#either way seems like neither of them are very ticklish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muffinsin · 3 months

Note

hiii! can you do a cassandra reaction to her attempting to explore a kink that reader is not comfortable with, and reader yells out the safe word, which is stop? you can choose which kink. it starts out normal smut then slight angst before turning into fluff + aftercare.

— asian anon (could i get a tag?)

Heck yeah! More Cassandra-loving!🙇‍♀️

Let’s get into it! :)

Regarding the tag- as there’s a tag limit at the blog, I’ve found the solution:

Creating a post with all specific anons as tags :) by selecting the tag, all works of this anon can be found

The post can be found here

Masterlists

Frankly, she’s very surprised when you at first agree to indulge her as it comes to her sadism

She knows, you can take light pain

Little spanks here and there, light bites

Nails dragged across your skin, ticklish rather than painful

Never does she quite penetrate your skin, save for when she drinks from you

Even then, it’s always so careful. She is

It’s no surprise nor secret that Cassandra can be very rough, sadistic and murderous

Yet, she keeps you shielded from such dark tendencies

She finds herself flabbergasted when you ask her about her darker kinks one day. It’s very obvious she’s holding back during sex, after all

At first, she’s very reluctant to tell you

Still, with encouragement and some prodding, she opens up about a few

One of them catches your attention in particular

A knife kink? Cutting? You?

She senses your uncertainty, and immediately ensures you know; she doesn’t expect such a thing from you

You’re her sensitive, tiny human. Her little lamb. Her precious morsel

She doesn’t want to hurt you, she assures

Oh, but she does, in only in best way. She wants to see you shake below her, bloodied and broken in all the best ways

She wants to smell your fear

And while she denies this, you know it

Really- between the many kinks she’s mentioned, a knife one doesn’t seem so bad

How bad can it hurt, after all?

She practically beams when you tell her, you’d like to try this kink with her

Of course, she prepares you properly for it all

You’re told to let her know the second you begin to feel even slightly at unease

She will slow down, or stop immediately depending on what you’d like of her

Despite the more sinister nature of this kink- even more so with her- she promises she will be gentle

No deep cuts, none that are vertical and hurt more

Merely stinging pain, she assures

No scars, no everlasting damage, she promises

Wet rags, food and water, even a bucket of ice stands in the room for when your activities come to an end

She ensures you have eaten, and massages your arm gently as she guides you to lay down on the bed

You’re beautifully naked below her, her smooth, bare thighs on either side of you

She’s as bare as you, pale skin revealed, soft fingertips tracing your skin

Gently, she binds your arms above your head and restrains you

She doesn’t want you to jerk away and accidentally hurt yourself

Still, she ensures you know you can stop this whenever

Your mouth is uncovered, allowing you to yell “Stop” at any point

You gulp when you see the knife at last- a large blade, clean and neither too sharp, nor too dull

Your cheeks flush and your heartbeat immediately picks up. She smiles, wide and eager

Cassandra nearly moans at the fear she smells on you

She can’t help but grind down on you a little bit

At last, you gasp when she flips you and lifts tilts head back by your hair

Her grip is tight, but not painful

She’s careful with you, even as her eyes glisten with sadistic pleasure and her chest heaves with each pant

Never have you seen her this riled up

This…hungry

She looks as though she can’t wait to pounce and take you

When the edge of the knife is pressed against your throat, you squeak

It merely presses against you, and her grip on your hair tightens to ensure your head doesn’t accidentally push forwards

You feel your own fear, the sweat and the shaky breaths leaving you

By her dark chuckle, you can tell she knows of it too

“Beg for more, morsel”

Only another shaky squeak comes from your lips

Your brows furrow when the knife pressed against you a little harder

Not pushing in, not breaking skin. Merely reminding you of its presence

You blink, feeling your eyes burn slightly

Stubbornly, you force yourself not to cry yet. Nothing’s even happened yet

The knife trails alongside your skin as the hums, as though waiting

Yet, when you part your lips to plead like asked, no words come out

She laughs, and you practically hear the satisfaction in her voice

“Mhmm, not up to talking, are you?”

Even without being able to see her, you know those stunning, golden eyes are shining bright

The cool blade runs up your neck, to its side until it disappears behind you

For a moment, you wait, anticipating the pain that is sure to come

She enjoys watching you squirm, and crackles when she lets go of your hair and you gasp in surprise

Still, your head stays raised, and she smirks as you attempt to turn

But you can’t see her. Aren’t granted to

Perhaps, she hums, she will allow you to see her if you behave

You gasp when the blade is set to your back, and can’t help but cry out when, at last, pain is inflicted on you

It’s sharp, stinging, as she slices down

And, immediately, it brings tears to your eyes

She merely moans as the scent of your blood hits her

The cut isn’t deep, placed on your left shoulder blade

You grit your teeth when you feel her tongue against it, dragging lightly across it

It stings, but soothes your skin a little all the same

You attempt to look behind you, but can’t see her, nor the blade

Another cut

You feel tears run down your cheeks and fall on the pillow below you

Again, she soothes it

She doesn’t squeeze out more blood, or sucks on the wound. Merely tastes your blood

You feel her moan against your skin

Then, a third one comes

You can’t help it

You scream, loud and clear

A loud “Stop!”

Immediately, the knife drops to the sheets, and sharp nails cut through the rope binding your arms

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry”, you cry out when she pulls you to her, gently

She makes sure to avoid the area around your cuts

You barely hear her hushed reassurances over the thoughts occupying your mind

You know, this is what she likes. Immediately, doubts start to take over

Are you right for her?

Can you be right for her?

When you cannot even grant her this…?

You know, she is sadistic. You know, this is reflected in her personality, and the sex with her

Yet, you’re sensitive

And it just- hurts

You feel your back ache and cry more

Her hand around your waist barely does anything to calm you

Do you deserve the comfort she offers you?

Cassandra, too, thinks similarly

Is she right for you?

Was she too rough?

She tried so hard to hold back

Has she still pushed too far?

Should she not have allowed herself this? Should she not have allowed you to offer such a thing to her?

Are you lost now? Will you be gone?

Will you leave her?

Are you hurt?

Was she unable to control her strength and hurt you too much?

Is she a monster?

You’re sobbing in her arms, yet cling to her

Does she deserve your touch?

She fights to urge to swarm away

“I’m sorry..”, she whispers, a tear slipping from her golden eye

A single moment of vulnerability

You look up at her, puzzled

Does she blame herself?

And she notices your expression, too

Do you blame yourself?

Words clash against one another as both of you attempt to reassure, it’s not the other one’s fault

It brings a small giggle from your lips, which makes her smile softly

It’s as though your giggle is enough to pull her from the darkness of her mind that insists, she is a monster

You reassure her, you aren’t hurt

You reassure, you aren’t leaving her, and you don’t hate her

You reassure her, she is no monster

She reassures you, she isn’t angry

She reassures you, isn’t disappointed

She reassures you, she loves you

With a gentle, caring smile and a concentrated frown on her face, she works on covering the small cuts on you up

You appreciate it, and hum at her surprisingly gentle hands and fingertips ghosting over your skin

While she would have normally proposed a bath, this time you find yourself laying with her

Cuddled underneath the blankets, her arms around you and lips- no longer bloodied- pressed to your head

Giggling as she feeds you some of the snacks she’s prepared, she watches you fondly

You truly are her sweet, little lamb

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #asian anon

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xflippinfrogx · 7 months

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Tickletober Day 5~ “I’m not ticklish”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ FANDOM: Voltron

LEE: Keith

LER: Lance ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ 💙WARNING~ THIS IS A SFW TICKLE FIC, NSFW DNI!!💙

“LAHAHAHANCE STAHAHAP IHIHIT!!!!” Pidge squealed, batting at her attackers hands. Lance was in a very playful mood today and he was on a mission to make all of his friends smile. They’d been up in space for a good few months at this point and we’re all much closer with one another than when they started. The biggest relationship development onboard the ship was between him and Keith, their resident emo as Lance like to call him. It was still new to them both but there was something between them that they couldn’t ignore but neither had mentioned it just yet. Of course days like these definitely pushed them a bit further in their closeness.. as you’ll see.

Soon enough Pidge got a good kick to Lance’s stomach and escaped the clutches of the teams newly established tickle monster. He had already gotten Hunk this morning and Coran very briefly that afternoon but he decided he wasn’t even going to try Allura because she might eject him off the ship. Shiro was busy working on something so he’d leave him be as well.

Only person left was Keith and lucky for Lance he had just entered the room. Lance wondered if he had witnessed his attack on poor Pidge. “Damn she’s got some kick in her for someone so short huh?” Keith commented lightly chuckling to himself. “Or maybe you’re just extremely weak?” He was smirking as he spoke and Lance took this as his opportunity to see if perhaps his cru- friend was ticklish aswell. “You better reign in the attitude Mullet or you’ll be next~” A sly smile made its way to his face as he teased Keith. “Well sucks for you because I’m not ticklish.” He said it so confidently that Lance almost believed him, but he knew Keith too well now to miss the signs of slight panic in his eyes. “Hmm I think you’re lying Keith.” He leaned forward from his chair towards Keith who had sat in front of him on the ground for some reason??

“I promise you I’m definitely not!!” He was getting defensive and Lance could tell. He was going to have some fun with this..

“Alright, well if you’re ‘not ticklish’ then I guess you won’t mind if I do this?” He had moved from the chair to reach his new target. He experimented by prodding Keiths sides, but he kept a straight face. Lance walked his fingers up his ribs and began pinching lightly and Keith looked as if he was close to breaking but the boy was stubborn. It was going to take a little more than this to get him laughing Lance thought.

He didn’t have to search too far because Keith made the dumb decision of practically marking out his worst spot. His arms had automatically hugged around his stomach protecting it from Lance.

“Okay Keith last chance to admit that you’re actually ticklish or else I’m gonna have to do this the hard way..” Lance was really enjoying this, whilst he spoke he grabbed both of his FRIENDS hands and pinned them either side of his head. “Lance really, this is dumb, I mean c’mon i haven’t laughed yet so you’re obviously wasting your time here.” Keith seemed.. nervous as he spoke. ”Well there goes your last chance pretty boy, remember you asked for this.” Lance internally cringed at the nickname but soon forgot about it as he was too preoccupied trying to make Keith laugh. He started by scribbling his fingers over the taught muscles of Keith’s midsection and he could now see him visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. It wasn’t until Lance reached his lower stomach that Keith finally cracked. “Aha I found it!!” Lance cried out with excitement. “LAHAHANCE NOHOHO THIHIHIS ISNT FAHAHAIR!!!” Keith began to twist and buck his torso in attempt to get away from Lance’s very tickly fingers. That was a big mistake because not only was he no further away from his attacker but his stupid shirt had ridden up exposing him even more.

