⤷ tags: ler!henry creel, lee!reader, merciless tickling, telepathic restraints?, 1k words
⤷ prompt: "could i request another fic with henry? (maybe this one being a bit more spicer than the last? 🙈) i just need to see him as that intimidating, merciless ler during a tickle session. he would not pull any punches, especially since he has powers and can easily overpower his lee…"
“henry, i said i was sorry.”
“sorry doesn’t cut it, sweetheart,” he mused as your hands shot up instinctively beside your head, offering surrender.
he did not accept.
the way henry stalked towards you, eyes wide in anger, each step radiating power- it made you shiver in anticipation. you knew he would be entirely merciless. you knew he wouldn’t stop until he was completely satisfied.
it excited you.
your back hit the cold plaster of the wall and you grunted, the recoil almost sending you straight into henry’s arms. he smirked, calm composure unravelling you even more. his posture stiffened into a confident stance. you swallowed thickly, and he fucking chuckled at you.
“come on, now,” he spoke, his voice echoing with a soft ring around the room. “don’t make this hard.”
you averted henry’s intense gaze. his eyes flitted over your torso, before licking his lips with a renewed passion.
“henry, please don’t,” nervous giggles sprouted out of you, but he only seemed to be encouraged by the sound.
“don’t what?” he tilted his head in mock curiosity.
you whined. he was clearly screwing with you. “you know what.”
you could read his body language well enough to know that henry was getting impatient. he was done with the foreplay. he headed straight for you, towering over you as you shrunk under his gaze.
“look at me, sweetheart,” he pressed his index finger under the crease of your chin, slowly lifting it so you met two pale blue, teasing pupils.
his fingers met your sides, before scurrying up to your ribcage, tickling with precision. your hands shielded your rosy pink face, attempting to somehow fold your body into two, curling into henry’s chest. when you buried your face into his warmth, he let out a low laugh, the vibration of his chest travelling from his throat to your core.
“aww, baby, is this too much for you?” he laughed along with you, occasionally fluttering his fingers on your neck and relishing in the squeaky giggles it elicited. “can you keep your arms up for me, please?”
you whimpered, but slowly raised your arms up to sit behind the back of your head. fuck. the feeling of impending doom hit you hard and fast. this was how you were going to die. tickled to death by fuckin’ henry creel.
“are you ready?” he whispered darkly, and you quivered, nervous as hell.
he started off slow, nimble fingers working their way around your tensed stomach, shaking from concealed laughter. crawling their way up your sides. you had to fight the immense urge to curl into a ball, hands still desperately tugging onto your hair.
“fuhuhck,” you groaned when his fingers reached that one spot where your ribcage ended and met your armpit. henry sensed the weakness there, suddenly digging in with a newfound mercilessness. you tried to hold on, really did. but your arms somehow found themselves tangled around your torso, as you burst into hiccuping laughter, body shrinking into itself on the floor.
henry couldn’t help but laugh at your dramatic reaction, but he wasn’t done with you yet. not by a long mile.
“do you need help keeping your arms up, sweetheart?” he questioned, a teasing tilt to his tone.
you shook your head frantically. you knew what that meant. unfortunately for your ticklish self, he decided to ignore you. your hands began to lift themselves up, high, high up above your head, leaving your shirt riding up your waist and your back to the wall, sitting petulantly on the ground. a trail of blood drizzled down henry’s nose.
“plehease,” you tugged on your trapped hands.
“you should know by now, that begging does nothing but make this worse for you,” henry snarked as his hands sneaked under your shirt, clawing at the bare skin underneath.
there was no way to describe the ludicrously ticklish sensation that embarked upon you. you tried bucking your hips, shaking your head, kicking your legs- anything to dislodge the unbearable feeling of his thumbs drilling into every sensitive spot on your body.
henry ensured that you were at your breaking point before he finally ceased, not a single part of your torso left unexploited nor unexplored. his fingers left a ticklish trail in their wake, mouth kissing a sloppy path down your neck. you whimpered as he finally released your hands, his own going to his nose to wipe away the bloody path of evidence while you let out leftover giggles.
“now, what have we learned today?” henry put his hands on his hips, looking at you expectantly.
your mind went blank. you’d forgotten what you did in the first place.
this is fuckin’ ridiculous, you thought, as a force pulled your wrists high, high up above your head once more.
hey there! listed below is my fandoms list <3 i usually like to write reader/self/oc inserts! (bold and italic; biggest BIGGEST interest(s) as of rn, bold; my current interests, normal; i like and am willing to write for, italics; i also like, but am unlikely to write for)
// last updated : may 19th 2024
the owl house
bugsnax
stranger things
red dead redemption 2
stardew valley
marvel, first phase of movies (primarily focused on loki atm)
loki (tv show)
slay the princess
poppy playtime (all chapters)
doors (roblox game)
the maze runner
undertale
deltarune
steven universe
sanders sides
ace attorney
bfdi, bfdia, bfb, etc (humanized forms)
avatar the last airbender
the henry stickmin collection
original characters
the backrooms (would most likely be a group of survivors, not entities themselves, therefore original characters)
Fight Scene
Prompt: "I'm not going to say this!" / "Oh, I see now. You're just ticklish."
Characters: Jade West, reader (romantic)
Summary: When you are partnered with Jade for a drama project, things were always bound to get interesting – and it doesn’t help that you’re definitely probably crushing on her.
Warnings: fluff, mentions of breakup
Words: 1946
A/N: for the gays :’) I have been binge watching victorious in quarantine and falling back in love with jade west so welcome to my very first romantic fic! I really enjoyed writing this and there will probably be a part 2. I hope you enjoy!
“I’m not going to say this!”
You glared at Jade, the script you two were supposed to be working on scrunched up in your right hand.
“Boring,” she replied, indifferent. You scoffed, straightening out the piece of paper.
“Maia says, ‘Look, Valerie, it's Trek Boliver, that horrible criminal that ruined my life!’ –”
“I don’t see what’s so bad about it!” Jade cut you off.
You gave her a pointed look, continuing, “And then Valerie says, ‘Wow, Maia, we should kill him!’” You crushed the paper back up.
Jade hesitated, then shrugged. “What’s the problem?”
You knew she was just trying to get on your nerves, but you had an entire scene performance due tomorrow, and you were getting frustrated.
“Come on, West, you’re obviously trying to get back at Beck.” Jade let out a loud, sarcastic laugh.
“I dumped him, Y/L/N, why would I be trying to get back at him?”
“Because you miss him? You guys were together for years – you know you’re allowed to miss him, right?”
For the first time since you’d started this project, Jade fell silent. Her eyes were locked on the ground in front of her.
