Oh Hi!

Wholesome PLATONIC SFW tickle blog, 26 y.o., she/her 🔞MINORS DNI🔞

[switch-witch-erin]

Hello and welcome! Please read before interacting with this blog

I’m Russian, so my English is not perfect

MINORS DNI/DNF

Also I’m 26 already, too lazy to redraw the pic

All stuff I draw is strictly platonic

If you think tickling can only be a kink/fetish and nothing else, please DNI

[unholy-cat]

Ребзи я опять приболела ( Да ЕПТ!) И рисовала это на последних крупицам воздуха. Я уверенна вам понравится 🩷

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

reblog if you would never let ai write fanfics for you

[switch-witch-erin]

Part 3 - Final pages!

Part 1

Part 2

My hyperfixation ended before I could finish it, so I decided to leave it at that, even though technically it’s not complete, maybe someday I’ll do something about it, but I doubt it. Nevertheless, it was done with utter love and affection for the characters, and I had fun making it!

Disclaimer: this is NOT a ship they’re just tipsy besties

[switch-witch-erin]

Potential tw: Mentioning NSFW tickling

I still don’t get all the debate over NSFW vs SFW tickling community.

❌ People who enjoy NSFW tickling are gross

❌ People who claim to only enjoy SFW tickling are actually fetishists/kinksters as there’s no such thing as enjoying SFW tickling

✅ People are different in all sorts of ways and can enjoy stuff however they want, without having to explain themselves

I mean… I run a SFW tickling blog, so, according to the NSFW side, it must be purely sexual for me. Wow, I had a tickle fight with my sister, that must be incest. Or wow I just tickled my one year old nephew, that must be child abuse. Don’t you feel the difference, between, for example, kissing your parent’s cheek and your partner’s cheek? Yeah, in both cases it’s just a cheek kiss, but there’s kind of a distinction, right? Same thing with tickles.

And about finding NSFW tickling enjoyers gross… Since when kink-shaming is okay, lol. As long as it’s a consensual act between adults - why not? To be fair, there are far weirder kinks/fetishes than tickling, and I get why some people may find it yucky, but hey, stay out of other people’s pants and businesses, let them have their fun

For me the entire argument feels both pointless and tiring. I don’t want to be considered a perv as a 25 years old SFW tickling enjoyer, but oppressing kinksters is not the way either. Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[switch-witch-erin]

As an extra piece of my mind, I gotta say that it always cracks me up seeing posts like “You don’t get it!!! Tickling is strictly a fetish/kink, I read it on the internet!!!” Lol. These peeps are not psychologists or psychiatrists, all they did was read info that supports their views and sum it up. Though it does irritate me that some rando thinks it’s okay to tell people “what they are” 🤡

[switch-witch-erin]

I’ve been receiving anonymous messages regarding me “harassing” NSFW tickling blogs…

Meanwhile me harassing NSFW blogs:

[luigis-favorite-cookies]

How it feels seeing an up-and-coming tickle blog that produces genuinely good quality art, that also seeks to deny the validity of "Sfw" tickle enjoyers, insisting they must be in denial of their fetish: "Hey I've seen this one" (The blog in question has not done any real harm to anyone, and I am not going to name it, nor even tacitly suggest that others do harm to it. I'm just writing my thoughts down, so that should anything happen, I can say that I called it.) I feel like this community is capable of exactly 2 types of drama, and one of them is the sfw and nsfw sides slinging shit at the other, as if either one is somehow less valid than the other. Honestly I'd love to see how many people can say they identify with both groups, just because the very notion of someone having the capacity to enjoy both fluffy and kinky tickles for their own merits would probably break some people's brains.

[switch-witch-erin]

I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that people who consider themselves liberals, support things like gender ideology where a person’s gender identity is more important than “what’s in their pants”, think that it’s okay to tell people what they are… Like oh you like sfw/platonic tickling? Naaahhhh it’s just a kink in disguise. You’re asexual/sex-repulsed and like sfw/platonic tickling? Naaaaahhh you’re delusional it’s a kink, you get sexual pleasure from it you just don’t know it. Absolutely zero respect to a person’s identity

[switch-witch-erin]

Since there was a miscommunication, I’d rather clarify what I meant:

Okay, I might have phrased it wrong, let me try to say it another way. No one has a right to assume something for another person, just like it is with gender, I was going for that analogy. Just as it is inappropriate to tell people who they are by their genitalia it is inappropriate to tell people what they are based on what they like. Aka tickling in our case. And it comes as a surprise for me that people can support gender ideology (valid), which is all about _not_ telling people what they are and letting them identify themselves, but still labelling people this and that when it comes to other spheres of life. Just like some people label those who enjoy sfw/platonic tickling kinksters in denial

[luigis-favorite-cookies]

How it feels seeing an up-and-coming tickle blog that produces genuinely good quality art, that also seeks to deny the validity of "Sfw" tickle enjoyers, insisting they must be in denial of their fetish: "Hey I've seen this one" (The blog in question has not done any real harm to anyone, and I am not going to name it, nor even tacitly suggest that others do harm to it. I'm just writing my thoughts down, so that should anything happen, I can say that I called it.) I feel like this community is capable of exactly 2 types of drama, and one of them is the sfw and nsfw sides slinging shit at the other, as if either one is somehow less valid than the other. Honestly I'd love to see how many people can say they identify with both groups, just because the very notion of someone having the capacity to enjoy both fluffy and kinky tickles for their own merits would probably break some people's brains.

[switch-witch-erin]

I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that people who consider themselves liberals, support things like gender ideology where a person’s gender identity is more important than “what’s in their pants”, think that it’s okay to tell people what they are… Like oh you like sfw/platonic tickling? Naaahhhh it’s just a kink in disguise. You’re asexual/sex-repulsed and like sfw/platonic tickling? Naaaaahhh you’re delusional it’s a kink, you get sexual pleasure from it you just don’t know it. Absolutely zero respect to a person’s identity

[switch-witch-erin]

One way or another

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, and this is my first fic in about 10 years, so be nice!!! I needed some joy in my life so I wrote it. Please leave feedback if you feel like it, even a simple “damn, good job” counts, for real

Also just in case: you’re not allowed to post it anywhere without my permission.

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: V/Kerry

Summary: Two grown ass men get tipsy and start acting silly, which results in lots of bantering and roughhousing

Potential tw: alcohol use, swearing

Aaaaand here’s a little drawing of it

Enjoy!

———————

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m tellin’ ya, V, ‘s not what you think it was.”

“Yeah? You remember a second of it? You got so shitfaced-…”

“Oh shut it, merc.”

Kerry chuckles and gives his man a proper nudge, which turns out to be barely a poke for a chromed merc, only making him smirk wider. The boys are chilling on one of Kerry’s couches, empty beer cans on V’s side and a few finished martini glasses on the other — Kerry’s always had a thing for drinking the same type of cocktails out of different glasses if that was an option instead of simply refilling them. There’s a fond, almost goofy smile on the older man’s face as he can finally spend some proper time with his precious cutie patootie input, and despite it being nothing special, just an ordinary date, he can’t help beaming at the man. The more they see each other, the more pleasure their conversations bring him, which is a breath of fresh air by itself, not to mention an uncharted territory since usually he’d rather not engage too much in the emotional, touchy-feely stuff outside of his own rambling and concerns. Yet every time they meet, V’s got a new story to tell, and Kerry actually finds himself eager to listen. Somehow so intimate yet so trivial.

Not just casual humping (at least not every time), no basic mutual complaining or boring how-are-you-doing type of exchanges, but a raw, utterly human experience.

Nibbles is sitting near V’s leg, casually cleaning her paw with a disinterested look, though the purring she emits makes the couch vibrate slightly, the corners of V’s mouth twitching upwards at the display. His hand moves to give her a few gentle pets, the expression on his face making Kerry chuckle.

“What, don’t I get any gushing over? Not good enough for ya?”

“More like not stinky enough. Don’ worry, you’re gettin’ there,” V leans down for a moment, sniffing the top of Nibbles’s head, his nose wrinkling, “d’ya know if we should give ‘er a shower..? Or is she supposed to smell like that?..”

The sight of the notorious V being a doted feline caretaker is utterly amusing, yet Kerry decides not to comment on it, not wishing to spook the moment — the merc’s cute in this state, he’d rather enjoy it while it lasts.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, this type of stink is natural for them. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to take action. Cats are more, eh… hygienic like that I guess. Self-cleaning and shit. So yeah, our lady here is doing marvelous, don’t you worry, single dad.”

“Single?..”

“…Well, technically, we’re not married yet.”

“…yet, huh?” That's when Kerry actually cracks up a notch and gives his man an unimpressed look, though it’s mostly in jest.

“Stop it.”

The expression on V’s face is usually hard to read as he has that trademark merc glare most of the time, seemingly out of habit, but at the moment it’s surprisingly serene, happy even, definitely a positive influence on the both of them. Kerry’s hand reaches out to caress his cheek, eyes squinting in a sly, somewhat mischievous manner.

“Shit. I love your gruff looks and attitude, but seeing you relaxed on a downtime, chillin’ here and all… it’s cute. Nice change o’ pace. It suits ya.”

V doesn’t mind the affectionate gesture, on the contrary, he leans into it, and even though he doesn’t like it when something’s close to his eyes, he’s enjoying the warmth of his man’s hand. Rough fingertips tracing the pieces of his cyberware.

“Never thought I’d hear that word about myself. But eh… heheh, thanks. Still not used to… y’know. Relaxin’ an’ all that.”

“No shit. Years of busting your ass would do that to ya. Don’ worry, you can always drop everything and become my boytoy, I got ‘nough eddies for the both of us~”

At first, V gives him the look, but it softens in mere seconds as he’s well aware it’s a joke. He even crosses his arms on his chest, somehow both entertained and annoyed.

“You already paid for my trauma team premium, Ker. Even though I specifically told you no-…”

“Guilty,” Kerry raises his arms in the air in a defeated gesture, a bit more serious this time around, “but for real, V, can you blame me? I got the eddies to provide my input with extra protection so he doesn’t bleed out somewhere nasty, and I’m supposed to just not do it? Nah, man, this won’t do. B’sides, not like it’s makin’ a hole in my pocket, I could buy you a whole ass AV, shit, a battalion of ‘em! So don’ ya go pout ‘bout it, it’s a gift! Don’t look a gift horse in the eyes or some shit!”

V chuckles at that, finding Kerry’s attempts to defend himself amusing, but after all, he is grateful for it, especially considering that Kerry’s stubborn enough to not listen to him when it’s a safety matter. It could be infuriating at times, and even hot when the mood is right, but overall it’s appreciated. Kerry’s own well-being? Eh, he’s already spoiled rotten, he’ll live one way or another. V’s health and safety? Top priority.

Kerry snickers as if he can read minds, and though at the moment V’s emotions are written all over his face, it’s hard not to tease him further:

“I could always buy ya some fancy lingerie to walk around all pretty, like a present to be unwrapped~ You could wear it as a thank you for my kindness”

V gives him the most skeptical, disappointed and straight up annoyed look he can muster at the moment, which only spurs Kerry on further.

“Or I could buy you a whole fuckin’ set o’ things. Leather harness, lacy sets, fishnet stockings… All ganic! Some fancy-shiny collar with a leash to take you on walks. What d’ya think? Anythin’ tinglin’?~”

“Kerry.”

“‘Lright, ‘lright, don’ get your panties in a twist, I’m just messin’ with ya~”

Kerry’s cheeks are slightly flushed with alcohol, creating more contrast between his actual skin tone and his freckles, and he chuckles under his breath, seemingly pondering something.

“Y’know, you’re the first person that actually survived a year with me without incidents. I know, shocking, ‘cause I’m so easy to deal with, but yeah, I usually get bored of people pretty quickly.”

Translating from Kerry language it means “I love you, and I appreciate having you in my life”, so that alone brings a little smile back to V’s face. His arm wraps around his input’s shoulders, giving him a proper, affectionate squeeze, and his hand moves to caress his upper arm, enjoying the skin texture. All while Kerry’s head rests on his shoulder, “Guess that means I’m not boring. I’ll take it as a compliment, especially coming from the great Kerry Eurodyne himself~”

The Kerry in question smiles at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement, which makes them look oddly scheming, like he’s up to no good. But it all quickly disappears once he relaxes, now simply observing his man with a soft, somewhat condescending demeanour.

“Damn right you’re not boring, in fact, you’re anythin’ but,” his hand carefully slides up into V’s short hair, stroking them, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips as he admires his man’s handsome face, savouring the sight, while also feeling proud of himself for having landed such a hot guy, and it gives him an idea, “bet ya only fell for my looks and money, didn’t ya?~”

They both know it’s just another one of Kerry’s quips, but V can’t help “indulging” him: “Naturally. Your ass is flat as fuck though, you better work on that if ya want me t’stay. No offence, just sayin’.”

The way Kerry’s face immediately changes almost makes V crack up right there on the spot.

“Wha-… Not like yours is much better!”

That’s when the merc finally gives in and actually laughs, his smile turning into a grin. The thing is, just a couple of days ago they were exchanging their workout routines with Kerry complaining he can’t get a proper six pack no matter how hard he tries, genetics be damned, and that includes his rockerbum — gaining muscle mass is a true challenge for him, and V’s well aware of that fact. All while V is a walking Greek god at this point, having installed plenty of implants, along with his occupation working in his favour when it comes to maintaining an athletic body. The overall banter amuses him nonetheless.

“We both know that’s not true, Ker. Face reality~”

“Okay, you know what? I got my other assets, you dumb merc, so save it!”

V does his best to feign surprise at that, going so far as to widen his eyes and open his mouth, making sure it’s right in between exaggeratedly theatrical and genuine, “You do?!”

Kerry’s hand swats at his shoulder.

“You’ve had your hands all over my freakin’ assets this past year, you gonk, I know you can’t get enough of ‘em!”

“Y’sure ‘bout it? I don’ really remember anythin’ like that.”

“I’ve got receipts, merc. Lots of ‘em.”

“Hm… You might be onto something, yeah. I remember my hands touching something really… flat. Y’know, so flat ya could play pool on it. Yeah, really… really flat.”

One of Kerry’s hands instantly darts towards his side, aiming for the ribs, and nimble fingers give it a few well-deserved scribbles. Of course, V was expecting something like that, and he easily grabs Kerry’s hand, but at what cost — the can of beer he’s been holding slips out of his grasp and falls straight onto his thigh, slightly splashing some of it in the process. The sound alerts Nibbles, and she proceeds to run away, startled by the whole ordeal, while V has that devious smirk on his face that speaks trouble. He was just given a perfect excuse.

“…Good job, Ker. Now it’s my turn.”

“Gonna hafta catch me first, gonkface,” a shit-eating grin on Kerry’s mug as he yanks his arm out of the grip, the man’s absolute definition of smug as he jolts up to his feet before V can even process what he’s up to, the invitation clear in his eyes. For a few seconds the rockerboy waits there to see if V would follow along with his initiative, and the moment the merc chuckles and starts moving, Kerry darts away, running around the couch to instantly bolt towards the other end of the villa.

“You’re so gonna get it,” after giving his man a couple seconds headstart, V jumps up to his feet, racing after him, a matching grin of his own making him look almost giddy with excitement.

Kerry straight up laughs, cutting corners, veering around furniture, occasionally tripping over stuff scattered on the floor — he can even hear a sound of something falling and breaking behind him, but it only makes him laugh even more. The sound of V’s rapid footsteps is getting closer, riling up the thrill of the chase, and he’s tempted to glance back at the merc, but he knows better, his heart is racing at the thought of his input being not far behind.

