our girl! We love Dispatch here; this fandom could use some more tickly food. Warning for footer tickles and descriptions for my other peeps. Thank you so much for your commission, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Gen:
She strikes me as a lee-leaning switch, though she’s incredibly hesitant to ask anyone, or even acknowledge her moods herself.
She’s the Blonde Blazer: strong, reliable, mature. Would people still respect her if they knew?
Obviously, this changes once she gets closer to the Z-Team and learns to accept herself. Their methods of exposure therapy are rather effective.
Lee:
She’s a VERY giddy lee
She views being tickled as a way to destress when time allows. It’s fun for her, just letting go and laughing freely with someone she trusts.
Thanks to her timidness around being tickled, teasing her is an easy way to render her speechless and blushing.
Air tickles kill her, too. If she knows you’re going to try to get her, she’ll giggle and flinch away from even one wiggly finger. And you know that she’s going to be blushing up a storm the whole time.
When she first starts getting comfortable with the Z-Team outside of work is when the lee moods really get her. These guys are constantly messing around, teasing one another, the closer pairs trading off-hand pokes or jabs. In some cases, they even full-on attack one another with the silly affection. Mandy can’t help but notice each little moment, her mind lingering.
It’s chaos the moment her friends find out. They’re respectful of her hesitance, of course, but once that wanes, it’s teasing around the clock.
The amulet that provides her powers also toughens her skin, making her not as ticklish while wearing it. It’s rather difficult to find a good spot, though the mind games are still annoyingly effective.
She’s rather ticklish without her amulet, though. A few pokes here and a scribble there will throw her right into a giggle-fit of adorable proportions.
Favorite spots are her hips and neck. There’s something so nice to her about being able to trust someone enough to tickle her hips, and it’s a wonderful spot to have tickled while cuddling. As for her neck, she likes the gentle nature of the spot, and how easy it is to receive tickly kisses there. Our girl is a sucker for tickly affection.
Worst spots are her feet for sure. Any scribbles or light pokes to her soles have her squeaking and squealing, amulet on or off.
If you can get a good enough spot, she may start snorting. The sounds are regarded as a high reward, and she’s incredibly embarrassed about them; any compliments directed towards them immediately have her blushing.
She’s usually decently tired after being tickled, especially if she isn’t wearing her amulet. A nap and some gentle head scratches make the day that much sweeter for her.
Ler:
GOOD LUCK
She’s a menace when she gets into a ler mood. It’s not too frequent, but it definitely still happens.
Robert is a common victim of her shenanigans. A few pokes while they grab drinks turn into a full-on attack, usually resulting in them spilling beer on someone’s carpet. It’s all in good fun, and someone’s only been kicked lightly in the face twice.
She’s super playful, enjoying the fact that she can make others smile while having fun herself. Most of the team don’t mind the silliness either, so it’s a win-win in her mind.
She tries to keep a relatively professional profile at SDN, so most of her mischief occurs while out with the team for drinks or a hang-out in someone’s cramped apartment.
Her and Visi have a bit of a feud going. The invisible woman started sneaking in pokes after her discovery, which prompted Mandy’s stealthy retaliation. Playful war soon followed, though the victor has yet to be decided.
Such a compliment-giver. She’ll find something about you to praise, no matter how vehemently you deny it.
“Oh my god, your laugh is beautiful. Seriously, why have you been hiding this?”
“Ooo, bad spot, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Now, where were we?”
“My nails? Alice painted them for me. Oh, they tickle? What a coincidence….”
“Hey, snorts aren’t gross. They’re fun, and I’m gonna work to hear more of them. C’mere!”
Her tickling style is super playful and sporadic. Lots of pokes, quick scribbles up and down your sides, and fluttering nails to tease you. Her goal is to get the giddiest smile out of you as she can.
Despite all the teasing and poking, she’s incredibly respectful of boundaries. If you tell her to stop, it’s hands-off, care on.
“All good? Need anything?”
Regardless of what you say, you're getting something to drink afterwards: something you specifically requested, or whatever she has change for from the vending machines.
And, of course, cuddles. You know this girl is down for some calm aftercare, maybe a beer or two if it's late and you’re looking to settle in for the night. Those nails are also pretty good for head scratches, if you’re willing to ask.
Tickle Analysis
Lee Ratings
60/100, decently ticklish lee
“Are you ticklish?”
Immediate flush on her cheeks, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. How could she not get at least a little giddy at the mention of her ticklishness? She might deny it or avoid the question if she’s feeling playful, but it’s an obvious farce. She wants you to prove her wrong.
Spot Ratings
Underarms: 55/100, not too bad. It’ll get her giggling and squirming, but no huge reactions.
Back: 35/100, just barely. Super light giggles, could fall asleep while being tickled there.
Stomach: 72/100, definitely a hot spot. She’ll laugh and kick out, try half-heartedly to fight you off. Definitely blushing.
Hips: 60/100, will get some laughs. It’s one of her favorites because they’re just ticklish enough where she’s laughing, but not too intense that she’s losing it.
Shoulders: 30/100, similar to her back. Massages get her grinning, though she can usually conceal her ticklishness if need be.
Neck: 45/100, lots of giggles. One of her favorite spots to have tickly kisses or little brushes on. Perfect for relaxing and cheering her up.
Thighs: 55/100, giggle spot once again. She’ll kick her legs a lot more when tickled here, twist around. The tops are worse than the sides.
Knees: 10/100, really not that sensitive at all. Probably some smiles, though no audible reactions from the tickling alone.
Feet: 90/100, worst spot for sure. Squeaks, squeals, lots of bright laughter. If you try hard enough and tease her, you may even get a snort or two.
Map of Foot Tickle Zones
Arches: 40/100, not the most ticklish part. Maybe stretched out will get to her, but she can usually just giggle.
Between Toes: 70/100, definitely ticklish. She’ll squeal and twist around in your hold, curling up to try and hide the spot.
Under Toes: 95/100, VERY ticklish. Worst part of her foot, will get her squealing and likely snorts in just a minute or two. Deep blushes and lots of cursing.
Sides: 30/100, more flustering than ticklish. Just knowing that you’re close to a sensitive spot is enough to get her giggling and biting her lip.
Balls of Feet: 50/100, laughter and pitchy giggles.
Heels: 53/100, more giggles and squirming. She finds it really hard to stay still when back spots like those are being targeted, especially when most of her foot is left free to move.
Ankles: 65/100, gets to her. She just finds it so flustering for whatever reason. She’ll shake her head back and forth as she giggles, mussing up her hair (amulet on or off).
Soles Overall: 60/100, lots of giggles and the occasional squeal. Plenty of different ways to get her laughing with them, and a rosy blush to accompany them all.
Tickling Others
About a 30/70 split ler to lee, but she does get into ler moods on occasion. She’s a pretty good tickler too; she can wreck you if you ask (or knowingly provoke her).
She tickles others as a fun way to brighten her loved ones’ spirits. As long as they’re comfortable with it, why not make them smile while having a bit of fun herself?
Occasionally, she’ll use tickling as a way to knock a member of the team down a peg (though that’s usually their goal anyway).
~~Scenario: Relaxing with Robert~~
“Still can’t believe that kid got on the billboard,” Mandy sighed, grabbing a beer off her coffee table. She’d invited Robert over to relax after their shift. “If you’re going to vandalize something, at least have a way to escape afterwards.”
Robert chuckled a bit, sipping his own bottle. “Kids are stupid. Bet his train of thought ended at Hey, that looks fun and kinda dangerous.”
“Fair enough.”
Her hand closed around the top of the glass, twisting instinctively. The cap didn’t budge an inch, as she wasn’t wearing her amulet. A soft grunt left her from the effort.
Robert huffed, shaking his head. “You’ve gotta do it normie-style, remember?” He emphasized his point with a small poke to her side, grabbing the bottle from her hands.
She jerked away instinctively, cheeks heating up. “H-hey, I can open a beer myself. Just got used to the powers.”
The way Robert rolled his eyes was fond, but still sparked a bit of vengeful mischief within her. She hadn’t had any beer yet, instead drunk off giddiness and a slight taste of exhaustion from work.
Without much thought, Mandy lunged at him, latching her fingers onto his sides. Her nails immediately began spidering along his shirt, pressing in just hard enough to get a yelp out of him.
“Hey, hehehey! Ihi’m gonna spihihill!”
It was a bit late for that, as a small splash of the golden liquid was already shining against her wood floor. She didn’t care—a mop would take care of that, and retaliating against Robert’s snark was definitely worth it.
“What? I’m getting you to show off your amazing smile, normie-style.”
~Is it obvious my partners are on a trip? Viktor’s joint condition is never specified in the show, so he’s getting mine for the sake of this fic. Got a flare day and decided this was both motivation to write and get out of bed. Just a short drabble to fulfill the poll (don’t look at how long it took). I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Viktor
Ler: Jayce
Summary: Viktor wakes up to a joint flare. Jayce tries to help lighten his partner’s load with a rather unconventional method, though neither of them can truly complain.
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
Pain. A persistent, aching pain that radiated in the fissures between each joint in Viktor’s body. Sometimes, he swore they were separating, the tendons and ligaments tearing themselves from his bones. It would explain the swelling and the agony.
Unfortunately, life couldn’t be that simple. His joints were simply unstable, the tissue between them coming “pre-loosened at birth,” as Jayce so eloquently put it when Viktor explained his condition. It had made him smile at the time, but not even Jayce’s sweet silliness could distract him from the aching.
With a groan, Viktor attempted to sit up in bed. His spine lit up with an oddly cold pain, his vertebrea feeling…wrong, for lack of a better word. He could tell he’d be spending a decent amount of time in bed that day.
As Viktor contemplated ripping his spine out, Jayce popped in to check on him. He always rose earlier than Viktor, getting up to prepare breakfast for the two of them. The slimmer man could smell the pancakes cooking on the stove. The bright smile on his face slowly melted into a concerned frown as he noticed Viktor’s grimace. “Vik? What’s wrong?”
“Flare.”
That simple word told Jayce everything. With a small sigh, he walked over to the bed, giving Viktor’s forehead a little kiss before heading back out of the room. He returned a small while later with Viktor’s heated blanket, painkillers, some tea, and his pattented 2XL “blanket hoodie” for Viktor to drown in.
It didn’t take long before Viktor was situated on the heated blanket, his back pain slightly soothed by the warmth. Jayce’s tea helped the painkillers go down, and being surrounded by Jayce’s familiar scent was rather comforting.
Plus, of course, there was the strong man holding him, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on Viktor’s wiry shoulder.
“At least it’s not a lab day…” Victor muttered, pressing his face into Jayce’s bicep. He tried not to let his disability interfere too heavily with their schedule; unfortunately, that also meant he’d force himself to work through the pain.
Jayce huffed at that, pressing a kiss to the crown of the man’s head. “Focus on resting. No thinking about work or deadlines right now,” he said, giving Victor a little squeeze.
Despite the affection, Victor still had to get one last sentence in. “Just…resting for the morning. I can still get some things done around the flat later on.” He squirmed in Jayce’s arms to emphasize that point, carefully turning away from his partner.
That got a scoff out of Jayce. “No you won’t. You’re gonna rest until you get some color back in your cheeks.”
“Really now?” he goaded, quirking one thick brow at his partner. “And just how do you expect to enforce that rule, Jayce?”
In hindsight, provoking Jayce was a poor decision; then again, it was rather fun for Viktor to watch that mischeviously playful smile tug at the corners of his lover’s mouth. He knew some form of retaliation would follow, but frankly, he couldn’t find it in himself to try and resist. Jayce always looked so happy when he was being a goof.
Predictably, Jayce attacked. His warm hands latched onto Victor’s sides, leg swinging over Viktor’s hips to straddle him. Every movement was intentional, care placed in each motion to ensure that his aching partner wasn’t harmed.
“Jayce!” Viktor laughed, loosely shoving at his partner’s shoulders. He was hardly putting up a fight, hands sliding to smoosh against Jayce’s stubble-covered cheeks. Their soft tousling was ridiculous, yes, but it was also rather fun.
It wasn’t long before Victor felt a gentle prodding at his sides, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Whyhyhy?!”
Jayce chuckled at his partner’s giggly question, pressing a quick kiss to Victor’s upturned lips. “Your nerves are being evil and picking up pain. Making you laugh and smile is a much better use for them.”
‘Thahat’s nohohot— hehehey!”
Viktor's lips were stopped by Jayce’s own, causing the man’s eyes to roll. Not only was it absurdly sappy of his partner to kiss him, but it was also a bit adorable to see the pure joy on Jayce’s face during the embrace.