After almost a minute of silence, you decided to speak.
“I know you’re a great writer, Jade, and I’m not so bad myself. If you actually put some effort in, we would totally get a higher grade than Beck and Robbie.”
You saw her head tilt slightly, and she raised her eyes to meet your gaze.
“Instead of making him feel bad by killing a metaphorical version of him, we could outsmart him.” She spoke slowly, musing over what you said.
You nodded along, afraid to say anything that could jeopardize the somewhat-amicable conversation you two were having right now.
“Alright!” she exclaimed suddenly, making you jump. “You’ve convinced me! Let’s make this the best damn scene Sikowitz has ever seen.”
Almost 4 hours later, the two of you had successfully put together and rehearsed a scene that had just about everything, and you were damn proud of it. It had a plot twist, a fight, a moment of potent pathos, while still keeping in a tiny bit of shade towards Beck – you couldn’t fully convince Jade. There was pretty much no doubt in either of your minds that this would beat Beck and Robbie. Hey, they didn’t stay up until 2am writing theirs!
“We did it!” you yawned, half-heartedly punching the air. Jade grinned as you collapsed onto the couch, scrolling through the script on her laptop.
“Actually, Y/N – Y/L/N,” she corrected herself, shaking her head. “Can we go over that fight scene again?”
You groaned, throwing your arms over your face. “Whyyyy?”
“Because, as funny as it would be, I don’t want to actually hurt you.” She started to pull you off the couch as she spoke, and you felt your heart skip a beat when her hands closed around your wrist.
“Fine,” you grumbled, yawning again. “From, what, two lines beforehand?”
She nodded, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly as you watched her morph into character.
You cleared your throat. “Valerie, this isn’t you!”
“Oh, Maia.” As per the blocking, she began to slowly walk towards you, and you had to force yourself to stay in character.
“This has always been me.” She finished the line, and so the fight scene started.
It was well choreographed, Jade’s intensity pairing nicely with your more placid style. You went through the steps as if it were a dance: swing, catch, turn, kick, duck –
“Wait, hold on.” Jade stopped, and you kicked out at nothing, stumbling. She chuckled as you regained your balance, rolling her eyes. “Can we change that part? It’s awkward to grab you by the shoulder.”
You shrugged, nodding. “What would be better?”
She paused, her hands moving slightly as she gestured out the motions of the fight.
“Okay, like –” She reached forward and grabbed at your waist, surprising you. You jumped backwards, gasping slightly.
She squinted at you. “What was that?”
You tried to keep your cool. “Nothing, sorry, you surprised me.”
Jade seemed doubtful, but let it go as you returned to her. She demonstrated the move again, only making it a couple of seconds longer before she felt you flinch.
She had her arm locked around your waist for the next move now, pulling you close to her, and she glanced down, her eyebrows raised.
“Seriously, am I hurting you or something?” She would never have admitted it, but there was a hint of concern in her voice.
You shook your head, pressing your lips together. “No, no, it’s fine.”
She let out a light laugh. “Alright then – we just have to figure out how to get from here to the end.” Her brow furrowed in thought. Just like before, she began to gesture the motions with her hands, her fingers gently flicking against your skin as she puzzled it out in her head.
You froze, looking down at her hand that was still firmly secured around your waist. Her fingers were in constant, absentminded motion, her nails tapping along your side and hip. A tiny squeak escaped your lips. “W-West!”
“Huh? Is something wrong?” She looked down at you again, her fingers still moving. You tried to splutter out a coherent response, but all that you could get out was a mumbled, “No…”
For the first time, Jade seemed to notice what she was doing with her hands. She shifted her gaze to her fingers, which were still marking out patterns on your skin. Your head was pressed to your chest, and you were squirming almost imperceptibly in her grip, not wanting to alarm her. But, alas, it wasn’t enough.
“Oh, I see now.” She spoke slowly, drawing out the words, and to your dismay you felt the tickling at your side become more deliberate. “You’re just ticklish.”
Before you could speak, she’d spun you out of the hold and had reached both hands down to scribble at your sides. You let out a surprised shriek, biting back laughter.
“Jahahade!” You batted at her exploring hands, refusing to meet her gaze. “We need to figure out the scene!”
She was grinning now, finding it all too easy to pin you down onto the couch and straddle your waist.
“Yeah, but that was before I discovered this.”
Despite your valiant efforts to stop her, she managed to wrestle both of your wrists into one hand, pulling your arms above your head.
“Wait!” you squealed, shaking your head madly. “This – don’t – I swear – please –”
You were cut off by a determined scratching between your ribs, and the giggles finally spilled out.
“WEHEHEST, LET ME GO!” you shrieked, squirming around as much as you could.
“West? I don’t know a West, I’m Valerie Sinclair, and I just love to tickle my dear friend Maia Lahey!” She had put on that stupid southern accent you loved so much, and as she tickled down to your stomach you felt your face heat up.
“That’s not how Valerie speaks!” you managed to squeal amidst your laughter.
“Well, that sure as hell ain’t how Maia laughs but look at you go!” She released your wrists, but you were so weakened by the tickling and teasing that you didn’t get a chance to fight your way free before she started to knead her thumbs up your sides. You threw your head back in mirth, and even though you couldn’t see her, you could hear the smirk in Jade’s voice.
“My oh my, I do declare we’re discoverin’ a tickle spot,” she teased, fluttering her torturous nails under your arms. You squealed again, clamping your arms to your sides.
“I’M GOHOHONNA KILL VALERIE!”
Jade gasped, wiggling her trapped fingers at a frightening speed.
“My goodness, that’s not how I remember this scene goin’!” she exclaimed. You were beginning to lose your breath, and you could only let out a half-whine, half-hysterical-giggle as she relentlessly tickled you, nails scribbling across your stomach and sides with no indication of stopping.
After a few more unbearable minutes, your laughter began to turn silent, and she decided to let you go. You kicked her off the couch, curling onto your side, giggles still streaming from your lips as you tried to get rid of the lingering sensation. When you finally worked up the courage to look up, you were met with a very smug Jade West, the corners of her lips upturned and her eyes crinkled.
“Well that was fun,” she remarked, tilting her head at you. You glared back at her – and if looks could kill, this one probably wouldn’t have been that effective, what with your small smile and red face.
“You sounded like Tori,” you eventually grumbled, pushing yourself up off the couch. You were startled by a loud clap, followed by an even louder cheer.
“Because you said that, Y/N, and only because you said that, I will not exploit your weakness for the rest of the night!”
You raised your eyebrows at her.
“What?” she defended herself. “She doesn’t think it sounds like her.”
“Just the rest of the night? That’s it?”