“Piss off, ya gohohonk!!”

“Fat chance!”

After sprinting upstairs, he quickly runs around the billiard table, trying to fool V and pretend that he’s changing direction, but yelps when he finds the man smirking at him from its other side, now both of them staring at each other with matching amusement. Kerry darts one way — V follows, Kerry darts the other — V’s already there, the rockerboy ends up barking out a laugh and turning around, huffing a bit from so much action, now aiming to go back down to the ground floor.

A surprised scream escapes him as two strong arms wrap around his midriff from behind, the sound he makes instantly bringing a barely noticeable flush to his face while he laughs, struggling in his man’s hold — all for shits and giggles of course. His vicious assailant is grinning from ear to ear, definitely proud of himself, and leans down a notch, easily throwing Kerry over his shoulder, the superior merc strength getting the best of the squirming singer, carrying him with ease.

“Put me down!! V!” His words are filled with shameless laughter, and all he gets in response to his plea is a playful smack on the ass, making him twitch and gasp in surprise, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he’s lazily wriggling around, “Ya dickhead!!”

“Yeah, go on, flail some more so I can drop ya and pretend it was an accident~”

He laughs, giving Kerry's rear another slap, rather gentle by his standards, the silly grin not leaving his face even for a second.

“Oops!” V suddenly flinches, pretending to be about to drop his dork of a man, but quickly straightens back up, smug as ever.

“ACK! Vincent!!” Kerry yelps, holding onto the merc’s hips for dear life, and smacks him on the shoulders with a playful glare, “You bastard! You better not drop me!”

The next thing Kerry knows is that he’s tossed onto his own bed, landing on his back with a loud “oof”, some air getting knocked out of his lungs, and even though he gives V another disapproving glare, it lacks any actual menace as here he is — lying down about to get fucked straight into the bedding by his resilient, steaming hot input. Tomorrow his lower back is going to be sore as hell, but it’s so worth it, therefore a bit of roughhousing is appreciated in this context. That’s until he meets V’s eyes full of sly cheerfulness — definitely not the look he has when he’s about to pound Kerry’s brains out. The slight panic appearing on the rockerboy’s face only entertains the merc further.

“W-Wait, V, what are ya-…” In a matter of seconds Kerry feels a whole ass barrage of wiggling fingers on his sides, and a loud, obnoxious laugh bursts out of his throat — he wasn’t expecting it at all. The man gives his input the most baffled, indignant diva look he can possibly achieve while his hands dart up to grab V’s wrists, pushing them away for mere moments before they return, continuing the outrageous act.

“V!! You know I hate that shit!! Oh you fuckin’ asshole, when I get away I’ll-… Pffft-hahaha!! You’re dehehead!!”

He is kind of disappointed that the whole thing wasn’t about sex, but he’s laughing so much he can’t spare a second to think about it. The Kerry Eurodyne is kicking his feet against the mattress nonstop in a laughing fit, his cackles filling the area to the brim while he’s thrashing around, his cheeks already flushing once again. V’s sitting near, a big, kind of goofy smirk on his face, both hands busy forcing all kinds of noises out of his input for his own entertainment, but he can tell that Kerry doesn’t actually mind it either — otherwise he would’ve been way less reactive and definitely grouchier than he is now. Of course, he’s always been ridiculously ticklish, so his laughing fit is a predictable reaction, but V knows him well enough to read his moods, so, strangely, Kerry seems to be having fun as well. Probably because he’s in his natural habitat — bottoming. Not to mention that the sight is way too sweet for V to stop his merciless assault.

Unable to resist the temptation to tease him further, V snickers, speaking in a taunting, borderline cooing voice, the one he absolutely loves using to ruffle Kerry’s feathers, “Caught myself a ticklish input, didn’t I? Wonder what should I do with him~”

Kerry snarls and hisses, trying to hold back his giggles at least for a while, but soon enough realises that it’s no use — the merc’s hands are cold as hell, fingers digging into his sides and now also stomach, making him writhe and squirm like a fish out of water, hearty laughter pouring out of him nonstop, yet he’s still trying to speak:

“Shuhuhut it!! You diIICK!! Ahaha!! Stahahp it already!! It fuckin’ tickles!!”

“That’s strange, considerin’ I’m ticklin’ ya.” He chuckles at his own retort, voice oozing with sarcasm and filled with obvious pride at having managed to reduce his poor man to such a state. Any attempts of getting away are prosecuted by extra tickles, making Kerry roll onto his side and curl up into a ball — the last potential resort to get away from the impending torture. The dopey grin on his face is gradually getting wider, making him look even more ridiculous, and by extension adorable in V’s eyes, he can’t get enough of it.

To his surprise, one of Kerry’s hands manages to weasel itself towards his side, now actively clawing and squeezing it with all his strength, clearly trying to get him back for the atrocious acts, but unfortunately for him, the badass, stolid merc seems to be barely ticklish. He does let out a couple of chuckles, twitching here and there, but that’s about it, and judging by the way he squints his eyes, after that little stunt Kerry’s done for it. V’s hands slide up, now mercilessly drilling his fingertips into his input’s ribs, knowing well enough that he absolutely can’t take it at that spot, though he’s being careful not to hurt or bruise his giggly man.

“GAHAHA NO!!” Kerry’s laughter is getting hoarser by the seconds, and he throws his head back, the corners of his eyes watering from so much guffawing, he’s a mess — dishevelled hair, sweaty forehead, signature tank top rumpled like never before, and ready to sign over his villa to V just so he’d stop, so it’s time to bring out the big guns, “V!! STOP! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF!!”

The merc chortles, amused to no extent, not pausing his attack for a millisecond, “No yer not. Not on yer fancy blankies anyway~”

“I MEAN IT! YOU SEEN HOW MANY MARTINIS I HAD?! I’M GONNA BURST!” This remark actually gets V’s attention. At the end of the day, if it’s not a joke, and the accident does happen, Kerry’s going to have his head, rightfully so. And that’s when all of a sudden in his cackling spree Kerry lets out a loud sound, which can be described as a mix of snoring and choking.

Both of them pause, looking at each other in confusion at first, as it takes them some time to process what it was, even for Kerry, since he was too busy laughing to watch his own reactions. For V it’s particularly concerning since he’s worried that he might have accidentally hurt his man or made him laugh so much that he’s now actually having trouble breathing, but soon enough the realisation hits him — it was a snort. And when that realisation settles, the merc barks out a laugh of his own, his shoulders trembling as he leans over, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all, while Kerry flushes even more than before, the silly grin stays on his face as he can’t help enjoying himself, even despite the lingering embarrassment. V’s hands start slowly sliding off him.

“‘Iright, Ker, here ya go, ya pisshead, free as a-…” The moment V relaxes enough to let his guard down, Kerry pounces, pulling him down onto his stomach, now straddling his hips, despite still panting from all the tickling and squirming. He knows V’s stronger than him, not only naturally, but also thanks to a shitload of implants, including the famous strength enhancers, so he wastes no time. Both of his hands slide under his input’s arms, aiming to get his armpits — since V’s hardly ever ticklish, he has to go all out to get his revenge. Fingers begin scribbling against the tender skin, and Kerry lets out a joyous “Ha!”, already gloating like a little kid.

“That’s what ya get!! Who’s ticklish now, huh?! Tickle-tickle-tickle, V! Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?!” Yet the moment he leans down to gauge his man’s reaction, his smile falters a smidge, the damn merc seems to be almost immune to his ministrations. Sure, he’s smiling, body shaking with silent giggles, but it seems like Kerry could be as well massaging or scratching his back, the reaction would’ve been the same, and he can’t help feeling just a tad bit frustrated over inability to get his well-deserved vendetta. There’s even a barely noticeable pout on his face, and he doubles down on his efforts, now fully digging his fingers into the skin, but once again — barely any reaction. By the looks of it, V’s cracking up at his failed attempts instead of the tickling itself, so in a spur of the moment Kerry lets out a displeased groan, turns around, and starts smacking V’s ass again and again, not that hard, more like playing bongo with too much enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, probably got some implant shoved up your ass for that too ya ‘borg!! Or what, you’re too “tough” for us mere mortals, hm? A broodin’ fuckin’ street Batman — no weaknesses, no anything, so very alpha!!”

To punctuate his words he pokes V right in the butt through his pants, and the man gasps in surprise, clearly not having expected that kind of retribution. He laughs though, and, propping himself on his hands, pushes himself up, making a very much startled Kerry slide off and flop down onto the bed with a look of surprise — his beast of an input has just easily committed a push-up with the extra weight of an entire man on top of him. Kerry can’t help feeling a slight flutter in his chest at that. But it evaporates as quickly as it appeared once V sits up, now looming over him, and Kerry instantly starts backing off before even realising it.

“C’mon, V, enough already, I’m dying here. Have some mercy, would ya? Y’know I love our tussles, but at this point I might as well cough my lungs out from laughin’ so much.”

A moment later Kerry’s on his back, once again pressed against the bedsheets by his beloved tough boy, and he’s about to glare at him, not appreciating having his requests ignored, yet a soft, lingering kiss stops him from grumbling. V’s lips are a little dry due to all the drinking and action, but they feel so warm and inviting, Kerry can’t help reciprocating, and at some point their teeth lightly clink against each other as they’re both smiling, unable to hold themselves back. They’re panting, but it’s all gradually coming down to a peaceful, relaxed moment, the bond they share making V melt on top of Kerry, though he still has to distribute his weight not to crush his diva. It feels like several weighted blankets have been stacked on the rockerboy, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s all up for it, and his arms wrap around the bigger man, scratching his back and caressing the edges of his cyberware.

The shared warmth brings a smile to V’s face once again, and he can’t help himself — leaning down, he begins thoroughly planting light, tender kisses on Kerry’s face, mainly targeting his cheeks and lips. God he’s absolutely smitten with Kerry’s cheeks. The most adorable set of kissable, freckled treasures. If tonight they’re being cheesy, might as well go all out.

These little pecks continue one after another, now also targeting the tip of Kerry’s nose, taking a break to give it a careful nip, the process of spoiling a certain rockerboy and showering him with affection is going at full force. At first, Kerry’s smiling, relishing in the rare moment of tenderness, but god knows he’s not used to that at all, so soon enough he starts turning his head from one side to another, trying to avoid the barrage of love shamelessly attacking his face. All while he can’t get the smile off his face no matter how much he tries.

“Hey now, I asked you for mercy!! What’s up with you today, hm? Mistook me for a body pillow or somethin’?”

V chuckles at that, planting a softer kiss on his temple, the besotted look on his face says it all — the man is way too in love right now to actually care about a thing except his cherished babygirl.

“Nah-nah, you asked for mercy from the tickles. So no tickles for ye. Maybe. There was nothin’ ‘bout kisses an’ such. So suck it up, Eurodyne,” his words are laced with affectionate teasing, and of course it’s all in jest, yet the kisses continue, and he keeps his input pinned down underneath him, eyes glimmering with somewhat childish giddiness. He sporadically switches spots like suddenly veering from pecking Kerry’s chin to nipping his cheek, despite all the squirming and feigned complaining. His kisses become more sluggish, as if he’s either getting sleepy or way too lazy to put in a smidge of effort, and that’s when the relentlessly smothered rockerboy realises — V’s now doing it all just to annoy him further, and the thought alone is enough to make him grin. He stoically takes such unbearable torment for a few more minutes before slipping one of his arms out and covering V’s mouth with his hand, lightly pushing his head away.

“Alright, Night City legend, you’ve had your fun. Now shoo. I need some space,” the statement alone is so surprising that merc’s eyes widen, and he shakes the hand off, not bothering to hide a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face.

“Some space? You sure about that?”

Kerry lets out a little “tsk” sound and even rolls his eyes halfway through, not like he acts that way often, but his input’s perception is spot on, and the mere fact that V knows him that well makes him feel things. Mostly irritation, but other stuff too.

“Shit. I need a break from all the kissing action, got it? You can… eh… stay where you are. But yeah, gimme a breather, would ya? I’m overstimulated as fuck. Thanks to all that tickling by the way, mostly at least. Oh and I am gettin’ you back for it. ‘Cause you gotta be ticklish somewhere, I just know it. Gonk ass merc.”

The tirade only serves to amuse V further, and he clumsily sits up, rolling his shoulders just to get rid of some leftover stiffness. The alcohol seems to have worn off for now, and he blinks a few times, as if seeing the world in new colours. When his eyes meet Kerry’s he snickers, voice laced with disbelief once he speaks up.

“Why are you so eager to get me back?”

“‘Cause that would be fair. Oh and so I can get you fucking squealing that’s why, you smug ass bastard. You deserve getting taken down a peg, and I’m gonna deliver, pretty boy. You’re getting tickled.”

V actually splutters with laughter at that as Kerry looks so determined and confident that it only adds up to the ridiculousness of it all, like he’s on some dire conquest against him. It’s actually hard to say whether he’s joking or being one hundred percent serious due to a mix of petulance and stubbornness on his face, so V chooses to take it in jest and opens his mouth to say something, but that’s when he hears Nibbles’s claws pitter-pattering across the floor, and freezes for a moment.

“Oh shit,” he hastily stands up, awkwardly fixing his clothes while noticing Kerry’s confused look, “you knocked over an empty whiskey bottle while running, better clean it up before Nibbles steps on it and hurts herself. Or you do, for that matter.”

The last comment actually brings a fond smile to Kerry’s face, the care in V’s voice is palpable and appreciated, plus he’s kind of glad that he’s not going to be the one to deal with the mess. Before he leaves, V leans down, planting a soft kiss on top of Kerry’s head — just the right spot not to overstimulate further and to show affection.

“And for the record, yeah, I am ticklish, but squealing? No fuckin’ way. That’s your department~”

“Eat shit.”

“Love ya too, Ker~”

V grins, giving his man one teasing look for the road, and turns around — clothes all wrinkly, hair sticking out here and there, and a fine ass gracefully moving with each step, making Kerry keep his eyes open for a few seconds longer. He’s suddenly left alone with all the pent up fatigue, and before he knows it, his mind already drifts off, the trademark snoring filling the villa.

[switch-witch-erin]

GUYS

I MADE A THING

GO CHECK OUT MY THING

[switch-witch-erin]

One way or another

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, and this is my first fic in about 10 years, so be nice!!! I needed some joy in my life so I wrote it. Please leave feedback if you feel like it, even a simple “damn, good job” counts, for real

Also just in case: you’re not allowed to post it anywhere without my permission.

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: V/Kerry

Summary: Two grown ass men get tipsy and start acting silly, which results in lots of bantering and roughhousing

Potential tw: alcohol use, swearing

Aaaaand here’s a little drawing of it

Enjoy!

———————

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m tellin’ ya, V, ‘s not what you think it was.”

“Yeah? You remember a second of it? You got so shitfaced-…”

“Oh shut it, merc.”

Kerry chuckles and gives his man a proper nudge, which turns out to be barely a poke for a chromed merc, only making him smirk wider. The boys are chilling on one of Kerry’s couches, empty beer cans on V’s side and a few finished martini glasses on the other — Kerry’s always had a thing for drinking the same type of cocktails out of different glasses if that was an option instead of simply refilling them. There’s a fond, almost goofy smile on the older man’s face as he can finally spend some proper time with his precious cutie patootie input, and despite it being nothing special, just an ordinary date, he can’t help beaming at the man. The more they see each other, the more pleasure their conversations bring him, which is a breath of fresh air by itself, not to mention an uncharted territory since usually he’d rather not engage too much in the emotional, touchy-feely stuff outside of his own rambling and concerns. Yet every time they meet, V’s got a new story to tell, and Kerry actually finds himself eager to listen. Somehow so intimate yet so trivial.