Lance didn’t waste a second and absolutely took advantage of the vulnerable area. He spidered his fingers all along Keith’s waistline relishing in his loud cackles. It was nice to see the usually brooding teen so carefree for once and god his laugh was just amazing. Lance could listen to it forever, but he didn’t put Keith through more than maybe seven minutes of torture. “Not ticklish you said?? Well I think I proved that wrong don’t you Keith?” Lance smiled down at him noticing how content he looked. Lance would give anything to stay in this moment all day. A tiny blush spread across Keith’s cheeks as he smiled shyly up at Lance. His arms were still pinned but neither of them seemed to notice. Then Keith did something he never thought he would..

He leaned up and slowly placed his lips against Lance’s. He quickly pulled away for fear of rejection but Lance immediately let go of his arms and pulled him back into their first kiss. It didn’t last long but to them it was the most perfect kiss either had ever had. Lance smirked his signature smile and spoke up. “Who knew you lying about being ticklish would’ve made this happen..”

“Oh shut up you dork.” Keith chuckled and wrapped his arms around Lance. That’s how Hunk walked in on the two cuddled up on the ground asleep an hour later. He couldn’t have been happier for them.. and himself because Pidge owes him ten bucks.

#tickletober 2023 #sfw tickle #sfw tickle blog #tickle fluff #voltron tickle #Lee Keith #Ler Lance

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toweroftickles · 2 years

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Yo! Since you like Naka-San, do you think you can write headcannons for a game called Billy Hatcher and the Giant Egg?

First of all, like every submission I'm uploading now, I want to apologize for taking so long. XD Secondly, sure! I decided to go with filling out the Tickle Ask Meme for:

Billy Hatcher! Rolly Roll! Bantam Scrambled!

This is because I’ve also been requested to fill out the rest of the ask meme for the Balan Wonderworld cast, and coincidentally, there’s just enough room for all of them. I was a little unsure about these, because most of them honestly just don’t seem ticklish to me. It was difficult to come up with ideas. But I gave it a shot! So this list will also feature:

Jose Gallard! Cal Suresh! Lucy Wong! Eis Glover! Bruce Stone!

1. On a scale of 1-10 how ticklish are they?

8/10

9/10!

8/10, secretly 😉

3/10

5/10 in one spot, 0/10 everywhere else

6-7/10!

5/10

0/10 currently (but he was definitely an 8 as a younger man!)

2. Where is their most ticklish spot(s)?

His feet! And his armpits.

Ditto ^^

His ribs.

Lower back.

He's only got one ticklish spot...on his neck. 👀

Her most prominent feature is her very large belly, so...guess. XD

Between the ribs, especially the lower ones.

Nowhere, sorry. :/ He remembers, from when he was much younger, having very ticklish ears...

3. Which spots are they not ticklish?

The usual places...arms, shoulders, etc.

She's ticklish everywhere!

The usual. Similar to Billy.

He's not ticklish anywhere except his lower back and behind his knees. And even then, those aren't too bad.

Everywhere, except the back of the neck.

She's not that ticklish on her ankles or knees, surprisingly. Shoulders/ears aren't much either.

The thing about Eis is that he's technically ticklish everywhere; it's just that he's not very ticklish anywhere.

Seriously, he's really old. A. Nowhere, B. Even if he was, would you wanna know about it? 🤨

4. What is their laugh like?

It bursts out of him very fast and loud, like sped-up audio of a bird crowing. (0:41)

Very nervous and fluttery. Lots of high-pitched squeaking!

He'll do literally anything to hold in his laughter; lots of grunting, roaring, and puffing through his teeth until he eventually cracks. Then it's loud, bellowing cackles.

Deep in pitch and slow. He laughs through his nose.

He doesn't really "laugh" so much as "yelp much higher than his voice normally goes."

"Boisterous" would be the most fitting adjective. (Like...try to imagine if JonTron was a woman.)

Pretty typical "guy" laugh. One of those chuckles that somehow sounds low and high at the same time.

Dude's an old man; he does that thing where they close their lips and make a noise that sounds like coughing.

Sometimes! Depends on how rough his friends are with him. He's a bit of a mischievous boy and loves to tickle others.

Definitely platonic. While she can't handle it herself, she's always eager to participate in dogpiling on Billy.

Only when he's on the giving end.

Familial bonding occasionally leads to tickles. He doesn't mind.

As an entirely intellectual person, he sees no emotional benefit. Though he doesn't particularly like when it happens to him.

Of course! She enjoys annoying her friends with it, and was known in her college art classes to tickle classmates with her paintbrushes.

Eis doesn't have strong feelings either way, but he sometimes enjoys being a ler.

He thinks of tickling as a way to brighten a sad day.

6. Are they more often a lee or a ler, generally?

He's a ler by nature, but a lee by circumstance. 🤣

Ler.

He definitely tickles more than he himself is tickled.

Not really either, but leans toward ler.

A firm "neither." The thought never even really enters his head.

A ler, but she gets a kick out of it either way! 😊

Ler.

7. Who is someone in their life that they tickle often?

He's usually too worn out to get revenge on his pals (see below), but he does love to tickle Rolly Roll! ^^

Billy.

Billy. He knows how to mess with his best friend.

His wife, and sometimes his son.

He used to tickle his late wife sometimes. But not very often. He was not a very...physically affectionate man.

Lucy is that one in friend group who's touchy and will sometimes poke the others to make them jump. She does it to Leo & Emma a lot.

He definitely likes to tickle Sana. IFYAKNOWWHUTIMEAN 😏👀👌

Bruce has a very kind, grandfatherly nature about him, despite his own barren family tree. He'll tell jokes or goof around or tickle sad children to cheer them up. He tried this on Leo, who hated it, and Emma, who thought it was sweet of him.

8. Who is someone in their life that they get tickled by often?

His friends. They always gang up on him and punish him with tickle torture when he sleeps in or runs late. XD

Billy, of course!

He's been very good at hiding how ticklish he is from is pals; they've only gotten him once or twice.

His wife and son try.

Not really anybody.

Anybody she tickles first. ;)

Sana Hudson. That's pretty much it!

9. Does the word “tickle” or any variation of embarrass them?

Not "embarrassed" exactly; it always makes him a little nervous and giggly.

In normal conversation, no. If someone's teasing her with it, her whole face goes red.

More defensive than embarrassed. It always puts him on high alert and kinda freaks him out.

Of course not! Why would it?

The word kinda makes him uncomfortable, and he doesn't know why.

Nope. It always stretches out that frog-like smile of hers. XP

Nah, he doesn't think twice about it.

What was that, sonny? Can ya speak up?

10. Are they embarrassed about their ticklishness, and do they try to hide/deny it?

Well, the thing is, he's very bad at lying...

Extremely. 😭 She can't hide her reactions for more than a second or two, but being tickled is a huge weakness of hers and she'll do anything to weasel her way out of it.

Uhhhhh, yeah. This is basically a phobia for him. His friends have no idea. 😰

No. He's not sensitive enough for it to really be a problem!

This man takes himself far too seriously. He'll never admit to having a tickle spot.

Pfff; nah! It's fun being ticklish, right?

It's not like he walks around advertising it, but not in particular!

11. Would gentle tickling or rough tickling affect them more?

It's a tie!

Both. :)

Rough; he's extremely ticklish but is still the most physically resilient of the group.

Not really sure. Might depend on the who more than the how.

Gentle. Sneak attacks on his neck are how you get him.

Gentle!

Rough.

12. Is there a specific spot that they enjoy being tickled, either exclusively or more than other spots? What is it?

He sometimes doesn't mind getting his tummy tickled.

NO! 0__o No no no no no! 🙈🫣

He'd rather die than get tickled anywhere.

Probably not...he hasn't really thought about it.

Negative.

She kinda enjoys back tickles, if you're someone she likes. ^^

Uh-uh.

13. Is there a spot that they can’t stand to be tickled, either because it’s just too sensitive, or it’s uncomfortable/painful/etc? What is it?

He doesn't always hate getting his feet tickled, but he can't handle it there for very long.

Her feet. She'll kick and scream. 😆

Tickling causes him pain every time, pretty much anywhere.

Nope, he's got pretty low sensitivity levels.

His neck isn't extremely ticklish, but getting touched there is still physically uncomfortable for him.

There's a rumor that Lucy's got a secret 9/10 spot hidden somewhere around her hips/lower belly, but nobody's found it... 🧐

He's had some past back injuries and generally doesn't like being touched there, but not to the point where it freaks him out.

14. Would they they ever purposefully bug a friend/partner/sibling into tickling them, and if so, how would they go about it?

Hmmm...maaaaaybe...🤪 if he was in the right mood...All he's gotta do is not show up on time...

No way. She bugs Billy (by poking him) all the time, but never if she thinks he'll get her back!

Are you kiddin' me?! 😱

He doesn't seek it out, but sometimes when he's distracted, working in the field, his wife tries to tickle him.

Why would he?

Absolutely! It's not so much that she specifically wants to be tickled; it's that she knows her friends will get her back and she doesn't mind. ^^

He knows that if he tickles Sana she'll retaliate aggressively, so he doesn't need to do much to provoke her.

He used to have an older brother. When he was a little boy, he used to encourage tickle fights.

15. Does teasing affect them?

That always makes him laugh right away, even if the tickles haven't started.

Heck yes; that makes everything sooo much worse. >___< She gets super-embarrassed, and Billy knows it.

That's when the fight-or-flight response kicks in.

Not really.

Mostly it just makes him feel socially awkward. 😒

It might make her laugh a little more, but she has an equal amount of fun either way.

No; it'll make him get you back even harder.

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bythebonefire · 2 years

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🤍 + slaps some grillster in here

Send me a ship and I'll tell you... || Accepting!

Who cooks meals for the other?: I mean this is generally Grillby's role in most ships LMAO. He settles into that housewife role happily, and always makes sure Gaster actually eats proper meals. He probably packs him a cute lil lunch too. Maybe there’s even a note inside telling him he hopes he has a nice day!!! It’s all very domestic.

Who spams the other with memes?: Neither of them really seem like big memelords lmao. I feel like if memes end up in their text chain it’s “do you know what this means??” “No, I have no idea???” “It’s so strange isn’t???” “It really is!!”

Who likes to tidy around the house?: Both of them keep a pretty tidy house, but this again probably ends up in Grillby’s domain, especially because he’s very particular about how he likes things.

Who likes to play pranks on the other?: They don’t really strike me as pranksters either tbh, Sans was prankster enough for the both of them.

Who asked the other to move in with them?: Oh that’s a tough one. I feel like Grillby would be really hesitant to leave the apartment he and Sans shared. For all the painful memories the place carries--it was home. But I do think, especially since we’d talked about how the apartment was only intended to be a temporary place for him and Sans before they got their place outside the city, it might make it a bit easier. It was never meant to be a permanent home. I can kind of see Gaster tentatively bringing it up, and Grillby struggling over it for a long time--long enough that Gaster might assume the answer is no. But in the end, he finally agrees to it, and it’s another shaky step towards moving on with his life.