“Don’t push it, Y/L/N.” She wiggled her fingers menacingly, and you blanched, shooting her another glare.
“So, um –” you cleared your throat – “Where were we?”
“Valerie, this isn’t you!”
“Oh, Maia. This has always been me.”
As the fight scene began, you could see Cat in your peripheral vision on the edge of her seat – just the reaction you and Jade were hoping for. It had only taken one more hour to perfect the scene last night, and it had ended with the two of you sleeping at awkward angles on the couch, so now your neck was sore and your arm hurt if you bent it the wrong way – but it was worth it.
You felt Jade grab your waist as she pulled you into the next move (you were prepared this time) and you made eye contact. She tilted her head ever so slightly, and you felt the slightest twitch at your side before she let go, and the scene continued.
By the time you were on the last few lines, you could see your entire class clearly engrossed in the story.
“Maia, I’m sorry, you were right. I let all of this get under my skin. I should never have hurt you.”
“No, I’m – I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have rushed you like that.”
And, finally, the end was upon you. You took Jade’s wrist and went to pull her into a hug (her idea, it mirrored the opening tableau), but suddenly, you felt her stop, her hand on your shoulder.
Before you could register what was going on, she was moving even closer, and her hands were cupping your face, and your eyes were closed, and she was kissing you – and you were kissing her back.
You were pulled from the moment – the so, incredibly perfect moment – by the sound of applause, and Cat’s cooing. You both pulled back, smiling at your classmates as if everything was normal, but she squeezed your hand as you took your bows.
The rest of the class was a blur, and you couldn’t remember anything that Sikowitz said, or if Beck gave you an odd look as you left the stage. All that mattered to you that was by the time you left school that day, Jade West had her arm around your waist, and as she gave your side a pinch, her lips were pressed against your forehead.
୨ৎ YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN (FLASH MOUNTAIN IS GETTING YOU UP)
⤷ tags: romantic, kind-of au, 1.9k words
⤷ prompt: "oh my goodness, i loved your steve x reader tickle fics! they’re so flustering 💓🙈 if prompts are still open, would you be okay with writing for henry creel? it can be a fluffy story where he discovers the reader’s ticklishness through harmless kisses and then it just evolves i to a full on tickle fight from there >//<
no pressure if you don’t want to write this! it’s just a friendly request <3 thank you!"
⤷ summary: when someone from your old high school shows up at your new job at hawkins lab, you realise something about your past.
“excuse me,” a quiet, child-like voice cut through the air and you felt a tiny hand tap your shoulder. “can i have some more crayons, please?”
smiling gently, you turned to find a very perplexed seven holding a broken red crayon. you agreed and made your way to the dark storage room.
distracted by the task on your mind, you didn’t notice the orderly’s footsteps echoing yours.
lights. camera. action.
you were abruptly hit with a wave of nausea by your third shot.
the cheap disco light spun round and round- it seemed to take the world with it. round and round. hmm. slick hands grappling for the kitchen counter, you lay your eyes on the next bright red cup- target acquired. maneuvering your way around the room, you were hazily aware of the people dancing around you. residential good girl of hawkins high, they used to call you.
now you were in a dirty house party in the middle of god-knows-where drinking yourself to death. all because of a stupid, pathetic decision to hook up with the worst possible person you could’ve chosen. danny harrington.
you downed the next shot in a matter of seconds, throat burning, eyes watering. yet nothing could overload the intensity of how painfully your heart splintered raw. you were an idiot for thinking you would be different, that harrington of all people would stay with you because he loved you.
you were nothing but a nice fuck to him.
“hey, hey,” a pair of hands suddenly spun you around, and you almost collapsed to the floor.
you had always been embarrassingly lightweight. blinking your eyes rapidly, you could make out a vague outline of a neatly styled wave of blonde hair, brown eyes, and a sharp jawline.
maybe you were just drunk, or this mysterious stranger was really fuckin’ hot.
giggling, you messily slurred your words, clutching his toned shoulders. “h-hi, handsome.”
a delicious rosy pink spread along his cheeks, and even in your drunken state, you could see the surprise and flusteredness that coated his large brown pupils. he placed his arm under your knees, flinging you up in bridal style with ease, other hand gently supporting you from the back.
you flung your arms around his neck, relishing in the warm flush there. kicking your legs happily, you let him walk you home, sneaking you through your bedroom window, being careful not to wake your parents from their deep slumber.
he looked at you with his lips slightly ajar, as if waiting for permission. you nodded eagerly and squinted as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could inhale the very mystifying, woody scent of his hair.
“goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, before clambering out the window, his lanky build making it a difficult task.
years flew past without you wondering too much about the peculiar interaction. you’d easily deluded yourself into thinking that maybe danny did care. he’d taken you home after you were intoxicated by too much alcohol, after all.
but something in you just knew. as you studied day and night for your exams, you knew. as you applied for the new governmental hawkins lab role, you knew. as you showed up at dr brenner’s office, where he introduced you to the exciting new program- “we conduct voluntary experiments on homeless and orphaned children to give them a future”- you knew.
knew that he wasn’t danny, after all.
“here we are.” dr brenner- “call me martin.”- led you through the white, futuristic lab to a room. children with buzzed hair and soft hospital gowns swarmed throughout. how kind, you thought, for dr brenner to provide them with such luxuries. to save them from the evil foster care system.
your gaze flitted across the room, tracing the vivid rainbow across the walls until your eyes set on an unmoving orderly in a corner. he was wearing all white, hands behind his back. something about him set your nerves alight- he had a friendly mask, but there was something very, very powerful about him.
it was deliciously entrancing.
you found yourself unconsciously licking your lips, coating them with a slick desire. the orderly tilted his head ever so slightly, and your heart stuttered.
“this is peter,” dr brenner seemed blissfully unaware of the interaction. “he helps around here. i’m sure you will get along very well.”
“yes,” peter made his way across the room, his footsteps quiet and measured. towering before you, his eyes widened with something- hatred? no, recognition. you put your hand out for him to shake. he grasped it lightly, the cervices of his hand rubbing across yours in a seductive manner. your eyes flitted down to his lips just once, and then twice. you swallowed thickly before realising your hands were still intertwined.
withdrawing yours quickly, you realised dr brenner was long gone, leaving you in the room with this undeniably attractive man and eleven strange children.
days went by without any real interaction between you and peter. unless you counted the mindnumbing eye-fucking, of course. you felt his gaze on you, always, boring ancient runes into the curve of your back every time you turned away to play chess with three, or help five with a particularly hard marbles game. you could feel the pool of desire growing, albeit slowly, like a fire waiting to consume you whole.
you bit your lip.
