#hand tickling

[magnus-darkmode]

When it comes to proving who is the better tickle monster, Hector is... always outclassed. 😔

[mill-icious]

I can't get the bed of feathers from that other post out of my head! Maybe writing a small fic about it would help?

And some complementary doodles, because I've set a precedence with my first fic

🔞 Minors and ageless blogs: DNI please 🔞

Bed

Summary: Set in the Hadestown AU, in an alternate ending where Eurydice!Mill did get out of Hell. Orpheus!Steve delivers on the wedding bed he promised. His lover is reluctant to get in for a couple of reasons.

Word count: ~1.2k

Includes: Implications of (past) sexual assault, implications of (past) dubcon sex, angst/comfort, upper body tickling, cheer up tickles

"What's wrong?" Steve asks. "Don't you want to join me?"

"Noth— Yes, I do!" Mill stammers in response. "It's just..." Their words trail off as they examine the carpet of feathers at their feet. Steve has already gotten in without an issue. Mill, however, has just realised that they've never told him that they re ridiculously ticklish.

Steve has noticed them sometimes shrinking away from his touch before, sure! But they've always blamed that on past experiences with people who didn't take no for an answer. Mill knows it's incredibly silly that they've managed to open up to Steve about their traumas, yet can't even disclose this maddeningly simple quirk of their body.

They also know that he'll get worried if they don't get in the bed of feathers he made for them. Mill takes a deep breath through the nose and makes their way to join their husband.

Naturally, the feathers are remarkably soft under their bare feet. Mill is careful to walk through them without making the journey too ticklish. Still, they have to choke down the giddiness slowly rising within them. In a few seconds, they sit and lie down next to Steve. That's getting them a ridiculous amount of feathers stuck in their hair, but Mill doesn't care. As promised, this bed is so fluffy; they might as well be on a cloud—dare we say the ninth type, even.

"You like it?" Steve asks.

"Yes," Mill replies with a content sigh, slowly settling themself in.

"You seem a little tense," Steve remarks, worried.

"Am I?" Mill is a little surprised, and a little embarrassed, that he noticed.

"Well, you seemed hesitant to get in," Steve explains, "and I want to assure you that I'll never do anything that you don't want me to." He carefully picks off a few feathers from his lover's hair, which has grown so much since it's been cut up to just above their shoulders.

Mill knows Steve is alluding to the very man—well, god—who did the cutting and several other things, to mark his, now forfeited, ownership. "I know, love," they reply. "I trust you." Why else would they have followed him out of Hell?

Steve's lips tighten into a thin line, not thoroughly convinced. "Then please," he says as he plucks another particularly large feather and gently runs it down Mill's cheek, "tell me what would make you feel more at ease."

Warmth rushes to Mill's face; they immediately bury it in their hands. He doesn't know; they know he did that on a pure whim, because they're both covered in feathers—so how could he not?! In any case, this is the perfect moment to tell him, and yet...

"Mill?" Steve asks, bemused to see them so flustered so suddenly.

They count to three lest they worry him with any further stalling. "You nailed it right on the head," they mutter. They dare to peek between their fingers to see his reaction.

Steve gives them a quizzical look. In his daze, he's still holding up the feather. "How?" He asks. "With this?"

Mill simply nods; their hands have slid down to now only cover their mouth.

The corner of Steve's lips curls. He extends a hand. Mill places theirs in his. He brings it to his lips and kisses their knuckles.

"So..." Steve says coyly. "You're ticklish?"

It's a valid and simple question, still Mill blushes and nods.

Steve slowly drags the feather on the back of their hand. "And you like this?"

Another burst of heat darkens the shade of Mill's cheeks. Their hand stays over their mouth but doesn't really succeed at hiding their smile as they nod again.

His feather slows to a stop. "And you didn't tell me?" Steve asks coyly though there is a hint of betrayal. He thought there were no more secrets between them.

"I wasn't— I've been meaning to tell you!" Mill quickly explains. "I just— I was building up the courage."

Steve's smile returns. "The courage?" He asks as his feather resumes its dance on Mill's hand.

Their face grows hotter. "Um, well, yes. It's just..." Mill stammers, unable to maintain eye contact, as they cover their growing smile.

"Yes?" Steve grins, finding them very cute like this. He flips Mill's hand over and drags the feather across their upturned palm.