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride?: Oh always Grillby. You’ve said before that Gaster isn’t quite as much of a music lover as Sans was, so it seems like an area where he might kind of just let Grillbz take the reigns. Funny thing about that though, is that because Grillby is In Love With The Idea Of Music As A Theoretical Concept, he could really be putting anything on. 80s Indonesian punk rock is just as likely as showtunes which is just as likely as spa/meditation music which is just as likely as reggae.

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly?: Are either of them... ticklish? I mean, Grillby might try with his ecto, but idk how successful he’d be...

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies?: Gaster does seem like he’d be the more skittish one, but I also don’t know because like... homeboy’s been behind the fabric of the space-time continuum is he really gonna be spooked by Michael Myers? Either way, they probably holdin’ hands.

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology?: Oh definitely Gaster, if our thread of him casually repairing Grillby’s jukebox is any indication lmao. Grillby is good about repairing some things, but when it comes to like... electronics, he’s a total luddite.

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting?: I mean this is obviously Grillby lmao. But I can see the first time Gaster decides to get a little playful with a spectral hand outside of their house, Grillby’s like. Super proud of him. My little baby kinkster, you’re so precious. <3

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest?: I feel like this varies, but frequently it’s Gaster. Unless the other one needs to be up, they probably let the other sleep.

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking?: Grillby has a lot of cute candids of Gaster while reading or working or sleeping. :B

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything?: Where you keep your wallet, Gaster??? You are made of goop!!! Do you have pockets in the goop??? Where are your pockets, Gaster??? But for real, they both probably remember it most of the time.

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? - If Gaster snores, I’m picturing it sounding like a jammed printer, and that makes me laugh. But idk, I feel like if there’s issues it may be because Grillby is very bright and that might take some getting used to if you’re sleeping in a room with him.

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy?: Gaster would be better probably--Grillby is pretty helpless at video games. He probably doesn’t try tbh, if Gaster were playing something I think he’d just like to watch.

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other?: They don’t have to use the bathroom, so that helps. But probably if Grillby gets up, he’s more likely to wake Gaster since 1) sudden absence of warmth and 2) sudden light source moving around the room.

#multiverseofsouls #m: grillbz #long post ///

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readerstories · 3 years

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Magic Fingers - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

I got so many other ideas for fics with Aaron and male reader, this was just an excuse to write some “shorter” smut while I work on some longer fics. (AO3)

Warnings: smut, clothed sex

Wordcount: 2978

Summary: Working hard on a case you offer to give Hotch a massage, because the man is as stiff and tense as a block of wood. (And maybe you want to get your hands on him, but that’s neither here nor there).

The case had been hard, challenging, brutal, and difficult, which had caused the whole team to work on overdrive for the last few days with very little sleep. Which was why Hotch had ordered everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep, as none of you were going to get anywhere being as sleep deprived as you were.

He had tried to stay behind himself, but you had more or less dragged him back to a car while reminding him that even he was human and needed rest. Back at the hotel, in your shared room (because of course with your luck there wasn’t any single rooms left in the hotel for anyone in the team), you stretch before sitting down on your own bed, Hotch walking over to his.

You could see how tense he was, how much he needed to relax. Which was easier said then done when Hotch took as much responsibility as he did, always making sure everything possible was done to catch the unsub and save anyone who might get in harms way. Which was an admirable trait of his, but you could tell by his posture how stiff he had gotten over the last few days. The way he held himself spoke volumes to you, even though you knew he tried to shield it from the world and keep it to himself.

“Hotch?” He looks away from his jacket, the only item of his suit he has manged to force himself out of so far, while your jacket, shoes, and tie was long gone. You pat the edge of the bed next to where you are sitting, Hotch looks skeptical.

“Come on, you need to relax.”

“What does me sitting next to you have anything to do with that?”

“Let me give you a massage.” He raises a brow and you sigh, shifting so you’re kneeling on the bed instead.

“You’ve seen my resume, you know you I thought about going into massage therapy at one point.” Still, Hotch doesn’t move, so you know you have to do more to convince him.

“Remember when Reid had slept on his neck all wrong that one time after staying up way too late and I helped? Or when Morgan messed up his shoulder when going after an unsub and couldn’t sleep for days, and after a massage he finally could? It was the closest I’ve ever seen the man to weeping. Or when JJ was pregnant and hurting, but after letting me give her a massage she joked that if she didn’t love Will, and I wasn’t gay, she would have married me? Hotch, at this point I’ve given a massage to everyone on the team but you, so, get.”

You make a grabby motion with your hands. Hotch sigh, seeming to finally get how serious and stubborn you were being in that moment. He takes off his tie and shoes on the way over to the bed, but doesn’t do anything else, which makes everything a bit harder, but hey, you’ll take anything you’ll get. As Hotch sits down you’re greeted by the lovely opportunity to stare at his back without him noticing or caring too much, which would have been great, if you couldn’t tell how tense he was without even needing a single touch.

When you touch his shoulders he almost jumps, but he forces himself to calm down. Which doesn’t do much, because the instant your hands are on him you can tell it’s going to take a while and some effort to get him relax.

You slowly, ever so slowly start to move you hand, starting out gently at first to get a feeling for him. And ho boy, those are some serious knots if you’ve ever felt some. Your thumb barely brushes over one with some pressure and Hotch winces. You take a breath in trough your teeth, Hotch truly can’t be feeling any sort of pleasant right now, or really, ever you suppose.

“Hotch, if I really didn’t know any better, I would say your shoulders are made of wood with how stiff they are and how many knots I can feel.” Hotch grunts and starts to move like he’s about to stand up, but you drag him back down so he’s fully sitting again with your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh no, none of that, you’re not moving off this bed until all of them are gone and you can you know, actually be a little relaxed for once in your adult life.” Hotch scoffs, but doesn’t try to move again, which you count as a victory.

For the next, you don’t even know how long, your hands wander, squeeze, and press all over Hotch’s shoulders, loosing muscles and knots as good as you can while kneeling behind Hotch. Hotch is mostly quiet, only letting out sighs and the occasional grunt when an especially hard spot is made pliant.

When you’ve done as much as you can in this position you withdraw your hands, noting how Hotch is slumping slightly more forward now than he was when you started.

“Up the bed please, I can’t reach more like this.” Hotch turns so he can look at you over his shoulder.

“You’ve massaged my shoulders, what mor-”

“If your shoulders are any indication, you need a full body massage, so up on the bed please, front down.” You stare down Hotch, not breaking eye contact for one second. You’ve decided that he needs that massage, even if you have to tackle him to the bed to give it to him. He seems to have sensed this as he sighs, and above all miracles, does as you asked of him. He’s on his front, arms tucked under his head to use as a pillow, you now kneeling next to one hip.

Pleased with yourself, you get to work. You start where you left off from before, somewhere in the middle of his back. The knots there aren’t as bad as his shoulders, you suppose Hotch takes ‘bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders’ literally sometimes, but still you do your best to let your hands work over them until they are smoothed out and the muscles beneath your palms relax.

Over time your hands move downwards, and at some point right above the waist of his pants and his belt, your hands on either hip, they brush a particular point or points which make Hotch draw in a breath. Your hands pause before you speak.

“Sorry, you ticklish there?”

“A little.” Hotch reluctantly admits, mostly speaking at the wall he has been staring at for the last few minutes.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You say as you file that little nugget of info away in a part of your brain you’ve dedicated to Hotch. You make sure to avoid that spot when your hands starts up again, instead moving to his lower back. There you find a knot truly worth your skilled hands, taking several minutes before you can move your hands from that spot. You realize you’ve accomplished your goal there when Hotch lets out a loud groan as you fell his muscles loosen beneath your hands, which you gather was an involuntary sound by the slight redness on his cheeks.

“See, I told you I was good.” Hotch doesn’t responds verbally, but nods, eyes closed now. You don’t say anything else, instead moving to his legs. You start at one ankle, slowly, slowly moving your way upwards, careful not to go to high for both of your comfort. You can tell when that is by a small twitch on Hotch’s leg, just above where you can feel the start of his boxers through his pants, and then you move down. You do however at on point press on a muscle on the backside of his knee that causes the leg to move on its own, which causes you both to laugh.

When both legs are done, you take your hands off Hotch and lean back, noting how his eyes are closed, almost like he’s sleeping.

“Turn around.” This causes Hotch to abruptly open his eyes and look at you for the first time since he laid down.

“What?”

“I haven’t done your front yet, and I’m not about to let you go with a half finished massage.”

“I-I’d rather not.” Looking over Hotch you quickly realize, with your profiling work and previous experience, why he’s not moving yet.

“If it’s an erection that’s nothing new.”

“Wha-”

“Your body is just reacting to stimuli, happens a lot with men, nothing I haven’t seen before. But if you really want to stop, we can of course do that.” You can see Hotch’s mind at war with himself. You say nothing, pretending that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall above the headboard.

It’s the movement of the mattress that alerts you to the fact that Hotch is moving, as the man himself says nothing. When you look at him, he has his arms over his face, jaw and mouth barely visible. What is very visible, is the erction pushing against the front of his pants, and though you would have liked to look, you only give it a glance. Hotch jumps when you touch his ankle again, but you don’t start just yet.

“Relax, like I said, nothing I haven’t seen before. Happens a lot actually, my hands are just that good you know, like a god or something.” Hotch huffs out a laugh, a smile briefly on his lips. You smile back at him even though he can’t see you, and then concentrate back on the task at hand.

Like before, you start at his ankles, working your way up. Hotch gets less tense almost by the second, breathing deepening as your hands work their magic once more. You don’t go very high on his thighs, actually now you’re lower than before, not wanting to make Hotch uncomfortable in any way.

Next is his hips, you start at the one closest to you and work your way up towards his shoulder instead of across his stomach. He still has his arms over his face, so you poke him in the bicep to get his attention.

“Arm please.” Hotch’s sigh is deep, but he moves his arm so you can take it. You’re gentle, well, as gentle as you can be while kneading out knots from tired muscles. His bicep is firm under your fingers, needing a lot less attention than his shoulders luckily.

When you’re done with that arm, you let it go, tapping on his other so he can move that of his face and switch it for the one you finished with. The angle of it is a bit awkward, and you probably should move for easier access, but honestly you can’t be bothered as you’re very close to being finished. However, your knee protests, telling your body that hey, moving is good as not to let limbs fall asleep.

But instead of doing the logical and probably better thing of getting of the bed and walking around, your tired brain decides to just move one leg over Hotch waist, intending to just move the other one over and after. Hotch draws in a slight breath at the motion and then something in your leg fails you, causing you to drop down on Hotch, putting most of your weight on top of Hotch’s crotch. Hotch moans out loud as his hands flies to your lower thighs and you go stock still.

“Fuck shit, sorry Hotch-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it-” Hotch draws in a deep breath and licks his lips as you worriedly watch his face. You’re mortified, you just dropped yourself on Hotch’s erection, holy fuck, shit.

It takes a few seconds to realize that you’re not trying to move of Hotch’s lap.

But Hotch isn’t trying to move you off either.

If anything, he’s keeping you there, a deathgrip on your lower thighs.