“excuse me,” a quiet, child-like voice cut through the air and you felt a tiny hand tap your shoulder. “can i have some more crayons, please?”
smiling gently, you turned to find a very perplexed seven holding a broken red crayon. you agreed and made your way to the dark storage room.
distracted by the task on your mind, you didn’t notice the orderly’s footsteps echoing yours.
“crayons,” you muttered under your breath. “the fuck are they?”
suddenly, you turned to find the familiar face of peter ballard centimetres away from yours. gasping in surprise, you took in his scent- a herbal, woody smell that reminded you of something. something from your past. someone who loomed in the back corner of chemistry in your hawkins high days.
in the darkness and shadows and crayons and toys that coated the room, you realised something.
something the bright lights of hawkins lab concealed. something college and so many years abroad erased. memories you found that were buried within you all along.
“holy shit.”
“hi, sweetheart.”
“wha- what? henry creel? aren’t you supposed to be dea-?”
“shut up.”
a hand clamped onto your mouth and henry swiftly spun you so your back pressed against his stiffened core. an arm entwined itself around the curve of your waist, making you jolt. he was so close you could feel the steady panting from his mouth, and the rise and fall of his chest as he pulled you impossibly closer. the proximity of it all felt illegal. dangerous. if dr brenner caught you- his prized lab assistant, and his faithful orderly together- there was no saying what he might do. the thrill of it made you shiver.
the longer you took in his scent, you began to form blurry images of that night. that night danny kissed another girl right in front of you while his friends jeered. that morning you mysteriously found your hungover self entrapped in the comfort of your bed, with nothing but traces of that peculiar smell in your sheets. he saved you. henry saved you.
footsteps faded slowly away from the door and you both relaxed. flushing, you realised the position you were in, pushing on his arm for him to let you go.
“y/n,” he whispered. you opened your mouth to interject and he pressed a finger to your lips.
“listen to me. all you need to know is that i’m henry and i’m alive and here. don’t ask anything you won’t want to know.”
he raised his eyebrows expectantly and you agreed, feverish.
“thank you. for that night.”
he looked at you, really looked, deep into your eyes.
“it was my pleasure, sweetheart.”
you found yourself in the storage room a lot more after that.
always with a smirk pulling at your lips, or with a teasing wink. henry sometimes followed. sometimes not.
sometimes you would get curious. but when henry brushed a strand of hair away from your face, or grabbed the back of your neck with his large hand, his own tendons twitching with desire, or even looked at you a certain way, the questions that were going to sprout from your mouth evaporated into the dusty shelves of the lab.
he would lean down to place a haphazard kiss on your cheek and rest his head on your shoulder. he would press his lips to your neck, painting a trail of soft kisses down to your collar bone. always pausing, as if asking for permission. but no more than that. never more than worshipping kisses and hugs and praises.
you squirmed, imperceptible, at the ticklish feeling of creases of his lips brushing against your skin and you almost squealed. henry, ever the gentleman, stopped immediately.
“sorry, baby,” he murmured, the low vibrations of his voice sending shivers up your spine. “did i go too far?”
“no,” you almost whined at the loss of contact. “i’m just- i’m just a little sensitive.”
“sensitive?” his brown eyes widened before the corners of his lips stretched into a smirk. “are you ticklish?”
“wha- hehenryhy!” you tried to contain your laughter as he kissed your neck again, and again, sloppily, suddenly hungry for your giggles. henry’s hands crept up your sides and you jumped, almost headbutting him.
“wehe-” you sniffed through uncontrollable squirming. “wehe gohotta behe quihet.”
“aww, sweetheart, you better hold your giggles in then.” he teased, laughing along with you.
your hands never seemed to catch his as they darted around your ribcage, squeezing at your hips- and even when you did stop him, his mouth was still doing unspeakable damage. you attempted to curl into a ball, and henry held you up- you’d be surprised at his strength despite his lanky build if you had the capacity to think straight. if you had told little miss perfect back in hawkins high she would be in a lab flirting with henry creel of all people, five years later- she would’ve been absolutely shocked out of her dainty little mind.
henry’s tickling slowed and your breathing stilled into a lulling rhythm, releasing residual laughter. the silence was loud- nothing but a symphony of teasing, involuntary, quiet laughter at the silliness of it all.
“i’ll murder you if you get me fired, creel.”
“i’d like to see you try,” he retorted.
both of your voices had dropped to barely a whisper. suddenly, you found your lips glued to his, feeling his warm ones press into yours. henry’s arm wrapped around your back while the other found your nape, pulling gently at your hair. the kiss was soft, passionate. nothing like the rough, empty sex danny had put you through.
you sneaked a peek at him. you’d never seemed to notice how long his blonde, barely visible eyelashes were and you wondered how they never got tangled. his pale skin glinted in the flickering, dim light of the storage room and he clutched your body like it was a lifeline. your bodies moved together, gentle and soft, and you grinded against his toned core with desperate moans. your hands sneaked under his shirt, roaming up and down his soft back.
it felt like you had been in that room forever. when you finally picked up on growing footsteps by the door, you pushed him away unwillingly. henry licked his lips with desire, groaning at the taste of your mixed spit, his member a little too visible.
“same time next week?” he asked, heading out the door.
you nodded, eyes glossed with a watery sheen before following.
under the harsh lighting and white walls of hawkins lab, you found love.
୨ৎ 18+ I WANT YOUR VIDEO (I'M YOUR MOON, YOU'RE MY STAR)
⤷ tags: steve harrington x jonathan byers x reader, tickling, bondage, video tape, 0.9k words
⤷ author's note: daily affirmation stonathan is real stonathan is real stonathan is real
“did you do it yet?” steve asked, unable to conceal the high-pitched tilt of excitement evident in his voice.
“calm down, harrington,” jonathan snarked as he adjusted the tripod.
“okay, but i just really wanna tickle our girl,” steve whined, throwing a glance at you.
the way they were talking so mind-numbingly casually while you just lay on the bed, steve on your hips, hands tied up by your head…
it made you really fuckin’ wet.
it was messed up, you realised, how much this turned you on. how greedy and slutty of you to want not only one, but two boyfriends to fuck your brains out. your skin tingled in anticipation. you tried to tug on your restraints, elbows attempting to clamp down to your sides.
your arms didn’t budge. at all.
“too tight?” steve, ever the sweetheart, asked softly. you shook your head no, shooting him a preemptive, nervous smile. he returned it, sickly sweet and loving, and it made you fall right back in love with his puppy dog eyes.