Unsurprisingly, Jayce was loving the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of the liveliness—Victor’s laughter, warm and alive, vibrating against his lips, little puffs of hectic air hitting his upper lip. It showed Victor at his core, Jayce thought: uncontrollably present, beyond the layer of steely composure he so often wore.
Jayce couldn’t get enough of it.
His partner needed air, however, so Jayce was eventually forced to let up on his tickly kisses. His fingers stilled, sliding down to rub at Viktor’s ever-sore hips. The breathless giggles that followed brought a bright, rosy hue to the mechanic’s cheeks.
“Youhu ahahare a mehenace, Talihis,” Victor huffed, squirming beneath his partner. His joints still ached, but the dopamine rush from Jayce’s shenanigans did help ease the mental load of it all. “Shahame.”
“Hmm…nope, none of that here,” he shrugged, enjoying his shamelessness. He’d made his partner happy; where was the shame in that? “I made you smile. That’s a good day for me.”
That got a scoff out of Viktor, though he was struggling to suppress a smile. “You have no right to be so cute after acting so cruel.”
“It’s a talent.”
Jayce flopped down beside his tired partner with a kiss. Once the blankets were spread semi-evenly, he carefully slotted his leg between Viktor’s and snuggled closer. Their eyes met, and a fond concern softened the edge of Jayce’s smile. “Feel any better?”
A small warmth buzzed in Viktor’s chest at that. Jayce had done all of that hoping to help with his pain, or at least to raise his spirits. Not only did he respect Viktor’s pain, but he tried his best to be present without babying the man. What did he do to get so lucky?
“Much. Thank you, Jayce.”
The joyful satisfaction Jayce felt was nearly palpable. He pulled Viktor in for one more kiss before clicking their lamp off. “I’ll make food in an hour or so. You try to sleep.”
Viktor huffed as his forehead received a little poke. With a roll of his eyes, he adjusted the temperature of his heating pad and let himself melt. The aching in his joints was still present, but not as jagged around the edges. Tolerable.
Jayce’s methods may have been a bit odd, but Viktor had to admit: they worked. He let his eyes close, pleasantly surprised by the hope he felt towards the rest of the day.
Jayce had a way of bringing out that side of him, he supposed.
I haven’t written a fic for JUST my Spiderverse ocs in a LONG time and I finally got the motivation to do so. GAHHH I’m actually rather happy with how this turned out. Hope yall like it too.
Words: 2,800+
Characters: Ruthie, Mikey, and Oakley
A colorful portal opened up in Ruthie’s room, filling the room with warmth from the colorful radiating lights. It was a nice contrast compared to the previous darkness that filled the space. Stepping from the portal were two teenagers, both tired after a long day of schooling and spider society missions. The girl was held gently in the boys arms bridal style. Softly swaying her paws back and forth. Her cheek pressed against his chest, a soft purring rumbling in her chest.
“Thank you for bringing me home, Teddy…” Ruthie mumbled, rubbing her face against Micheal. A soft chuckle coming from the bear boy.
“Yknow I’ll always do it, I like being able to carry ya.” He carried her over to her bed, taking a seat on the side of it as he still kept her in his arms. His own purring now audible; resting his chin on the top of her head.
“You’re so good to me, you know that right?” She rolled over onto her back, hugging onto his arm whilst she layed in his lap. Gently tracing her nails over the patterns on his suit. They hadn’t even bothered to get into comfy clothes yet. Just being with each other was what mattered right now.
“You know I’d do anything for you, angel.”
“Yeahhh…you’ve done some pretty stupid shit in the past.” She smugly pressed her lips out at him, it didn’t last long however as his lips pressed against her forehead. His right hand cradling her head upright. A warm smile drawing its way across the girls freckled face.
“Sometimes I do dumb things but I don’t regret a thing.” Her fingers traveled from his arm upwards. Cupping his cheeks and rubbing her thumbs onto the sides of his face. His soft hairs that spread across his jaw and chin prickled her paws pads, but she didn’t mind. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentle embrace from her. A grumbly sigh coming from him.
“You wanna stay tonight? I think you left a change of shorts and shirt last time you came over.” She already knew the answer but still wanted to use her manners to ask.
“I’d love to, angel, let me get you something to change into.” He stood back up, keeping her in one arm as he pulled some of her blankets aside. Sitting her down on the mattress and tucking some of her hair past her ear. Stopping in his tracks as he walked to her dresser, feeling a tug on his sleeve.
“Is something wrong, baby?”
“Would you be willing to check on Dad? He doesn’t know we’re home yet and I usually have to drag him from his computer around this time.”
Oakley had a bad habit of getting glued to his work, Micheal knew this first hand. He remembered back when he had to do the same thing when he first had an internship with him. Late nights with Mikey heading home and Oakley was still working. Six coffees in too…
“Yeahhh…we really need to get him on an alternative from his coffee one of these days.” He shared a giggle with Ruthie for a moment. “I’ll pay the guy a visit.”
She scooted on the bed, leaning up to grab his face again and peck him on the lips. A warm feeling spreading to the boys ears as he smiled brightly.
“You’re the best, Mikey.”
——————————🐈🐻—————————
Micheal closed the door knob slowly to Ruthie’s room. Now changed out of his hero suit and into far more comfortable clothes. Black sport shorts and a baggy grey Metallica shirt. Pushing his glasses up his nose as he took a nearby elevator down to Oakley’s Lab.
The metal doors sliding open to a whole mad house of stuff going on. Taking Micheal a back as he made his way into the lab. Papers everywhere, three empty cups sprinkled throughout, 90s rock music playing on the speakers. All the Octobots spread across the room, weaving around each other doing who knows what. Oakley being smack dab in the middle of his arms on his laptop, leaned almost all the way back in his chair and feet up and crossed on this desk. Goggles on face and pencil in his mouth.
Almost missing the sight of the boy as he weaved his way through the maze of Octobots. But quickly noticing him as his orange mechanical arm “Bee” darted from sorting files to wrap around Micheal’s arm.
A yip being pulled from the boy in surprise.
“Oh gods- Hehey there Bee good to see you.”
“Miiiichealll the Mike man! Hey buddy!” The scientist spun around in his chair to face the boy. Placing him laptop down on his chair and walking over to greet his intern. “I didn’t know you were visiting tonight! Where’s Ruthie at?”
Mikey untangled himself from Bee’s grasp, giving the bot a brief pat on the “head”.
“We had a lot of missions today and she’s really tired. She also took a science test so she’s zonked.”
Oakley nodded as he wrapped an arm around Micheal. Patting his back.
“Ahhh I see no worries, glad to have your company, my boy. Please have a seat, I promise I’m not ignoring you. I just really need to finish this.” The scientist plopped himself back onto his chair and reopened his laptop, continuing his document. A work ahoholic at heart…this made Micheal bite the inside skin of his cheek.
“You know it’s okay to take a break from your work every once in a while, you’ve got way too much on your plate, Oakley…”
“Pffft- ‘too much’ yeah yeah. I am an owner to a science based company I don’t get to take breaks mister. I have experiments to run, pay roll to put out”-
“Okay well let me rephrase…” Mikey pushed Oakleys back of the chair. Looking over the doctor. “Ruthie asked me to pull your from your desk and rest.”
Oakley rolled his eyes. “What, put me to bed like a toddler. Who’s the adult here?”
“I turn eighteen in June to be fair.” Mikey pulled the goggles up Oakleys face and onto his head. Getting a snort from the doctor.
“Haha hilarious, just give me a few more minutes and let me finish this one thing.” Oakley flipped his laptop open once more and continued typing. His four other Octobots had slowly made their way from their jobs. Hovering over the doctor and chirping together in conversation. Looking expectantly at Micheal. Giving the boy a thought, it was mean…but it could work.
“Maybe I need to convince you in another sense.” He slowly began to raise his hands above the scientist.
“What are you gonna do big boy. Take my laptop? I have access through my goggles”- As he spun around his chair to face Mikey his computer was snatched from him by Ratchet his green tentacle. And Mikey looked over him, clawed fingers over the doctor. “Don’t…even…think about-“
Before Oakley could even think about jumping from his office chair Micheal had already wrapped his arms around him.
“HEY HEY!!- NOHO Nuh uh Micheal hey buddy buddy come on!”- Oakley tried to squirm out of Micheal’s arms. Doing literally nothing compared to Mikey’s strength and size. His mechanical arms did not aid in Oakleys escape. Simply chirping and watching the two.
“Yeahhh that’s not gonna happen…”.
Micheal sat now in Oakleys chair having said scientist’s back to his chest. Hovering a clawed hand over Oakleys tummy covered with a cheesy science shirt. That read; “He He He (helium) laughing gas” rather fitting for the occasion. “Are you gonna take a break now? Last chance Oak…”
Oakley looked off to the side, averting his gaze. This was stupid. HE should be the one in Micheal’s position right now…but he wasn’t. And his arms were even helping him. STUPID sentient tentacles…if he really wanted to escape he could just take control of them and instead get Micheal right now…funny how he didn’t…He simply didn’t answer Micheal’s question. Choosing the stubborn route. Making Mikey shake his head.
“Your choice old man…”
“I am not ohHOHAHAH!!!”-
Mikey dove his hand into the middle of Oakleys burnt stomach. Shaking his fingertips into the skin and skittering up and down the middle. Making the little scientist squeal and thrash in his arms.
“MIHICHEAL!- Uhun-hahand meEEE!!”-
Mikey kept his fingers strumming against the scientists stomach like he was playing guitar. His other arm drapped across his chest and hooked underneath his arm. Tracing his pointer into the hollow center. Jerking a snort from Octavious.
“Yeah I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon, besides…you need a good laugh, doc.” As he finished his sentence he dove his face into the crook of Oakleys neck with a deep breath. Blowing a raspberry into the sensitive skin and shaking his face.
“PFFAHAHA!- *snort* GYEEHE!- *hic* MIHICHEAL!”-
He wouldn’t admit it out loud but Oakley was rather enjoying himself already. His arms displayed this emotion as they chirped and squeaked. Bee and Arcee affectionately wrapped around Mikey’s arms as he tickled their host. Hotshot ruffling up Oakleys hair. And Ratchet lifting up Oakleys shirt for Mikey to slither his fingers under.
“Why thank you Ratchett! Funny how they’re being nicer than you are, almost as if you’re enjoying yourself.” Mikey traveled his fingertips down to the scientists sides. Raking his blunt nails up and down the metal and every other time tracing the indents.
“PUHUT A SOCK IN IHIT- MIHICHEAL!”- Oakley threw his head back against Mikey’s shoulder. All sorts of silly laughter flew from his mouth all over the place. He always had a goofy and loud laugh but it was turned up 50% whenever he was tickled. It was almost endearing. Funny how the big bad tickle monster with tentacles was this goofy when tickled.
Micheal didn’t wanna make Oakley laugh too hard. Changing his tickles on the poor scientists sides just to be two fingers. One on each side. This particular spot being one of Oakleys worst spots, still making him squirm and with but his laughter mellowed.
Pulling down his goggles onto his face he practically curled up in Micheal’s lap. Bee untangled himself from Mikey’s arm to nuzzle beneath his owners chin.
“Sorry for the bad influhuence…” Mikey chuffed with a smile. Circling his fingers against the scientists sides. A long wheeze coming from the scientist as he put a hand over his mouth. It was nice to see the change of pace from the scientist. He didn’t wanna exhaust Oakley and with a few more pokes up the scientists hips and sides he stopped. Pulling Oakley back in the office chair into a tight hug.
“You alright there bud?”
Catching his breath he nodded. Bee wrapped around his torso and Hotshot patted his head. Ruffling up the brown and blonde messy curls. A few left over chuckles escaping Oakley with a wide smile on his face. Grinning ear to ear with his dimples painting the sides.
“Yeheah…I’m okay, my boy.”
Mikey nuzzled his nose into the crook of Oakleys neck, a screech coming from him.
“HEY!- Ohokay buddy, I think it’s your turn.”
“Wait what?”- Before Mikey could really process much of anything. Arcee and Ratchett had snuck between the gaps of the office chair. Latching their nimble fingers onto Mikey’s sides and gently massaging the area. In surprise Mikey squealled like a puppy and threw his head backwards against the cushion of the chair. His hands darting down from the previous hug to try and pry the tentacles fingers from their evil grip.
“NOHO wahahait *snort* hahang ohon!”-
“Yeahhhh not so funny when you’re the one laughing silly huh?” Micheal’s tactic of having Oakley in his lap kind backfired on him as the scientist reached down to press his thumbs into the boys knees and squeeze. Avoiding the possible kicking that almost knocked him right into his nose.