You take a few terrifying seconds to take stock of the situation before experimentally rolling your hips against Hotch. A flex of his fingers, but he does or says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. You on the other hand, is watching his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, and we’ll forget about it ever happening.”

“Ah, um, fuck, shit.”

Silence, one, two, three beats.

“Fuck, move.” You start to get off his, heart already dropping to your guts, but instead Hotch drags you down and rolls his hips against you. This time it’s you who gasps, as your own dick twitches in your pants with the feeling of Hotch grinding against you. Hotch throws his head back, eyes screwed shut.

You’re quick to find your balance and leverage by placing your hands on Hotch’s chest, grinding down, moving as best as you can with Hotch’s own movements. Hotch is letting out a few low moans, which you match with your own as you move and watch the adam’s apple on Hotch’s throat move as he swallows. You want to lean down and kiss his neck, but fuck, you don’t know if you even can kiss him, if he will let you.

Hotch answers that question for you, as just seconds later his eyes open and he moves so he can look at you, catching you staring at him.

“Ah fuck.” Before you can even ask, he’s sitting up. You yelp as the movement causes you to straddle his thighs instead, and then in seconds there’s a hand on the nape of your neck, and even fewer seconds later you’re kissing Hotch.

Fuck.

His lips are firm, but pressing against you with a desperation you’re sure to match. His hands on your hips, holding you hard. Your hands go into his hair, tugging him even closer of that is even possible at this point, which causes him to moan low into your mouth which holy shit, that is, fuck, you can’t even think anymore you think.

The world shifts around you then, and you find yourself on your back, Hotch’s erection pressed against your own. It feels so good, so big and firm, and you want to feel more of him, but you can’t muster the brainpower to do anything about it, so you just tug at his hair and grind against him. Hotch seems of the same mind, as he doesn’t move to do much more either, just moving his hips against yours while kissing you within an inch of your life.

Which should be ridiculous, because you’re both grown men almost fully dressed still, but fuck, that makes it even hotter you think. Or, you try to think, as your mind is mostly chants of ‘more, good, fuck, shit, hot’ over and over again, Hotch’s name thrown in the mix for good measure.

Hotch moves away from your lips, but doesn’t move far, instead peppering kissed down your neck on the little skin he can reach. You moan and gasp, moving one hand from his hair to his back, trying to press him even more against you.

“Fuck, shit, I’m close, so close!” You frantically confess towards the ceiling.

“Me too, me too.” Hotch breathes against your neck, one hand moving so he can unbutton your shirt and get his lips on your collarbone. He starts to suck and bite at a spot there, and that is what does you in. You come just seconds after your shirt is open for him, moaning loudly.

“Fuck!” You hear Hotch mutter against your skin, and then a mutter of your name as he comes, in a low baritone that you think you will remember for the rest of your life.

You lay there panting for several seconds, or perhaps minutes, you’re not sure, just a mess of limbs, most of Hotch’s weight on top of you.

It’s hot, in more ways than one, which is what forces you to push Hotch off you, to get some air. He goes willingly, flopping down on his back next to you on the bed. A few panting breaths before you both turn to look at the other, smiles, then laughter as the situation sinks in. You’re surprisingly the first to gain somewhat of a control over yourself, grinning as you speak.

“We just came in our pants, what are we, teenagers?” Hotch pushes his weight up on his elbows, wincing as apparently something pulls somewhere.

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like one.” Hotch smiles as you, which you return, letting your eyes wander all over him now that you can. His hair is standing in a million different directions, there’s a blush to his cheeks, his clothes are rumpled, a wet spot is forming on the front of his pants, and he looks as fucked and blissed out as you, and most certainly he, feels. You hum, your attention going back to his face.

“We should get cleaned up.” You state, which Hotch nods in response.

“I think you mean you should get us cleaned up. My legs feels like jello right about now.” You raise a brow and he grins.

“I think your massage turned off something in my legs.” You huff, incredulous, but sit up anyway.

“I’m good, but not that good.”

“Well, the sex certainly helped.” You laugh and lean down to give him a kiss, which is mostly smiling lips pressed against each other.

“Flatterer.”

“Hey, what can I say, you got magic fingers.” You smack his chest and laugh as you get up to go the bathroom, your own legs a little shaky, which Hotch doesn’t comment on, but you know he liked by the way he grins at you when you get back to the bed.

#aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #smut #lemon #written #male!reader #aaron hotcner x male!reader #male reader #2000

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bonknigirlinthehood · 3 years

Text

What he needs to understand

About: Zhongli was about to go to work when you suddenly throw a tantrum at him, forcing him to stay.

Pairings: Dad!Zhongli x GN!Child!reader

Tags/Warnings: Family Dynamics, father-child dynamics, gender neutral reader, Fluff.

A/N: Another Zhongli and his child fluff. Idk how tf i write this in between his smut fic, and somehow i finished this at 4 am in the morning.

Zhongli had fostered many children under his care throughout his years of living, growing them into an adult that will benefit Liyue. And so, he really was thought it will no different from raising you, his biological child, and yet it turns out to be way more, and more difficult, to raise his own child than foster children as he did back then.

It was a fine morning in Liyue Harbor. Zhongli, a Consultant from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, already prepared to go to work. On the dining table there's food ready to eat, but not for him, It's for his child who apparently just wake up when he was about to leave. You opened the door to the dining room, still sleepy, only to find your father already done wearing his shoes.

"Good morning, dear. Breakfast is ready, you should eat first, Ms.Lianyi will come shortly after" He notices your presence and smiles warmly, but there seems to be something with you because he also noticed your sour expression.

"My dear, is there something wrong?, Are you sick?" He asks worriedly, he immediately took off his shoes again to approach you.

"Why didn't you wake me up before you had breakfast, daddy?" You pout at him, your little dragon tail swinging behind you with upset. "You always like this, I want to have breakfast with you too!"

"I thought you still wanted to sleep?, You seem tired so i thought you need more rest" Zhongli wipes your face and stroke your messy hair, He can see that you are pretty upset, but he cannot understand why, considering usually you have no problem with him letting you sleep more. In fact, he thought all children like to sleep more in the morning, so he is a bit confused on why you are upset.

Zhongli was about to ask you when you suddenly hoofed onto him and hug him tight.

"Don't go to work daddy"

He is even more confused upon hearing it. Why you act like this all of a sudden?, He doesn't understand.

"Dear, why are you suddenly like this?, You know I have to go to work today. I can't stay, besides, your caretaker is about to arrive in few minutes, you should wash and prepare to study"

"I don't want to study!, I don't want to be with Miss Lianyi today!, I want to be with you today!" Suddenly, you start throwing tantrum and whining at him, making him frown in disapproval.

"Y/n, you shouldn't act like this, daddy doesn't like it if you keep throwing tantrum"

Honestly, you almost stop when he said that, but you decided you don't want to stop.

"No!, I don't want you to go to work!, I don't want I don't want I don't want!" You start thrashing on his chest, hitting him with your little fist, much to his dislike.

"Y/n, if you don't stop I will be mad. I was already late, I can't have you throwing tantrum this early in the morning-" Zhongli stops, realizing his harsh tone. He cursed himself mentally and continue talking with lower voice, "..tell me what's wrong, my child"

You stop thrashing, burying your face in his chest, sobbing.

"...don't go daddy..."

Your father sigh, he really doesn't understand what is happening with you today. Usually you are such a good and obedient kid, eating breakfast with your caretaker and either studying or playing for the rest of the day. Is this matter related to him somehow?, Did he do something wrong yesterday to cause you so much upset?.

He was about to ask you another question about it when a knock can be heard from the front door. Realizing who is it, Zhongli immediately picks you up and opens the door. Your Caretaker is here and her greeting smile suddenly turns into worry when she sees you clinging to Zhongli and he hasn’t gone to work yet.

“Did something happen, Mr. Zhongli? Is little bao sick?” she asks worriedly. Zhongli shakes his head, he then invites her to come inside and explain what had happened.

“I...So little baobao won’t let you go to work, and has been clinging to you this whole time?”

Zhongli nodded, despite you still clinging tightly to his neck, his hand also didn't stop supporting your body so you won’t fall.

“That’s right...and I honestly have no idea what wrong I did to her to make her this upset...Do you perhaps have any idea, Miss Lianyi?” He asks, He looks a bit sad and confused mixed, but his strong facade almost made it impossible to notice.

“I...I probably have an idea why little Y/n acting like this” she said, not so sure. But Zhongli immediately snaps his head to face her with a curious expression. "May I hear it, Miss Lianyi?, I think as her caretaker, you may know things I, her father don't" there's a bit of glimmer in Zhongli's eyes, eager to know.

"U-uh...well, Mr. Zhongli, for the times I've been taking care of little bao, I've noticed sometimes, they will always waiting near the window…,waiting for you"

"Waiting for me?" Zhongli raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, I think they were feeling pretty lonely because you rarely at home. You see, you always go to work very early in the morning and go home pretty late at night, causing you two to barely have any conversation. And I think it's pretty normal behavior for children to want their parents to spend more time with them. Little bao must be missed you so much"

Lianyi was done answering, while Zhongli was still trying to digest the newfound information. Throughout his life, every child he had fostered acted very differently, but neither of them ever had such feelings for him. They are always such obedient kids, always eager to learn and be useful for the world. What was the difference?Is it because you are his biological child?So the bond between you two is different?Zhongli needs to understand this or else he won't be able to understand you more. And as a father, it is his responsibility to be able to take care and understand his own child like the back of his hand.

"...Thank you for the information, Ms. Lianyi, I didn't know Y/n was feeling like that this entire time. I should be more cautious about it." He sighs and looks back at you, who are now sleeping again on his shoulder, probably too tired after all the crying. He puts you back to your bed, and after having a brief talk with Lianyi, your caretaker goes back home, leaving you and Zhongli alone. Your father writes some letter for Hu Tao, notifying her he wouldn't be able to go to work that day and asking her to reschedule all of his appointments.

It's already noon when you finally wake up, and the first thing that goes into your head is if you are alone again. You jump out of the bed and run to the living room, but your father is nowhere to be seen. You let out a sulky pout and grumble, but then the door to Zhongli's room opens and the man steps out. He is still using his usual attire, just without the coat. Upon seeing him, you feel so happy because he is finally at home with you, but when you just about to leap into him you immediately feel embarrassed and awkward, knowing he was here because you threw a tantrum earlier that day, causing him to be unable to go to work and being forced to stay at home with you.

When he noticed you didn't come to him and just stay still, he approached you with a worried expression, asking what was wrong.

"My dear…,is there something wrong?Are you still mad at me?Do you want to eat something?"

You fidget your fingers behind your back, your tail hidden between the legs. You didn't dare to look at him, still feeling embarrassed and all despite knowing how soft and kind your father was towards you. And after a few minutes you finally gaining courage to talk to him.

"Daddy..?” you whisper slowly.

“Yes, dear?”