“okay, are you two done flirting or can we get started now?” jonathan teased, a dimple pulling at his cheeks before steve grabbed his face and smothered him with kisses.
it was hot. the way the two brunettes’ toned arms traced each other, jonathan’s fingers finding steve’s perfectly styled hair and tugging, once, twice as a moan escaped his mouth. desire pooled between your legs.
they broke apart, two pair of brown eyes finding their way up your stretched out body and meeting your gaze. suddenly, you felt so incredibly exposed. again, you tugged on your restraints with no avail.
“are you ready, baby?” jonathan asked teasingly, as he made his way to sit on your ankles.
through your peripheral, the cold, red blinking of the camera made your throbbing clit worsen. you swallowed nervously, nodding, an anticipatory smile tugging at your lips. steve, still perched your hips, began to trace his nails around your body.
the intolerableness of it all drove you mad- almost instantly, a stream of uncontrollable giggles spilled from your mouth, shaking your head in ticklish agony. jonathan, upon hearing this, stroked a finger from the bottom of your foot to your arch, adding one, then all his fingers, gently clawing around your feet.
“fuhuhck!” you groaned, ankles jerking in ticklishness.
“aww, what’s wrong sweetheart?” steve asked mockingly as he crawled his fingers up to your ribs. “are you too ticklish for this?”
“i’m sure she’s not,” jonathan teased. “after all, she asked for this.”
you flushed, arching your back with a squeal when steve scribbled quickly at the back of your ribs, while jonathan was still tracing gentle patterns on your soles. the different sensations sent your head spinning, and you squeezed your eyes shut, squirming fruitlessly on the bed.
“plehehease,” you whined. “i- i cahahan’t.”
“can’t what?” jonathan leaned back to pinch your kneecaps.
“cahahan’t-” you cut yourself off with whimpers when steve pressed sloppy, ticklish kisses over your ears, hands still wandering around your stomach.
“i think we broke her, byers,” steve laughed and jonathan hummed in approval.
“she’s so pretty when she’s tickled out,” jonathan mused as his hands found your thighs, squeezing mercilessly.
you opened your eyes to find that steve had paused, just admiring your euphoric state. hair messy, eyes glossed over with mirth, face a rosy pink. soft giggling exploded out of you when jonathan placed ticklish kisses over the inside of your thighs, as you tried and failed to curl up.
“hey, no fair, i wanna look at her too,” jonathan grumbled.
steve rolled his eyes, turning to squeeze jonathan’s sides. he screeched. nevertheless, they swapped positions, jonathan now flitting his gaze over your exposed upper body eagerly, mapping out a plan of attack. you could feel steve practically glowing at the sight of your ticklish feet.
jonathan turned, whispering something incoherent to steve and before you could question it, you felt it- two pairs of large hands squeezing and scribbling everywhere, drilling into your hips, swiping along your legs, methodical and cruel.
“fuhuck yohu!” you squealed before pulling desperately at your restraints, bending your knees, anything to escape.
they both laughed mockingly, a mixed, low sound that sent heat to your cheeks.
“you’re too ticklish for your own good, doll,” jonathan tutted, eyes laced with fondness.
“so are you, byers,” steve snorted and you laughed in earnest.
jonathan widened his eyes in mock disbelief. “i think you’re forgetting what kind of predicament you’re in right now.”
“noho-” you sniffed hysterically when jonathan renewed his efforts- you didn’t realise he was holding back, but now that steve was scribbling frantically at your soles and jonathan’s hand was darting up and down your sides with precision, you realise how fucked you were.
they finally let you go when they got tired. and that took a long while, for them to draw out enough pretty, pathetic sounds from their baby girl. they clambered off of you, steve carrying you out to the couch and handing you a glass of water, jonathan removing his tape and playing it on the tv.
you sat between them, flustered to high heaven as steve and jonathan analysed the video with teasing remarks.
“hey, that spot got her howling.”
“aww, she looks so pretty here.”
occasionally, they would get bored of the muffled laughter from the cheap tv, their eyes meeting and hands suddenly on your torso in sync, while surprised giggles burst out of you.
୨c 18+ PRETTY PLEASE (I WANNA GET OFF BUT YOU'RE SUCH A TEASE)
⤷ tags: steve harrington x reader, tickling, handcuffs, 1k words
⤷ author's note: is it incriminating to admit this was originally a steddie fic and i changed it to steve x reader because my horny ass wanted to experience this...
“hey, baby.”
steve had that look in his eyes. hungry. wild. the type when he gets back from a particularly uneventful shift at the wsqk with robin. the type when he wants nothing more but to make himself feel less suburban boring, and make his girl really, really satisfied. the type when he wants to tie you up and tickle you until you see stars.
he was going to make it really fucking good.
“‘m gonna get you, okay?” an unconstrainted whimper escaped the trenches of your mouth.
you swallowed, nodding slowly as heat pooled between your legs. steve took your left wrist in his hand, reaching for your new fluffy pink handcuffs on the dresser as you squirmed impatiently in his grasp.
“excited, are we?” steve teased as you rolled your eyes.
“shut up and cuff me, harrington.”
“so bossy,” he sighed, almost leisurely. “so bossy for a little needy slut who’s going to be fuckin’ wrecked by me.”
at that, your thighs rubbed together in anticipation, skin tingling with nerves. steve smirked at your blatant enthusiasm. he had been daydreaming about this since his early morning drive to the radio station. his girl, all stretched out and pretty, all his to put his fingers on and draw out the most adorable noises.
“what’s your safe word, baby?” he asked, in all seriousness as he cuffed your other wrist to the headboard.
“red.”
steve nodded in approval, raising his eyebrows. he took his time checking in on your comfortability, the tightness of your restraints, if you were hurting muscles in this position. you grinded against the bed in desperation.
“okay, okay, baby doll, we’re getting started,” he chuckled at your antics as he forcefully pushed your hips down against the mattress.
fuck. now that steve was half-perched on your thighs, pillow under your arched back, arms cuffed high above your head, the nervousness suddenly hit you like a bus. you tugged on the restraints, only to find that they barely budged at all. your entire upper body was exposed to your merciless boyfriend, and now that you’ve been so fervent about it, he would be ruthless.
it made you really fucking turned on.
“hey, baby,” steve cooed at you, his slightly cold hands sneaking up your hoodie.
you whined, goosebumps rising as he slowly traced patterns up and down your sides, torturously, excruciatingly slow. your arms itched to protect your sensitive torso, pulling at the restraints with no avail.
“p-please,” giggles started to spill from your mouth as his fingers formed claws, tickling everywhere.
“please what, baby?”
“please… please tic-” you cut yourself off with a series of embarassing moans as steve pulled your hoodie up to your bra, raking his fingertips up and down your stomach.
“aww, baby, i don’t understand you over all those pretty sounds you’re making.” he had the audacity to shoot you a sickly sweet smile.