“Yeah yeah chuff this bark that. Remember to plan your fights, my boy.”
The boy arched his back away from the green and pink Octobots as they crawled there way towards his belly. A known favorite to them by now. He had more than enough strength to push them off him if he really really really wanted to. But it was very certain that was not what he wanted.
Taking off his glasses from his face he palmed his eyes in his hand. A great big smile showing his fangs and tooth gap were only visible to the tentacles and Oakley.
“GYEEHEHEE!- Oahakley Wihihyyyy?”-
Oakley smirked as he turned around in the boys lap and pulled Mikey’s hand from his face.
“Noooo hiding baby bearrrr.” Oakleys hands slithered there way under Mikey’s raised arms and into his underarms. Rubbing his thumbs in circles and gently scratching his fingers onto Mikey’s back. A cub like shrill coming from him as he shot his arms down hard. Trapping Oakleys fingertips there.
“Sorry, my boy. But it seems to me that my fingers are stuck.” Octavious dug his thumbs into the boys pits. Several snorts falling from the boys lips. It was a happy sound for Oakley to hear.
“Can you lift your arms for me, Mikey?”
Said bear boy shook his head no through his laughter.
“Come onnnnnn you can do it.”
Micheal didn’t know whether or not to trust Oakley. But he eventually did lift his arms meekly. Allowing Oakley to pull his hands away.
“See!! Now was that so hard?” He reached up to scratch under the boys chin and trace his fingers along the side of his neck. Nearly getting them squished as Micheal scrunched up his neck hard.
“WAHAHIT!- *SQUEAL*!! Nahaht there oho gohHOHODS!”- He gave up squirming away rather quickly as he resorted to pulling Oakley into a hug. Nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck.
Oakley couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. Patting him on the back and rolling his eyes.
“Ohokayyy okay…I’ve got you…Even after all these years your laughter has stayed just the same my boy.”
That got a happy chuff from Mikey. Hugging Oakley a bit tighter, pulling a huff of air out of him. “Ooookay that’s a bit tight there big guy.”
“Sohorry…*yip*!”
Oakley pushed off his octobots from the boy as he instead dragged his nails up and down Mikey’s back. A puppy like whine coming from the boy.
“Ohoakleheeeyyy…”
Said doctor gave the boy one last squeeze before letting him go. Both of them getting off the chair while Mikey hugged himself around his sides.
“You win buddy, I’ll head to bed. Just gotta shut stuff down before hand.”
A delighted smile showed on Mikey’s face. “Glahad to hear it…I’m gohonna go up by Ruthie. I think she’s waited a little too long.”
Oakley closed his computer and turned off the light switches in his lab. Heading to a secondary elevator that lead to his room. “All is well my boy, sleep well. Don’t let the giggle bugs biteee.”
With a chuff Mikey shook his head, opening the elevator he came in to go back upstairs.
“Night, dad.” As the elevator doors closed Oakley couldn’t ignore the fact smile that was glued to his face. “Dad huh…” he mumbled to himself. His mechanical arms chirping with him. “He’s a good kid.”
—————————🧪🐻—————————
Mikey opened Ruthie’s Doorknob to her room. The night light was turned on and he could hear the soft rumbling of her purring. It was such a gentle sound it always made him happy. His own chuffing starting up once more. Taking off his glasses and setting them on her night stand. Running his hand through his hair before laying down next to his favorite person. Peeling the blankets open like a fruit.
“Mikeyyyy…” Ruthie woke up from his presence but didn’t move much, simply reaching her arms up and towards him.
“Hey sweetheart, I’m back.”
He nuzzled under her weighted and soft blankets to get to her. His arms curling around her torso and hers around his neck. Facing each other.
“Did da go to bed?”
He nodded with a grumble, kissing her face. “Yeah it went…rather well after a bit of convincing.”
A soft smirk forming on her face, but it turned soft rather fast. “Is that why your face is so red?”
Mikey’s freckles got even warmer at the question but he shrugged it off. “Yeah yeah…it worked though. I’m just happy to be here with you.”
Ruthie mewed as she got closer to him, resting beneath him and wrapping a leg around him. Her paw peeking out from the blanket and fangs at the crook of her lips.
“Me too…”
It didn’t take very long for the both of them to fall asleep. Their purring and chuffs both made the quiet room feel safer. And like home.
This is so flippin cute! I love how you write each of their dynamics with one another, and the imagery of the scenes is so fun! Oakley’s lab is my new favorite thing to think about today. Happy belated Birthday my friend, and amazing job on another treat of a fic 👌💖
~Thank you so much for commissioning me, Anon! I had a lot of fun writing these two as the fluffy dorks that they are. Cas would so convince Dean to have fun when he's bored, so that's my idea behind this. Thank you again, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Dean
Ler: Castiel
Summary: While alone in the bunker, Cas gets in the mood for playful fun with his partner. Dean takes some convincing, though once they're in a comfy pillow fort, he can't complain. That is, until his angel decides to get playful...
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!
“No way. Absolutely not.”
Dean huffed as he turned away from the angel, throwing a hand up to emphasize how not acceptable the idea was. “You know I don’t do that kiddie crap.”
“But the humans in the film seem so happy!”
Castiel pouted as he carried his phone towards Dean, pointing at the screen. He’d recently learned how effective that expression was when he wanted to get his way; on most days, Dean couldn’t seem to resist it. “Why are you so against the idea, anyway?”
Dean did his best to ignore that rather cute expression, steeling his resolve. He had a point to prove, damn it. “Because it’s dumb! I haven’t made a damn pillow fort since I was seven, and that was only ‘cuz Sammy wouldn’t stop crying.”
“Exactly,” the angel insisted, still following behind Dean. He was nothing if not determined. “Things have been calm, Dean. Why can’t we enjoy a moment together while Sam is away?”
While he would’ve loved to keep walking away during their “argument,” Dean had reached the end of the hallway. He still wasn’t fully used to the maze-like hallways within their relatively new home. Damn bunker and its stupidly confusing layout…
“Dean…” Cas murmured, coming up behind the hunter. As stubborn as Dean was being, there was always a way to win him over. He simply required the proper motivation.
Two gentle hands rested themselves upon Dean’s hips, pulling him back against the angel. The warmth of the holy man’s chest against Dean’s back immediately set off a flurry of joyful little butterflies in Dean’s stomach—ones that he refused to acknowledge.
“You son of a…” he grumbled, trailing off as those hands rubbed little circles into his hip divots. Why did Cas have to know him so well? “Fine, okay? Fine! Damn bird.”
With a triumphant little grin, Castiel pecked Dean on the cheek. The man could only sigh as Cas trotted off toward his bedroom, undoubtably going to sift through a massive pile of blankets that were awaiting them there. The angel knew he’d get Dean to cave, as he always did on matters like that.
Despite his protests, the idea did seem pretty nice to Dean. Sitting in a little blanket fort with Cas, snuggling up close to one another, all warm and private…
Okay, yeah. I can work with this.
—
“This fluffy blanket should be added to the interior,” Castiel mused, tying the corner of his current blanket onto the back of a chair. “It would make a nice addition to the main space. Right, Dean?”
Dean sighed and did as he was told, questioning when the “happy” aspect he was promised of the evening would arrive. They’d been building Cas’s ideal blanket fort for the past twenty minutes, and Dean’s back was starting to hurt.
“I think it looks good as-is, Cas. Nice supports, good walls, cushy floor… Do we really need anything else?”
Castiel frowned, looking down at the knot he’d finished tying. The fort did look rather nice, and he was proud of the point he’d managed to get in the center using the broom. Sure, he could make it even better with an extra twenty minutes or so, but he could feel Dean’s patience beginning to thin. The man never could wait when he was expecting something. “I suppose not. Did you make the popcorn?”
“Who do you think I am? Sammy? Of course I made the popcorn,” he scoffed, slipping in the usual jab at his nutritionally-minded brother. Sam wasn’t in the room to hear it, but it was the thought that counted. “What movie are we watching, anyway?”
“The Outsiders. Jody mentioned it when I called her last, and the misguided teenagers seem interesting.”
That was a surprising one. Dean’s brows raised as he watched Cas pop the CD into the player. The light from the TV lit up the fort they’d built around it, displaying a 60’s-esque title screen. “Huh. Never took you for a Macchio guy.”
And there was Cas’s confused little head-tilt, letting Dean know the name-drop had gone over his head. It was adorable, how the angel always had his thoughts on display. “A what?”
“He’s a guy in the movie, Ralph Macchio. Ya know, from— Ah, forget it. You’ll see.”
Once Castiel had settled down and Dean’s head was resting comfortably on his partner’s chest, they started the movie. It was pretty good, all things considered. Cas had a good number of questions about the slang used in the film, but it was kinda cute to Dean. He liked Cas’s curiosity surrounding the human world.
Then they got to the scene.
“Why would they do that?”
“Hmm?” Dean hummed, tilting his head up to meet the angel’s gaze. They were getting into the emotional section of the movie, so he hadn’t been expecting another question. “Do what? Smoke? Thought I told you—”
“No, the tickling. I thought you said it was annoying, stupid, and reserved for girly pillow fights,” Castiel quoted, doing his best Dean impression to further deliver his point. “Why would they wake him up with it?”
“Because it works,” he shrugged, popping a fluffy kernel into his mouth. That wasn’t the question he’d expected, but it was easy enough to answer. “Used to use it on Sam when he was little. Dad wanted us outside by a certain time, and I got tired of shaking ‘im every five minutes.”
Cas hummed at that, moving to give Dean’s scalp some gentle scratches. It was an unspoken rule between them: every answer warranted some payment. Dean’s favorite currency was often affection. “Okay.”
That was the ticket. Happy, contented noises left Dean’s mouth as he relaxed into the touch, allowing himself to feel a little mushy. Hunting his whole life, always on edge, never knowing when he’d bite the ultimate bullet—he’d earned some sappy affection, damn it.
As the minutes ticked on, Dean’s head began to loll against his partner’s chest. The head scratches were putting him to sleep, and he was too comfortable to fight it. The movie was about done, so he wasn’t too worried about more questions. He was so close to dozing off…
…until five strong fingers started gently prodding his side.
“Pfffh— hey! C-Cas?” Dean yelped, clumsily jolting away from the angel. He was groggy, so all he really accomplished was a flail.
Castiel simply smiled down at him, shrugging. “You were falling asleep. The film hasn’t ended yet.”
“That doesn’t mean you—” Dean stopped short, his voice catching in his throat. By his own logic, Cas was fully within reason to poke him. Damn it… “Whatever.”
The moment Dean allowed himself to relax again, however, Castiel’s evil fingers returned to his side, this time purposely squeezing. And it wasn’t just one, either; Cas gripped the poor man’s side, wiggling his fingers into the skin the same way he’d observed Sam doing it a few weeks prior.
“GYAHAhahad dahahmn ihit, Cahas!”
Dean couldn’t hold back the giggles that time. They spilled past his lips, much more high-pitched than he would’ve liked. His cheeks immediately began to burn with flustered embarrassment. “Quihihihit!”
“But it’s rather effective. You can’t sleep if you’re laughing, and I can feel your heart racing. You’re having fun.”
“Nohoho I’m nohohot, youhuhu bihihitch!”
Lie. Dean was, unfortunately, having fun. Castiel had been getting better at showing affection and having casual fun, but he rarely ever gave himself over to mischief like he had in that moment. It left Dean giddy and excited and, when paired with the tickling, completely at a loss. His brain reverted to factory settings: curse and avoid admitting to anything.
Castiel sighed, very aware of his human’s lies. He could always go digging around in Dean’s brain pan for the real truth, but that was unnecessary; he could easily tell that Dean was enjoying himself. Also, using his angelic abilities to force the truth out of his boyfriend might not have been the best move for keeping the man’s trust.
“You know I won’t judge you for your preferences, Dean. I was once naked and covered in bees, yet you still accepted me as your partner. It’s only fair that I extend that same courtesy.”
The memory of that specific mental image made Dean laugh a bit harder through his giggles, if only for a second. Even when he was being a prick, Cas found a way to be adorable.
“S-stihihill wihish I cohohould’a seheheen thahat ohohone,” Dean grinned, hoping the trip down memory lane would distract Cas enough for him to twist away. It was not, unfortunately, leaving Dean just as trapped as he was before.
“I wasn’t myself during that time. I don’t remember everything, but I do remember how displeased Meg was when she found me with the bees. She refused to come near me until they’d left. I had so much honey, but she wouldn’t try any.”