“I-i’m sorry...i didn’t mean to be a bad kid today...i just..i just…” You cannot continue your words, somehow feel too embarrassed to say it. But Zhongli, being as sharp as he is, quickly catch what you meant and smiles softly.

“It’s alright, i understand” He caresses your head, his ungloved hand feels warm and soft to the touch. “I’m sorry, I should understand your needs more. I’ll try to make more time to spend with you together in the future”.

You can feel your cheek feel warmer, mix of embarrassment and happiness. Your plump cheeks are now as red as peach fruit. Zhongli pulls you into a hug, feeling the warmth of your body, and the comfortable feeling of the part of his soul being so close to him, heart to heart. He now understands why his late wife was so nervous and scared to leave their only child in his hand despite knowing how old and cultivated he is. She was scared this kind of thing will happen someday, because raising his foster children in fact, are different from raising his own blood and flesh. You are just almost as stubborn as him and she is probably afraid the two of you won’t get along nicely. But as always, Zhongli finds his ways to solve problems.

“Let’s eat dinner at Wanmin Restaurant tonight” He says, and you smile wide, your tail wiggling happily. “Yes, papa!” you giggles, your father can’t help but feel ticklish in the heart at how sweet your smile is. Right, he swore to protect that smile ever since you were a baby.

“But you need a bath first” He clears his throat, and without waiting for your reactions he just scoops you out from the floor and brings you to the bathroom. You whine and just resigned to the situation as Zhongli scrubs your body (especially your tail) to wash you clean. He always told you that young dragons need to scrub their body a lot because they are constantly renewing their skin to make it thicker and stronger, so you need to take a bath everyday and scrub your whole body to clean out the older skin so it won’t pile up. And Zhongli always likes it whenever he is just done bathing you. Your skin looks brighter and smoother, and your tail looks shinier, much to his liking.

Not to mention how proud he is whenever he gets the chance to show you off to the people of Liyue. They always praise you at how cute and how much you resemble your father, but whenever someone tries to pinch your cheeks he is always quick to hold you back close to him. He sure doesn’t want to let anyone touch his one and only child.

With every passing days, Zhongli always learns something new about you. And even though your little self likes the attention your father gives you, in the future you probably will start hating it, and Zhongli will need another solution to solve your adolescence and puberty. But surely, surely he always enjoys seeing you growing up under his care.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #dad!zhongli x child!reader #genshin impact #family dynamics #zhongli #redwrite

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amitlee · 3 years

Text

I’m Not Sure If I Believe It

Summary: Wilbur finds a spot that sends Dream crashing to the floor. Philza comes to investigate.

Warnings: Swearing and tickles

——————————————————————

Dream sat on a couch in Wilbur’s living room. He’d come to Britain to visit George, but knew he couldn’t leave without meeting his other English friends. So there he was, lounging on Will’s couch along with Phil and Wilbur.

The trio had been together for two days and had gotten along perfectly! Despite the two younger men being chaotic for the majority of the previous two days, they seemed to have tired themselves out and were currently watching a movie.

The calming atmosphere was, unfortunately for Phil, short lived. After playfully arguing over what movie they should watch next, Will and Dream had dissolved into a shoving match to see who would get to pick. Eventually, Dream stood up from his place on the couch and made his way towards where the remote was sitting.

What neither Dream, nor Phil, expected was for Will to quickly stand up and wrap his arms around Dream’s torso to keep him from moving.

The younger male, now trapped in a back hug, began squirming around in Will’s grasp. After realizing squirming would get him nowhere, he decided to lightly bat at Will, accidentally tapping him close to the face. Will gasped and removed one hand to hit back at Dream, whilst still holding him in place.

Phil, who’d been sitting on a chair next to the couch, watched as his two friends began play-fighting again. He laughed along with them but eventually got on his phone to pass the time until they winded down. His scrolling was abruptly interrupted when Dream’s laughter rang through the room as well as taunts from Wilbur.

“Oh really! Right there?” Wilbur zeroed in on the spot on the top of Dream’s ribcage, vibrating his fingers into the muscles and scratching around the bones.

Dream let out his signature wheeze before crumbling into laughter and babbling out half-formed protests.

Wilbur chuckled darkly and crawled his fingers up to scribble Dream’s underarms. Dream’s laughter turned to uncontrollable giggling peppered with squeaks and squeals when Will would unexpectedly drill into the spot. Dream clamped his arms to his sides, lightly trapping Wilbur’s hands.

“Lehehet gohohoho!” Dream whined through his constant giggles.

Wilbur slowed his fingers to give Dream a chance to breathe. “You have me stuck.” He said, quickly wiggling his fingers and then stopping.

Giggles were pulled from Dream once more and continued even after Will had become still. The feeling of the fingers was enough to keep him on edge and made him feel more sensitive by the second. “You are not!” Dream tried to move forward, past the arm still holding him around the waist. He was quickly stopped when Wilbur moved so both hands were on his stomach and wiggling deviously.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Wilbur questioned. He began gently pinching around various areas of Dream’s stomach, making the man try and curl up to lessen the sensations wracking his system.

“Yohohou’re mohohom’s hahaHAHOUSE- WIHIHILL NOHOHOT THAT, NOHOHOHO!”

Wilbur had switched to vibrating his hands in a claw shape on each side of Dream’s belly button button. He leaned his head closer to Dream ear and spoke lowly, “Does it tiiiiickle~”

Dream could barely get a reply out, managing to squeak out ‘yes’ alongside his hysterics. However, whatever semblance of coherence Dream had held onto was quickly thrown down the drain and Wilbur accidentally hooked his index finger in his belly button. His laughter turned silent for a moment before coming back full force with booming volume. He felt his body go limp and slid to the floor.

Wilbur was able to catch him before he hit the ground, gently lowering him and crouching beside him. Will carded a hand through the youngest man’s hair to help him calm down.

Phil stood up to go and look closer at the scene in front of him. He saw Dream’s form curled up on the floor, still shaking with giggles but leaning into Will’s touch. Will was sitting beside him, stroking his hair and watching him fondly.

Wilbur spoke up after a moment, “Holy shit, man! You just fucking collapsed!”

Dream groaned and covered his face to hide his blush. “You were ruthless.” He exclaimed, hesitantly resting his head in Will’s lap, relaxing exponentially when Will rested an arm on his shoulder and continued to play with his hair.

“Well you were going to take the remote.”

“I deserve the remote for what you just did to me!”

“Don’t try and change the subject,” Wilbur grinned. “you melted. And it was absolutely adorable.”

Dream made a noise displaying his feeling of the chosen words. “I did not!” He argued.

Wilbur smirked, he had him right where he wanted him. “I can show you.”

Dream’s eyes widened and he tried to get back up. “No! Nononohoho, I did I DIHIHID!” Dream fell into a giggly panic as Will once again wrapped his arms around him, pulling him so he was laying on his lap and motioning to Phil.

Phil sat in front of Wilbur and Dream, looking towards the pair. “I didn’t see it.”

Wilbur smiled slyly, glad Phil was playing along.

“PHIL! You traitor!” Dream exclaimed while lightly trying to kick Phil.

Phil laughed at the antics, “Alright, but you brought this upon yourself.” He sat right above Dream’s knees, effectively pinning him in place. Phil playfully wiggled his fingers and watched as Dream’s blushed darkened.

Wilbur leaned his head on Dream’s shoulder, “Lets play a little game.” He waited a moment for Dream to refuse in case he truly didn’t want it. “The game is simple. You keep your hands here,” Dream’s hands were guided to clasp behind Will’s head. Will continued speaking, “Phil here will be incharge of giving you all the soft tickles you could ever imagine. The catch is, if those hands come down, he’s going straight for that sensitive little belly button of yours.”

Dream felt his face heat up, knowing he was going to be gently wrecked by his friends until he called quits. “Okay.” He answered meekly, though it did nothing to mask the excitement in his voice.

“Okay.” Wilbur repeated. “Let’s get started.” He nodded to Phil, who rested his hands on Dream’s stomach.

“Why don’t I tell you what we’re going to do?” Phil’s voice had a teasing lilt to it. “I’m going to start on your tummy, gently spidering and scratching around as you fall to pieces. Maybe I’ll poke around a bit just to make you squirm. Then, I’m going to crawl up to your ribs. If you think the rough tickles there were bad, you have no idea what the light ones will feel like. I’ll walk my fingers up your ribs, maybe count them a time or two. After spending plenty of time there, I’m going to spider your underarms. Now, I think this is where you’ll drop your hands and then that cute little belly will be all mine~”

The words swirled around in Dream’s head. The more he listened, the deeper he fell into a flustered haze. He knew his face was bright red, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. But what he could do was feign confidence. “I can take it.” He said with as much confidence as he could manage.

Wilbur chuckled from his position behind Dream. “We’ll see about that.”

Phil began exactly where he promised, Dream’s stomach. He drew shapes to let the man get used to the feeling before stepping it up a notch by scratching both index fingers on either side of his belly button very gently.

Dream tried to hold back his reactions, he really did. But the moment Phil wiggled his evil fingers on his belly, he just couldn’t help but break into soft giggles. The other two cooing at him.

“Breaking already?” Wilbur teased, blowing a stream of air onto Dream’s neck.

“Nohoho!”

“Oh, he’s definitely breaking. I don’t think I’ll be able to do half the thing I planned.” Phil added, tracing shapes on Dream’s stomach once again, this time wiggling them the entire time.

The new technique had Dream giggling uncontrollably. He tried his hardest not to squirm too much for fear of hurting Wilbur’s neck.

Phil gave Dream no time to get used to the feeling. He spidered his fingers up to the base of Dream’s ribs, scratching at the fabric lightly.

“Phihihil!”

“Yes? Was I right?”

“Yehehes! It tihihickles!”

Wilbur grinned, “You’re a ticklish thing, aren’t you?”

“Ohobviohously” Dream fired back with sass.

Phil gasped, “If you can still be cheeky, I’m not doing my job good enough.” Phil started at the bottom of Dream’s ribs, gently pinching and poking them.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Phihihil!”

“Three.”

“Phihil! Phihilza!”

“Hush now, Dream, wouldn’t want me to lose count. Four.”

“Nohoho”

“Five.”

Dream withstood the rib counting until Phil had finished and started over counting once again.

“One.”

“Phihihil, plehehehese” Dream wasn’t sure what he was asking for, but it surely wasn’t for Phil to suddenly pinch at each side of his lower ribs with his pointer fingers and thumbs. His arms jerked down from the shock that jolted through his body.

“Dream…” Wilbur spoke softly by his ear. “Your hands came down.”

Phil spoke up, “He’s right, Dream, you know what that means.” Phil smiled, looking at Dream to make sure they weren’t going too far. Once he was sure Dream was still comfortable, he got right into what had been promised.

Phil stayed away from the death spot that was Dream’s belly button. Instead, he clawed at the area around it. Squeezing and vibrating his fingers similar to what Will had done.

The deviously light tickling had made Dream feel much more sensitive than he usually did. He went straight into near hysterics as Phil tickled all over his stomach.