“n-nohoho,” you whimpered as ticklish shockwaves shot up your torso, squirming fruitlessly.
“yehehes,” he mocked.
suddenly, steve stopped abruptly, his palms still on your sides but flat against it.
“w-whahat?” he waited patiently for you to come down from your giggle high.
“you didn’t think i would let you get your reward so easily, would you? you’ve been so, so bratty.”
you moved against his touch, desperate for more.
“no,” he hummed. “no more until you beg for it.”
“please, steve,” you wailed, dusting your cheeks with bright red embarassment. “i fuckin’ need this.”
“need what?”
“i need you to- to…”
he raised an eyebrow expectantly, the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips.
the fucker. he was enjoying this.
“i need you to tickle me,” you mumbled, feeling a blush creep along your neck.
“well, why didn’t you say so, baby?” he teased, hands immediately finding your bare sides and squeezing, once, twice, three times, until you damn near squealed, falling into ticklish euphoria.
you opened your squeezed eyes to look at steve. his gaze was locked onto you, a hint of desire coating his pupils. his fingers crept up to your ribs and you curled up, knees hitting steve square in the back.
“ouch, baby,” he winced mockingly- he and you both knew your strength was nothing against his. “i’ll just have to get your knees later, you know, just to teach ‘em a lesson.”
“fuckuck ohohoff!” you squealed as he wormed his fingers around the crevices of your ribs.
“no can do, baby, no can do,” he laughed, albeit mockingly, as he placed his ten fingers around your ribs and suddenly drilled in, causing your laughter to go up an octave.
he paused and you took in deep breaths, skin still tingling ticklishly as residual giggles spilled out of your mouth.
“god, you’re so mean,” you grumbled as steve uncuffed you.
“you love it, baby,” he punctuated with a squeeze to your knee, accompanied with a high-pitched screech and kick in his direction.
“come ‘ere,” he grunted as he sat on the couch, strong arm beckoning you to sit on his lap.
you flicked through the channels until you found something mildly interesting, and steve wrapped his arms around your waist, occasionally kissing your neck or whispering something stupid into your ear, or if you were being a particular asshole, give your sides a squeeze. you blushed every time you remembered what happened earlier, and the fact that steve could probably feel and see the heat in your ears was more than enough to intensify it.
⤷ tags: jade west x reader, fluff, tickling, 2.2k words
⤷ author's note: icl twin i wrote this in like 2023 when i had covid
hey, jade west might be sadistic, overly rude, absolutely terrifying and ridiculously loud (seriously, your neighbours told you to stop inviting "your demonic girlfriend" over), but she was-
well, there is no "but".
she was a maniac.
and you loved her for it.
maybe you were a maniac too. at least that's what the students at hollywood arts all thought.
"just there for her hot looks." they heard them whisper when you and jade walked down the corridor, hand in hand. oh, if only they knew.
jade wanted to ("pull their greasy hair follicles out of their heads, see who's hot now, huh?"), but you honestly couldn't care less. you loved jade and she loved you back.
only that mattered.
the ironic thing was, the first time you laid your eyes on her... well, all you felt was a deep, rooted hatred for her.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" jade screamed at her boyfriend beck (well, ex-boyfriend now), for the millionth time.
everyone rolled their eyes neutrally. high school drama, their faces seemed to lament.
that day, you had been this new girl at hollywood arts. and jade west was shrieking with that mangled voice of hers at everything and everyone and you just couldn't take it anymore.
"WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?" as soon as the words slipped out of your mouth, all heads whipped in your direction. you were sort of shocked now, definitely not used to all the attention.
you were always the keep-peace-stay-out-of-trouble-survive-high-school type of person, so the second you made a scene, the immense feeling of regret hit your stomach with a wave of nausea.
jade turned her head, slowly, predatorily, spitting the words out of her mouth like poison, "what did you just say to me?"
"jade, don't-" beck grabbed her shoulder, clearly nervous at what she was capable of. judging by her not so innocent history.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?" jade practically spitted.
as stupid as it sounded, a sudden rush of anger shocked your figure as you yelled.
right back at her, surprising everyone including yourself.
"look, i'm not trying to butt my head into stuff but i'm telling you it's wrong to fight with your boyfriend in public. it's like you're begging for attention. yeah, i get that he's a real toxic guy, flirting with girls everywhere-"
beck scoffed and jade opened her mouth to interrupt you. you held up your hand. jade shut her mouth.
"but that's no reason to make such a scene. now please just take your stupid drama back home or whatever." you turned and walked away without looking at anyone, but you could feel their eyes tracing your back, leaving imprints of curiosity and awe.
even back then, jade west was a maniac.
"hey, babe?" jade ran down the stairs and kissed you on the forehead, making you jump. "whatcha doing?"
"nothing," you tried to hide it, but a few giggles made it past your mouth.
jade raised an eyebrow and smirked at you, cueing you to elaborate.
"what would the kids at school think of you now? being all cute and flirty with your babe?" you spluttered through your concealed laughter.
"oh shut up. i'm very intimidating."
she gave the same devilish smirk that never ceased to give you butterflies.
"and... jade and y/n."
sikowitz finished announcing the project pairs as you gasped in distaste. you were far from complaining, though. you didn't want to seem whiny on your first week.
"hey, wanna come over later to work on the project?"
you nudged jade as she ignored you completely. "WEST!" you yelled in her ear.
"oh hello there, y/l/n. ain't it a nice day?" she countered with her annoying southern accent that you hated so much.
"can we just get this over with? i don't like this any more than you do."
"fine, i'll come over and we'll work on it." she finally agreed, not bothering to hide her annoyed expression.
"YES!" you pumped your fist in the air, missing the ghost of a grin on her face in your bliss.
jade west was a maniac.
"you're blushing, babe." she stated as you turned redder, if that was even possible.
scoffing, you ruffled her hair, enjoying her exaggerated disgust.
"i hate you, y/l/n" she tilted her head, playfully glaring at you.
"love you too, west." you chuckled at her groan.
"you're so cheesy!"
she had no bite in her voice. you both knew how much she loved it.
you were both sprawled out on the couch, typing on your laptops as fast as you could.
"ONE MORE MINUTE ONE MORE MINUTE TILL MIDNIGHT Y/N! KEEP TYPING, WE GOTTA CATCH THIS DEADLINE."
"no shit, sherlock." you remarked sarcastically while your digits flew across the keys, nails occasionally catching in between the creases.
"well forgive me for caring about our grades."
"you're the one who forgot to come over."
your fingers felt like they were on fire and oh, how they burned. and-
"WE DID IT, Y/N! WE BEAT THE DEADLINE!"