Not just casual humping (at least not every time), no basic mutual complaining or boring how-are-you-doing type of exchanges, but a raw, utterly human experience.

Nibbles is sitting near V’s leg, casually cleaning her paw with a disinterested look, though the purring she emits makes the couch vibrate slightly, the corners of V’s mouth twitching upwards at the display. His hand moves to give her a few gentle pets, the expression on his face making Kerry chuckle.

“What, don’t I get any gushing over? Not good enough for ya?”

“More like not stinky enough. Don’ worry, you’re gettin’ there,” V leans down for a moment, sniffing the top of Nibbles’s head, his nose wrinkling, “d’ya know if we should give ‘er a shower..? Or is she supposed to smell like that?..”

The sight of the notorious V being a doted feline caretaker is utterly amusing, yet Kerry decides not to comment on it, not wishing to spook the moment — the merc’s cute in this state, he’d rather enjoy it while it lasts.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, this type of stink is natural for them. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to take action. Cats are more, eh… hygienic like that I guess. Self-cleaning and shit. So yeah, our lady here is doing marvelous, don’t you worry, single dad.”

“Single?..”

“…Well, technically, we’re not married yet.”

“…yet, huh?” That's when Kerry actually cracks up a notch and gives his man an unimpressed look, though it’s mostly in jest.

“Stop it.”

The expression on V’s face is usually hard to read as he has that trademark merc glare most of the time, seemingly out of habit, but at the moment it’s surprisingly serene, happy even, definitely a positive influence on the both of them. Kerry’s hand reaches out to caress his cheek, eyes squinting in a sly, somewhat mischievous manner.

“Shit. I love your gruff looks and attitude, but seeing you relaxed on a downtime, chillin’ here and all… it’s cute. Nice change o’ pace. It suits ya.”

V doesn’t mind the affectionate gesture, on the contrary, he leans into it, and even though he doesn’t like it when something’s close to his eyes, he’s enjoying the warmth of his man’s hand. Rough fingertips tracing the pieces of his cyberware.

“Never thought I’d hear that word about myself. But eh… heheh, thanks. Still not used to… y’know. Relaxin’ an’ all that.”

“No shit. Years of busting your ass would do that to ya. Don’ worry, you can always drop everything and become my boytoy, I got ‘nough eddies for the both of us~”

At first, V gives him the look, but it softens in mere seconds as he’s well aware it’s a joke. He even crosses his arms on his chest, somehow both entertained and annoyed.

“You already paid for my trauma team premium, Ker. Even though I specifically told you no-…”

“Guilty,” Kerry raises his arms in the air in a defeated gesture, a bit more serious this time around, “but for real, V, can you blame me? I got the eddies to provide my input with extra protection so he doesn’t bleed out somewhere nasty, and I’m supposed to just not do it? Nah, man, this won’t do. B’sides, not like it’s makin’ a hole in my pocket, I could buy you a whole ass AV, shit, a battalion of ‘em! So don’ ya go pout ‘bout it, it’s a gift! Don’t look a gift horse in the eyes or some shit!”

V chuckles at that, finding Kerry’s attempts to defend himself amusing, but after all, he is grateful for it, especially considering that Kerry’s stubborn enough to not listen to him when it’s a safety matter. It could be infuriating at times, and even hot when the mood is right, but overall it’s appreciated. Kerry’s own well-being? Eh, he’s already spoiled rotten, he’ll live one way or another. V’s health and safety? Top priority.

Kerry snickers as if he can read minds, and though at the moment V’s emotions are written all over his face, it’s hard not to tease him further:

“I could always buy ya some fancy lingerie to walk around all pretty, like a present to be unwrapped~ You could wear it as a thank you for my kindness”

V gives him the most skeptical, disappointed and straight up annoyed look he can muster at the moment, which only spurs Kerry on further.

“Or I could buy you a whole fuckin’ set o’ things. Leather harness, lacy sets, fishnet stockings… All ganic! Some fancy-shiny collar with a leash to take you on walks. What d’ya think? Anythin’ tinglin’?~”

“Kerry.”

“‘Lright, ‘lright, don’ get your panties in a twist, I’m just messin’ with ya~”

Kerry’s cheeks are slightly flushed with alcohol, creating more contrast between his actual skin tone and his freckles, and he chuckles under his breath, seemingly pondering something.

“Y’know, you’re the first person that actually survived a year with me without incidents. I know, shocking, ‘cause I’m so easy to deal with, but yeah, I usually get bored of people pretty quickly.”

Translating from Kerry language it means “I love you, and I appreciate having you in my life”, so that alone brings a little smile back to V’s face. His arm wraps around his input’s shoulders, giving him a proper, affectionate squeeze, and his hand moves to caress his upper arm, enjoying the skin texture. All while Kerry’s head rests on his shoulder, “Guess that means I’m not boring. I’ll take it as a compliment, especially coming from the great Kerry Eurodyne himself~”

The Kerry in question smiles at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement, which makes them look oddly scheming, like he’s up to no good. But it all quickly disappears once he relaxes, now simply observing his man with a soft, somewhat condescending demeanour.

“Damn right you’re not boring, in fact, you’re anythin’ but,” his hand carefully slides up into V’s short hair, stroking them, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips as he admires his man’s handsome face, savouring the sight, while also feeling proud of himself for having landed such a hot guy, and it gives him an idea, “bet ya only fell for my looks and money, didn’t ya?~”

They both know it’s just another one of Kerry’s quips, but V can’t help “indulging” him: “Naturally. Your ass is flat as fuck though, you better work on that if ya want me t’stay. No offence, just sayin’.”

The way Kerry’s face immediately changes almost makes V crack up right there on the spot.

“Wha-… Not like yours is much better!”

That’s when the merc finally gives in and actually laughs, his smile turning into a grin. The thing is, just a couple of days ago they were exchanging their workout routines with Kerry complaining he can’t get a proper six pack no matter how hard he tries, genetics be damned, and that includes his rockerbum — gaining muscle mass is a true challenge for him, and V’s well aware of that fact. All while V is a walking Greek god at this point, having installed plenty of implants, along with his occupation working in his favour when it comes to maintaining an athletic body. The overall banter amuses him nonetheless.

“We both know that’s not true, Ker. Face reality~”

“Okay, you know what? I got my other assets, you dumb merc, so save it!”

V does his best to feign surprise at that, going so far as to widen his eyes and open his mouth, making sure it’s right in between exaggeratedly theatrical and genuine, “You do?!”

Kerry’s hand swats at his shoulder.

“You’ve had your hands all over my freakin’ assets this past year, you gonk, I know you can’t get enough of ‘em!”

“Y’sure ‘bout it? I don’ really remember anythin’ like that.”

“I’ve got receipts, merc. Lots of ‘em.”

“Hm… You might be onto something, yeah. I remember my hands touching something really… flat. Y’know, so flat ya could play pool on it. Yeah, really… really flat.”

One of Kerry’s hands instantly darts towards his side, aiming for the ribs, and nimble fingers give it a few well-deserved scribbles. Of course, V was expecting something like that, and he easily grabs Kerry’s hand, but at what cost — the can of beer he’s been holding slips out of his grasp and falls straight onto his thigh, slightly splashing some of it in the process. The sound alerts Nibbles, and she proceeds to run away, startled by the whole ordeal, while V has that devious smirk on his face that speaks trouble. He was just given a perfect excuse.

“…Good job, Ker. Now it’s my turn.”

“Gonna hafta catch me first, gonkface,” a shit-eating grin on Kerry’s mug as he yanks his arm out of the grip, the man’s absolute definition of smug as he jolts up to his feet before V can even process what he’s up to, the invitation clear in his eyes. For a few seconds the rockerboy waits there to see if V would follow along with his initiative, and the moment the merc chuckles and starts moving, Kerry darts away, running around the couch to instantly bolt towards the other end of the villa.

“You’re so gonna get it,” after giving his man a couple seconds headstart, V jumps up to his feet, racing after him, a matching grin of his own making him look almost giddy with excitement.

Kerry straight up laughs, cutting corners, veering around furniture, occasionally tripping over stuff scattered on the floor — he can even hear a sound of something falling and breaking behind him, but it only makes him laugh even more. The sound of V’s rapid footsteps is getting closer, riling up the thrill of the chase, and he’s tempted to glance back at the merc, but he knows better, his heart is racing at the thought of his input being not far behind.

“Piss off, ya gohohonk!!”

“Fat chance!”

After sprinting upstairs, he quickly runs around the billiard table, trying to fool V and pretend that he’s changing direction, but yelps when he finds the man smirking at him from its other side, now both of them staring at each other with matching amusement. Kerry darts one way — V follows, Kerry darts the other — V’s already there, the rockerboy ends up barking out a laugh and turning around, huffing a bit from so much action, now aiming to go back down to the ground floor.

A surprised scream escapes him as two strong arms wrap around his midriff from behind, the sound he makes instantly bringing a barely noticeable flush to his face while he laughs, struggling in his man’s hold — all for shits and giggles of course. His vicious assailant is grinning from ear to ear, definitely proud of himself, and leans down a notch, easily throwing Kerry over his shoulder, the superior merc strength getting the best of the squirming singer, carrying him with ease.

“Put me down!! V!” His words are filled with shameless laughter, and all he gets in response to his plea is a playful smack on the ass, making him twitch and gasp in surprise, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he’s lazily wriggling around, “Ya dickhead!!”

“Yeah, go on, flail some more so I can drop ya and pretend it was an accident~”

He laughs, giving Kerry's rear another slap, rather gentle by his standards, the silly grin not leaving his face even for a second.

“Oops!” V suddenly flinches, pretending to be about to drop his dork of a man, but quickly straightens back up, smug as ever.

“ACK! Vincent!!” Kerry yelps, holding onto the merc’s hips for dear life, and smacks him on the shoulders with a playful glare, “You bastard! You better not drop me!”

The next thing Kerry knows is that he’s tossed onto his own bed, landing on his back with a loud “oof”, some air getting knocked out of his lungs, and even though he gives V another disapproving glare, it lacks any actual menace as here he is — lying down about to get fucked straight into the bedding by his resilient, steaming hot input. Tomorrow his lower back is going to be sore as hell, but it’s so worth it, therefore a bit of roughhousing is appreciated in this context. That’s until he meets V’s eyes full of sly cheerfulness — definitely not the look he has when he’s about to pound Kerry’s brains out. The slight panic appearing on the rockerboy’s face only entertains the merc further.

“W-Wait, V, what are ya-…” In a matter of seconds Kerry feels a whole ass barrage of wiggling fingers on his sides, and a loud, obnoxious laugh bursts out of his throat — he wasn’t expecting it at all. The man gives his input the most baffled, indignant diva look he can possibly achieve while his hands dart up to grab V’s wrists, pushing them away for mere moments before they return, continuing the outrageous act.

“V!! You know I hate that shit!! Oh you fuckin’ asshole, when I get away I’ll-… Pffft-hahaha!! You’re dehehead!!”

He is kind of disappointed that the whole thing wasn’t about sex, but he’s laughing so much he can’t spare a second to think about it. The Kerry Eurodyne is kicking his feet against the mattress nonstop in a laughing fit, his cackles filling the area to the brim while he’s thrashing around, his cheeks already flushing once again. V’s sitting near, a big, kind of goofy smirk on his face, both hands busy forcing all kinds of noises out of his input for his own entertainment, but he can tell that Kerry doesn’t actually mind it either — otherwise he would’ve been way less reactive and definitely grouchier than he is now. Of course, he’s always been ridiculously ticklish, so his laughing fit is a predictable reaction, but V knows him well enough to read his moods, so, strangely, Kerry seems to be having fun as well. Probably because he’s in his natural habitat — bottoming. Not to mention that the sight is way too sweet for V to stop his merciless assault.

Unable to resist the temptation to tease him further, V snickers, speaking in a taunting, borderline cooing voice, the one he absolutely loves using to ruffle Kerry’s feathers, “Caught myself a ticklish input, didn’t I? Wonder what should I do with him~”

Kerry snarls and hisses, trying to hold back his giggles at least for a while, but soon enough realises that it’s no use — the merc’s hands are cold as hell, fingers digging into his sides and now also stomach, making him writhe and squirm like a fish out of water, hearty laughter pouring out of him nonstop, yet he’s still trying to speak:

“Shuhuhut it!! You diIICK!! Ahaha!! Stahahp it already!! It fuckin’ tickles!!”

“That’s strange, considerin’ I’m ticklin’ ya.” He chuckles at his own retort, voice oozing with sarcasm and filled with obvious pride at having managed to reduce his poor man to such a state. Any attempts of getting away are prosecuted by extra tickles, making Kerry roll onto his side and curl up into a ball — the last potential resort to get away from the impending torture. The dopey grin on his face is gradually getting wider, making him look even more ridiculous, and by extension adorable in V’s eyes, he can’t get enough of it.

To his surprise, one of Kerry’s hands manages to weasel itself towards his side, now actively clawing and squeezing it with all his strength, clearly trying to get him back for the atrocious acts, but unfortunately for him, the badass, stolid merc seems to be barely ticklish. He does let out a couple of chuckles, twitching here and there, but that’s about it, and judging by the way he squints his eyes, after that little stunt Kerry’s done for it. V’s hands slide up, now mercilessly drilling his fingertips into his input’s ribs, knowing well enough that he absolutely can’t take it at that spot, though he’s being careful not to hurt or bruise his giggly man.

“GAHAHA NO!!” Kerry’s laughter is getting hoarser by the seconds, and he throws his head back, the corners of his eyes watering from so much guffawing, he’s a mess — dishevelled hair, sweaty forehead, signature tank top rumpled like never before, and ready to sign over his villa to V just so he’d stop, so it’s time to bring out the big guns, “V!! STOP! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF!!”

The merc chortles, amused to no extent, not pausing his attack for a millisecond, “No yer not. Not on yer fancy blankies anyway~”

“I MEAN IT! YOU SEEN HOW MANY MARTINIS I HAD?! I’M GONNA BURST!” This remark actually gets V’s attention. At the end of the day, if it’s not a joke, and the accident does happen, Kerry’s going to have his head, rightfully so. And that’s when all of a sudden in his cackling spree Kerry lets out a loud sound, which can be described as a mix of snoring and choking.

Both of them pause, looking at each other in confusion at first, as it takes them some time to process what it was, even for Kerry, since he was too busy laughing to watch his own reactions. For V it’s particularly concerning since he’s worried that he might have accidentally hurt his man or made him laugh so much that he’s now actually having trouble breathing, but soon enough the realisation hits him — it was a snort. And when that realisation settles, the merc barks out a laugh of his own, his shoulders trembling as he leans over, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all, while Kerry flushes even more than before, the silly grin stays on his face as he can’t help enjoying himself, even despite the lingering embarrassment. V’s hands start slowly sliding off him.

“‘Iright, Ker, here ya go, ya pisshead, free as a-…” The moment V relaxes enough to let his guard down, Kerry pounces, pulling him down onto his stomach, now straddling his hips, despite still panting from all the tickling and squirming. He knows V’s stronger than him, not only naturally, but also thanks to a shitload of implants, including the famous strength enhancers, so he wastes no time. Both of his hands slide under his input’s arms, aiming to get his armpits — since V’s hardly ever ticklish, he has to go all out to get his revenge. Fingers begin scribbling against the tender skin, and Kerry lets out a joyous “Ha!”, already gloating like a little kid.