They found out that if you taser the spot connecting Dream’s side to his stomach, his laughter becomes mostly squeals and the occasional snort, although he can’t handle it for very long.

“Tell me, Dream, how much does this tickle on a scale from 1-10?” Wilbur asked.

Dream just shook his head, bringing his hands to his mouth to try and muffle his laughing.

“Not answering? How rude.” Phil dipped his head down and blew a raspberry on the small pudge below Dream’s belly button. The man shrieked and brought his hands to lightly push Phil away and wrap his arms around his middle.

“THAHAhahat was sohoho mean” Dream complained half heartedly. He curled up and rolled to the side only to have his sides be suddenly tased.

“Oh you’re not going anywhere yet, mister. I’m going to get that belly button.” Phil teased deviously.

“Phihihil plehehease, I can’t tahake it.” Dream blushed, still hiding his sensitive stomach. He was tired and wanted nothing more than physical affection and a nap.

Phil looked at his friend, taking in his appearance and the loopy giggles still flowing from his mouth. He seemed like he could take a little more, but definitely not such a bad spot. “Alright. I suppose we’ll have to take a rain check.” He patted Dream’s leg and got off of him, smiling and nodding to Wilbur.

Wilbur stood and picked up Dream, carrying him over to the couch and setting him beside Phil before sitting on Dream’s other side. Within a few seconds, Dream was being cradled by both Wilbur and Phil, them giving him the physical affection he needed after such a thorough wrecking.

“You did so well.” Wilbur praised, smiling gently at the man when he looked at him with bashful eyes.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. You took it like a champ!” Phil praised as well, wanting the younger man to know how proud they were.

Dream’s eyes shown with undeniable pride and happiness, even though felt rather flustered by all the attention. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Phil said, guiding Dream to rest his head in his lap. Will hoisted up Dream’s legs so he could lay out across both of them and drift off into a well deserved sleep.

“Anytime.”

——————————————————————-

So I’m not completely back, but was in the writing mood. So y’all come get y’all food 💕

#mcyt tickle #mcyt tickle fic #tickle fic #lee!dream #ler!will #ler!wilbur #ler!philzaminecraft #ler!phil #dreamsmptickle #dsmpticklefic

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

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If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

#my writing #tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #mature #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader

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anasticklefics · 3 years

Text

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

#tickling #ticklish!poe #finnpoe #stormpilot #finnpoe fic #star wars #star wars fic #tickle fic #unsaid #mine #ana's fics

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tklpilled · 3 years

Text

mineshaft

a/n: i said i wouldnt write too much lee ranboo bc i have multiple fics already but some of these prompts are too good LMAO sorry

—

Tubbo doesn’t get to go outside very much. Ranboo’s usually off on his mining trips, or doing whatever he does while he’s out, and someone has to take care of Michael while he’s gone. Tubbo doesn’t really mind it too much, though, because he loves spending time with his son. Still, he likes the times when he does get to leave the house.

For a baby, Michael sleeps for a long time, at least when Tubbo actually gets him to sleep. He figures it has something to do with how cold Snowchester is, but whatever the reason, he’s not complaining. He finally gets Michael to settle down for a nap and leaves the mansion as quietly as he can. He’ll have to be back fairly soon, but for now he figures he can take some time to himself.

He decides to just take a walk around the area, and he runs into Tommy on the way, which makes everything better. The two of them walk around the SMP, investigating tunnels and caves.

They’ve been exploring the same cave for a few minutes before they see a bit of light up ahead.

“Look.” Tubbo points. “Probably lava, we might be able to find some diamonds.”

Tommy nods, grabbing his pickaxe just in case. They run ahead, though not too fast in case there’s a sudden drop. Neither of them really feel like dying today.

The light, however, isn’t from lava. There’s a mineshaft, well-lit and very pretty. What catches Tubbo’s eye the most, however, is the tall hybrid mining off to the side.

He nudges Tommy and shushes him before he can speak, gesturing to his husband. He begins sneaking away towards him, and Tommy seems to catch on and joins him.

Ranboo puts down his pickaxe as they draw near, stretching his arms and taking a little break from what must have been hours of mining. Tubbo steps up behind him, jabbing his fingers into his sides.

Ranboo yells. It’s more of a squawk, really, but it’s loud either way, and the two of them are laughing as he spins around.

“Wh- what did you- why are you here?” he stammers, eyes wide.

Tubbo shrugs, still smiling as Tommy continues laughing behind him. “We were exploring. Why are you here is the better question,” he says, reaching to poke Ranboo’s sides again.

“Ihi- I was mining.”

Tommy steps forward, aiding Tubbo in the poking. “You should probably take a break, big man.”

Ranboo bats at both of their hands. “I’ll be dohone soon, I swear!”

Tubbo gives him the Pleading Eyes. “Ranboooooo.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Soon!”

Tubbo and Tommy share a look. “Well, guess we’ll have to convince you.”

Laughter fills the air once again, but this time it belongs to Ranboo. They both start tickling him at the same time, Tommy skittering his nails from the enderman’s hips to his ribs while Tubbo scribbles at the sides of his stomach. Ranboo lets out a loud chirp before he bursts into laughter, doubling over and eventually collapsing to the ground. His friends follow him down, not relenting in their attack.

“Dohohon’t! N- nohoho—”

Tubbo coos at him. “Aww, someone’s a little ticklish!”

The tease causes Ranboo’s cheeks to heat up. He brings his hands up to hide it as his tail swishes happily behind him. “Shuhut uhup!”

“Just agree to take a break and we’ll stop!” Tommy says, then a smirk grows on his face. “Unless you don’t want us to?”

Ranboo shakes his head. “Noho!”

“No, you don’t want us to stop? Good to know,” the blond comments as he squeezes Ranboo’s thigh and knee with one hand.

“Nohot whahat I meheheant!”

Tubbo cuts in. “You aren’t telling us you want us to stop, though.” He’s right, but if the gentle tickles right below his ribcage don’t stop soon, that might change. Still, he tilts his head back and lets the nonstop giggles spill out, enjoying the sensation more than he’d like to admit.

“C’mon, Ranboo, you’ve gotta be quieter,” Tommy scolds him playfully.

“Yeah, what if there’s a zombie around? We can’t have anything hearing you,” Tubbo adds. “Maybe they feed on adorable laughter like yours.”

Ranboo shakes his head more, using both hands to cover his face and muffle any sound that might come out. It just makes Tubbo and Tommy coo at him more, though.

“Fihihine, Ihi’ll take a breheheak! Cuhut it ohohout!” he calls after a few more minutes. Normally he can handle more than this, but he’s exhausted already from mining.

They back off immediately, standing up and stretching as if nothing happened. “Great,” Tubbo says, “I should probably check in on Michael, it’s been a while.”

Ranboo, despite not having fully recovered, scrambles to his feet. “You leheft him at home?”

“He’s asleep, it’s fine—” Tubbo begins, but Ranboo is already rushing off, mumbling something about how irresponsible his husband is through his giggling.

He turns to Tommy and shrugs before following him out.

#my writing #my fics #arty writes #tickle fic #d/smp #lee!ranboo #ler!tommy #ler!tubbo #mcytickletober

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fanfic-chan · 3 years

Note

hi friend !! could i please request a fic of lee hinata and ler nishinoya where nishinoya's just being playful with hinata (maybe like he's lightly teasing hinata about being a star player but complimenting him on a game well won at the same time, you know how he is lol)

Ahhhhh this prompt was so so fun! I'm really glad it got to be my first Haikyuu fic because I really love how it turned out! I did end up having Tanaka help out a bit towards the end, but Noya is definitely the main ler for sure! I hope that's ok!^^`

A Mischievous Senpai

Ler: Noya

Lee: Hinata

"Come on Hinataaa~! What are you running for? I'm not going to do anything~!"

"Yes you are! Stay away from me!"

"Sorry, not gonna happen buddy! You might as well give up now! I'm gonna getcha eventually you know, and when I do-"

"No you won't! I'm way faster than you! You'll never take me alive!"

The two shortest crows of Karasuno had been going back and forth in this way ever since the busride back from one of their practice matches against Nekoma, which they had won.

Kageyama had seemed far more wiped out after the game than usual and had pretty much crashed the second he'd sat down. Hinata, however, was still going strong with victory adrenaline, and in an effort to reduce the chances of him waking up their first year setter and making him angry, Suga had quietly pulled Noya aside and asked if he could sit with their kohai on the way back in order to avoid any kind of conflict. After all, the two boys shared such similar energy levels that Suga was secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would end up wearing eachother out so much that by the time they got to the facility they were staying in for the night, they would be so exhausted they would both crash like toddlers.

That did not happen.

In fact, the two of them had only seemed to have energized eachother even more since then, especially after Noya's little 'discovery'.

It had all started when their libero had been complimenting the first year on how well he'd played that night, going on and on about his jumping and his spiking, even going so far as to poke him in the side for emphasis when his kohai had started to get bashful. This had led the younger player to yelp in surprise and giggle involuntarily before he could stop himself. The instant Noya had realized what was happening, his eyes had immediately lit up in excitement.

He would have taken full advantage of this new information right away too if not for the fact that they had arrived at their destination, and Hinata had instantly made a run for it, somehow even managing to be the very first person off the bus despite the fact that they'd been sitting near the back.

Noya, being the persistent type of person that he was, had decided to bide his time and wait until he could corner his underclassmen again, knowing full and well that there was no way he'd be able to capture the little speed demon if he had room to run.

The opportunity he was waiting for arrived later when the first years came into the room where they had their futons laid out, having finished bathing and getting ready for bed. Hinata, for his part, seemed to have completely forgotten about the situation on the bus, but Noya had been waiting for him, and by the time the redhead noticed the libero, hands formed into claws and a devious look in his eyes, it was already far to late. Tanaka was already teaming up with Noya by blocking the door and there were no third years in sight to save him from his fate. So he did the only thing he could think of and did his best to outrun his senpai in the limited space he had, trampling over futons and dodging around the few people who were present to witness their chaos.

He had been hoping to last just long enough for Suga or Daichi to come back and rescue him, but it was all over when he suddenly tripped over something after zooming past Tsukishima and Yamaguchi for the fourth time.

No sooner than he flopped face first over a row of their futons had Noya gotten on him, and he squealed in ticklish agony when his senpai dug into his sides mercilessly.

"GYAHAHA!! NOHOHO! NOYA SENPAIHIHI!!!

"Ha! I got you now Hinataaa~! Now you're gonna get it!"

The poor middleblocker tried his absolute hardest to squirm away, but the only thing he could manage to do was flip himself over onto his back, which he immediately regretted because it only gave Noya more access to his most ticklish spots, and he cackled hysterically when the older boy dug into his armpits, stomach, and ribs. It wasn't until he started hiccupping a bit that his upperclassmen decided to show him some mercy and give him a break, however, he never got off of him and his mischievous smirk never went away, which gave Hinata the impression that he wasn't safe just yet. Oh God where was Suga when you needed him?!