"FUCKING HELL, JADE!"
jade clearly couldn't conceal her giant beam. and as you opened your arms in the heat of the moment, she jumped right into your grasp and hugged you, burying her face in your shoulder.
you held her tight, as if it would physically hurt to pull away from her. she didn't struggle, though. it was like- it was like she was savouring the moment as much as you were.
"did you just call me y/n?" you gasped incredulously, barely making any effort to hide your laughing.
"did you just call me jade?" she smirked mockingly right back at you.
why jade had to wait till half past eleven to come over, you never knew. it was a twenty page script, and anyone who had common sense would know that thirty minutes is insufficient.
yet you two got yourselves an “a” anyway.
(or did she do that so it would be too late to go home alone? so she could sleep uncomfortably on your couch, though comforted by your presence?)
(or was that why you refused to sleep in your bed that night, and when jade refused to take your bed, you stayed on the couch instead, staring at jade's slightly snoring figure for hours?)
she probably didn't have the common sense to work on a project earlier. she was a maniac, after all.
"i got us tickets to that horror movie i wanted to watch!" jade bounced (yes, jade "i'm practically satan" west bounced) into your house.
you didn't bother to hide your groan as you shivered with anticipation, already petrified. tingling with nerves, you grabbed your coat (and jade's waist) and headed outside.
yeah, you were absolutely terrified of horror movies, and absolutely steered clear of them ever since you saw the exorcist accidentally when your parents were watching it.
but you would suffer through 2 hours of monsters shrieking, victims screaming and jump-scares that you would fall for every time if it meant that your girlfriend would hold you tight and close through every second.
in the darkness of the movie theatre, jade hugged you as you buried your shaking face in her hair, taking in the scent of her grape-flavoured shampoo.
"baby, you know you don't have to come watch these with me, right?" she whispered ever so softly in your ear, eliciting soft giggles.
"i like it when you hold me. and i would go through a billion horror movies if it means that you're happy." you sniffed as another victim screamed.
and, being a sadistic person and supportive girlfriend (how do you even do that at the same time?), she wrapped her arm around your waist and wriggled her fingers ever so softly.
"h-hey!" you let out a quiet squeak as she pinched your side, sending ticklish shockwaves up your spine.
"wehe gottaha behe quiehet!" you muffled your laughs in your sleeve.
"aren't you one to talk?" she shot you a teasing smile as you glared at her. oh, if looks could kill.
"stahap it! jahahahde-"
she gently poked around your torso, keeping her other arm wrapped around your waist so you couldn't slip away.
"thihes is wohrse thahan thehe movihe," you giggled into your fingers.
you could feel her nails crawling up your side to your ribs, and you damn near shrieked.
"aw, didn't you just say i was cute and flirty? am i scary enough for you now, huh?" she shook her fingers into your sides, and you pressed your hand harshly onto your mouth to hide the squeal you were dangerously close to letting out.
she wasn't completely horrible, though. she let you go after that and covered your ears gently as you closed your eyes, eventually falling asleep on her shoulder.
only to be awakened by her fluttering fingers at your neck, once again sending you into a giggle fit.
"the movie's over, giggles. you wasted a ticket by laughing and sleeping through the whole thing," she laughed at your bright red face, painted with a flustered expression, only to be slapped lightly on the shoulder.
“it was your fault for tickling me!” you whined indignantly.
“it was your fault for being so ticklish!” she retorted.
"we would be thrown out by security! THROWN OUT BY SECURITY, JADE!" you flailed your limbs over-dramatically as jade rolled her eyes.
the fact that an evident smile never left her lips said otherwise, though.
the first time that you actually had a hang out with jade west was chaotic. what else could you expect from her?
cat, being close friends with the both of you, had invited both of you to karaoke. what she forgot to tell you was that jade would be coming. and she conveniently forgot to tell jade you were coming either. thanks a lot, cat. (the sarcasm doesn't really come off now that the karaoke night was one of the major reasons why you were dating jade now.)
"west?"
"y/l/n?"
you two stared at each other, dumbfounded as the realisation that cat set this up dawned on you.
"CAT!" you and jade shrieked at the same time.
"i just thought- we could all hang out together!" cat giggled cheerfully, clearly not aware of the tension between you two. (or did she?)
and so, just to satisfy cat, and for no other particular reason at all, the three of you sang together.
"okay okay let's do a serious one," jade grinned. "y/l/n, you, me, duet, now. um- love me harder by ariana grande?"
you agreed and picked up the mic.
"tell me something i need to know," you sang, "then take my breath and never let it go."
"if you just let me invade your space," jade continued, "i'll take the pleasure, take it with the pain."
"and if in the moment, i bite my lip. baby in that moment, you'll know this is."
"something bigger than us and beyond bliss, give me a reason to believe it."
"cause if you want to keep me, you gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta got to love me harder. and if you really need me, you gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, got to love me harder."
and as you two moved on to the chorus, you were aware of the way cat had fallen silent, closing her eyes to the harmonising melodies of jade and your voice. and as the music surrounded the three of you, you felt something "bigger than us and beyond bliss".
it was pure happiness and joy.
jade west might be a maniac, but you realised with horror that you might be becoming friends.
jade dumped her bag down on your couch, turning on your tv and scrolling through netflix.
"oh, so you decide to torture me through the actual movie that i paid for and go to my house and go through my netflix, hm?" you teased.
"i mean, technically it's your parents' house and their netflix," she shrugged nonchalantly.
“you’re insufferable,” you quipped.
“am i now?” again with the southern accent. (and you had learnt to love it.)
“sorry, gotta go, bathroom!” jade shouted.
“y/n,” cat’s voice was laced with urgency. “i think jade likes you.”
you almost snorted at the absurdity. “are we talking about the same jade west? no way. besides, she's still hung up on beck.”
“not anymore she's not! i know it, she likes you! i see the way she looks at-”
jade, returning from her bathroom break, only to see cat reading a magazine upside down and you sitting stiffly on the chair, picking on a strand of hair.
“okay, what happened?”
“nothing, gotta go!” cat cried hysterically and bolted out of the room.
“okay, guess it’s just you and me, then.” jade sat down, not a hint of a frown on her face.
huh. she might be a maniac, but you would certainly would consider her as a friend. nothing more than that.
"cuddle me. now." jade demanded, eyes glinting.
"rude." you said as you snuggled up to her, relishing in the warm feeling of her arms wrapped around your torso.
⤷ tags: wanda maximoff x reader, fluff, angst, 1.4k words
⤷ author's note: originally wrote this for squealing santa as an anon but i was lowk too shy to post im crine
"i'll be okay."
"i'll be okay."