“That’s what ya get!! Who’s ticklish now, huh?! Tickle-tickle-tickle, V! Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?!” Yet the moment he leans down to gauge his man’s reaction, his smile falters a smidge, the damn merc seems to be almost immune to his ministrations. Sure, he’s smiling, body shaking with silent giggles, but it seems like Kerry could be as well massaging or scratching his back, the reaction would’ve been the same, and he can’t help feeling just a tad bit frustrated over inability to get his well-deserved vendetta. There’s even a barely noticeable pout on his face, and he doubles down on his efforts, now fully digging his fingers into the skin, but once again — barely any reaction. By the looks of it, V’s cracking up at his failed attempts instead of the tickling itself, so in a spur of the moment Kerry lets out a displeased groan, turns around, and starts smacking V’s ass again and again, not that hard, more like playing bongo with too much enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, probably got some implant shoved up your ass for that too ya ‘borg!! Or what, you’re too “tough” for us mere mortals, hm? A broodin’ fuckin’ street Batman — no weaknesses, no anything, so very alpha!!”

To punctuate his words he pokes V right in the butt through his pants, and the man gasps in surprise, clearly not having expected that kind of retribution. He laughs though, and, propping himself on his hands, pushes himself up, making a very much startled Kerry slide off and flop down onto the bed with a look of surprise — his beast of an input has just easily committed a push-up with the extra weight of an entire man on top of him. Kerry can’t help feeling a slight flutter in his chest at that. But it evaporates as quickly as it appeared once V sits up, now looming over him, and Kerry instantly starts backing off before even realising it.

“C’mon, V, enough already, I’m dying here. Have some mercy, would ya? Y’know I love our tussles, but at this point I might as well cough my lungs out from laughin’ so much.”

A moment later Kerry’s on his back, once again pressed against the bedsheets by his beloved tough boy, and he’s about to glare at him, not appreciating having his requests ignored, yet a soft, lingering kiss stops him from grumbling. V’s lips are a little dry due to all the drinking and action, but they feel so warm and inviting, Kerry can’t help reciprocating, and at some point their teeth lightly clink against each other as they’re both smiling, unable to hold themselves back. They’re panting, but it’s all gradually coming down to a peaceful, relaxed moment, the bond they share making V melt on top of Kerry, though he still has to distribute his weight not to crush his diva. It feels like several weighted blankets have been stacked on the rockerboy, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s all up for it, and his arms wrap around the bigger man, scratching his back and caressing the edges of his cyberware.

The shared warmth brings a smile to V’s face once again, and he can’t help himself — leaning down, he begins thoroughly planting light, tender kisses on Kerry’s face, mainly targeting his cheeks and lips. God he’s absolutely smitten with Kerry’s cheeks. The most adorable set of kissable, freckled treasures. If tonight they’re being cheesy, might as well go all out.

These little pecks continue one after another, now also targeting the tip of Kerry’s nose, taking a break to give it a careful nip, the process of spoiling a certain rockerboy and showering him with affection is going at full force. At first, Kerry’s smiling, relishing in the rare moment of tenderness, but god knows he’s not used to that at all, so soon enough he starts turning his head from one side to another, trying to avoid the barrage of love shamelessly attacking his face. All while he can’t get the smile off his face no matter how much he tries.

“Hey now, I asked you for mercy!! What’s up with you today, hm? Mistook me for a body pillow or somethin’?”

V chuckles at that, planting a softer kiss on his temple, the besotted look on his face says it all — the man is way too in love right now to actually care about a thing except his cherished babygirl.

“Nah-nah, you asked for mercy from the tickles. So no tickles for ye. Maybe. There was nothin’ ‘bout kisses an’ such. So suck it up, Eurodyne,” his words are laced with affectionate teasing, and of course it’s all in jest, yet the kisses continue, and he keeps his input pinned down underneath him, eyes glimmering with somewhat childish giddiness. He sporadically switches spots like suddenly veering from pecking Kerry’s chin to nipping his cheek, despite all the squirming and feigned complaining. His kisses become more sluggish, as if he’s either getting sleepy or way too lazy to put in a smidge of effort, and that’s when the relentlessly smothered rockerboy realises — V’s now doing it all just to annoy him further, and the thought alone is enough to make him grin. He stoically takes such unbearable torment for a few more minutes before slipping one of his arms out and covering V’s mouth with his hand, lightly pushing his head away.

“Alright, Night City legend, you’ve had your fun. Now shoo. I need some space,” the statement alone is so surprising that merc’s eyes widen, and he shakes the hand off, not bothering to hide a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face.

“Some space? You sure about that?”

Kerry lets out a little “tsk” sound and even rolls his eyes halfway through, not like he acts that way often, but his input’s perception is spot on, and the mere fact that V knows him that well makes him feel things. Mostly irritation, but other stuff too.

“Shit. I need a break from all the kissing action, got it? You can… eh… stay where you are. But yeah, gimme a breather, would ya? I’m overstimulated as fuck. Thanks to all that tickling by the way, mostly at least. Oh and I am gettin’ you back for it. ‘Cause you gotta be ticklish somewhere, I just know it. Gonk ass merc.”

The tirade only serves to amuse V further, and he clumsily sits up, rolling his shoulders just to get rid of some leftover stiffness. The alcohol seems to have worn off for now, and he blinks a few times, as if seeing the world in new colours. When his eyes meet Kerry’s he snickers, voice laced with disbelief once he speaks up.

“Why are you so eager to get me back?”

“‘Cause that would be fair. Oh and so I can get you fucking squealing that’s why, you smug ass bastard. You deserve getting taken down a peg, and I’m gonna deliver, pretty boy. You’re getting tickled.”

V actually splutters with laughter at that as Kerry looks so determined and confident that it only adds up to the ridiculousness of it all, like he’s on some dire conquest against him. It’s actually hard to say whether he’s joking or being one hundred percent serious due to a mix of petulance and stubbornness on his face, so V chooses to take it in jest and opens his mouth to say something, but that’s when he hears Nibbles’s claws pitter-pattering across the floor, and freezes for a moment.

“Oh shit,” he hastily stands up, awkwardly fixing his clothes while noticing Kerry’s confused look, “you knocked over an empty whiskey bottle while running, better clean it up before Nibbles steps on it and hurts herself. Or you do, for that matter.”

The last comment actually brings a fond smile to Kerry’s face, the care in V’s voice is palpable and appreciated, plus he’s kind of glad that he’s not going to be the one to deal with the mess. Before he leaves, V leans down, planting a soft kiss on top of Kerry’s head — just the right spot not to overstimulate further and to show affection.

“And for the record, yeah, I am ticklish, but squealing? No fuckin’ way. That’s your department~”

“Eat shit.”

“Love ya too, Ker~”

V grins, giving his man one teasing look for the road, and turns around — clothes all wrinkly, hair sticking out here and there, and a fine ass gracefully moving with each step, making Kerry keep his eyes open for a few seconds longer. He’s suddenly left alone with all the pent up fatigue, and before he knows it, his mind already drifts off, the trademark snoring filling the villa.

[switch-witch-erin]

GUYS

I MADE A THING

GO CHECK OUT MY THING

[switch-witch-erin]

One way or another

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, and this is my first fic in about 10 years, so be nice!!! I needed some joy in my life so I wrote it. Please leave feedback if you feel like it, even a simple “damn, good job” counts, for real

Also just in case: you’re not allowed to post it anywhere without my permission.

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: V/Kerry

Summary: Two grown ass men get tipsy and start acting silly, which results in lots of bantering and roughhousing

Potential tw: alcohol use, swearing, sex jokes and discussions (barely there though!)

Aaaaand here’s a little drawing of it

Enjoy!

———————

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m tellin’ ya, V, ‘s not what you think it was.”

“Yeah? You remember a second of it? You got so shitfaced-…”

“Oh shut it, merc.”

Kerry chuckles and gives his man a proper nudge, which turns out to be barely a poke for a chromed merc, only making him smirk wider. The boys are chilling on one of Kerry’s couches, empty beer cans on V’s side and a few finished martini glasses on the other — Kerry’s always had a thing for drinking the same type of cocktails out of different glasses if that was an option instead of simply refilling them. There’s a fond, almost goofy smile on the older man’s face as he can finally spend some proper time with his precious cutie patootie input, and despite it being nothing special, just an ordinary date, he can’t help beaming at the man. The more they see each other, the more pleasure their conversations bring him, which is a breath of fresh air by itself, not to mention an uncharted territory since usually he’d rather not engage too much in the emotional, touchy-feely stuff outside of his own rambling and concerns. Yet every time they meet, V’s got a new story to tell, and Kerry actually finds himself eager to listen. Somehow so intimate yet so trivial.

Not just casual humping (at least not every time), no basic mutual complaining or boring how-are-you-doing type of exchanges, but a raw, utterly human experience.

Nibbles is sitting near V’s leg, casually cleaning her paw with a disinterested look, though the purring she emits makes the couch vibrate slightly, the corners of V’s mouth twitching upwards at the display. His hand moves to give her a few gentle pets, the expression on his face making Kerry chuckle.

“What, don’t I get any gushing over? Not good enough for ya?”

“More like not stinky enough. Don’ worry, you’re gettin’ there,” V leans down for a moment, sniffing the top of Nibbles’s head, his nose wrinkling, “d’ya know if we should give ‘er a shower..? Or is she supposed to smell like that?..”

The sight of the notorious V being a doted feline caretaker is utterly amusing, yet Kerry decides not to comment on it, not wishing to spook the moment — the merc’s cute in this state, he’d rather enjoy it while it lasts.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, this type of stink is natural for them. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to take action. Cats are more, eh… hygienic like that I guess. Self-cleaning and shit. So yeah, our lady here is doing marvelous, don’t you worry, single dad.”

“Single?..”

“…Well, technically, we’re not married yet.”

“…yet, huh?” That's when Kerry actually cracks up a notch and gives his man an unimpressed look, though it’s mostly in jest.

“Stop it.”

The expression on V’s face is usually hard to read as he has that trademark merc glare most of the time, seemingly out of habit, but at the moment it’s surprisingly serene, happy even, definitely a positive influence on the both of them. Kerry’s hand reaches out to caress his cheek, eyes squinting in a sly, somewhat mischievous manner.

“Shit. I love your gruff looks and attitude, but seeing you relaxed on a downtime, chillin’ here and all… it’s cute. Nice change o’ pace. It suits ya.”

V doesn’t mind the affectionate gesture, on the contrary, he leans into it, and even though he doesn’t like it when something’s close to his eyes, he’s enjoying the warmth of his man’s hand. Rough fingertips tracing the pieces of his cyberware.

“Never thought I’d hear that word about myself. But eh… heheh, thanks. Still not used to… y’know. Relaxin’ an’ all that.”

“No shit. Years of busting your ass would do that to ya. Don’ worry, you can always drop everything and become my boytoy, I got ‘nough eddies for the both of us~”

At first, V gives him the look, but it softens in mere seconds as he’s well aware it’s a joke. He even crosses his arms on his chest, somehow both entertained and annoyed.

“You already paid for my trauma team premium, Ker. Even though I specifically told you no-…”

“Guilty,” Kerry raises his arms in the air in a defeated gesture, a bit more serious this time around, “but for real, V, can you blame me? I got the eddies to provide my input with extra protection so he doesn’t bleed out somewhere nasty, and I’m supposed to just not do it? Nah, man, this won’t do. B’sides, not like it’s makin’ a hole in my pocket, I could buy you a whole ass AV, shit, a battalion of ‘em! So don’ ya go pout ‘bout it, it’s a gift! Don’t look a gift horse in the eyes or some shit!”

V chuckles at that, finding Kerry’s attempts to defend himself amusing, but after all, he is grateful for it, especially considering that Kerry’s stubborn enough to not listen to him when it’s a safety matter. It could be infuriating at times, and even hot when the mood is right, but overall it’s appreciated. Kerry’s own well-being? Eh, he’s already spoiled rotten, he’ll live one way or another. V’s health and safety? Top priority.

Kerry snickers as if he can read minds, and though at the moment V’s emotions are written all over his face, it’s hard not to tease him further:

“I could always buy ya some fancy lingerie to walk around all pretty, like a present to be unwrapped~ You could wear it as a thank you for my kindness”

V gives him the most skeptical, disappointed and straight up annoyed look he can muster at the moment, which only spurs Kerry on further.

“Or I could buy you a whole fuckin’ set o’ things. Leather harness, lacy sets, fishnet stockings… All ganic! Some fancy-shiny collar with a leash to take you on walks. What d’ya think? Anythin’ tinglin’?~”

“Kerry.”

“‘Lright, ‘lright, don’ get your panties in a twist, I’m just messin’ with ya~”

Kerry’s cheeks are slightly flushed with alcohol, creating more contrast between his actual skin tone and his freckles, and he chuckles under his breath, seemingly pondering something.

“Y’know, you’re the first person that actually survived a year with me without incidents. I know, shocking, ‘cause I’m so easy to deal with, but yeah, I usually get bored of people pretty quickly.”

Translating from Kerry language it means “I love you, and I appreciate having you in my life”, so that alone brings a little smile back to V’s face. His arm wraps around his input’s shoulders, giving him a proper, affectionate squeeze, and his hand moves to caress his upper arm, enjoying the skin texture. All while Kerry’s head rests on his shoulder, “Guess that means I’m not boring. I’ll take it as a compliment, especially coming from the great Kerry Eurodyne himself~”

The Kerry in question smiles at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement, which makes them look oddly scheming, like he’s up to no good. But it all quickly disappears once he relaxes, now simply observing his man with a soft, somewhat condescending demeanour.

“Damn right you’re not boring, in fact, you’re anythin’ but,” his hand carefully slides up into V’s short hair, stroking them, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips as he admires his man’s handsome face, savouring the sight, while also feeling proud of himself for having landed such a hot guy, and it gives him an idea, “bet ya only fell for my looks and money, didn’t ya?~”

They both know it’s just another one of Kerry’s quips, but V can’t help “indulging” him: “Naturally. Your ass is flat as fuck though, you better work on that if ya want me t’stay. No offence, just sayin’.”

The way Kerry’s face immediately changes almost makes V crack up right there on the spot.

“Wha-… Not like yours is much better!”

That’s when the merc finally gives in and actually laughs, his smile turning into a grin. The thing is, just a couple of days ago they were exchanging their workout routines with Kerry complaining he can’t get a proper six pack no matter how hard he tries, genetics be damned, and that includes his rockerbum — gaining muscle mass is a true challenge for him, and V’s well aware of that fact. All while V is a walking Greek god at this point, having installed plenty of implants, along with his occupation working in his favour when it comes to maintaining an athletic body. The overall banter amuses him nonetheless.

“We both know that’s not true, Ker. Face reality~”

“Okay, you know what? I got my other assets, you dumb merc, so save it!”

V does his best to feign surprise at that, going so far as to widen his eyes and open his mouth, making sure it’s right in between exaggeratedly theatrical and genuine, “You do?!”

Kerry’s hand swats at his shoulder.

“You’ve had your hands all over my freakin’ assets this past year, you gonk, I know you can’t get enough of ‘em!”

“Y’sure ‘bout it? I don’ really remember anythin’ like that.”

“I’ve got receipts, merc. Lots of ‘em.”

“Hm… You might be onto something, yeah. I remember my hands touching something really… flat. Y’know, so flat ya could play pool on it. Yeah, really… really flat.”