"I can't believe you actually tripped him Tsukki!"

"They were being far to loud, and it was obvious that neither of them were going to stop until Hinata either escaped or Nishinoya finally caught him. Might as well have sped up the process, and it was far to easy just to stick my foot out and trip the moron. Besides, it's also pretty amusing to see him being put in his place too."

Hinata whipped his head around to look at his two teammates, a look of outrage and betrayal slowly taking over his features as he started to put the pieces together after hearing their conversation. It was Tsukishima's fault that he'd tripped! He was the reason he was at the mercy of his upperclassmen right now!

"Tsuhuhukishima you jeheherk! Thihis is all your fauhauhault! Just wait until I get out of thihihis! I'm gohonna- AIEHEEEE!!"

Hinata's declaration of war on his fellow first year was rudely interrupted all of a sudden when he felt his arms suddenly being pulled up over his head and pinned there, and he looked up to be met with the mischievous grin of Tanaka.

"Hey Noya. Looks like he's recovered pretty fast! But just in case, maybe he'd like some raspberries to get his strength back?"

Huh? Why would he want- Oh crud! No! Not that!

"Dude that's a great idea! What do you think Hinata? Hmm? Do you want some raspberries!? Hmm?! Do ya?!"

"NO!"

"Is that a yes?"

"NO! PLEAHEAHEASE!!!"

"Oh did you hear that Tanaka? He said please! He must really want them then!"

Hinata struggled uselessly when he felt his senpai lifting his shirt up and started giggling hysterically when he saw him slowly lowering his face to his belly, kicking his legs out behind him in the hopes of getting enough traction to wriggle free. No such luck, though, in all honesty, he wasn't actually trying that hard.

"Noya! No! Pleahehease! Don't do it! Don't- PFFTAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAP IT! NOYA-SAN THAT TIHIHICKLES!! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!"

Despite his loud protests when Noya finally blew the first raspberry over his bellybutton, it was still pretty obvious to everyone in the room that the redhead was having the absolute time of his life right now. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink and his smile was wide and genuine. Even Tsukishima himself couldn't help but think it was endearing, though he obviously kept those thoughts stubbornly hidden under his smug smirk.

Finally, after a few more minutes of torturing his poor underclassmen, he seemed to recognize that he was starting to reach his limit and let up, motioning for Tanaka to let go of his trapped arms as he backed off, and Hinata immediately curled into a little ball the second he was free, giggling happily to himself.

By the time the third years did show up, Hinata had already fallen asleep with a dozing Noya running his fingers gently through his hair, a soft smile on the middleblocker's slightly flushed face even as he slept.

Okay. So maybe Suga's original plan of them exhausting eachother had worked afterall, just not in the way he'd originally thought.

#haikyuu tickle #sfw #sfw tickles #ler!Nishinoya #lee!hinata #first Haikyuu fic #tickle fic

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

Text

Laugh Out Loud (SK8 the Infinity)

Summary: See above.