"i'll be okay."
those were the words that you kept telling yourself.
but you weren't okay. and you just might never be.
you woke up drowning in your own cold sweat, hyperventilating like there was no tomorrow, the nightmares burning into the depth of your mind, grabbing away every ounce of sanity you had. there you were, cold and vulnerable, shivering in the blankets which had you sweating but freezing cold at the same time. every time you tried to fight the feeling of being petrified, you failed miserably. and every failed attempt made you tremble in fear.
what is wrong with you?
an avenger, the second youngest one on the team, barely older than peter by a few months. you should be old enough to deal with fucking nightmares. peter would never be like you.
what is wrong with you?
you were trained to do this, shooting enemies and doing heroic missions. all those years of training as a shield agent- why is this so hard for you?
what is wrong with you?
you fucking fought your way to be an avenger. you went from being a normal low rank shield agent to this, outshining millions of other agents- why couldn't you deal with a single, normal mission?
you fought to keep your eyelids open, but they felt like they weighed a million pounds. soon enough, your eyes closed into a deep trance once again, as your latest mission (or nightmare, for that matter) floated right in front of your fatigued eyes.
"RUN, Y/N! GET OUT OF THERE!" as you heard rogers say distinctly in the earpiece. you bolted, twisting through the maze of endless science products.
behind you, you heard loud footsteps chasing you. at least forty men, you supposed. probably armed.
BANG! your knees near collapsed at the unmistakable sound of gunfire.
okay, they were definitely armed.
you swore under your breath as they caught up with you. you were fast, but not fast enough for a literal stampede of forty armed men.
dodging bullets, you managed to get through the door, sunlight temporarily blinding your eyes. you squinted, jumping down the balcony, feeling the sinking feeling in your stomach and expecting the all too familiar avengers aircraft to catch you perfectly as you landed.
it wasn't there.
screaming and flailing your limbs hopelessly against the air, it was you versus gravity.
guess who won?
"oh shit."
"y/n! thank god!" steve's voice ringing in your ears. your head was pounding and you were pretty banged up.
"what the fuck was that? weren't you ready to catch me in the air, like we planned?"
"i'm sorry, the helicopter broke down and i crashed straight on the ground right as i saw you dive off." steve stared at you apologetically. seeing your bruises and scratches, he scratched his head sheepishly.
"i'm fine." you reassured him.
but you weren't fine.
you had succeeded in failing your mission and nearly killing yourself in the process.
the dive of your stomach as you jumped down without a single worry in the world, the bone striking fear when nothing caught you, the terribly morbid feeling of being a fingertip's length away from death itself? it didn't just go away.
not to mention the mind-numbingly guilty feeling of defeat when you didn't grab the science vials and the forever unsatisfied urge for every mission to be a success. you failed.
sure, you knew the risks of being an avenger. but never had you ever been so close to death. and as ridiculous as it was, you had never failed a single mission before.
and there you are now, crying and clutching at your chest helplessly, as you fought to forget those simple memories that would haunt you forever.
"y/n?" you heard a voice call out.
you jumped, turning. you hated that others could see this vulnerable side of you. normally stoic, unaffected y/n, broken down because of a few bullets and a little fall. pathetic.
you would never be accepted by the other avengers. you didn't have superpowers, nor anything special. even the other human avengers were brilliant. you weren't badass like natasha, or phenomenal at archery like clint. you were just you. normal. boring. you.
"wanda?" you whimpered, trying to hide the trembling of your voice.
"are you okay?" her soft voice sliced through the tension. you could've burst into tears at the gentleness.
"yeah." you took a deep breath and sighed.
"it's okay to... talk to me, you know."
you stiffened, sitting up straight. "i don't need to talk to you. i'm fine."
"y/n." wanda stared at you straight in the eyes. honest and loud.
you didn't return the look.
at this point, you could feel the tears pounding out of your eyes. you were a mess. looking away in embarrassment, you rubbed at your eyes furiously to stop the long overdue tears from running down your cheeks.
"i'm sorry, i-" you were a loss for words as you tried to pull yourself together.
to be seen as a mess in front of your idol, wanda maximoff, was too much too handle. you sobbed, embarrassment flooding into you as you felt her gaze upon you.
wanda's lips pulled into a reassuring smile as she held out her arms, raising her eyebrows as if asking for permission to hug you. you hesitantly nodded.
you practically melted into her embrace. wanda couldn't help but let out a giggle at your reaction. you playfully glared as she rubbed her hands up and down your back with ease.
she never asked about what happened, or why you were crying. never forcing your boundaries. but her message was clear: i'll be here for you no matter what.
at that moment you felt like you would finally be okay.
until the fingers started rubbing at your sides.
you could feel every one of her fingernails pressing gently into your hypersensitive skin, triggering the ticklish nerves. you tried not to squirm away, too shy to tell wanda what she was doing to you.
as she continued to rub on your sides, the tiniest of squeaks left your lips.
wanda's fingers stopped.
time stopped.
you gasped inaudibly.
"you're ticklish?" the dreaded question left wanda's mouth.
oh god.
you could practically feel wanda's smirk burning at the back of your head as you covered your face bashfully with your hands.
"no?"
wanda scratched her fingers up and down your sides, eliciting a stream of squeaky giggles.
"this is adorable," she stated casually, smirking at your whine.
"look at me, you dork. you're amazing, no matter if you have superpowers or not. it doesn't matter how great you are at fighting, or how many missions you've failed. we love you for who you are. about the post-mission traumas, trust me, i've been through plenty of them. not to mention the time when hydra experimented on me and pietro, and even the time when pietro-" wanda swallowed hardly before continuing.
"there are always some things we can never get over. some losses. some pain. it's all part of life and we can't escape it. so the only thing we can do is push through." wanda said as she wrapped her arms impossibly tighter around your torso.
"i'm not telling you to just brush it off. but you're not alone, y/n. i hope you understand that. everyone here understands what you're going through, okay?" you swallowed, a lump in your throat forming.
"you can talk to us, you know? you don't always have to be reserved and private. we're a family here and that's what matters. we can help you. all you have to do is learn to trust."
"trust." you echoed. "i can do that."
"great." wanda's face broke into a smile. "now let's get you tucked up in bed."
as you dove back into your bed that wanda had thoughtfully changed the sweaty sheets of, you were afraid once again. you wanted to call for wanda, but it seemed unnecessary. you didn't want to seem like a baby.
"trust." you said to yourself. "WANDA!"
and that night, wanda maximoff, the scarlet witch, crouched uncomfortably next to your bed, insisting that she was okay. she held your hand until you fell asleep, brushing your hair out of your eyes, holding you tight.
the next morning, you whispered to yourself, "i'll be okay."