One of Kerry’s hands instantly darts towards his side, aiming for the ribs, and nimble fingers give it a few well-deserved scribbles. Of course, V was expecting something like that, and he easily grabs Kerry’s hand, but at what cost — the can of beer he’s been holding slips out of his grasp and falls straight onto his thigh, slightly splashing some of it in the process. The sound alerts Nibbles, and she proceeds to run away, startled by the whole ordeal, while V has that devious smirk on his face that speaks trouble. He was just given a perfect excuse.

“…Good job, Ker. Now it’s my turn.”

“Gonna hafta catch me first, gonkface,” a shit-eating grin on Kerry’s mug as he yanks his arm out of the grip, the man’s absolute definition of smug as he jolts up to his feet before V can even process what he’s up to, the invitation clear in his eyes. For a few seconds the rockerboy waits there to see if V would follow along with his initiative, and the moment the merc chuckles and starts moving, Kerry darts away, running around the couch to instantly bolt towards the other end of the villa.

“You’re so gonna get it,” after giving his man a couple seconds headstart, V jumps up to his feet, racing after him, a matching grin of his own making him look almost giddy with excitement.

Kerry straight up laughs, cutting corners, veering around furniture, occasionally tripping over stuff scattered on the floor — he can even hear a sound of something falling and breaking behind him, but it only makes him laugh even more. The sound of V’s rapid footsteps is getting closer, riling up the thrill of the chase, and he’s tempted to glance back at the merc, but he knows better, his heart is racing at the thought of his input being not far behind.

“Piss off, ya gohohonk!!”

“Fat chance!”

After sprinting upstairs, he quickly runs around the billiard table, trying to fool V and pretend that he’s changing direction, but yelps when he finds the man smirking at him from its other side, now both of them staring at each other with matching amusement. Kerry darts one way — V follows, Kerry darts the other — V’s already there, the rockerboy ends up barking out a laugh and turning around, huffing a bit from so much action, now aiming to go back down to the ground floor.

A surprised scream escapes him as two strong arms wrap around his midriff from behind, the sound he makes instantly bringing a barely noticeable flush to his face while he laughs, struggling in his man’s hold — all for shits and giggles of course. His vicious assailant is grinning from ear to ear, definitely proud of himself, and leans down a notch, easily throwing Kerry over his shoulder, the superior merc strength getting the best of the squirming singer, carrying him with ease.

“Put me down!! V!” His words are filled with shameless laughter, and all he gets in response to his plea is a playful smack on the ass, making him twitch and gasp in surprise, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he’s lazily wriggling around, “Ya dickhead!!”

“Yeah, go on, flail some more so I can drop ya and pretend it was an accident~”

He laughs, giving Kerry's rear another slap, rather gentle by his standards, the silly grin not leaving his face even for a second.

“Oops!” V suddenly flinches, pretending to be about to drop his dork of a man, but quickly straightens back up, smug as ever.

“ACK! Vincent!!” Kerry yelps, holding onto the merc’s hips for dear life, and smacks him on the shoulders with a playful glare, “You bastard! You better not drop me!”

The next thing Kerry knows is that he’s tossed onto his own bed, landing on his back with a loud “oof”, some air getting knocked out of his lungs, and even though he gives V another disapproving glare, it lacks any actual menace as here he is — lying down about to get fucked straight into the bedding by his resilient, steaming hot input. Tomorrow his lower back is going to be sore as hell, but it’s so worth it, therefore a bit of roughhousing is appreciated in this context. That’s until he meets V’s eyes full of sly cheerfulness — definitely not the look he has when he’s about to pound Kerry’s brains out. The slight panic appearing on the rockerboy’s face only entertains the merc further.

“W-Wait, V, what are ya-…” In a matter of seconds Kerry feels a whole ass barrage of wiggling fingers on his sides, and a loud, obnoxious laugh bursts out of his throat — he wasn’t expecting it at all. The man gives his input the most baffled, indignant diva look he can possibly achieve while his hands dart up to grab V’s wrists, pushing them away for mere moments before they return, continuing the outrageous act.

“V!! You know I hate that shit!! Oh you fuckin’ asshole, when I get away I’ll-… Pffft-hahaha!! You’re dehehead!!”

He is kind of disappointed that the whole thing wasn’t about sex, but he’s laughing so much he can’t spare a second to think about it. The Kerry Eurodyne is kicking his feet against the mattress nonstop in a laughing fit, his cackles filling the area to the brim while he’s thrashing around, his cheeks already flushing once again. V’s sitting near, a big, kind of goofy smirk on his face, both hands busy forcing all kinds of noises out of his input for his own entertainment, but he can tell that Kerry doesn’t actually mind it either — otherwise he would’ve been way less reactive and definitely grouchier than he is now. Of course, he’s always been ridiculously ticklish, so his laughing fit is a predictable reaction, but V knows him well enough to read his moods, so, strangely, Kerry seems to be having fun as well. Probably because he’s in his natural habitat — bottoming. Not to mention that the sight is way too sweet for V to stop his merciless assault.

Unable to resist the temptation to tease him further, V snickers, speaking in a taunting, borderline cooing voice, the one he absolutely loves using to ruffle Kerry’s feathers, “Caught myself a ticklish input, didn’t I? Wonder what should I do with him~”

Kerry snarls and hisses, trying to hold back his giggles at least for a while, but soon enough realises that it’s no use — the merc’s hands are cold as hell, fingers digging into his sides and now also stomach, making him writhe and squirm like a fish out of water, hearty laughter pouring out of him nonstop, yet he’s still trying to speak:

“Shuhuhut it!! You diIICK!! Ahaha!! Stahahp it already!! It fuckin’ tickles!!”

“That’s strange, considerin’ I’m ticklin’ ya.” He chuckles at his own retort, voice oozing with sarcasm and filled with obvious pride at having managed to reduce his poor man to such a state. Any attempts of getting away are prosecuted by extra tickles, making Kerry roll onto his side and curl up into a ball — the last potential resort to get away from the impending torture. The dopey grin on his face is gradually getting wider, making him look even more ridiculous, and by extension adorable in V’s eyes, he can’t get enough of it.

To his surprise, one of Kerry’s hands manages to weasel itself towards his side, now actively clawing and squeezing it with all his strength, clearly trying to get him back for the atrocious acts, but unfortunately for him, the badass, stolid merc seems to be barely ticklish. He does let out a couple of chuckles, twitching here and there, but that’s about it, and judging by the way he squints his eyes, after that little stunt Kerry’s done for it. V’s hands slide up, now mercilessly drilling his fingertips into his input’s ribs, knowing well enough that he absolutely can’t take it at that spot, though he’s being careful not to hurt or bruise his giggly man.

“GAHAHA NO!!” Kerry’s laughter is getting hoarser by the seconds, and he throws his head back, the corners of his eyes watering from so much guffawing, he’s a mess — dishevelled hair, sweaty forehead, signature tank top rumpled like never before, and ready to sign over his villa to V just so he’d stop, so it’s time to bring out the big guns, “V!! STOP! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF!!”

The merc chortles, amused to no extent, not pausing his attack for a millisecond, “No yer not. Not on yer fancy blankies anyway~”

“I MEAN IT! YOU SEEN HOW MANY MARTINIS I HAD?! I’M GONNA BURST!” This remark actually gets V’s attention. At the end of the day, if it’s not a joke, and the accident does happen, Kerry’s going to have his head, rightfully so. And that’s when all of a sudden in his cackling spree Kerry lets out a loud sound, which can be described as a mix of snoring and choking.

Both of them pause, looking at each other in confusion at first, as it takes them some time to process what it was, even for Kerry, since he was too busy laughing to watch his own reactions. For V it’s particularly concerning since he’s worried that he might have accidentally hurt his man or made him laugh so much that he’s now actually having trouble breathing, but soon enough the realisation hits him — it was a snort. And when that realisation settles, the merc barks out a laugh of his own, his shoulders trembling as he leans over, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all, while Kerry flushes even more than before, the silly grin stays on his face as he can’t help enjoying himself, even despite the lingering embarrassment. V’s hands start slowly sliding off him.

“‘Iright, Ker, here ya go, ya pisshead, free as a-…” The moment V relaxes enough to let his guard down, Kerry pounces, pulling him down onto his stomach, now straddling his hips, despite still panting from all the tickling and squirming. He knows V’s stronger than him, not only naturally, but also thanks to a shitload of implants, including the famous strength enhancers, so he wastes no time. Both of his hands slide under his input’s arms, aiming to get his armpits — since V’s hardly ever ticklish, he has to go all out to get his revenge. Fingers begin scribbling against the tender skin, and Kerry lets out a joyous “Ha!”, already gloating like a little kid.

“That’s what ya get!! Who’s ticklish now, huh?! Tickle-tickle-tickle, V! Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?!” Yet the moment he leans down to gauge his man’s reaction, his smile falters a smidge, the damn merc seems to be almost immune to his ministrations. Sure, he’s smiling, body shaking with silent giggles, but it seems like Kerry could be as well massaging or scratching his back, the reaction would’ve been the same, and he can’t help feeling just a tad bit frustrated over inability to get his well-deserved vendetta. There’s even a barely noticeable pout on his face, and he doubles down on his efforts, now fully digging his fingers into the skin, but once again — barely any reaction. By the looks of it, V’s cracking up at his failed attempts instead of the tickling itself, so in a spur of the moment Kerry lets out a displeased groan, turns around, and starts smacking V’s ass again and again, not that hard, more like playing bongo with too much enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, probably got some implant shoved up your ass for that too ya ‘borg!! Or what, you’re too “tough” for us mere mortals, hm? A broodin’ fuckin’ street Batman — no weaknesses, no anything, so very alpha!!”

To punctuate his words he pokes V right in the butt through his pants, and the man gasps in surprise, clearly not having expected that kind of retribution. He laughs though, and, propping himself on his hands, pushes himself up, making a very much startled Kerry slide off and flop down onto the bed with a look of surprise — his beast of an input has just easily committed a push-up with the extra weight of an entire man on top of him. Kerry can’t help feeling a slight flutter in his chest at that. But it evaporates as quickly as it appeared once V sits up, now looming over him, and Kerry instantly starts backing off before even realising it.

“C’mon, V, enough already, I’m dying here. Have some mercy, would ya? Y’know I love our tussles, but at this point I might as well cough my lungs out from laughin’ so much.”

A moment later Kerry’s on his back, once again pressed against the bedsheets by his beloved tough boy, and he’s about to glare at him, not appreciating having his requests ignored, yet a soft, lingering kiss stops him from grumbling. V’s lips are a little dry due to all the drinking and action, but they feel so warm and inviting, Kerry can’t help reciprocating, and at some point their teeth lightly clink against each other as they’re both smiling, unable to hold themselves back. They’re panting, but it’s all gradually coming down to a peaceful, relaxed moment, the bond they share making V melt on top of Kerry, though he still has to distribute his weight not to crush his diva. It feels like several weighted blankets have been stacked on the rockerboy, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s all up for it, and his arms wrap around the bigger man, scratching his back and caressing the edges of his cyberware.

The shared warmth brings a smile to V’s face once again, and he can’t help himself — leaning down, he begins thoroughly planting light, tender kisses on Kerry’s face, mainly targeting his cheeks and lips. God he’s absolutely smitten with Kerry’s cheeks. The most adorable set of kissable, freckled treasures. If tonight they’re being cheesy, might as well go all out.

These little pecks continue one after another, now also targeting the tip of Kerry’s nose, taking a break to give it a careful nip, the process of spoiling a certain rockerboy and showering him with affection is going at full force. At first, Kerry’s smiling, relishing in the rare moment of tenderness, but god knows he’s not used to that at all, so soon enough he starts turning his head from one side to another, trying to avoid the barrage of love shamelessly attacking his face. All while he can’t get the smile off his face no matter how much he tries.

“Hey now, I asked you for mercy!! What’s up with you today, hm? Mistook me for a body pillow or somethin’?”

V chuckles at that, planting a softer kiss on his temple, the besotted look on his face says it all — the man is way too in love right now to actually care about a thing except his cherished babygirl.

“Nah-nah, you asked for mercy from the tickles. So no tickles for ye. Maybe. There was nothin’ ‘bout kisses an’ such. So suck it up, Eurodyne,” his words are laced with affectionate teasing, and of course it’s all in jest, yet the kisses continue, and he keeps his input pinned down underneath him, eyes glimmering with somewhat childish giddiness. He sporadically switches spots like suddenly veering from pecking Kerry’s chin to nipping his cheek, despite all the squirming and feigned complaining. His kisses become more sluggish, as if he’s either getting sleepy or way too lazy to put in a smidge of effort, and that’s when the relentlessly smothered rockerboy realises — V’s now doing it all just to annoy him further, and the thought alone is enough to make him grin. He stoically takes such unbearable torment for a few more minutes before slipping one of his arms out and covering V’s mouth with his hand, lightly pushing his head away.

“Alright, Night City legend, you’ve had your fun. Now shoo. I need some space,” the statement alone is so surprising that merc’s eyes widen, and he shakes the hand off, not bothering to hide a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face.

“Some space? You sure about that?”

Kerry lets out a little “tsk” sound and even rolls his eyes halfway through, not like he acts that way often, but his input’s perception is spot on, and the mere fact that V knows him that well makes him feel things. Mostly irritation, but other stuff too.

“Shit. I need a break from all the kissing action, got it? You can… eh… stay where you are. But yeah, gimme a breather, would ya? I’m overstimulated as fuck. Thanks to all that tickling by the way, mostly at least. Oh and I am gettin’ you back for it. ‘Cause you gotta be ticklish somewhere, I just know it. Gonk ass merc.”

The tirade only serves to amuse V further, and he clumsily sits up, rolling his shoulders just to get rid of some leftover stiffness. The alcohol seems to have worn off for now, and he blinks a few times, as if seeing the world in new colours. When his eyes meet Kerry’s he snickers, voice laced with disbelief once he speaks up.

“Why are you so eager to get me back?”

“‘Cause that would be fair. Oh and so I can get you fucking squealing that’s why, you smug ass bastard. You deserve getting taken down a peg, and I’m gonna deliver, pretty boy. You’re getting tickled.”

V actually splutters with laughter at that as Kerry looks so determined and confident that it only adds up to the ridiculousness of it all, like he’s on some dire conquest against him. It’s actually hard to say whether he’s joking or being one hundred percent serious due to a mix of petulance and stubbornness on his face, so V chooses to take it in jest and opens his mouth to say something, but that’s when he hears Nibbles’s claws pitter-pattering across the floor, and freezes for a moment.

“Oh shit,” he hastily stands up, awkwardly fixing his clothes while noticing Kerry’s confused look, “you knocked over an empty whiskey bottle while running, better clean it up before Nibbles steps on it and hurts herself. Or you do, for that matter.”

The last comment actually brings a fond smile to Kerry’s face, the care in V’s voice is palpable and appreciated, plus he’s kind of glad that he’s not going to be the one to deal with the mess. Before he leaves, V leans down, planting a soft kiss on top of Kerry’s head — just the right spot not to overstimulate further and to show affection.

“And for the record, yeah, I am ticklish, but squealing? No fuckin’ way. That’s your department~”

“Eat shit.”

“Love ya too, Ker~”

V grins, giving his man one teasing look for the road, and turns around — clothes all wrinkly, hair sticking out here and there, and a fine ass gracefully moving with each step, making Kerry keep his eyes open for a few seconds longer. He’s suddenly left alone with all the pent up fatigue, and before he knows it, his mind already drifts off, the trademark snoring filling the villa.