That thought got a snort out of the man. It was quick and punchy, though Castiel’s head whipped up when he heard it. Oh, god, no…
“That was a new sound. I’d like to hear it again, Dean.”
Dean lost it as Castiel dug into the pudge beneath his navel, back arching against him. He writhed and kicked against that stupid trench coat, but he simply couldn’t escape from the angel’s strong hold. It made him feel both embarrassingly weak and comfortingly vulnerable. He…wasn’t quite sure how to process the two of those emotional cocktails blending together.
And, because of course he did, Cas got his wish.
“*snort* DAHAHAMN IHIHIT!” Dean cackled, his socked foot kicking at the floor. He felt so childish in that moment, cheeks burning hotter than they ever had before. It was awful, but also strangely freeing. “GEHEHET OHOHOFF!”
“But you always tell me to touch you when we’re alone,” Cas frowned, feigning confusion as he continued to torment that poor bit of pudge. Yes, he did get confused sometimes, but both of them knew exactly what he was doing in that moment.
“THAHAT’S DIHIHIFFEREHENT!”
There was still a way to up the fun for both of them. Wedging his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, Cas began nuzzling his stubble against the sensitive skin. He’d long since discovered the sensitivity of Dean’s neck; he was choosing that moment to exploit it.
Dean’s mind simply short-circuited, overwhelmed by all the sensations and emotions the playful moment had sparked within him. He flopped back against his angelic boyfriend, squirming fruitlessly as he succumbed to his fate.
“IHIHIHI— *snort* THIHIHIS SUHUHUCKS!”
How could one human man melt his heart so thoroughly? Cas felt his cheeks warm after that adorable statement, a buzzing sensation shooting through his chest. He was…giddy. It was a bit odd to feel such a uniquely human emotion after regaining his grace so long ago, but there it was. He was in love, and that love—as the humans said—had little butterflies swarming in his chest. It was nice.
His human had a limit, however, and Castiel could tell the man was reaching it. He begrudgingly stopped his tickling, switching to gentle massaging of Dean’s sides. That gesture was appreciated, though the poor hunter couldn’t stop giggling.
His partner could use some comfort, he decided. Leaning down, Castiel pressed loving little kisses to Dean’s forehead. Dean man tried to shove his head away, but that was quickly stopped by two strong hands around his wrists. All four hands were brought to rest over Dean’s heart, feeling it pound against them.
“Youhuhu… ahare the ahahabsoluhute worst bohoyfriend ehehever!” Dean huffed, wriggling around to bury his face in Cas’s chest. The angel was insufferably warm, and he wanted to hide his face. “Ihi hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” the angel grinned, pressing one last handful of kisses to the top of his head before pulling the man down to lie with him. The blanket fort was somehow still standing after their mischief, making for a perfect nap-spot.
Castiel pulled the man closer, cradling him against his chest. His heartrate was beginning to slow, and he could tell Dean was close to dozing off. It was slightly astonishing to Cas that his mere presence could put Dean so at ease. “I love you, Dean.”
“Whatever,” Dean huffed. He was rather worn-out after all the tickling, and a nap sounded heavenly. Setting aside his pride for a moment, he slumped, nuzzling his face against Cas’s chest. Warm, familiar, and comfy…
Damn it, the angel was gonna drive him soft before too long. His whole “badass playboy” reputation didn’t stand a chance around a being of such pure loyalty and unapologetic adoration. His heart belonged to Castiel, wholly and truly. “Love you too, birdie. Now shut up and let me sleep.”
Just realized I never made a masterlist for these, so here we go! Thank you to everyone who requested; I had a lot of fun this year!
Day 1 - lee!Mateo, ler!Gender Neutral Reader
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: Mateo is showing some of he and Davi’s trick routine to you. Turns out, you have a trick of your own you had worked on with him. After the mischievous outcome, Mateo decides on some rather evil revenge.
Day 2 - lee!Ekko, ler!Powder (Alternate Timeline)
Fandom = Arcane: League of Legends
Summary: Ekko is stressed and tired from working on the tedious mechanisms of the Z-Drive. Powder walks in on a particularly tense moment and decides to help him relax.
Day 4 - switches!Luca, Alberto
Fandom = Luca
Summary: Home alone, the boys decide to play a game of Truth or Dare. Luca finds a fun challenge to gain a point, but Alberto is rather talented at turning the tables.
Day 5 - lee!Gender Neutral Reader, ler!Hector
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: You’re burnt out from projects and wallowing in your misery. Lucky for you, Hector knows just how to boost your spirits.
Day 6 - lee!Gender Neutral Reader, ler!Betty
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: You had a bad day, and Betty offers to make it better. However, her methods are a tad bit…unorthodox.
Day 9 - lee!Volt, ler!Eddie
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: Eddie has been pushing the limits of his new stability, and Volt has had enough. He offers the man a new way to relax, and Eddie… Well, he has some fun with things.
Day 10 - lee!Starscream, ler!Shockwave
Fandom = Transformers One
Summary: After damaging his wings in a Quintesson attack, Starscream is in need of repair. Shockwave is able to service him, though a different problem quickly arises for the bots.
Day 14 - lee!Gender Neutral Reader, ler!Nightmare
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: After attempting to pull another coffee-fueled all-nighter, you doze off at your desk. Nightmare awaits you in your dreams, though she has a new form of unease for you to explore in the night. A rather pleasant one, at that.
Day 16 - lee!Mac, ler!Gender Neutral Reader
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: You and Mac are cuddling on the couch; to Roni, it seems like the perfect time to jump in. Unfortunately for Mac, the little mouse goes under their shirt. Instead of helping them out, you decide to be an antagonistic little shit.
Day 19 - switches!Luca, Alberto
Fandom = Luca
Summary: On the way to Luca’s house, Alberto decides to play a bit unfairly with a game. Luca is understandably annoyed and tries to get justice, though things don’t exactly go as planned.
Day 20 - switches!Parker, Chance
Fandom = Date Everything!
Summary: After a rather annoying series of Uno corrections, Chance has had enough of Parker’s smug mouth. He gets his revenge, though two can play a game of such silly sorts.
Day 21 - switches!Hiccup, Dagur, Gender Neutral Reader
Fandom = How to Train Your Dragon: Race to the Edge
Summary: You finally beat Hiccup in a dragon race, and Dagur is quick to celebrate. A misplaced hand quickly leads to a fun new discovery, followed by your three’s group descent into giggly chaos for the evening.
Day 22 - lee!Noel, ler!Ocean
Fandom = Ride The Cyclone
Summary: Noel tells Ocean a lie, and the girl is determined to make him admit it. After a less-than-necessary barb from Noel, she deciedes to employ a unique method of getting to the truth.
Day 24 - lee!Richie, ler!Max
Fandom = Nerdy Prudes Must Die
Summary: Richie makes the grave mistake of bumping into Max, which leads to him pinned down on the football field. Before Max can pummel him, however, the jock makes a rather interesting discovery.
Day 25 - lee!Charlie, ler!Barley
Fandom = Onward (plus Pocky's OC)
Summary: While running a QoY session, Barley notices his girlfriend feeling down about her low roles. Luckily for Charlie, the elf boy has some special remedies for that disappointment.
Day 28 - lee!Hobie, ler!Miles
Fandom = Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
Summary: Miles was gifted a set of body markers; of course, the first thing he does is draw on his partners in crime-fighting. When the opportunity for causing tickly mischief arises, both Miles and Gwen jump at the bit. Unfortunately for them, their actions have consequences.
Day 29 - lee!Amity, ler!Willow
Fandom = The Owl House
Summary: Amity’s in a lee mood, all her usual helpers not around to aid her. Luckily, Willow is there to lend a couple helping hands. Or rather, helping vines…
Day 30 - lee!Snotlout, ler!Astrid
Fandom = How to Train Your Dragon: Race to the Edge
Summary: While training Snotlout with a baby dragon, Astrid learns a new fact about her mouthy friend. Of course, he decides to get snarky with her. She has the perfect way to teach him a lesson.
Squealing Santa 2025 - Gift for chaoticandticklish
~YESSS, another active appreciator of this pair! I love these two, and I really enjoyed writing this fic. Hopefully you've had a great holiday season so far, and that you like your gift. And, as always, a very special thank-you to @squealing-santa and @cantsaythetword for hosting! Enjoy!~
Lee: Dean
Ler: Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: Dean injured himself on a hunt, and Cass offers a way to help him relax. The following massage leads to some rather intriguing discoveries for the both of them, whether they want to acknowledge them or not.
Warnings: canon-typical language. This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
“Damn it…”
Dean groaned as he rubbed his neck, trying to work out the eternal knots tormenting him. He was used to being tense, but he wasn’t used to his shoulders screaming with every slight movement.
They’d been hunting a shifter two days prior in Oklahoma. The thing had swung out of a window, and—because of course he did—Dean had followed.
That shit hurt.
Once the adrenaline had worn off, Dean was left with the pain of healing muscle tears and Sam’s annoyingly valid lectures.
The taller man had gone out on a supply run, leaving him to wallow in his misery. Since he was alone, Dean felt no need to quiet any of the (slightly dramatic) pained noises he was making.
“I hate shifters,” he sighed, placing the microwaved bag of peas on his left shoulder. He really should’ve asked Sam to pick up a hot pack, but that required admitting he was wrong to his brother.
He’d rather die again.
Unfortunately for Dean, Castiel hadn’t left the bunker with Sam like he'd thought. He’d simply been in his room for the morning.
While wandering through the bunker, Cass caught the sound of Dean’s less-than-quiet complaints, lingering outside of his door for a moment.
“Are you alright, Dean?”
The hunter jumped, wincing as he reached for his gun on instinct. The look on his face was almost comical when he realized who was in the doorway. “Damn, Cass, you ever learn to knock?”
“The door was open. Knocking on air wouldn’t have made a noise, and you would’ve been just as shocked.”
“That’s not—” Dean sighed, running a hand down his face: there was no point in arguing. He didn’t feel like spending ten minutes breaking down the concept of knocking on the door frame. “Whatever. Did you need something?”
“No, but I heard that you were in pain. I wanted to see if I could help,” he said, taking a few steps closer to the bed. Castiel could see that little vein in Dean’s neck throbbing, betraying the pain he was in.
“Oh. Uh…yeah. Screwed up my shoulders on that shifter hunt,” Dean shrugged. “I think I pulled a few things. Got the bastard, though.”
Castiel furrowed his brows at that, reaching a hand out to heal him immediately. Dean shrugged it off, shooting the angel a glare. “Don’t waste your mojo on that, Cass. You need your strength for other stuff.”
“Other stuff…” he mumbled, tilting his head for a moment. Once he’d processed Dean’s stubborn refusal, an idea popped into his head. “What if I helped via non-angelic means?”
Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that, his sour mood fading with the little head-tilt. It was one of his favorite Cass-isms to observe. “Via? Who says that in casual conversation?”
“I do. Just now, actually.”
Dork.
“Okay, fine. What non-magical means you got, Cass?” Dead huffed, not even trying to suppress the grin tugging at his lips. There was no point around the angel; fondness was a key part of most of their interactions.
“Is it alright for me to touch you, Dean?”
The hunter choked on air at that, wincing when the motion tugged on his sore muscles. That was not what he expected the angel to say. “Uh…why?”
“Trust me. I’ve learned quite a few medicinal techniques since the fall,” he preened, subtly smiling to himself. Cass completely missed the insinuations of his previous words, instead proud of his ability to help Dean and his brother.
Castiel’s little grin was infectious, making Dean huff and shake his head. That man was impossible to deny when he was happy. “Have at it, man.”
With a pleased hum, Cass climbed onto the bed behind Dean, gently placing his hands on the hunter’s shoulders. Slowly, he pressed his thumbs into the tense muscles, squeezing with just enough pressure to begin working out the tension.
Dean groaned, letting his head slump forwards. He hadn’t been expecting a massage, but damn, that felt good.
“I’ll take that as a positive response,” Castiel grinned, letting his hands drift outwards. He palmed the muscles around Dean’s shoulder sockets, squeezing and rubbing. If Dean winced, he’d soften his touch, prod a bit deeper to help relieve the pain.
Dean was in pure bliss, letting his happy sounds out freely. Castiel was surprisingly good at massaging, and it had been a long time since he’d relaxed enough to feel as loose as he did in that moment.
Cass had finished his work around the sockets after a few minutes. His hands traveled in, beginning to work the softer skin around the base of Dean’s neck. Feeling the difference, he lightened his approach, gently stroking along the muscles to try and locate knots. He’d expected a sigh or two, maybe a curse.