"A-ah!" Mill squeaks. Their fingers flex and curl as if to close into a fist but resist the urge to do so.

Deeply amused, Steve chuckles. The feather slowly makes its way up their wrist. Mill giggles and nearly retracts their arm. Since they haven't really, Steve lingers on that tender spot on the inside of their forearm, earning more sounds of his lover's delight. He brings their hand up to give their knuckles another kiss, then teasingly remarks,

"You still haven't explained yourself, love."

"I knohohohow!" Mill giggles in acknowledgment, their face blatantly flushed in their poor attempt to cover it with just one hand.

Steve smirks. The feather slows to a halt as he coyly mutters, "Maybe I should stop then."

"No!" Mill protests too quickly, much to their own dignity's dismay. "Please... Don't stop."

Steve is surprised by this reaction. He drops his teasing tone to ask, "You really like it that much?"

Mill's face is hot under their palm as they cover their eyes in flustered shame. "Yes," they quietly utter. "It's... soft. It-it feels nice. Really nice." They swallow. "It's you."

Steve grows silent. He knows whom they're alluding to. He'll never ask for the details of what happened inside Hades' office, when Mill signed their life away. Their shame and regret tell him enough.

Mill consented, yes, on literal paper. There was no passion in the act though. They would never have wanted it that way, but those were the conditions for everlasting life in the Underworld. It didn't hurt, as the King promised. Still, His touch was cold and rough. It was liberating yet suffocating.

Mill is free now. No drop of His ichor remains in them. Still, they can't shake off that memory.

"It's ridiculous, I know!" Mill groans in embarrassment. "How could something so childish make me feel this good?" Steve remains silent. The feather has stopped touching their arm. They can only assume he's staring at them in disbelief. "But it just does! I don't know how to eheeheeheehee—!"

A soft fluttering under their arm interrupts their thoughts. Mill opens their eyes to see Steve staring back at them with a small smirk. He still has their hand, holding it up even while he wiggles the feather in their armpit.

"Steveheheheehee!?" Mill cries out in gleeful confusion, only making a half-hearted attempt to lower their elbow in defence.

"Enough sulking," Steve simply states, though he is beaming to see his lover smile. "This is a time to be merry." He drops the feather and gently scribbles his fingers on their ribs.

With a squeal of laughter, Mill pulls themself against Steve, wrapping their arms behind his neck to grant him uninterrupted access to their body. Thus, his curious fingers fondly explore every sensitive centimetre of them. All the while, Mill makes mirthful music under the playful strokes of the musician.

The End

[raybidtickles]

A fun little invention idea that I had that Xana would definietly make. Dr. Sung, head of Xana Labs' security, was nice enough to volunteer for the demonstration!

The palms are such an underrated spot and I thought it would be fun to make something that fully focused on it ;3

[archived-fbn]

can you write luther getting tickles? i know hes not a favorite but i could write an essay on how complex his character is and i cant help but feel for him,,,

Mr.I’mNotTicklish

Day three: unusual tickle spot

Fandom: TUA

Ship: none

Warnings: none

———-

“I told you guys I’m not ticklish.” Luther said triumphantly as the rest of his siblings tried to tickle him. Klaus pouted. “C’moooooon! This isn’t fair. Why can’t you be as ticklish as Five? That’d be waaaaay more fun.” Klaus groaned. “H-hey!” Five protested but before he could say anything more he was cut of by Diego tweaking his rib.

“You guys can keep trying but as I keep saying, I’m not ticklish anywhe-AH!” Luther curled in on himself and pulled his hand towards his chest. Allison, who had his hand, gave an evil smirk.

“So, Mr.I’mNotTicklish, what was that sound you just made?” Allison teased. Luther rubbed his hand. “You just surprised me. That’s all.”

“Oh really?” Vanya started teasing too. “If you don’t mind, Luther, may I have your hand?” She smirked. Luther nodded and reluctantly gave her his left hand.

Vanya used her nails to trace the lines in his palm. Luther easily pulled his hand away but the giggles he let out were priceless.

“You’re ticklish!” Klaus exclaimed. The siblings all cheered and shouted while Luther’s face started heating up. Finally he gave in with a sigh.

“Alright. I’ll admit it. I’m ticklish. But that’s the only place that’s sensitive. I don’t want any of you to do that ever again, understand?” All of the Academy kids nodded, still smiling. Luther thought he was in the clear till he felt someone skitter their fingers up his palm. He jumped back and looked down for the culprit. To his surprise he saw Five. With a shit eating grin the boy teleported away.