[geethingy]

another fight on the hail mary

fandom: project hail mary

summary: rocky pov - he wants to cuss. inspired by a post i saw where rocky is trying to call grace a little bitch

note: i know i said stratt or carl is next and they are 🤞right after this. also i know i already did this idea but... what if i just kept up a bunch of installments of them having tickle fights like this??? i fear i will not move on anytime soon.

BTW rocky is in his form fitting suit in this fic. i had a whole part written out about how he built the suit for Grace's birthday and got too excited to wait and built it way quicker than expected outta eagerness but. i couldn't find a way to make it fit 💔

~~~~~~~

Logically, I know Grace is not a child.

I startled when we first discussed age. I thought there must have been a mistranslation - or that Eridians were mistaken in their estimate of the time it takes for Earth to complete its rotation around Sol. But no - he assured me we were indeed precisely accurate. Grace is 38 Earth years old. Approximately 13,870 Earth rotations - though he says it's more, and must be nearing his 39th year soon. I understand why human culture marks days of their birth as special. I am sure Eridians would celebrate each year as well if our lives were as rare and fleeting. If incredible responsibilities were entrusted upon us at such a young age. If we accomplished so much in such a short time.

Being in Grace's presence, I find myself adapting more to his sentimentality and emotional physiology. Truthfully, I want to implement the human customs of birthday celebrations through all of Erid once we arrive. I realized just how rare and special life is while on this mission. I want to implement many, many, many of humanity's customs on Erid and turn my home into his.

Anyway, he is not a child, I know this. He is fully mature for his species. But damn it, he is only 38 years old! Those shit eaters let a baby sacrifice himself! A baby saved my life and my world!

Right now, too much power is in the hands of a baby.

"Not a baby, you butthead. I'm a full grown man. Been a full grown man twice over now, and some change. Humans reach adulthood at 18. I've told you this."

"Butthead? You are a baby. Will not even put my vulgar words in the computer," I sulk. I'm finally starting to adapt to English's use of pronouns in their language. I believe the least he could do is translate my words properly.

"I won't let your bad habits rub off on me," he says. Ironic, since I'd say that specific turn of phrase sounds quite vulgar. "You're a bad influence."

"You are stupid! Stubborn! Like a baby," I say, oddly agitated at being called a bad influence. Because like I said, I have adapted so heavily to Grace since boarding the Hail Mary. I enjoy his emotional processing. I enjoy his silly ways of communication, often so confusing in how far off the direct translation is. I find myself speaking like him and acting like him and I am certain I will return home as the strangest Eridian of all time. More than I already was. "I am older. Smarter. You must listen to my influence, instead of influencing all over me, all of the time!"

I must have said something incorrectly somehow, because his happy mouth stretches and huffs in amusement. I can't believe I ever used to be disturbed by that action. It is incredibly endearing how obviously humans wear their emotions, and all agitation I previously had warms away at the sound everytime.

Truly, I will be a freak to all Eridians. Luckily, I am still able to keep my emotions from.. secreting out of me better than my friend, so I pretend I am still annoyed. Mostly pretend; I really fucking want to swear.

"You are purposely ignoring important culture. Refusing to learn. Future of Erid's education at risk because you are stupid and stubborn," Grace's face twists as my words reach him the way I intend. "Teach me English swear words, baby. Obey your senior," I stomp.

"I taught you stupid and stubborn, didn't I? Isn't that enough?" Grace sticks his disgusting tongue out at me over his computer - crude even on Earth - and I shout and cringe backwards.

"Childish! You can do an awful thing like that, and I cannot even call you a little bitch?"

"I'm sorry, what was that? Didn't catch that last part."

"Oh, fuck you! I will add it myself!" I run up to him to grab at the computer, but he stands and holds it above my reach. I curse again - how can a creature of just 38 years be so tall?

And then he sticks his tongue out at me again, but this time, he blows, creating the worst sound in all of existence.

I will show him scary space monster. I will show him Rocky of Balboa.

"Give it to me or I will tickle." I wave two 'jazz' hands near him, but in threat this time. He is incredibly weak to this and already begins giggling before touching him, his arms dropping halfway down before he catches himself.

"You c-hhh-can't just do that every time you don't get what you want. That's abuSI-I-IVE!!"

He drops to the floor laughing instantly when I squish his sides, as he typically does, but he is stubborn stubborn stubborn today. He hugs the thinking machine under him protectively, leaving the rest of himself exposed even knowing what will happen. All fine with me - his malleable flesh is tremendously touch-satisfying. As are his reactions. I wonder if human brain chemicals are infectious to my species. The laughter certainly is.

His giggles break into whiny shouts as I crawl now three of my hands up and down the sides of his back. His grip is loosening on the computer, and I could easily grab it now, but I don't go for it just yet.

"Baby, baby, baby! Let me swear, and Grace will not suffer."

"Never!" A sudden strength overtakes him, and he manages to crawl away. I grip an ankle quickly and he falls in his escape, and I briefly worry the thinking machine is damaged before I notice it is still secure in his arms. However, he suddenly struggles harder and his heart rate picks up speed in panic.

"Grace, question?" I say with concern. His lower appendage rolls around erratically, and I almost let go in fear he will hurt himself. But then his giggles are back, and I have not touched him!

"Nonono-! Don't - not there! Rocky!"

Hmm.

He has not told me about this. I tilt my carapace at him and tickle on his lower appendage. I do it lightly, not like I normally do, just in case I am wrong and this action will harm him too much.

"NNN-!" He seizes for a second before bursting into sound. He abandons the computer in an effort to pull his leg out instead. I am strong and he cannot do this - he just pulls the rest of his body closer. What a reaction! Just from light touch! How can he stand on them? Is this what socks and shoes are for, so humans do not get tickled all the time? Why is their evolution so inconvenient?

"STOP! STOHOOP. HEREHEREHERE - YOU WIN, ครรђ๏ɭє!" I let go immediately. Grace draws his legs into a ball. He continues to laugh tiredly - I wonder if humans are so sensitive, they can feel a tickle both before it happens and after? I make a note to ask about this and all my other questions.

Wait. That last word. I have not heard it before!

"Did Grace just say bad word, question?"

His smile is very resonant when he says, "Yes. ครรђ๏ɭє. You can look up the meaning yourself." He hands the computer to me.

I trill, feeling very accomplished and influential. I start searching and... wait. There are already many, many, many Eridian bad words inputted into the translation code!

"What is this, question?"

"I've been adding them to our library as I heard them, of course. I wouldn't actually keep them out just because I don't use them." What?!

"Then why..." Ohh. I see. I see how it is.

I scramble on top of him again, ignoring any and all pleas. Gleefully, I sing all the words I know he understands.

[soft--dragon]

Loneliness Haunts My Skin

Grace's years of isolation from humans result in severe touch starvation. Rocky takes one look at this problem and says, "Hold my minerals."

Word Count: 3,687

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Inspired by an adorable series on A03 focused on Grace being a wet cat and Rocky learning about human quirks (physical contact and mental health)  Link Below! Archive of Our Own: Platonic Cuddling Series 

The journey to Erid was slow going.

Space. More space. Some stars. A little more space. And oh, hey, would you look at that! Space again!

During his lonely trek back to Earth, Ryland Grace had considered cracking out the cocktail of Knockout Juice to slip him into a coma until he was home. Now, however, he wasn’t alone aboard the Hail Mary. Heck, he wasn’t even going home anymore. 

He’d been on such a rollercoaster of emotions over heading back to Earth. Despair, acceptance (not really), hope, then acceptance again (for real this time). With the finality of his choice to stay permanently in foreign space, something festered within Grace.

Despite the companionship he has, an awful emptiness latched its teeth into his core and wouldn’t abate. No matter how much time he’d spend with Rocky or watch clips of Earth in the Don’t Go Crazy Room, the feeling of wrongness stayed, and Grace has no idea how to stop it. 

A shudder runs through his form, making Grace hunch further in on himself, gripping onto his arms. His skin ached something fierce, despite his hands rubbing along the surface in a meager attempt to self-soothe against the barrage of phantom needles. What he would give to be bundled in his mother’s arms like he was ten again after tumbling off his bike and scraping his knee. Or being smothered in his dad’s all-encompassing embrace after a failed science experiment, a promise that one day, “He’d be the smartest and coolest of all scientists”. What he’d give for any form of hug at all whilst in deep space-

The invisible aches haunting his body intensify in a sudden surge. Grace freezes in place, struck by a daunting realisation.

…Oh. 

It was cruel and unfair, but it made sense. The urge to cry welling up behind his eyes has Grace's breath shuddering out of him sporadically. 

“Grace, okay, question?”

The doubled thudding of the Eridian’s back leg cuts through the static building in Grace’s head. He looks to the side and finds the alien ‘watching’ him intently, his carapace shifting in blatant concern. 

Grace has to push the word out of his throat. “...No.” He rubs his palm along his arm with a disconnected fervor. It doesn’t feel as though the warmth of his own skin is even getting through. 

“What problem, question?” 

How could he even begin to explain the torrential emotions wreaking havoc on his wrung-out body? “There’s something wrong with me.”

“Grace sick? Question?” Rocky is growing restless, feet thunking against the xenonite shell of his ball.

Grace swallows back the lump trying to start an uprising of sadness in his throat. It was a persistent battle. “It’s a human thing,” he rasps. “I don’t know if it can be helped.”

“Explain. Rocky fix.”

Grace shakes his head as he burrows into his arms, both to hide his burning eyes and to escape this conversation. Rocky couldn’t fix it. Bless that alien’s heart of gold for trying, but he just couldn’t. What Grace needed, what he was craving, was human touch. It had been years since he left Earth, and his skin was growing desperate for an inkling of steady, warm contact. But by abandoning his journey to Earth in favour of saving his best friend - which he didn’t regret for a second, mind you - he’d robbed himself of the chance to ever experience it again. 

Granted, the last memory of touch was being forcibly restrained to the ground, suffocating pressure pinning him down as he screamed for help that would never come. Not exactly a golden recollection of human connection. 

A steady series of tapping filters into Grace’s ears, getting past the marching band thumping away. He peeks over his forearm. Rocky has rolled himself so close that he’s right beside his friend. 

“Heartbeat fast,” the Eridian states, worry warbling through his medeloic voice. “Bad, bad, bad. Oxygen needed.”

He’s close enough that Grace can feel the alien’s warmth through the xenonite. His skin practically buzzes with the idea of leaning against the Eridian’s stone-like form, multiple arms encircling him with a pressure that could settle his racing thoughts and lonely heart.

Grace can’t help it. He gives in to his pathetic, human instincts. 

His arms stretch out from his self-contained ball of panic to clutch around the xenonite, drag Rocky into his chest, and slump against the warm, glass-like surface. A sob tries to strangle his throat, but any noise is kept locked behind Grace’s pursed lips. Rocky tucks himself against the wall separating them, soft melodic noises rumbling from his form in an attempt to settle the erratic pounding he can hear within Grace’s chest. He’d only heard this in moments of extreme distress for his human, and it hurt every time. Though Grace is trying to stay quiet, soft plinks of moisture hitting the top of the zenonite were heard loud and clear for the alien.

Grace clings to the zenonite ball as tightly as he can, trying to trick his mind into believing that the smooth, warm surface was what it was after. That this hug shared between two species unable to co-exist within the same environment is enough for his human instincts. 

His skin prickles. The tears keep falling. It isn’t enough. And it is going to stay that way for as long as he is away from Earth. 

A shudder runs through the man at this bleak thought, the ever-expanding pit in his chest feeling as though it’s swallowing up his entire being. 

As if he heard the emotional casam split further, Rocky’s warbles take on a mournful croon. “Grace, tell Rocky what wrong. Please?”

Grace presses his tear-stained cheek against the warm surface, sighing miserably. 

“I’m touch starved.” He says it quietly, fingertips brushing over a surface that isn’t organic enough to trick his brain into thinking it’s skin. “Humans are social beings; we naturally seek connection, and with that comes physical contact. It’s common with anyone we’re close to, not just mates. It’s ingrained into us to co-regulate, so when we go for a long time without that, it causes us to experience skin hunger. It makes humans feel bad.” 

Rocky cocks his body to the side, akin to tilting one's head. “Is hug helping badness?”

Grace wishes he could say yes, but then he’d be lying, and he didn’t want to do that to Rocky. Shaking his head miserably, Grace scrubs a fist across his eyes to stem the flow of tears. “No. I’m hugging you, but I can’t feel you hugging back. Pressure is a key thing with hugging; it feels safer that way.”

Rocky trills sadly. “Apologies.”

Grace shakes his head again, but this time it’s paired with a weak, sincere smile. “It’s not your fault. Just sucks that our biologies are so different. I bet you’d give really good hugs without this thing in the way.” Grace knocks twice on the ball, emphasizing the distance between them.  

Rocky chitters, though there’s something contemplative about his tone now - an inquisitive warble rumbling through the plates atop his body. He leans away from Grace, his back legs thumping against the casing of his ball as he thinks. “Rocky has idea.”

“Yeah?” Grace lets his arms fall away, desperately ignoring the loss they feel as the warmth disappears from them. There was no need to be clingy. It wasn’t exactly like the hug was helping him in the long run. It was like putting a sticky plaster over a gaping chest wound and calling it a day.

Rocky trills again, more full-bodied. Determined. “Yes. Need to begin work now. Will show Grace when ready.” Rocky is practically buzzing. An eagerness tugging at his limbs as he fidgets in place, itching to start whatever ‘mystery project’ he’s begun cooking up.

“...You gonna tell me what your idea is?”

The alien gives Grace his version of a thumbs up and happily chirps, “No.”

______________________________________________________________

Two days. 

Rocky has been working nonstop for two days. 

To make it even more peculiar, he hasn’t allowed Grace anywhere near him as he crafts. Any time Grace sets foot in the lab, he gets hissed at. Forget Eridans being extraterrestrial lifeforms of complex intelligence. That sentient stone spider is a cat in disguise. Grace has it on good authority that the little guy practically purrs whenever he’s smug or has done something clever. There was simply no other way to describe the happy trills rumbling from his body. 

So, Grace has been forced to amuse himself with other things on the Hail Mary, as his only companion is acting like a kid fresh into puberty and staying in his room to play video games. Fortunately, Stratt had been generous enough to provide enough stimuli aboard the ship to keep the passengers entertained while they slowly died in an eternal abyss of stars. 

Unfortunately, he could only consume so many episodes of Star Trek in total silence before he felt an oncoming existential crisis about watching a space show in space.  

Thankfully, just as he’s considering going into the lab and risking being cursed out in Eridian, a series of clunks from multiple legs echo through the ship. Only… it didn’t sound like it was coming from inside the hamster tunnels running throughout the vessel. Nor was the clunking dulled slightly by a xenonite ball following the demands of five limbs. 

It sounds clearer. Closer. Concerningly faster than the ball as well. 