What he hadn’t expected, however, was for Dean to jerk away, the hunter’s hands flying up to his neck.
Castiel’s concern was immediate, his brows fully furrowing as he leaned forward. His expression was akin to that of a guilty puppy. “Dean? Did I hurt you?”
One of Dean’s hands flew up to cover his face, the other shoving Cass away. He muttered something behind them, though it was nearly indecipherable. The angel managed to make out a “fine” and “fuck off” from the slurred mumbles.
“I meant no harm, I swear,” Cass insisted, trying to place a glowing hand upon Dean’s neck. He looked so guilty, those pinched brows and slightly pouting lips.
Dean groaned, shoving the healing hand away once again. “Damn it, Cass, you didn’t hurt me. Knock it off.”
“Then why did you flinch? You never flinch unless you’re hurt.”
It was almost painful, how much Castiel cared for him. Another groan escaped the man when he realized he’d have to explain the truth; he couldn’t take seeing Cass look so guilty.
“It just…it tickled, okay? No harm done. Now quit lookin’ at me like that.”
“Tickled?” he puzzled, his famous head-tilt once again on display. Cass knew of the concept, of course; he’d seen a few glimpses of tickle fights between Jimmy and his daughter through his vessel’s memories. He simply hadn’t expected Dean to be sensitive to them.
Not even Castiel’s little idiosyncrasy could ease Dean’s embarrassment. He was a hunter, damn it. He shouldn't be ticklish, shouldn’t have such a childish weakness. “Yes, now drop it.”
Cass blinked a few times, processing the information: Dean was ticklish, obviously embarrassed about it, and feeling down after the shifter hunt. The angel saw a golden opportunity to perk him up.
With a hint of a mischievous grin, Castiel leaned back in, fluttering his fingers along the sides of Dean’s neck.
“MMmph— hehey! Cass, gehet off!” Dean snickered, trying to run. The angel stopped him, of course, wrapping an arm around his chest and pulling him back. Dean was trapped against the other man, and he knew what fate lied ahead of him.
“C-Cahass, I swear, if you don’t— Dahamn ihihit, Cahahass!”
Dean’s cheeks burned as Castiel’s fingers gently fluttered across his neck. The tickles were killing him, soft in the most torturous way. He hadn’t been truly tickled in…well, decades. Sure, he and Sam gave each other an offhand poke here and there, but nothing like what Cass was doing.
“Fascinating. I never would have thought you’d be this ticklish,” Cass mused, his grin growing by the second. Human nature had always charmed him, especially their quirks. As far as he knew, angels’ true forms didn’t share that nervous response with them. In his vessel…well, Cass simply didn’t know. He’d have to experiment at some point…
“Shuhut uhuhup!”
Right. Daydreaming could wait—he had a Dean to attend to.
“You should really relax more, Dean. Your muscles wouldn’t ache this severely if you took care of yourself.”
Castiel paired that statement with a few experimental pokes to Dean’s sides. He was delighted to hear the yelps of ticklish surprise from the man.
“C-COHOME OHOHOHON!”
That particular statement reminded Castiel of one of the only times he’d seen Sam come close to tickling Dean. It was just a few pokes, but the added element of a condition seemed to really get to the man.
“How about this: you promise to rest properly over the next few days, and I stop.”
“THIHIHIS IHIS BUHUHULLSHIHIT!” Dean whined, hating how unthreatening the statement sounded through his laughter. Cass was being a massive dick by taking a page out of Sam’s book, even if he did have a point.
Of course he was protesting. The mighty Dean Winchester would never agree to taking care of himself without proper convincing. But—luckily for Cass—he’d found the perfect method of convincing him.
“N-noho, nohOHOHOHO! YOUHU AHAHASS!”
Ignoring the insult, Castiel continued to tease the small bit of pudge beneath Dean’s navel. It was the place where his muscles gave way to soft, vulnerable flesh, making it the perfect death spot. The angel was catching on to human patterns rather well by that point.
“It truly isn’t that difficult, Dean. All you need to do is promise that you’ll rest your shoulders. Sam and I can handle missions until you’ve properly recovered,” Cass repeated, clawing his fingers into the pudge like he’d seen Sam do in the past. It had an immediate effect, almost startling the angel.
“SHIHIT! YOUHU *snort* DAHAMN IHIHIT!”
Dean was, to put it simply, losing his shit. It tickled so badly; his mind was reeling from both the unexpected intensity of the ticklishness and the bold touch on such a sensitive spot on his body. His face was burning, his nerves were shot, and honestly?
It was kind of nice. Laughing freely, feeling light and giddy, completely unable to worry about all of the catastrophes the world loved to throw at them: he was totally in the moment. Dean didn’t really think that was a possibility for him outside of sex, but there he was. It was fuckin’ weird to think about, yes, but it was nice.
Yet, as nice as it was, Dean simply could not handle being tickled like that for much longer.
“F-FIHIHINE, FIHINE! IHI PROHOHOMIHISE!”
An angel of his word, Castiel stopped the tickling immediately. He left his hands on Dean for just a few moments, slipping in a bit of healing so his sides wouldn’t be sore from laughter. With how disheveled Dean was, Cass doubted he’d notice.
Dean huffed, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He knew his hair was a mess from all the squirming, and he could still feel the heat behind his cheeks. “Uhuhugh, you bihitch…”
“You know you need the rest, Dean. Now, sleep. I can feel that you’re tired.”
“Yeheah, no shit, Cass,” he grumbled, rubbing his sides. He didn’t really need to—they weren’t sore, after all—but it was a bit comforting. “Get outta my room, asshole.”
Castiel smiled softly, heading for the door. He’d pushed his luck rather far that afternoon, and Dean could use the rest. “Alright. Sleep well, Dean. I’ll wake you when Sam returns.”
“Yeah, whatever. Out.”
Once the angel was gone and his door was shut, Dean allowed himself to melt. A small, confused smile settled on his face as he bit his lip and thought about the past twenty-ish minutes. He and Cass had definitely grown closer over the years, but that? The happiness he felt, the comfort around Cass, the trust he had, the safety in it all: that was…
Notes: I am wishing a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to @gaybananabread! I was your secret santa for Squealing Santa this year, and I had such a blast writing this! I hope it can live up to any expectations you might have had. I tried to add a wintery vibe to this one to fit into the Christmas season. Thanks so much to @squealing-santa for hosting!
Summary: Castiel is cold and Dean is ticklish. Shenanigans ensue.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel (Destiel)
Prompt Used: "The ler is in a touchy mood, and their lee becomes the victim of a cuddle session gone tickly."
Word Count: 2.4k
It was cold out. Unbearably cold. Unfairly cold. Cold to such an extent that even the curtains seemed to shy away from the windows, ruffling and curling at the edges to avoid the cold breeze beating against the glass. Thus, it was only natural that on such a cold day, Castiel happened to be cold himself and searching for warmth the only way he knew how to—through his boyfriend’s body.
“Ugh, do you have to do that right now, Cas?” Dean shifted as Castiel wrapped his arms around the other. He had wedged himself behind the other on the couch, so Dean was forced to the edge of the cushion, Castiel’s legs curling around his shins so that he stayed secured. Dean hissed when Castiel’s hands burrowed their way under his shirt, resting against his bare stomach. “I’m trying to get some work done.”
Others might have been offended by the apparent rejection, but Castiel didn’t mind. He could hear the gentle undertones beneath Dean’s gruffness, the way he didn’t bother to move away from the other at all but allowed Castiel to press his forehead against the dip between Dean’s shoulder blades. He had learned early on while dating the other that Dean was a complainer. He needed to rage and bicker and bluster for a moment, but it rarely revealed some true feeling on his part. Castiel theorized that it was a natural defense born from years of abandonment. Sam theorized it was because he was an asshole.
So Castiel did not budge, and Dean merely sighed and turned back to his computer, delving back into his research. There was possibly a case with a ghost haunting a young woman’s apartment, though as Dean got to know the situation more clearly, he was beginning to suspect the early stages of grief instead. The only reason he was still tolerating it was because Sam was clearly getting along with their client with a romantic charm he didn’t usually exhibit, and Dean didn’t want to squash that for him.
Sam was out at the moment picking up more supplies, so it was just Dean and Castiel for the moment. Snow had started to flurry down and Castiel watched it speculatively as it swirled lazily towards the ground. Now that he was spending more time merely existing on Earth, he was learning to appreciate these simple things he had always taken for granted. It was true that humans suffered to an extent that Castiel never truly envied them enough to regret his own angelic form, but he had to admit that there was quite a bit of beauty in their everyday lives that almost made it worth it.
A yelp drew him from his thoughts, and he blinked. Dean’s elbows had darted in, momentarily trapping his hands. He let go now, though it seemed rather reluctant.
“Your hands are freezing.”
“I know. That’s why I’m using you to warm them up."
Dean rolled his eyes, though a small smile peeked through his annoyed exterior. “Can’t you just find some gloves or something? And why are you even cold anyway? Can’t you shut that off with your angel powers or something?”
“It’s true that angels don’t typically feel normal, human sensations like pain or cold,” Castiel admitted. “But we can also choose to experience them if we like. I often do when I’m around you, as I enjoy being able to feel when you touch me. The cold is worth that.”
Though Castiel could not see it, a gentle flush had covered Dean’s features. “Well,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “Just don’t move your hands too much. I don’t need your icy touch making me just as cold as you.”
Castiel merely hummed, the sound sending pleasant vibrations down Dean’s back.
In fairness to Dean, he did stay still, for a moment. But Dean was warm, and Castiel was unused to the cold that humans so often had to bear and therefore less used to handling it. After a few minutes, his hands began to roam again. Dean grunted but otherwise didn’t comment. Dean’s body must have run on some higher temperature, because everywhere Castiel touched was almost feverishly warm, though he could tell intuitively that Dean wasn’t sick. After having spent so much time around the older Winchester, Castiel had learned to intuit certain things about his body, aided in his perceptions by his angelic powers that other humans close to him might not have. He could tell when Dean was sick or healthy, worried or joyful, in pain or experiencing pleasure, and the general overall temperament of his body—sometimes before even Dean himself knew. Right now, he could tell Dean was blushing, which Castiel might have teased him about, but he knew it would only make the other self-conscious.
Eventually the mere touch of his skin wasn’t enough, and Castiel’s hands moved higher towards the warmer pockets underneath his arms. Dean’s breath hitched and his elbows darted in once more, though it was clear he was attempting to be subtle about it this time.
Dean was ticklish. It was a fact that had become apparent quickly within their relationship and one that Castiel had done his best not to acknowledge. Though Castiel couldn’t imagine why, Dean seemed especially embarrassed about the sensitivity, and so he made a point not to say anything when Dean would squirm when Cas kissed his neck or bite his lip when the angel’s touch became too gentle.
He could also tell that Dean desperately wanted to be tickled, but as Castiel was not sure how to reconcile these two desires, he usually left the hunter alone.
Today, though, he was in a cuddly mood and Dean was warm and distracted and the opportunity was too good to pass up. He had never really tickled Dean in earnest, and he had to admit he was curious what would happen if he did.
With his fingers still stuck under Dean’s arms, Castiel began to drum his fingers slightly, something that could easily be written off as an idle action. Dean twitched, the muscles in his arms tightening. Castiel pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck, placing deliberately gentle kisses over the spot in a manner that sent goosebumps scattering out from his lips.
“You’re awfully touchy today,” Dean remarked in what he clearly hoped was a casual tone. Castiel smiled. He could hear the hitch in his voice, the tense set to his shoulders.
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” Dean said slowly. “I guess not. It’s just unusual, is all I was saying.”
“I missed you,” was all Castiel said in response, which certainly wasn’t untrue. It had been about a week since the two had last seen each other. He had a feeling the time had passed faster for himself, as time did not move in the same manner for angels, but any time that went by without Dean was far from ideal.
Castiel continued his drumming, but this time dug his fingers in more under the guise of adjusting his position. Dean exhaled sharply, choking back a sound that might have been a laugh, though it was hard to tell.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“I hope I’m not distracting you.” Fingers scuttling a tad lower.
He could sense the smile growing on Dean’s face, see the way his shoulders shook, how he had stopped typing anything a while ago. “You’re not,” he said gruffly, each word exiting him with careful control.