“Guys, I think I know who we need to get next.” Luther smiled as the family split up to look for the mischievous brother.

[lemonsandstrawberries]

Coal

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Steve is having an art block and tries to overcome it, pushing himself too hard. Tony comes to help with soft touches and comfort.

length: 732 words

a/n: a sweet moment between Tony and Steve. not much to add here!

————–

Coal

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Charcoal staining his fingers. A pearly white canvas, slowly turning darker, filling with shapes and life.

Usually, it was the most soothing thing in the world for him.

Usually.

Steve hissed when another sharp pang of pain shook his wrist. His fingers clenched on the piece of charcoal, crumbling it into pieces. It was okay, he had plenty of charcoal. What was worse, was the thick black line going down his whole sketch.

Steve cursed silently and ripped out the piece of paper from the sketchbook, the easel making a sound of protest when it wobbled under the strong push. Steve knew better and treated his art supplies and equipment with more respect, but there was something about today that was really unnerving.

"Uhmmm… Baby?"

"Yeah?" Steve answered sharply, putting a new piece of charcoal against the white paper. He was running out of ideas what to sketch but was hoping that the paper and charcoal would guide him.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked, cautiously making his way through Steve's art studio. He twirled between numerous ripped out pages, filled with black smudges, wondering about their purpose.

"Art block," Steve answered shortly, "need to draw myself out of it," he added in monotone. His sketch was shaping up and Steve was almost pleased with it when another wave of pain made his wrist jump. "Agh!" another hiss, another smudge. Another ruined sketch. Before he could rip this one out too, a hand was put on his charcoal holding wrist.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked quietly, pressing his front against Steve's back, wrapping the other man in a hug.

"Nothing," Steve sighed, rubbing the remains of charcoal between his fingertips. "Just some pain."

"Yeah, you did a lot of sketches today," Tony hummed in understanding, taking Steve's wrist and dusting his fingers off from the charcoal remains.

"Unfinished," Steve grunted in an offended tone, "doesn't count."

"I think it counts," Tony said gently, and Steve watched him, or more specifically, watched Tony's hand. The way Tony's fingers straightened up his hand and Tony's other hand cupped it from the back. A thumb applying soothing pressure to the middle of his palm. It felt nice. Fingers stroking up his dirty fingers, and Steve watched Tony's fingertips turning black from the charcoal remains. Then down, fingertips grazing the thin skin of the inside of his palm and Steve's lips quirked into a small smile. Some soft scratches on his inner wrist and Steve sighed in content, the pleasant ticklish feeling relaxing him. He let Tony take charge and enjoyed his other hand getting a soothing massage, a smile not leaving his lips. It was relaxing and the gentle ticklish feeling was just lovely and doing wonders for his aching muscles. Tony's hands felt warm and soft, but there was some strength to them developed from hours of working with hot metal, something Steve found really exciting about his lover. He felt Tony's breath on his neck and the way his torso was rising up and down with every exhale and inhale. It was really nice. Being so close and intimate in an innocent way was really nice.

"There," Tony ended the massage by interlacing his fingers with Steve's and stretching them gently apart, rotating their knuckles together for a short while. "It should be better now."

"Thanks, babe," Steve turned around a bit, smiling gratefully at his boyfriend. He really did feel better. Tony smiled back, and after a short but affectionate peck of lips, he was gone, off to his business and leaving Steve alone in his artistic world.

This time, Steve was softer. He put the ruined page away and caressed the clean one. With tender care, he picked up a new piece of charcoal. His wrists didn't hurt so much anymore and the dark clouds above him parted, making his thoughts clearer and sharper.

"Let's make some good art together," he smiled to the white page, knowing what he wanted to draw. Line by line, shadow after shadow, minute after minute, the image came to life. Two hands interlaced together, one smaller with sturdy fingers and darker skin tone, the other one a bit bigger with longer fingers, looking more rough on the edges. Tony's and his hand. Steve gave an approving nod, putting some more shadows on the sketch and feeling that his art block was finally gone.

[raybidtickles]

Tickletober Day 28: Unusual Spot

Okay I've been forgetting to post my prompts the past few days.

Louis has terribly ticklish palms and hand tickles are so underrated!

...also someone apparently stole his hat lol