Grace drops the Comfort Quilt™ from his shoulders and scrambles up from his crossed leg position. He doesn’t even know what he’s bracing for, but what greets him when it stomps into view is not what he’d been expecting in the slightest.

Rocky is encased in xenonite. Not a ball. His body is literally wearing such close-fitting xenonite that it follows every crevice, bump, and grain on his form. 

“Hi, Grace!” He chirrups, sounding utterly exhilarated as he holds up a claw and splits it into the famous Vulcan greeting from Star Trek. “Surprise!” 

Thank god Grace put down his mug of coffee before preparing for a potential ambush, or the inventory would be down a cup. His jaw has long hit the floor in place of ceramic shards, eyebrows high as if pulled by a passing moon’s gravity. “You’re- you made a suit,” he sputters out.

“So Rocky can fix starvation of skin!” Rocky bounces and wiggles in place, the thin xenonite moving with him flexibly. He eagerly reaches out with his two front limbs. “Can hug properly now!” 

Grace stares. His ears heard it, but his brain could not comprehend the development. That being said, his heart definitely could, and it felt full enough to burst. 

He practically dives for Rocky and slams his full weight into him, knees colliding heavily with the floor. Rocky’s three back limbs counterbalance instantly, and the other two wrap tightly around his human. His claws grip into the fabric of Grace’s cardigan and stay there, keeping the man close against his body heat.

After months of being on the ship - technically years, but Grace didn’t count the coma for his own mental health - with absolutely no physical contact from another being bar a ball of xenonite, this hug was everything. 

It was tight, yet not enough for Grace’s deprived body. Every nerve was screaming from overwhelming warmth and pressure, but the idea of letting go only made Grace grip harder. He barely acknowledges he’s sobbing into the top of Rocky’s carapace; he’s too preoccupied trying to convince himself he isn’t dreaming. 

Rocky stays put, soft notes humming out of him in a gentle, soothing coo. He’s seen Grace cry before - that man had earned the title of ‘Leaky Space Blob’ after all - but this is different. It’s relief, it’s despair, it's everything the man has been silently yearning for in the depths of his subconscious. 

Rocky is more than content to stay where he was with Grace practically smothering him from his doubled-over position, all his strings cut and emotions raw. He would stay put for as long as Grace needs. He lifts one of his limbs from the floor and runs it through Grace’s hair. 

He pretends he doesn’t hear the high-pitched, wounded keening that leaves the human in a cathartic, emotional release.

______________________________________________________________

“How did you do this?” Grace asks. “This looks too thin- heck, it feels too thin to be safe for you.”

Rocky chitters, pleased. “Much trials and errors,” he says. “Important. Needed to make.”

Grace tightens his arms around Rocky for a moment before letting him go again. Well, kind of let him go, Rocky is lying over Grace’s legs with the man’s arms draped over his limbs. Yes, he was being a little clingy, but his entire nervous system was recovering from months of neglect. He needs this. 

“It means a lot,” he swallows back tears that threaten to have another revolution and overthrow his ability to see. He’s already shed enough to fill a water bottle or two. 

They’d moved to the dormitory once Grace felt reasonably steady to become a functioning human being again. (For those curious, it took a decent while for that to happen.) Now, he’s lying on his back atop the bedclothes with an Eridian carefully perched on his lower body as a steady source of contact. It seemed the small alien was enjoying the newfound freedom of touch without a ball getting in the way. 

One of Grace’s hands is being diligently studied by the Eridian. “Humans soft.” Rocky remarks, something like awe filtering through his musical tones as he delicately handles Grace’s fingers. “Too easy to damage.”

Grace snorts. “We can’t all be sentient canon balls, Rock.”

“What is ‘canon ball’, question?” 

“Projectiles we have on Earth. It was used in battle.”

“Rocky is terrifying space spider and dangerous ball, question?” 

Grace thinks of when Rocky first barged into the Hail Mary and proceeded to almost cause irreparable property damage to multiple items and devices within the ship. “Yes.” He states with a laugh. “You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

Rocky perks up. “Good reputation to have!” He prods at Grace’s fingers. “Better than leaky, squishy, space blob.” He pokes at the softer skin of the man’s side to further drive his point home.

Grace yips, batting Rocky’s claws away from his torso instinctively. “Hehey!”

Rocky jolts upright, removing himself from Grace’s legs. “Hurt? Grace hurt? Rocky hurt Grace?!” His voice flits up several octaves as he panics, hands tightly curled against his body to keep them far from his friend.

“No. No, no, you didn’t- hey, come back here, you silly goose. Stop freaking out.” Grace grasps one of Rocky’s retreating limbs and gently tugs him forward with an exasperated chuckle.

Rocky hesitantly steps closer, but doesn’t settle back down. Grace’s legs mourn the loss of their weighted blanket. “Grace make hurt noise,” he states. “Make same sound when burnt with solder iron.”

Grace sighs and sinks deeper into his mattress. He didn’t think this would be a topic he’d have to explain to aliens, but here we are.

“Humans have a pretty complex nervous system that has evolved to alert us when we’re in danger, specifically through touch. When you poked me, my body was telling me something was digging into a place where vital organs sit. The noise I made was just a byproduct of that.” 

Rocky considers this explanation, then makes a confused warble. “You laughed afterwards.”

Damn. Grace had been hoping Rocky didn’t catch that. 

“...Yeah.”

“Why, question?” 

“...It’s a human thing.”

“Explain. Grace live on Erid in future, need to know human biology.”

Well, no dodging the question now.

Grace sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It just tickled a bit, that’s all.”

“No understand word.”

Double damn. 

“...Tickling is when humans are touched in a certain way that makes us laugh. It’s attached to the nervous system thing, part of our fight or flight response.”

Rocky tilts his carapace and extends a claw to wiggle against Grace’s side again. The small squeak Grace lets out causes heat to flush his ears. Rocky chirps, delighted. “This make laughter on command!”

Grace opens his mouth to parry that point, only to gasp and fall into bouts of snickers when Rocky’s claws start prodding at his stomach insistently with both claws. “R-Rohohocky!” 

It’s been years, even more than he’s been on the Hail Mary, since he’s felt this sensation. The scuttling, electric sparks spread through his nerves, causing him to flail helplessly. His hands scrabble to both grab onto and bat away Rocky’s curious limbs. Neither tactic got him very far.

“Grace sound very happy,” Rocky informs him. Thank you, Rocky. We’d be lost without your keen observation skills. “Are all humans this sensitive?”

Grace makes a strangled, embarrassed noise in the back of his throat and tries to yank his legs up so he can curl into a ball and hide. 

“No, stay stationary. Rocky is not done exploring this.” Rocky’s claws grab onto Grace’s knees to simply push them away, only for Grace to yelp and kick his legs out. 

“Nononono- Rohohocky c’mohohon!”

Rocky chirps, curiosity singing through his melodic voice. “Tickles happen all over, question?” He inquires, his back hand squeezing Grace’s knee and thigh twice in place of stomping. 

“ROHOHOCK!” The hearty cackles that sprang forth like an exploded fire hydrant were answer enough.

Rocky scuttles and prods over the muscular limbs, little chirps of excitement emanating from the depths of his carapace with every new noise he draws from Grace. Scratching at the underside of the human's knees produced a series of breathy, unstoppable giggles that vividly reminded Rocky of the young Eridians back home with newly developed squeaks perpetrating their vocal cords. 

Rocky relays that thought to Grace, and the temperature of the human’s face increased dramatically. 

“Grace embarrassed, question? Sound cute.” Rocky reassures, wiggling his claws into Grace's lower abdomen. 

A flustered noise left the man, quickly buried behind his arms as he wriggled incessantly from the tickling. “E-Enohohough wihihith- my knees!” He pleads, the feather-light wisps of touch sending his brain into a haywire state of laughter. 

“That okay, plenty more to try!”

Grace feels pressure firmly lay across his legs, keeping them still despite their instinctive desire to kick. Rocky has become essentially deadweight, using his higher body mass to easily pin Grace to the bed. At first, his heartbeat kicked up in learned fear from being pinned down amongst dead grass, but the gentle touches and familiar warmth of the Eridian dashes his anxiety instantly. 

It was kind of hard to focus on the last memory of being pinned whilst Rocky's two front claws had taken to prodding all over the man’s torso. Light and experimental pinches being tossed in just for curiosity's sake. 

“Grace should have informed Rocky of this sooner, could’ve cheered you up easily,” Rocky says, mirth filling his voice as he takes in Grace’s blinding grin, flushed cheeks, and bubbling laughter. He made sure to keep his touch light, not wanting to accidentally hurt his friend; however, in doing so, the tickling was simply more unbearable. 

And as much as Grace's touch-starved body is relishing in this newfound, sorely missed companionship, it’s tiring quickly. 

“R-Rohohock! Plehehease! No- Nohoho mohohore!” Grace wheezes out a laugh before slumping back into the rumpled bedclothes, all fight disappearing and leaving him in a puddle of giggles. 

Rocky chirps, withdrawing his claws from Grace’s stomach. “This hurts, question?” He stomps his back foot into the mattress to punctuate his concern. 

“No, not at all.” Grace drapes an arm over his eyes and takes in grateful gulps of air, the last of his laughter shaking his chest. “Just overwhelming, bud. It’s been a long time.”

“But Grace is okay, question?”

The hollowness is gone. Grace’s cheeks hurt from smiling. He feels good. “Yeah.” The scientist reassures. “Better than okay. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a while.”

“Want me to do again, question?” 

Grace’s arm that’s draped over his eyes shoots down to preemptively cover his stomach, an embarrassed grin spreading across his face. “Uh- no, no, that kind of touch is usually for play. Kinda wanting to get some rest now, Rock.”

Rocky chirps, leaning a bit more into Grace’s chest, akin to a weighted blanket. He wraps his claws underneath Grace in a hug, while one reaches up to scratch through his hair. Grace practically melts, a blissful sigh heaving Rocky up and then down in a slump. 

“Better, question?”

“Yeh, feels n’ce,” Grace slurs out, eyelids long since closed, and wrapping his arms over Rocky’s warm, xenonite-enclosed form. It was like hugging a hot water bottle made of glass. Sleep was sneaking around the corner with a bat and a trip to Night Night Station. 

A claw slips down his scalp, scraping close to the skin of his ear. Grace flinches with a small grunt. The claw pauses.

“Grace is serious? Here as well, question?” The amusement is abundantly obvious. 

“Shut up,” Grace grumbles, gently taking Rocky’s front limb and guiding it back to his hair. 

Rocky chuckles. “Humans are very endearing. Will be doing this again, statement."

Grace rolls his eyes, trying to pretend there wasn’t a blush practically living on his ears now. Rocky let him dodge answering that. After all, he plans to use this newfound information to keep Grace’s spirits up. There would be plenty of time to prove to his friend that humans were loveable space blobs. 

“You sleep, I watch.” He murmurs, carefully scratching the man’s scalp in rhythmic patterns. 

Grace’s fingers intertwine with Rocky’s and squeeze. “Thanks, Rocky. …And thank you for fixing this. You’re a miracle worker.”

“Will always fix for Grace. Grace family, statement.” 

Grace squeezes a bit tighter, hoping Rocky understands the love being projected through the gesture. He pretends his voice isn’t choked up as he whispers, “You’re my family too. Statement.”

The rumblings of the Hail Mary almost match the lyrical purrs emitting from Rocky, sending Grace into the deepest sleep he’s had since being aboard. Safe. Protected. Loved.

[cacoonedmoonworm]

It’s Only Fair

Hello everyone! Wanted to do some lee Rocky for a change. I'm very indecisive about how Rocky is ticklish and how it works, there's just so many fun ideas and head cannon out there but I hope everyone enjoys!

Slight spoilers for movie and book!

Summary: Grace finds out Eridians can be ticklish too. He's very excited to get back at Rocky and hi-jinx ensue.

Ler!Grace / Lee!Rocky

Word count: 1,876

“Comoooon Rocky!” I say slouching over him dramatically, he easily holds me up and grumbles. “I told you all about human tickling, you can’t just not tell me about the Eridian version!” I look down at him with puppy eyes. “It's for science!”

He makes an annoyed sound and taps one of his legs. “…Fine. For science.” He moves backwards and shifts his carapace down, quickly causing me to fall to the floor. He does NOT seem as excited as I am about this.

“Oof, yay!” I scramble to sit back up next to him. I lean in close and I see him cower back a bit but settles into a sitting position. He takes a moment to start so I just start for him, I’ve got a bunch of questions waiting anyway. “So is it like touch that causes it for you guys? Or is it like vibrations with sound? Oh, do Eridians have certain “main” spots that are usually more ticklish than others like humans? Are you ticklish Rocky? Or is it—”

He holds up a claw, silencing me. “Eridians are affected by touch like humans. Yes, Eridians are affected by sound. Sudden change in frequency can cause “tickle” feeling. Eridians have common spot where touch more sensitive. Rough touch on carapace and legs. Soft touch on joints and vents.” Rocky stops and I sit staring waiting for him.

“…well?” I can’t help but find his embarrassment funny.

He grumbles and shifts around. “…yes. Rocky is ticklish.” He reluctantly answers.

I beam a smile at him “Can I try?” I reach a hand out in his direction. He squeaks and pulls away. Frowning, I start to argue “Rocky, I let you tickle me all the time. When you first found out, I let you tickle me “for science”. It’s only fair...and you conveniently decided NOT to tell me Eridians could be ticklish when you first found out about humans.” I pull my hand back a bit. I hope he doesn’t think I’m gonna hurt him or something.

“Grace no “let” Rocky tickle him. Grace too weak to fight Rocky off." He has a sassy tone. Ohhh he’s getting smart now. Okay.

“Oh yeah?” I creep forwards, my hands in claws. I wiggle my fingers towards him again. He staggers back again. We wait in the stand off for what feels like forever before I launch myself forward, arms wide to catch the alien. He scuttles away but I manage a strong grasp on one of his legs. Rocky lets out a yelp and tries to pull out of my grasp. Because he’s so much stronger than me, he just drags me across the floor face first.

“Ow-Rocky!” I pull my face up from the ground and shoot a hand up to where his leg meets his carapace, lacing my fingers into the joint. He squeals and stops pulling almost immediately.

“Grahahace! N-nohoho ah-thiHICKLES!” He trills out in high squeaky laughs. I take the chance to pull myself up in a sitting position, keeping my fingers along that joint. His legs go weak and is struggling to keep the body off the ground. I snicker at him, his laugh is high pitched and cute. I don’t hear him full on laugh very often. His shell is smooth, not as rough or grainy as you would think.

“Sooo what were you saying about me being weak? Hmm?” I tease as he swats helplessly at my hand. For having four extra legs, they don’t seem to be helping all that much.

“Apohology, a-apohoHOLOGY!” He squeals out frantically. This is adorable. It’s nice to see him relax a bit, he can be so bossy.

I keep my one hand firmly around his leg but let my hand travel up. I scratch roughly at his carapace, too tough for a human at least. My blunt nails scrape and claw along his side and it must be working because his laugh jumps up a bit.

“GRAHACE WHAhahait sehehcond!” He twists and pulls hard against me now. I wrap my legs around him and pull his body closer to mine, almost in a hug. I cross my legs and let him rest in my lap as he continues to squirm about. I let my hands come to a stop, resting them on top of his carapace. Some residual giggles come out as he states “Grahace is mehean human.” I giggle at him with a smile.

“Not as evil as this!” I shoot my hands to his vents and softly glide my fingers over the ridges and holes in his skin. He squeals loudly, and hits himself into my chest. The edges of the vents aren’t sharp but more rounded off to my surprise. He squirms and wiggles, his claws just grabbing on desperately to my clothes but not doing much else. I take a good look at his vents as I pull one hand away to scratch at one of his joints again and it gives me another evil idea. You know? Maybe Rocky was right, I am an evil human.