Castiel snorted, not believing him in the slightest. He continued his game for a few minutes more, allowing his hands to roam over Dean’s body in much too light a manner for the latter’s liking. Castiel was sure that Dean had caught on to his game if only because he was doing a much better job of hiding his reactions than before. He had given up on even trying to look busy, instead conserving all of his efforts towards holding still and keeping quiet. It was possible he could have kept up the front for a while, and Castiel didn’t want to run out of time before Sam got home; there was no way that Dean would enjoy having this particular weakness exploited in front of his brother.
With a somewhat ironic devilish grin, Castiel dug in at last, wiggling his fingers quickly over Dean’s sides.
Dean jolted forward with a sharp burst of laughter, his arms jerking back to block Castiel’s hands to no avail. The angel was quicker and moved to drilling into his ribs instead, which had proper laughter flowing out of Dean. “C-Cas! Whahahat the fuhuhuck, c-cut it out!”
“I didn’t realize you were ticklish, Dean. You should have told me—secrets aren’t good for a relationship."
“I’m nohohot!”
“You seem pretty ticklish from where I’m standing.”
There was a choked curse in reply as Dean arched backwards, sliding down slightly in Castiel’s lap as he squirmed.
It was everything he had hoped it would be and more. Though it was not particularly hard to read Dean, the truth was usually veiled through a gruff exterior that he refused to let drop, even around Cas. Now, Dean had no hope of hiding his true feelings. As such, Castiel took his time observing his boyfriend in each and every facet of this rare moment. His grin was stretched so wide that his cheeks pressed up into his eyes which were scrunched shut, wrinkles forming at the corners. There was a hearty flush that was not contained merely to his cheeks but spread across his entire face and lit up his neck bright red with a flustered pleasure. He was doing very little to stop Castiel as well, his hands instead strangling the cushions besides him in a death grip as his elbows helplessly darted into his sides.
He was struggling to hold himself up as his body clearly longed to collapse entirely and slide off of the couch and away from Castiel’s devious fingers, which were currently pinching a path up Dean’s sides that was driving him crazy. His legs were poised and bent, occasionally slamming into the ground when Cas got a good spot. And the best part, the part that Castiel could not notice without a flutter of joy, was how the more everything tickled, the more Dean pressed himself back against Cas—into the tickling. It was terribly obvious and Castiel wasn’t sure even Dean himself was aware he was doing it.
Castiel wasn’t sure he had observed Dean in a more breathtaking form than at this moment.
Dean was bellowing out curses and protests, but it hardly mattered because after the first initial ‘cut it out’, Dean hadn’t requested for the tickling to stop once. He had called Castiel an asshole a few times, let out several errant ‘fuck’s, but had not made an actual appeal for the activity to end. Nor had he once tried to so much as bat Castiel’s hands away.
“I have a theory,” Castiel said, transfixed by the way Dean’s legs kicked out spasmodically when his hips were squeezed. “I’ve been developing it while tickling you.”
“Oh yeheheheah?” Dean paused to burst into a cackling hit. The hips seemed to be a fairly bad spot, and Castiel could tell Dean was struggling a lot more than before not to pry his hands away. “Whahat’s thahahat?”
“I think you like this.”
There was a slight pause, and then Dean let out an indignant noise that was fairly close to a whine. “Fuhuhuhuck ohohohoff!”
“That’s not a denial.”
“I s-swehehear to god, Cas—”
“If you didn’t want me to do this, you would stop me.” Castiel let up on his hips, to which Dean sagged in relief only to startle and hiss when Castiel began fluttering his fingers over his neck instead.
“Cohohohold!”
Castiel cringed. “I am sorry about that.” He concentrated for a moment, slowly regulating his temperature to something much more comfortable. Dean’s eyes widened at the sudden change, but he couldn’t devote too much focus to it. He was too busy giggling over the current assault on his neck. He had slid fully off the couch by now, his arms clasped tightly around himself in a self-hug as he curled forward on the floor. His face was much redder than before, and Castiel had a feeling that he was reaching a limit, even if he did like it. He just had to try one more thing before he let up.
Leaning forward, Castiel placed his lips against the back of Dean’s neck and blew. He was pretty sure humans referred to it as a ‘raspberry’, though he couldn’t fathom why as the action had relatively little in common with the fruit.
Dean shrieked, his head jerking back to try to push him off. “CAHAHAHAS!”
Castiel hummed in satisfaction. “I’ll have to try that one again.”
Before Dean could half-heartedly protest the statement, there was a creak at the door which indicated that Sam had returned from the store. Quickly, Castiel flickered in and out of space, reappearing on the opposite side of the couch, far away from the still flustered Dean. The hunter cleared his throat, quickly clambering to his feet in time for Sam to walk into the room holding several plastic bags along his arms. His brows furrowed slightly as he took in Dean’s flustered state.
“Dean.” He glanced over at Castiel, who was, perhaps unfairly, much better at recuperating than the other and raised a hang in calm greeting. “Cas. Everything good? I thought I heard loud voices when I was outside the door.”
Dean and Sam both noticed that his shirt was still tousled and pulled up from before, and the former quickly jerked it back down in a manner much less casual than he hoped. “Just the TV. Trying to pass the time while you were out. You got the stuff?”
Sam frowned, clearly not believing his story but deciding in that moment that it wasn’t worth investigating. “Yeah. Except the rope. They didn’t have any that would work.”
The two brothers headed into the kitchen to go through supplies, but not before Dean shot Castiel a look on his way out. The look, on the surface, said you’re dead, but Castiel could detect the hesitant eagerness behind it that said what he was really thinking: let’s pick this up later. Castiel decided he would continue enduring the cold for now, if only so he could use Dean to warm himself up later.
I love it! They're both so in-character, I love the soft, playful winter vibe of it all. It feels criminal for me to have taken so long to read this. You're awesome, gift VERY much appreciated!
~Thank you for my fourth commission, Anon! Everyone who has helped out has been so nice, and I'm having fun writing these for all of you. I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Harry
Lers: Ron, Ginny
Summary: Harry decides to push his luck and challenge Ron to a wrestling match. When he inevitably loses, the scarred teen goes a step further and playfully insults his friend's hair. Ginny overhears, and much more tickly chaos ensues.
Warnings: lots of raspberries, more intense tickles. This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!
The yearbook pages crinkled as Harry flipped through them, showing Ron the club photos. He had stolen it from Dudley’s room, and, unsurprisingly, its pages were free of any signatures or notations. The spoiled boy had cast it aside the moment his mother had bought it. Harry knew his cousin wouldn’t miss it.
The scarred teen shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he pointed to the wrestling club photo. “I’m just saying, Ron. I could take you.”
“Uh-huh, sure you could. You weigh, what, 50 kilos soaking wet?” Ron teased, giving his friend’s shoulder a little punch. He was smiling in slight disbelief, knowing Harry was dead wrong.
The two were in The Burrow, talking in Ron’s room. School was on break, and Ron had invited him over to hang out and yap to one another. They had gotten to the topic of the Muggle world, then to things Harry had observed in his schools, and had somehow made it to wrestling. He had obviously never joined the wrestling team—he would have been killed—but he felt that he could probably beat his friend in a match. That, and it was funny to rile Ron, see how far he could push before his friend retaliated.
“Hey, I’m more that that!” he huffed, poking Ron’s side. That was bound to get a reaction itself, but he figured he could add to it with a quip. “I’ve gained weight since I got to Hogwarts, you sod.”
Ron gasped at that little jab, clutching his imaginary pearls. He knew Harry meant no true harm by the words, but he felt like getting into a silly, pointless fight with his friend. “Sod? Oh, you’re done, Potter!”
With a playful roar, the redhead lunged at his friend, using what he’d observed between Fred and George to try and get the upper hand.
Harry was a bit stronger than he expected, but the scarred boy was always better with his wand than his fists. He still gave it his best, laughing as he tumbled with Ron. The small attic room didn’t give them much space, but they managed not to knock their heads off of anything.
It was over within two minutes. Ron had Harry pinned to the floor beneath him, straddling his waist as he grinned down at the boy. “Now, how should I celebrate my victory?”
“Shush! And that hardly counts as a victory,” Harry huffed, squirming in Ron’s hold. He was unfortunately nice and stuck in the other teen’s grip. “You cheated!”
Ron scoffed at that, shaking his head. Seriously? Cheating? It was a no-wands wrestling match, and he had gotten Harry pinned down fair and square. “I— how, Harry? How did I cheat?”
“It’s your room,” Harry reasoned. He didn’t have much of a plan going into the argument; he was simply trying to delay his inevitable consequences for provoking the redhead. “You have an advantage!”
Seriously? How did that even begin to make sense? “I do not!” Ron glared playfully, knowing the argument was ridiculous. Still, he was enjoying the back and forth. “You’re just mad that I’m stronger.”
That wasn’t going to slide. Harry refused to admit that Ron was stronger, even if it was a simple and objective truth. He would rather argue, push a few more of his friend’s buttons while he could. “No you’re not!”
“You—” taking a breath, Ron cut himself off. “Whatever, Potter. Any last words?”
He had distracted Ron from his revenge longer than he thought he would’ve been able to. Might as well dig his hole a bit deeper while he was at it, try to get the last laugh. “B-bite me, you— GYAHAHAHA! R-ROHOHON, NOHOhohot thahat!”
Harry couldn’t even finish his sentence before his shirt was yanked up, Ron’s evil lips descending on his stomach. The raspberries were all sorts of flustering and embarrassing: audibly ridiculous and devilishly ticklish.
The two continued to tumble about. Every time Ron would let the boy go, Harry would foolishly try to jump back at him, and they would begin their dance all over again. And, every single time, Ron would win, pin him back down, and blow raspberries. One would think Harry would learn, but no: he was bored, in a playful mood, and really wanted to see if he could beat Ron.
Eventually, though, he did need a breather. And, with that breather, came a rather bad idea on Harry’s end.
“Sorry, you say something? Couldn’t hear it over me winning,” Ron chuckled, yanking Harry’s arms above his head with one hand. He leaned down once again, blowing another raspberry on the poor boy’s stomach.
“WAHAHAhahahait! Wahait!”
Ron popped his head up, smiling down at his friend. He was calling it quits already? Ron really was good.
“I-Ihihit…” he paused, wondering if the snarky remark would be worth it. Meeting Ron’s gaze, seeing that cocky smirk, he knew what he had to do. “Ihihit’s becahause youhu’re a ginger. Gingers are made for being lihittle shits.”
A gasp from the door made both their heads whip towards the hallway. Ginny had her arms crossed over her chest, a playful scowl on her face. She was originally going to say hi to Harry while he was visiting, but she walked in at the worst possible time for Harry.
The girl knew Harry meant nothing by his playfully statement, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t mess with him. By the looks of it, Ron had found a decently entertaining and effective way of doing so.
“Oh, hey, Ginny,” Ron grinned, waving her over. He took great joy in the way Harry’s eyes immediately widened. “Want to help me with him?”
Ginny nodded, walking in and taking the teen’s wrists in her hands. “I can take his arms.”
“Nohoho!” Harry whined, kicking in their hold. He knew he had messed up, knew he should’ve shut the door when he’d decided to be a nuisance to Ron. The looks on both their faces were absolutely terrifying. He knew his fate, though he still attempted to change it. “I-Ihi dihihidn’t mehehean ihit!”
“Too little, too late,” Ginny sighed, nodding at her brother. She would have her turn bullying him in a moment, but right then, she’d rather tease Harry with her words. Plus, it was kind of fun to watch him smile like that.
Ron chuckled before taking an exaggerated breath, slowly leaning down, and blowing a rather obnoxious raspberry on his friend’s stomach. He was having fun knocking the Boy Who Lived down a peg while also making him laugh. With all the traumas and troubles of the Wizarding World, it was nice to have some silly fun with each other every now and then.
“Such a cute smile,” Ginny grinned, giving his underarms a couple of lazy pokes. The way his ears quickly pinkened let her know the teasing was working. “Everything alright down there, Harry? You’re looking a bit flushed.”
The girl wasn’t wrong. Harry’s face was slowly growing more and more red as the tickling carried on, his ears quickly following suit from the compliments and teases. “Shuhuhut uhup! Ihi— PFAHAHA! Rohohon!”
Harry could hardly get a word in edgewise with Ginny. Every time he would try, Ron would simply blow another raspberry and completely wreck his train of thought. They were being down-right evil, and yet…
Well, it was kind of fun, in a chaotic way. It was nice to have a true laugh with his friends, even if he couldn’t hear himself think over his own boisterous laughter.
After a minute or two of listening to Harry laugh his head off, Ginny tapped her brother’s arm. She had observed Ron’s tactics long enough; it was time for her to have an active hand in all the fun. “Hey, can I have a go?”
“Oh, definitely. Swap you,” Ron nodded, carefully switching places with his sister in a way that wouldn’t let Harry get away. The two boys had placed their wands on Ron’s desk, too, so there was no way he could use any magic to aid in his escape.
“G-guhuhuys! Lehet’s tahalk abouhut thihis!”
“Hmm…no, I’m alright,” Ginny shrugged. She barely gave Harry a moment to process his own doom before she leaned down, blowing yet another raspberry onto the teen’s quivering stomach.
Harry had not expected their change up. Ginny was a bully, too; she skittered her nails up and down his sides before she blew her raspberries, keeping him in a near-constant state of giggly, brainless hysteria.
“Wow, Ginny. You’re cruel,” Ron laughed, shaking his head at his sister’s evil tactics. It was fun to watch Harry loose his marbles from them, though he wanted to make things a bit more entertaining. He gently traced his fingers along the side of Harry’s neck, watching his shoulders scrunch up as far as they could in his position.
Again, a few minutes passed, and Ron tapped Ginny’s arm this time. He saw a way to make things extra enjoyable for the both of them. “Trade?”
“Oh…oh, you little sneak. Absolutely,” Ginny grinned, switching places with her brother once again. They could continue trading back and forth, have fun with their friend until he inevitably tapped out.
“Ohoho my gohohod!” Harry huffed out, shaking his head as he felt the siblings switch again and again and again. At some point, he simply lost track of who was doing what at any given moment. Ron’s nicer touches were lost to Ginny’s teases, their voices blending together in his head. He simply screwed his eyes shut, tossed his head back, and laughed away all his cares.
Despite the absolutely maddening experience, the tickling was fun. He could barely think straight, meaning he couldn’t worry about tomorrow, couldn’t think about their lost friends, couldn’t think about all the hardships that laid ahead of him. All he could do was laugh under his friends, letting the troubles of his difficult life drift off into the background. They would be waiting for him when his redheaded friends stopped, but right then, he was able to simply exist.
“I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t tapped out yet,” mused Ron, who was on his arms for the moment. They had been tickling the hell out of him for around ten, maybe fifteen minutes, yet Harry was still giggling and laughing below them without a single tap to the arm or spoken “stop” in sight. It was almost impressive, in an stupidly dorky way.
“I think he’s having too much fun. Isn’t that right, Harry?” Ginny ribbed, blowing a few smaller raspberries across his stomach. She knew they would need to stop soon, so she was getting in her last few teases while she could. “That’s why he hasn’t told us to stop yet.”
“N-nohoho! *hic* Ihi’m nohohot!” Harry shook his head, little hiccups slipping into his giggly laughter. The scarred boy looked absolutely wrecked beneath them: his face was a bright red, hair a mussed-up, frizzy mess, and his stomach tinted with a lovely pink hue from all the raspberries. His smile was one of pure glee.
Ron clicked his tongue, sucking in a breath. His expression was one of faux-sympathy as he shook his head at Harry. “You don’t wanna lie to Ginny, mate. Just made everything worse for yourself again.”
“Yes, yes he did. Ready for a grand finale, Ron?” Ginny hinted, flicking her eyes to Harry’s exposed underarms. The two were quite good at reading each other’s thoughts, and she knew her brother would knew what to do.
“You bet.”
With one last nod, the siblings struck. Ron gathered Harry’s wrists into one hand, the other snaking down to poke and prod at the scarred teen’s armpits. At the same time, Ginny took a deep breath and pressed her lips to Harry’s stomach, blowing some rather cruel, rather loud raspberries on the boy’s sensitive skin.
To put it simply, Harry lost his mind.
“N-NOHOHOHO!” Harry squealed, kicking weakly at the floor behind Ron. He had lost all semblance of coherent thought, reduced to a giddy, tickle-drunk mess of endorphins beneath his best friend and the boy’s sister, and he couldn’t be happier. It was a bit of a wild thought to digest, but he had it, and it was definitely the right one.
Eventually, Harry simply couldn’t take it any longer. He flapped his hands in Ron’s hold, tapping the redheaded boy’s wrist in surrender. “OHOHOKAHAHAY, OHOKAHAY! NOHO MOHOHORE!”
That was their signal: both siblings immediately stopped their ticklish assaults. Ron released Harry’s arms while Ginny climbed off the boy’s waist, letting him curl up and giggle off the leftover endorphins.
“You alright down there, Harry?” asked Ron. He placed a hand on his friend’s back, rubbing little circles into the bony knots. “Did we go too far?”
“N-nohoho…” Harry huffed, raising his head from his hands. His cheeks were still flushed a bright pink, though he was starting to come back around, catch his breath. “Thohough you twoho are evil.”
Ginny simply grinned at that, plopping down beside Harry on the floor. Her hand threaded through his hair, giving his scalp little scratches. “Why thank you.”
“Bloody hellions,” the boy mumbled, leaning into the touch. They were annoyingly kind after all that cruelty, warming his heart. He unfortunately loved that about them. “Could you at least grab me a blanket and some tea?”
“Fine, you needy git,” Ron huffed, feigning annoyance. He chucked a blanket from his bed at the boy, heading down the stairs to grab some tea for the three of them.
Noticing Harry’s moping, Ginny clicked her tongue. “Oh, don’t be so bitter, Harry. You know you had fun.” A small grin tugged at her lips for a moment, and she added, “Especially when you have such a cute laugh.”
The girl placed a little kiss to the side of his head before getting up, following her brother down the narrow staircase. Harry was left alone with his thoughts, burning cheeks, and a rather pleasant warmth in his chest.
Hmm. I might have to provoke those two more often…
Hey all! Thanks to some interesting medical bills, I'm gonna be opening emergency-ish commissions! This won't impact TickleTober at all, but it is a way to get your fic sooner and specified to what you want!
Become a supporter of Kasey today!
🍌Pricing!🍌
Each ☕Coffee is $2
☕x2 - Tickle Fic (~500 words)
☕x3 - Tickle Fic (1-1.5k words)
☕x4 - Tickle Fic (2-2.5k words)
☕x5+ - Tickle Fic (message me for over 2.5k words)
🍌Here's what to do!🍌
Come up with your fandom, pairing, and scenario!
Direct Message (DM) me on Tumblr with your request for your commission
Buy the according number of Coffees through Kofi
I get writing and message you about the process and your estimated "delivery" date!
I finish the fic & either post it on Tumblr with a message to you or send it to you directly (please specify in your commission request).
I have a more detailed list of instructions on Kofi that explains my boundaries and what to do.
Hey all! I’ve just had a very large, very far-from-the-estimate medical bill come in for my disability. I have to make a $100 payment by the end of the month, and I’m 50 away from that with my paycheck.
So, I’m big-time boosting commissions currently.
All the information is above! I do have simple tips, but I’m willing to work to get the money. Any and all support is greatly appreciated!
omg i can’t believe race to the edge is in your fandom list!! if you’re still taking requests for tickletober, maybe 26 (truth) or 20 (melt) with lee snotlout and ler astrid or hiccup?
TickleTober Day 30: Melt
~Hey! Got your second message and sorted the day numbers out. Finally all done with TickleTober. I did the best I could, though I’m burnt out as all get-out. It was kinda nice to write for Snotlout again; he’s such a goober. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!~
Lee: Snotlout
Ler: Astrid
Summary: While training Snotlout with a baby dragon, Astrid learns a new fact about her mouthy friend. Of course, he decides to get snarky with her. She has the perfect way to teach him a lesson.
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
“Alright, try it again. Gently.”
Snotlout grumbled, trying his best not to roll his eyes as he picked up the terrible terror.
The group had managed to train a small flock of them, and the younglings were visiting the Edge. They were flighty little guys, and Hiccup had the idea to try and run a training exercise with them.
It was Snotlout’s turn to try and tame a baby terrible terror, and it was…certainly going. Astrid was trying to coach him through it, but the man was testing her patience.
“Here, little fella. Have some— OW! Thor!”
Snotlout tried to offer the little dragon a snack, but he forgot to feed it palm-flat. The youngling nipped his fingers, wings flapping in distress at his cry.
“Snotlout, you’re scaring him!” Astrid huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Trying to get Snotlout to be quiet and attentive was like trying to get a dragon to hug an eel. “Just…here.”
With a sigh, Astrid stepped over. She guided the little dragon’s head onto Snotlout’s shoulder, petting it. “Pretend it’s a human baby. Hopefully you’re more careful with those.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he grumbled, mimicking her touch. Sure enough, the scaly little reptile settled down, nuzzling against him. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute.
Churring, the hatchling gently butted the underside of Snotlout’s chin. Once he’d determined it was a soft, warm spot to snuggle against, he started rubbing his head there.
The young viking squeaked at that, jerking his head away. Unfortunately for him, the little dragon followed, seeking the warmth of his neck.
“G-gehet ihit ohohohoff!” he yelped, scrunching his shoulders as high as they’d go.
After her initial shock, Astrid found the entire situation rather amusing. Not only was Snotlout ticklish, but a baby dragon was tickling him? It was all fun to watch.
“Problems?”
He whined at that, trying to pry the hatchling off of himself. “Sh-shuhuhut ihit ahahand hehelp!”
Astrid narrowed her eyes. Shut it? Oh, he was going to pay for that, and thanks to a little dragon, she knew exactly how. “Sure, I can help. Hold still.”
Too busy being “attacked” to notice her tone, Snotlout did his best to hold still. The baby dragon was removed, but a pair of impressively strong arms quickly replaced him. The young viking was on the ground in seconds, his back pressed against Astrid’s front.
“Hey! What the Thor?!”
Snotlout kicked in Astrid’s hold, trying to squirm away. She’d gotten the baby dragon off of him—he watched it fly away just then—but she definitely had ulterior motives.
Astrid shrugged, smiling softly. She’d never hurt the guy wihtout proper reason, but some mischief was more than encouraged. “Teaching you a lesson.”
The moment her nails brushed the underside of his chin, Snotlout knew he was yakked.
“Wahahait!” he whined, his boots kicking up dirt clouds as he struggled. It tickled enough to start melting his brain, but not enough to overwhelm him. “Ahahastrihid!”
“What?” she deadpanned, letting her free hand poke at his side gently. It was a bit odd—despite the kicking, he wasn’t trying very hard to get away.
“Thihihis— youhuhu knohohow whahat!”
Snotlout barely knew how to speak at that moment, trying and failing to get a coherent word in. It tickled, but it also felt weirdly relaxing…comforting? He wasn’t sure how to digest that.
The girl could practically hear the cogs turning in Snoutlout’s head. It was kinda cute, in a bully-your-annoying-younger-brother way. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Not my problem.”
“Youhuhu’re a jeheherk!” he attempted to growl, though it came out as more of a giggly gurgle. He’d given up on squirming away, simply leaning against her and complaining his way through it.
Astrid huffed at the feeling, shaking her head. Snotlout was…actually enjoying the tickles. Sure, he was being a brat, but he was actually relaxing. It was a rare occurrence for him, despite all the one-liners and cocky remarks.
She let it go on like that for a few minutes before stopping, giving Snotlout’s shoulder a little punch. “Get back to your hut before sunset, okay? Heather’s cooking tonight.”
With that, Astrid got up, dusted off her skirt, and started walking out of the forest. She knew he’d be fine getting back on his own in a minute or two.
Snotlout panted on the ground, running a hand down his face. That had been…fun. He hated to think it, but it was fun, and he even wondered if he could somehow get it to happen again. It had felt nice to laugh, and the tickles on his neck were so relaxing. He thought of asking Astrid again, but…
Oh, Thor, how was he ever going to face her again?
With a groan, he got to his feet and trudged back to his hut, fantasizing a fake ID and a new island. A small part of him, however, was brainstorming ideas to provoke the girl into repeating the “lesson” she’d taught him. He was a hands-on learner, after all.
Heya! If you're still taking Tickletober ideas, I have just one for you this time. It's 28 (Drawn On) with ler Miles and lee Hobie. Hobie has a handful of tattoos already despite being so young, and Miles gets the idea to draw something on his back or shoulder or whatever spot you pick.
(Bonus if Gwen also has a drawing on her stomach or arm that she shows to Hobie to convince him, but she purposefully doesn't tell him how bad it's going to tickle. >w<)
-Panda/Black Feathers
TickleTober Day 28: Drawn On
~@hexalianrebel-blackfeathers Hey Panda! Sorry if this is a little lacking, the burnout is DEFINITELY settling in. I did my very best to keep the banter nice in this one, and even added in some lee!Miles for you as a treat. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Lees: Hobie (brief Miles)
Lers: Miles (brief Hobie & Gwen)
Summary: Miles was gifted a set of body markers; of course, the first thing he does is draw on his partners in crime-fighting. When the opportunity for causing tickly mischief arises, both Miles and Gwen jump at the bit. Unfortunately for them, their actions have consequences.