“Give me a sec rock. I have an idea!” I roll him off my lap with a clunk and head over to my bed.

“W-whahat, question?” He seems relieved that the tickling has stopped but just as worried about what I could possibly be thinking about doing. He continues to lay on the floor where I left him, recomposing himself.

“You’ll see!” I say in a sing-song voice. I grab a pair of scissors on my way over and cut a small hole into one of my pillows. I dig around and pull out a feather, one not too small. I’ll sew that back up later.

I plop back down in front of him and re-pull him into my lap. He jumps at the touch but settles down. A pair of arms wrapped around my middle while the other lay off the sides of my legs. His carapace is nestled into my stomach, he’s in the perfect position. “What is that, question?” He taps on the floor to get a better view of the small object.

“It’s a feather! It comes off of certain animals on Earth!” I hold it closer to him.

“Humans put animal parts into sleeping cushion question? Humans gross.” His answer has a hint of disgust to it as he pulls away slightly from the feather.

“No, no. Well yes but not as much anymore. Also, they are clean by the way. Not gross.” I roll my eyes as I lower the feather towards his carapace. “Let me know how this feels! Like an experiment! Feathers are soft, I don’t know if you’ll even be able to feel it.” I slide the feather over his vents, like I did with my fingers and the reaction is instant. He squeals, shooting upwards into the feather more. His arms wrapped around my middle tighten and I feel his claws grip onto the back of my shirt.

“GRAHACE NOHOHO-AHAH! I-I FEEHEHEL IHIHIT!” He cackles, his carapace moving every way. I laugh along with him, circling a hole in his vents making him twitch.

“Whahat does it feel like, Rock?” Suddenly his other legs are pushing against my lap desperately.

“T-TIHIHihickles! Ihihit tihihickles!” He yelps out.

“Oh really? I couldn’t tell!” I dip the feather into a vent as I giggle at his response. He screams, like I thought I hurt him type of sound but he continues to cackle like there’s no tomorrow. He squirms hard, pushing and pulling against me. I’m about to stop when—oops.

“Uhhh Rocky? I might have done something.” I don’t know if he is even comprehending what I’m saying to him at this point. The feather slipped out of my hand and is now sitting in his vent. I try to grab at it but it just shifts deeper into the crevice with all the Rocky’s wiggling. I stick a finger into the vent, trying to pinch it between the side of the hole and my finger to pull it up with friction but I can’t quite reach it. Rocky jerks harder against me with the new stimulation. “Sooo the feather might have fallen into one of your vents…the hole is too small for me to grab with my fingers.” I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. I’m not even touching him anymore and he’s desperately moving, twitching and jerking around, laughing frantically. Every time he squirms, he moves the feather so in turn he’s just tickling himself now.

I’m actually more worried about his vents possibly closing shut and what issues that would cause. “GRAHACE REMohohve o-object nohOHOW!” He squeals, his arms slowing to a stop. He’s laying there, I think trying not to move so I run he doesn’t tickle himself more. I can definitely use this against him in the future.

“Okay, okay but you have to let me go! I need to go grab tweezers or something!” I smile as I push at him. It seems to take some will power but he unlatches his claws from my shirt and I shift him to the floor making him laugh harder. “Try not to move your vents. If you close the one with the feather I won’t be able to get it out.” All I get in response is a soft whine mixed with loud laughter. I jog over to the lab and grab a pair of tweezers and come back.

Rocky has shifted two arms to hold close to his vents, while he lays there giggling. I kneel next to him and pull off the two claws holding his vents. His claws just migrate to clinging desperately on to my wrists instead.

“GRAHahace! Ah-Plehehease!”. Wow, he never says please.

“I am! Hold still!” I push up my glasses up my nose and hold him as tightly as I can as I carefully grab at the feather. It takes a few tries but I eventually pull it out. Rocky collapses on the floor, giggles flowing out of him. I place the tweezers and feather next to me on the floor as I sit down and rub Rocky’s carapace soothingly. “Sorry bud. I didn’t mean to drop it.” He doesn’t respond and I worry a bit. I probably did take it too far even if it was an accident. I pull him close, “Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

“Yes.” Is all I get from him. I sigh and pull away a bit but suddenly I’m being pushed to the floor. Rocky standing over me.

“Rocky get revenge.” He says in a low growling tone. Claws hold my arms to my sides.

“W-what!? Hold on—“ he picks up the abandoned feather and waves it in front of my face. He shifts and pulls my arms above my head.

“Human feather ticklish, question?” I know he already knows the answer but I try to lie anyway.

“N-no! Not at all, actually.” I gulp as I struggle against his arms. I feel anticipation flutter in my stomach and a wobbly smile spreads across my face.

“Grace lie.” He says amused. Rocky pulls up my shift and shoves the end of the feather into my belly button.

“Rohoky noho! Ihim S-SOHOHORRY—“

[ticklishbeans4]

Tickling Teachings

I'm terrible at titles, I'm so sorry. Enjoy the fic tho!

Grace teaches Rocky about tickling, and quickly regrets it.

Word count: 1,982

It was movie night again on the Hail Mary, and Grace had picked one his absolute favorites, Coraline. Now explaining animation to Rocky hadn't really been to hard. He understood that humans often make visual art on 2D platforms, usually still lifes. He'd been quite impressed really, when he learned the process of making 2D animation. Other types of animation were similarly easy, 3D animation, CGI, rotoscope, and plenty more.

Claymation did throw him for a bit of a loop. The idea of slowly moving the figure bit by bit, and taking pictures of it to simulate movement seemed very odd to him. Though they did have something almost similar on Erid, but they used internal robotics to move flexible materials around. Or they just used straight up puppetry, Grace wasn't sure if Rocky just really liked puppets, or if puppets were just popular on Erid.

Still, Rocky seemed to enjoy the movie so far. Some of subtle details probably went over his head, given he couldn't see the colors of the movie. Right now they were at the scene where Coraline sees the Other Garden for the first time. It was one of Grace's favorite scenes. All the little details, how beautiful the garden itself looked, it was just so cool!

But as Coraline went down, laughing as the snap dragons bit playfully at her, Rocky trilled in alarm. "Grace say scary parts later! But Coraline being eaten! Bad bad bad! Why Coraline laughing, question!?"

"What? What are you talking about?" He asked, chuckling a bit in confusion. "They're not eating her-" not yet technically "-they're tickling her."

"New word! What mean, question?" Rocky asked, stomping twice and leaning in curiously.

"What? Tickling? It's uh… Hm… Ok do you want the long answer or the short answer? And can it wait till the movie's over?" He asked, waiting patiently for Rocky to think it over.

Rocky let out a soft hum of thought, swaying side to side inn thought. "Long answer, after movie."

"Alright." He nodded, turning his attention back to the screen.

~

After the movie was done (Rocky did actually seem pretty freaked out by the whole thing, which was a bit amusing and surprising) they returned to the dorm area. Grace was getting ready to get to bed when Rocky piped up from his ball. "Grace answer question now?" "Huh? Oh! Yeah! Yeah, one sec." He nodded, finishing up with brushing his teeth and getting into his comfy clothes. He grabbed the laptop too, just in case they needed more detail.

"Ok, so, tickling is a common human trait. About 77% of the human population is ticklish." He explained to Rocky. "It's the act of a soft, or buzzy, or crawly sensation on certain parts of the body. These sensations often cause a laughter response. Some theories suggest we evolved the trait to protect vital organs, or tell if we had bugs on us in vulnerable spots. Different areas on the human body can have differing levels of sensitivity." "Like where, question?" Rocky asked, shuffling slightly closer. His full attention on Grace. He loved to learn new human things, especially when it came to their very odd biology.

"Like our necks, ears, the bottoms of our feet, or under our arms. A lot of the torso too, like out stomachs or ribs. But it depends on the person. I knew a guy who had ticklish shoulders, which is not a common spot." He pointed to each spot on his body for Rocky to 'see'. "Some people are more ticklish in certain spots than others, some people like it, some people hate it. Sometimes how they're tickled can change how they react as well." Rocky nodded his carapace, an action he picked up from Grace. "Rocky understand. But why humans laugh question?" "We… don't really know." he shrugged, "The leading theory is that laughter is a panic response. We laugh to show submission when delicate or vulnerable spots are put under 'attack' by a outside force. Maybe it just kept evolving to adapt to other things, when we stopped needing to fear bugs crawling on us so much."

Rocky shook his 'head' in another movement he got from Grace, "Humans strange strange strange. Eridian's don't have…" but he paused, seeming to think about something. "Eridian's don't have…?" he prompted, scooting a bit closer curiously. "Rocky, can Eridian's be ticklish?"

"No." Rocky answered, but it was a bit to quick.

Grace laughed and shook his ball playfully, "Liar! Come on, tell me! If you don't I'm just gonna keep asking you every day a bazillion times a day!"

"Grace cannot say things that many times in one day." Rocky deflected, "Is Grace ticklish, question?"

"No clue." he shrugged, "I don't remember. It's definitely possible though. But that doesn't answer my question! Can Eridians be ticklish? Are you ticklish?" Rocky grumbled and did little stomps of thought, "…It not same."

"AH-HA!" he cried, poking at the ball, "So you admit it!"

"IT NOT SAME!" he cried, trilling much higher than usual. "It very very very different!"

"Rocky is ticklish! Rocky is ticklish!" Grace teased in a sing song. "How does it work on Erid?"

Rocky stomped and turned around, essentially turning his back to Grace. "Not telling. Grace bully Rocky! Grace mean."

Grace flopped to his side with a whine, "Awwww! Come oooooon! Tell me! Pleeeeeeeease? Pretty please? With sprinkles on top?"

"No. Not care sprinkles! Rocky not tell Grace!" Rocky insisted, curling his legs under his carapace. "Rocky never tell Grace!"

"Please please please please please please!" he pleaded, dramatically crawling to Rocky's ball, and hauling himself up to flop over it. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease! Pleeeeeeeeease!"

Rocky let out a low annoyed note, wiggling back and forth to get him off. "Ugh! Fine! Grace get off Rocky ball!"

Grace laughed and he slid off, throwing his hands in the air. "Whoo-hoo!"

Rocky grumbled and stomped, it was a bit new to Grace, but he was pretty sure Rocky was flustered. Which was adorable. He curled his legs closer to him, hunkering down a bit. "Eridians use… sound. High and low frequencies in random rhythm. Works best when very close, used mostly on pebbles when playing. But not on Rocky! Never work on Rocky! Rocky to tough!"

"Can you show me?" Grace asked, scooting closer. "I'm really curious about this. After all, what are the odds that two completely different species from totally different solar systems, could both have tickling as part of their evolution!"

Rocky seemed to think about it for a moment, before pressing himself against Grace's side. "Fine, you feel. See if it work on leaky space blob too."

Grace hummed, he supposed it was only fair, on the name of science. He wondered what it would feel like, he didn't even know if he was ticklish, much less if an aliens version of tickling could work on him. So he pressed himself a little closer, anticipatory butterflies in his stomach. Which was probably an indicator that he was actually ticklish.

Rocky started with a high pitch, it didn't feel like much, it was similar to the slight buzzing of a kazoo on his lips. It dipped quickly into a low pitch that was more like a cats purr. It didn't seem to tickle much at first, it did feel a bit funny though.

He was a bit disappointed, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Did he want it to tickle? Maybe he liked being tickled and just missed it? Or maybe he was just expecting it to feel different and was disappointed his hypothesis was wrong.

But as Rocky kept going, trilling up and down, the sound got a bit louder and the buzzing got a bit stronger. A smile was pulling at his the corners of his lips, against his will mind you. It felt… more? He wasn't sure how to describe it. Less of a surface level buzzing, more like it was starting to get into the nerves uder his skin.

He fought down the giggles that were rising in his chest. Ok, he was definitely ticklish, and this was definitely starting to tickle. But by god could not let Rocky know that. Grace would never know peace again if Rocky found out. He was very much regretting agreeing to this. But also kinda not, cause this was actually pretty fun.

Rocky kept going, nudging more into Grace's side as the pitch went up and it felt like someone was pressing a buzzy brush to his side. He couldn't kept the snort that left his mouth, and he quickly pulled away. "Ok! Ok that's enough experimenting for tonight!"

"It work!" Rocky cheered, doing jazz hands. "Rocky tickle Grace! Grace ticklish!"

"No!" He squeaked out, clearing his throat as his face heated up. He tried to lower his voice, "No, I'm not. It just felt weird."

"Grace ticklish! Grace ticklish!" He sang, much in the teasing way Grace had been doing to him earlier. Petty jerkwad.

"Am not!" He protested, even if it sounds more like he was whining. "Shut up, it's time for bed anyways."

"Grace bad liar, Grace ticklish!" He teased, coming closer, making the higher pitched sound. Which now sounded rather threatening.

"H-Hey! No! Back off!" He yelped, grabbing a pillow and smacking at Rocky's ball. It was ineffective. "Stay back! I'm warning you!"

Rocky just kept trying to press against him, trilling at the pitch that made Grace laugh before. Grace squealed and jumped away, tumbling off the bed with a crash. "Uuuugh…"

Rocky beep loudly in worry, thumping off the bed and rushing to Grace's side. "Grace ok, question?!"

"Ugh… Grace is fine." he groaned, sitting up and rolling his shoulder. Yup, he was alright, might be a little sore tomorrow, but he'd be alright.

"Good good good." Rocky wiggled happily, rolling between Grace's leg and pressing against his stomach. Only to start up the Tickle Frequency (patent pending) again.

"AH! ROCKY!" he yelped, folding in on himself, which just pressed him closer to Rocky. It was like someone was holding his belly to one of those buzzy massage things. "NOHOHO! CUT IT OHOHOUT!"

Grace very very very ticklish!" Rocky teased, buzzing meanly.

It really really really tickled, like, so bad! It was all encompassing through his belly, even reaching to his sides and the bottoms of his ribs. Grace was pinned to the wall of the dorm, and with Rocky pressed against him, he couldn't wiggle to either side away from him. He was stuck!

"KN-KNOHOHOCK IT OFF!" he squealed, smacking uselessly at Rocky's xenonite ball. The sensations were quickly overwhelming, he was apparently VERY ticklish and an absolute baby about it. Fun fact to learn about himself.

Rocky giggled but pulled back, after one more extra long buzzy trill. "Grace ticklish ticklish ticklish! Most ticklish human Rocky ever meet." Grace was all but limp against Rocky's ball, "Ha. Ha. Ha. You're sooooo funny."

"Rocky knows." the little bully chirped, clearly all to pleased with himself right now.

"I'm gonna find a way to tickle you back, and wipe the smug look off your face." he warned, flopping over as Rocky rolled away from him.

"Rocky does not have face." he pointed out, making Grace roll his eyes.

"Meh meh meh meh." Grace mocked from the floor, squeaking as Rocky buzzed against his side. "Okahay! Ok! Geez! I didn't realize I was living with a tickle monster!"

Rocky wiggled happily, "Yes! Rocky is monster of tickle! Now Grace sleep, Rocky watch."

"Yeah yeah, Mr.Bossy." he chuckled, climbing back up onto the bed as Rocky rolled away to get into his side of the dorm.

Grace sighed and laid back, sleep already pulling at his eye lids after the tickle attack. His final thought as he drifted, was that this trip to Erid was about to get much more chaotic.

[as-the-crows-feather-falls]

New Xenonite spacesuit means better snuggled with your best friend, this new thing he calls ‘skritches,’ and a secret third thing…

[ticklishbeans4]

THIS SO STINKIN CUTE!!!!!! AMAZE AMAZE AMAZE!!!!

[wolfythewitch]

grace rocky bonding

[sleepysheepytea]

i'm here to harass yall more

IM SORRY I STILL DONT KNOW HOW TO DRAW ROCKY

pls they are all i can think of

I HAVE BEEN ABSOLUTELY FEASTING ON PHM CONTENT YALL I AM ACTUALLY SO HAPPY I LOVE IT SM