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
“Aaaaand…there!” Miles grinned, capping the silver body marker. “Careful not to rub it for a bit. Metallics take a bit longer to dry.”
Gwen smiled as she checked out her forearm, admiring the new illustration. It was a silver spider that would wash off in a few days, maybe a week.
For his birthday, Miles’s dad had gotten him a set of body markers. The man had given up on trying to get him to kick the Sharpie-doodles habit, so he instead provided a more skin-safe alternative.
“Sick. I think I might actually get this inked later on,” she mused, leaning over to gently bump her forehead against his. It was a means of affection they’d developed, and it was oddly nice.
While they talked about parlors they’d seen around town, a familiarly chaotic orange portal formed in the girl’s room. Hobie came right out, the sound of his boots on her floor alerting the teens of his arrival.
“Hey, Hobie! Come check out Miles’s new toys!”
Miles rolled his eyes, shoving at Gwen’s shoulder. “They’re not toys, they’re—”
“Oi, wha’s all this?”
Hobie’s deep voice cut Miles off, his bag clunking onto the ground as he flopped down next to Miles. His arm instinctively wrapped around the teen’s shoulders, his head resting upon one. “Got some new tools or some’in?”
“They’re body markers, gift from my dad. They go on super smooth, and they stay on your skin for, like, a week,” he explained, placing a dot of silver on the back of his hand. It was surprisingly pigmented against his darker skin, showing up even some of his paints in its opacity.
Hobie nodded, snapping his fingers in recognition. He’d seen some people in his dimension messing with those for riots or concerts. “Ooh, those tattoo pens. Yeah, they seem pre’y sick.”
“Oh, they are. Look at what he drew for me!” Gwen beamed, showing off her new spider “tattoo.”
“Ey, tha’s kinda like the one I’ve got on my stomach.”
With a grin, Hobie lifted his shirt up to display the tattoos there. There were a couple stick-and-pokes, but the spider one was definitely done with a tattoo gun. The other two gaped, each getting the same mischievous idea as they viewed his bare stomach.
“Dang…did one of your friends do that?” Miles asked, trying to seem nonchalant. He was attempting to get better at smoothness.
“Yeah, got it done at a show. One of my mates brough’ their gun and did it for me backstage. She’s got ‘er own shop now.”
Miles nodded, biting back a grin. Stay focused, Morales… “Mind if I add one?”
That got a little chuckle out of Hobie. Miles had doodled on his hands plenty of times, but having the other teen give him something that’d last a few weeks was a rather tempting concept. “Al’ight, why not? Pick yer poison, an’ surprise me.”
Hobie slipped his shirt off, giving Miles free reign of his warm, dark skin. He cheekily tossed his shirt at Gwen’s face, snickering at the squawk she let out when it hit her.
Miles decided on the boy’s ink-free shoulder, knowing it would tickle enough for his plan to work without being too much. Shooting Gwen a smile behind Hobie’s back, the artist got to drawing.
Immediately, Hobie realized what the pair was up to. The cool, soft tip of the marker brushed gently against his skin, making the punk bite his lip. It tickled, sending the familiar little buzzes down his spine and up to the base of his neck. “Y-youhu lil’ shits…”
“What? Somethin’ wrong, Hobs?” the boy grinned, purposefully shading in a way he knew would tickle. He was drawing a spider on a web—he wanted to stay on-brand, after all—and he knew all those little lines would tickle like hell.
“Think he’s a little ticklish,” Gwen teased. She was perched on the couch, rocking back and forth as she watched the playful bullying unfold. She wouldn’t join in for fear of her ink rubbing off, but she was more than happy to play the peanut gallery.
“Yeher dead, Gwehehenny,” he grumbled, though it was a bit hard to take him seriously when he was giggling like that. After the initial dam broke, Hobie gave up on staying quiet. He knew the two were getting a kick out of his “suffering,” and it honestly didn’t feel that bad.
Gwen stuck her tongue out at the tattooed teen, snorting when Miles skittered his fingers up his side. It was funny to watch Hobie jerk in surprise, especially when his cheeks heated.
“Mihihiles, wahatch ihihi’ nohow…” Hobie warned, his tone slightly warmer than it had been with Gwen. He bullied her all the time, but it took a bit more for Miles to earn sassy-Hobie speak.
He snickered, going back to carefully shading the spider’s abdomen. It wasn’t any less ticklish, but he was focusing less on being a shithead and more on making the drawing look good.
Hobie tried to hold still, though he was beginning to regret removing his shirt. He was getting little chills, and the coolness of the room was making every sensation that much more intense. “Huhuhurry ihi’ uhuhup bahahack thehehere.”
“You can’t rush art, Hobie,” Miles huffed, shaking his head. Just to be a goober, he gave the right side of Hobie’s ribcage a quick scribble. Sure, it was overkill, but he was having too much fun to think his actions through before taking them.
“GYAHahahehey! Youhu—thaha’s IT!”
Hobie whirled around, grabbing Miles’s arms faster than either of the teens could’ve expected. Gwen gulped as the doodler was pinned to the floor of her living room, his face split by a wide, nervous grin. “W-wahahait, wait! Ihi’m sorry!”
“No you ain’t, ya li’l shit,” Hobie chuckled, digging into his stomach. He knew the boy well enough to not believe that blatant lie; Miles was only sorry he got caught.
Miles squealed, kicking against the ground as he tried to get away. It was a fruitless effort, but his reflexes forced him to try. He’d always been a squirmer when tickled, no matter how badly he might’ve wanted to stay still.
With a blush on her face, Gwen tried to slip away. Hobie caught her out of the corner of his eye, giving her a look. He was still tickling Miles when he said, “You try an’ hide, an’ I’ll make it twice as bad on you. Help with ‘im, an’ you’ll get cuddles.”
He knew how to speak her language. With a semi-apologetic grin, Gwen sat down beside the lanky teen. Hobie offered her Miles’s arms, wanting both of his own hands free for teasing.
Miles whined through his laughter as he felt Gwen’s hands clamp around his wrists, giving his head a quick shake. “T-TRAHAHAITOR!”
That got an eye-roll out of the punk. He’d fully brought the tickles on himself, and he knew it. “Oh, hush it. Gwenny, ge’ his neck, yeah?”
“On it,” she grinned, gently scratching the underside of Miles’s chin. She knew it would take all the faux-fight out of him, and he couldn’t help but coo when he scrunched up his neck at her touch. “Aw, I forgot how cute he is when we both get him. It’s been a minute.”
Miles gave up on protesting after that, resigning to his tickly fate. The spider on Hobie’s back was still unfinished, giving him some hope for a comeback later in the day. Until then, he was doomed to continue laughing under the other teen heroes’ hands…
Omg nerdy prudes must die is on your fandom list? Could you do 24 from the tickletober list with Max & Peter or Richie? Honestly any of the nerds would do (Grace saying Max tickles them instead of teasing in the digital ticket makes me feral & that’s as good as canon to me)
TickleTober Day 24: Flinch
~Oooooh fuck, just realized I never posted this one. I set the wrong date for the queue😅. Also, you’re so right with the digital ticket thing. I went with Richie for this one bc I figured I could write him best for ya. Also, I apparently ship these two, so that’s apparent in the fic. I had a lot of fun. Thank you for your request, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Richie Lipschitz
Ler: Max Jägerman
Summary: Richie makes the grave mistake of bumping into Max, which leads to him pinned down on the football field. Before Max can pummel him, however, the jock makes a rather interesting discovery.
Warnings: canon-typical language, Max being his normal asshole-y self. This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
Richie could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he ran across the football field, not daring to glance behind him. Maybe, just maybe, his assailant would trip, and he’d be able to get away.
Who's after him? Of course, it’s Max Jägerman. Richie had accidentally shoulder-checked him while trying to make it to his bus, and Max decided that tormenting the nerd would be worth the walk home.
“Get back here, shit lips!”
Max was hot on the boy’s tail, hardly breaking a sweat as he darted across the field towards his target. The teachers had gone home for the day, and there was no after-school practice. Richie’s ass was his.
“P-please go away! I’m sorry!” he panted, though the nerd knew trying to apologize was a fruitless effort. Still, it made him feel a little less crazy.
Max laughed at that, finding the apology more cute than anything. “Hell no! You bumped into me, you dick! Your ass is grass!”
Predictably, Richie ran out of energy—adrenaline can only get you so far—and began to slow. Max easily closed the distance, tackling the poor boy to the turf.
“No! No, Max, please!” Richie kicked beneath the jock, feeling his arms get yanked above his head. “I didn’t mean to, honest!”
“Don’t think it matters, does it, Richie?” Max sneered, poking the boy’s chest to emphasize his point. Richie thrashed during one of the pokes though, and it landed on his stomach instead.
Richie jolted in the jock’s hold, a smile taking over his terrified grimace. “GYEEH! M-Max!”
That got the bully’s attention. Experimentally, he poked Richie’s stomach again. And, once again, the poor kid squeaked and flinched hard.
Oh, this’ll be good.
Leaning down, Max got in Richie’s face. “You seriously ticklish, shit lips?”
“I-I— No! Just let me go!”
Internally, Richie was panicking. Oh, great—Max just had to discover that little fact about him. He’d almost prefer being stuffed in his locker to that fate. At least it was kinda cozy in there, unlike the moist blades of turf digging into his back.
“Now you’re lying to me? You just wanna die, don’t ya?” he huffed, glaring down at Richie. He’d played around enough—it was time to strike.
Max’s fingers dug into the nerd’s stomach, testing out his reactions. And boy, did he get a reaction from that.
“SHIHIHIT! M-MAHAX, WHYHYHY?!” Richie squealed, arching his back as the other boy’s strong fingers dug into his stomach. It was surprisingly not painful, but damn, did it tickle.
The jock snorted at his reaction, finding it oddly entertaining. There was another emotion buried there too, but Max was a bit too occupied to acknowledge it. Also, he just didn’t want to. “Damn, you’re loud. Does it tickle, Richie? Huh?”
“OHOHO MYHY GOHOHOD!”
Richie’s face burned with flustered embarrassment as he listened to Max’s stupid words. They were meant to get to him, and they were certainly working. If it weren’t Max doing the tickling, he might even be having some fun.
Well… No, he wouldn’t think like that. Max was a bully, nothing more. He shouldn’t enjoy a second of the boy’s teasing. Definitely not.
“Not here, nerd,” he chuckled, kind of enjoying the way Richie lost his shit. That big smile, the stupid blush, his messy hair…
Damn, Jägerman, get your head out of your ass. He’s a nerdy prude. Not worth those kinds of thoughts, not like a hot chick would be.
To try and distract himself, he went down to Richie’s knees. He remembered that was a pretty bad spot from his own childhood. It was worth a shot.
“NYYAHAHAHO! M-MAHAHAX!”
Richie shrieked, throwing his head back against the turf. His knees had been his worst spot for as long as he could remember, and Max wasn’t holding back. He could barley sputter out pleas anymore, simply laughing his head off.
Unfortunately for Max, his reaction was the wrong kind of distracting.
The jock’s eyes were trained on Richie’s tickle-drunk expression, his burning cheeks, and the way he simply couldn’t take it. A strange feeling grew in his chest—one different from that of the burn sparked by pretty blondes or model magazines.
He couldn’t handle his mind anymore. He stopped the tickling, climbing up off of Richie. His own cheeks were flushed at that point, but the nerd was thankfully to wrecked to notice. “Watch where you’re walking next time, dumbass.”
“I-Ihihi…uhuhuhugh…” Richie panted, simply attempting to recover from the intense tickles. He hadn’t even tried to sit up, lying on his back with his eyes closed.
He looks…ugh.
“Fuckin’ nerd,” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away from the exhausted boy. Max just needed to get home and smoke to get…whatever those feelings were off of his mind. Yeah. Just needed a smoke.
Richie, on the other hand, was going through it. Max fucking Jägerman had tickled him senseless, and he wasn’t even all that mean about it. He almost seemed…happy?
Nope, too much weird for Richie’s soupy mind to handle. He would simply view his lack of bruises and wedgies as a blessing, nothing more. Once he regained his breath, he hauled himself to his feet and started the long walk home.
During their treks, boys had one another on their minds. Still, being the dumbasses they were, they refused to acknowledge it.