A/N: The video referenced in this fic can be found here. Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,676

~~~

It started out a soft snicker – extremely common for the blue-haired Langa. Reki grinned to himself as he continued to browse the internet with his phone, barely aware of Miya showing Langa something on his until those soft snickers became louder giggles, followed eventually by wheezing laughter. When Reki finally looked up to see what was going on, he was shocked to see Langa nearly in Miya’s lap, doubled over with hysterics, tears streaming down his face.

Reki knew immediately just seeing it once would never be enough.

“Yo, Miya,” he said, barely able to contain his own mirth just for watching Langa get lost in his. “What are you showing him?”

“Some video I found. It’s kind of old but it’s this American lady acting like a total five-year-old.” The younger boy stared at the helpless Langa in his lap and chuckled. “I mean, I thought it was kind of dumb, but apparently Langa thinks it’s hilarious.”

At that moment the lady in said video yelled something through her own laughing fit, which Reki could barely hear, as Miya didn’t have the volume up very loud. Neither of them knew what she said since she was speaking English, but Langa knew, and in the next moment he flopped himself onto Miya’s lap entirely, bursting into the loudest laughter either of them had ever heard from him.

It didn’t take long for Reki and Miya to follow his lead. By the time the video was finally over, all three of them were laughing up a storm – Langa from the video, Reki and Miya from watching Langa.

“Dude,” Reki wheezed once he’d finally regained his breath. “What was so funny?”

“The – the vihihihideo!” Langa laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. He pushed himself back up and sucked in a huge breath of air. “Cahahan you forward that to me? I’ve got to see it again!”

Miya smirked. “Sure. Here, slime – I’ll text you the link.”

“Thanks.” Langa bit his lip to try and control himself, but when his phone buzzed and he saw the link, he burst into giggles again. “Oh, god, why did you show me that? I’ll never recover!”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Reki beamed. “I’ve never heard you laugh so hard, Langa. I didn’t even know you could be that loud!”

Langa merely pressed play on the video, immediately dissolving back into a wheezing giggle fit that had him toppling against the arm of the couch.

Reki gave up on conversation, realizing his friend was way too far gone to even think about communicating at the moment. But he swore on his love for skating he’d hear Langa laugh like that again if it was the last thing he did.

A few weeks went by, during which time the novelty of the video simmered down and Langa stopped finding it nearly as hilarious, but still amusing. In the meantime, both Miya and Reki joined forces to try and find more videos that would make him laugh his guts out again.

When videos didn’t seem to be working, they moved to memes and funny pictures. When that didn’t get a huge reaction, they tried lame joke books, which failed even more since Langa didn’t know enough Japanese to understand why half of the jokes were funny. Miya was ready to give up the endeavor, but Reki wasn’t. He wanted to hear that loud laugh again. He wanted to record it on his phone and use it as a ringtone. He wanted to play it in the dead of night when he was feeling alone. He wanted to hear it all the time. Langa’s laugh was perfect. He wanted more of it.

Think, Reki! What’s a guaranteed way to make him laugh really hard like that? What haven’t we tried?

Then it hit him. At first he shook it off, but the more he considered it, the more it made sense. It was always the quiet ones you had to look out for, right? Reki beamed. He imagined Langa was probably super ticklish; so ticklish he’d squeal if you even poked him. The redhead had to admit, he desperately wanted to be right about this new thought of his. He decided the only way to know was to test it out.

So one evening when they were hanging out alone at the park where Langa had first learned to skate, Reki put his plan into action. He said, “You know, Miya and I have been trying to find other things that would make you laugh as hard as you did when you saw that Chewbacca video for the first time.”

“Oh,” Langa replied softly, nodding. “That explains all the random videos and pictures. And those really lame jokes.”

“You just laughed so hard at that.” Reki beamed at him. “We wanted to see if we could find something to make you do that again.”

“Was I laughing that hard? Huh. I didn’t really think about it, I guess.”

“So I decided that there’s probably only one way to really make you laugh like that again, since all of our masterful plans have fallen through thus far. We have one hope left.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Langa asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Reki smirked at him. “Tickling you.”

Langa’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“Tickling you! It’s so obvious. You are ticklish, aren’t you, Langa?”

The blue-haired boy suddenly turned pink in the cheeks. He was frozen to the spot, like a deer in headlights. “Um…I…I think so, but…”

“Great!” Reki lunged for him, pushing him onto his back and grabbing his arms, holding them out at his sides so he couldn’t fight back. “Then which spot makes you laugh the hardest? Where are you most ticklish?”

“Reki, please, I…I haven’t been tickled in a long time,” Langa said, his voice hushed and nervous. “I don’t know the answer to that.”

“Well, let’s find out!” Reki let go of his arms to dig his fingers into the taller boy’s sides. He grinned triumphantly when he got a snort and some giggling in return for his efforts. “You’re ticklish here, at least.”

“Reheheheki!” Langa whined, clamping his arms down when the redhead traveled up to his ribs and underarms, testing new spots in rapid succession. “Reki, plehehehehehease!”

“Let’s see…your sides are pretty ticklish, but your ribs don’t seem as bad. Your armpits are a good spot, though.” Reki dug in a little harder, enjoying the squeal that erupted from his usually soft-spoken friend. “Tickle, tickle!”

“Dohohohohon’t tehehehease me!”

“All right, all right, fine.” Reki chuckled, moving quickly back down his torso to his belly and hips, then even further to his thighs and knees. Langa squeaked and yelped and giggled at nearly every spot tested, but never did anything more than laugh softly. Though he seemed to be ticklish everywhere, he didn’t appear to be oversensitive in any particular place. Reki was a little disappointed, but honestly, he was just happy to have a way to make Langa smile.

The last spot Reki tried was his feet, which got the biggest reaction thus far. Langa shrieked and laughed, squirming and kicking in an attempt to break free from the torturous tickles, and Reki had a hard time keeping up with his flailing. Still, he kept at it for a few moments before returning to his upper body, pulling Langa’s shirt up to his chest, exposing his bare belly.

Langa sputtered a half-indignant, half-embarrassed, “W-What are you doing now?”

“Just one more test,” Reki promised. “Then I’ll let you go.” He squeezed Langa’s bare sides, then held each of his wrists to the ground as he took a huge breath and blew a raspberry right over his belly button.

To his surprise – and excitement – Langa absolutely screamed with laughter.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA REHEHEHEHEHEKI!! WHAHAHAHAHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOHOHOING?!”

“Making you laugh, obviously!” Reki giggled. “Looks like I’ve hit the jackpot!” Then he blew another one, and instantly he was transported back to the moment he first heard his friend laugh so hard he cried, gasping for breath all the while. Only this time, he was also pleading for mercy.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! NO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE!! REHEHEHEHEHEKI, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Langa begged through his hysterics, and when Reki looked up at him, he was pleased to see that his pink cheeks had turned red and tears were threatening to spill at any moment. Langa gulped in a huge breath of air. “P-P-Please, n-not raspberries, I c-c-can’t take them – please, Reki!”

Reki merely gripped his wrists tighter. He smiled. “One more. Then I’m done, I promise.”

Langa whimpered, but he was smiling wide. “Nohohoho, no…”

Reki made this one count. He took in the most air he could, then let it out as slowly as he could, drawing out the raspberry for as long as he could manage, reveling in Langa’s screaming, loving the sound of his helpless laughter.

Finally – as promised – the redhead let him go, gently pulling his shirt back down and rubbing his tummy gingerly. “Okay, I’m done. No more tickling for today.”

“T-Today?” Langa asked incredulously, groaning as he sat up, shoving Reki’s hand away playfully.

Reki beamed at him. “Well, I can’t promise I’ll never tickle you again. I’ll probably do it tomorrow, if I’m being honest. I just love your laugh, Langa. I want to hear it all the time.”

Langa blushed, averting his eyes. “It’s nothing special, Reki. I mean, it’s just a normal laugh.”

“It’s not normal. It’s better than normal.”

“Well…all right. But if you’re going to start tickling me, then you’d better watch your back.” The blue-haired boy winked at him. “I’m not above getting revenge.”

Reki felt his stomach turn excitedly at the words. He giggled before he could stop himself, then slapped his hand over his mouth.

“Oh? You think I’m joking?”

“No! I think you’re being perfectly serious.”

“I am.” Langa smirked, wiggling his fingers teasingly at his friend, watching him squeak and scramble away with amusement. He laughed again, on his own this time. “I’ll get you back for this, Reki. Just you wait!”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #sk8 the infinity #reki #langa #renga #cute #fluff #playful #teasing #raspberries #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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bokugaos · 3 years

Text

Afloat

length: 2.3k

tags: nsfw; pwp, daichi x f!reader x kuroo, threesome, masturbation, fingering, mating press, creampie

a/n: tis a long (literally 2 months eye— sorry > overdue piece for my babe ;; my ride-or-die @mrs-kuroojinguji ana, kuroodai’s main!! ilysm bitch ♡ ♡ bc HEEEEY NEW YEAR, NEW ME !! no more procr-ass-tinating ╰(*´︶`*)╯

It’s simple:

They know how to make you feel good.

They’re the only ones who can make you feel that good.

The thing is, although you want it, and need it, and when you get it you simply melt, it’s hard for you to admit it to himself or to anyone else. Even when you can sense it spreading down to your core, crawling under your skin in the way that you get too snappy, when you start getting antsy while preparing for your tests, when you carry around the sleepless nights of the busy weeks of your projects with the drooping line of your shoulders.

You go through so much, thinking you can and should be able to deal with everything on your own. But time and time again, Daichi reminds you that’s not the case. He knows that you can do anything you set your mind to; but he will always be there to help you de-stress and take your mind off things.

He had an arrangement with Kuroo, established long before this came to light. A product of long days and nights spent trapped in the same places together despite their different jobs. They're friends, secure in the knowledge that they’ve got each other’s back no matter what. Neither would cross the line unless it’s called for. And Daichi did call it.

When Kuroo first showed up, he had walked in on the two of you with slick mouths all over each other. You were clueless as ever and Daichi was frozen in place—he was prepared that Kuroo wouldn’t come—but the man crossed the distance with impatient strides.

Now, they both keep you afloat.

And you don’t always need this kind of attention—they’re simply more than happy to provide it.

Now if only you would stop being such a brat about it. Even when you’re already so wet, even when Kuroo has already pried you open and stuffed you with his fingers, you still want to talk back.

Good thing they like a challenge.

You’re pulling away, crawling to the edge of the bed to reach for Daichi, but your effort is rendered futile the moment Kuroo curls his big hand around your ankle and pull you back down the bed with a kind of ease that has your stomach tied in knots and put a satisfied smile on the other man’s mouth while he palms his cock.

Kuroo chuckles, curling an arm around one of your thighs and flips you back around until you’re on your side, leg helplessly hooked around the bend of his elbow.

“How naughty,” he purrs at you. He shuffles closer, fingers of his other hand diving back down to your well-slicked hole. “Need to be taught a lesson, maybe?”

You’re torn between shaking your head and scowling fiercely but your already heated cheeks are going even darker with a flush. Your eyes are glittering as you look back at him, glancing at the strong line of his jaw to the wide set of his shoulders. You turn to stare at Daichi instead, his thighs, and quickly look away again—caught looking—when he flexes for you.

Kuroo smirks and shuffles closer. His cock is flushed and rigid, swelling a bit fatter than usual; though not as girthy as what Daichi is packing, its length could reach the sweetest spots inside you that make you shake uncontrollably.

He takes himself in hand and starts dragging its head against your nice little pussy you have offered up before nerves got to you and you try to be cheeky.

Daichi is watching from the side of the bed, gloriously naked and cock in hand; eyes travelling as much across your tiny body as they are tracing Kuroo and his effortless dominance he reigns over you.

Maybe spread your legs and push your knees up to their shoulders just to humiliate you.

You’re already sweaty and breathless; and the two haven’t even properly begun.

Kuroo leans forward, hooks your leg across his shoulder to have his arms free, then pushes in. Your tits sway with the motion and both men immediately stare at them. He sighs as he starts to easily fuck you, and you startle when Daichi’s hand curls around your ankle, not unlike Kuroo did moments before, and easily pulls you closer across the already rumpled sheets.

You could kick at him and try to squirm away, but it would be equally futile. The thought excites you inordinately but you made no move nor said any words, only a glazed and needy look on your face.

You are nothing but their slut and… it feels good. They take care of you how they want you; Daichi likes to see you stretched out next to the other man close enough that you can curl your palm around his cock. Your hands are small, barely able to wrap itself around his girth, but they are pretty looking. And incredibly soft.

But now you have your hands unthinkingly curled against Kuroo’s shoulders, looking up at him with heavy lidded eyes and breathing deeply. You glance at Daichi, and your face goes all soft and warm.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Daichi praises you and flush, pink and humiliated.

He is stern when he wants to, but he’s yet to have actually hurt you. You don’t think he has it in him to be too harsh on you, apart from the rough fucking he always grants you with.

Kuroo leans forward, hands braced on your hips as he picks up his pace. You stretch for him and bare your throat, groaning deep in your chest when his cock slides deep and almost too easy. He could lean forward and bite at your shoulders and neck. Give you warm ticklish licks on your nape, or the patch of skin under your ear.

But he can’t take his eyes off of your swaying tits and the soft jiggle of your belly, visibly contracting with every thrust forward.

You’re easy for them; stroking their egos by coming quick and gracious with little incentive given. It’s the only testament to your beauty; your body is deliciously sensitive and they love exploiting it. Have your thighs nearly bust their skulls or squeeze their neck so hard when you lose control and come so hard you squirt.

They are very determined to make up for lost time.

“That’s it,” he groans as his hand starts to stroke his cock faster, his voice getting your nipples tight and excited. You’ve been primed to his voice to an embarrassing degree. “So well… such a good girl.”

You try to stifle your moans so that you can focus on the sound of his voice, throw one arm across your eyes so it’s harder for them to see your flush. Daichi breathes deeply and nods quickly, a bit overeager when Kuroo looks questioningly at him, wondering how far they should go tonight. Daichi smiles in satisfaction.

He can’t even remember you ever having been as flexible as you are now, folded in half before Kuroo mounts up on you again, but he knows you always do your best for them. You may have been shy and hesitant, only sticking to missionary and the likes, but that was once upon a time. If you mind the sharp hip bones and hard muscles poking at you while you’re getting put through your paces, you do not show it.

You do, in fact, not look like you’re in the position to notice much of anything anymore. Your face is a dull brick red and sweaty, hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks as you try to wheeze through the new position as your knees are nearly at your shoulders.

Daichi watches as Kuroo’s hands cradle your head. They look too big on your face; you look like a puppy that still has to grow to fit into its owner’s loving arms. He clumsily wipes the hair out of your eyes while his hips pump down into the wet mess of your hole. He’s already filled you up with a couple loads—fucked even more of them out of you—but he does not seem to be done by a longshot.

This, at least, Daichi wants to burn to his mind. Being so endlessly horny; bursting with energy. Spending the first half of the night fucking his hand just out of the sheer pleasure he gets when he watches the fellow former captain rail you onto the mattress, your faces so close you are practically sharing the same warm puffs of air.

“You’re so beautiful,” Daichi hears his own voice drawl. It’s surreal. You are making a weird sound in response; a long, drawn-out whine that rattles weirdly in your throat before it breaks and you scream out Kuroo’s name again, while your glassy eyes are unfocused and soft, staring up at him with undivided attention.

He knows that look well, and he feels himself tense in anticipation, leaning forward on the chair he’s pulled close enough to the bed that his knees are hitting the edge of it.

“How does it feel, baby girl?” He croons. He wants to reach out and touch you as well, but he likes the look of Kuroo’s broad, damp fingers playing with the brown strands of your hair, then drifting down to rudely squeeze your breast. “Come on, tell us how you feel.”

He catches Kuroo’s curious glance for a second but does not elaborate further. The latter jumps on it like a dog on a bone, predictably. Daichi does not need to do more than stand back and enjoy the show as he braces himself next to your hand and pushes himself up, staring down at you.

Daichi can see your legs wiggling pathetically in the air when Kuroo stops dicking deep into the sloppy mess he’s made of you, where your toes were just curling, feet bouncing in the air just seconds ago—but he just wants to give you a breather. Let you rest for a minute or so while your body calms down.

“Yeah? Wanna tell us something?” There’s a glint in Kuroo’s eyes; not teasing but close to it. Something sharp and hungry and less affectionate than Daichi. He’s been impatient, not wasting a second longer to get his dick wet in your hot cunt, and he’s not pretending he likes to wait either. You do not seem to mind it; if anything, it probably gets you all the hotter and needier… makes you debase yourself underneath him.

Let him slap your tits and pinch your ass and as you drift in and out, listen to Daichi’s orders to tell you to lift it higher so Kuroo doesn’t have to work so hard.

You’ll do it all just to get a nice deep dicking with their cocks in a way that nothing else can quite satisfy, not yourself, not anyone else. They don’t like it when you do, anyway, and it’s not as if either of them would ever let you meet any other men, let alone fuck them.

Daichi has always been soft for you; he can’t help wanting to coddle you and croon at you and make love.

“Come on, tell me.” Kuroo is not even out of breath. He pulls back, dragging his cock out of you in a slow, wet motion that produces a nasty squelching sound as more cum bubbles out; fucked frothy by him already.

You squawk, undignified, trying to grab for him, but Daichi slaps your hands away.

“Please, Tetsu, please...” You are more than eager to give them what they want as long as it’ll get you filled up again. You moan deep and rattling in your heaving chest, trying so hard to keep your hands to yourself. “W-Want your cock!”

Daichi pauses for a second, his mouth parted in a small ‘o’ of surprise before it stretches in a big smile, one that can be mistaken as nothing else but love and affection, right before he lets out a scoff. It usually takes more time to work you up to this, no talking back to them, using your every breath to beg.

“Oh fuck. That’s it, hm? You want his cock back inside you?”

Kuroo makes a move right away, not paying attention to you trying to grab at him and places your hands at the backs of your thighs to have a better leverage to fuck back into you with a sharp, deep thrust that has you jerking and throw your head back.

You scrabble at him, finally able to curl your hands around his biceps. You are holding on for dear life as he starts fucking again in a way you remember too well; sharp and fast thrusts as he chases his own orgasm and completely forgets that the warm hole around his dick belongs to a person.

You don’t seem to mind. You are chanting his name now, voice wobbling in time with the quick thrusts that seem aimed at fucking right through your belly button. Daichi watches it happen with a quiet, pulsing kind of affection. His cock is red and flushed, having grown even bigger as he strokes it with his palm, leaking into his hand.

He cannot bring himself to treat you with as little gentleness as Kuroo does, but it sure is nice watching someone do it… fuck you right through your orgasms and not give a damn about your mewling about not being able to take anymore, trying to wriggle away; Kuroo just grabs you and dicks you through it until you become lax and glassy-eyed again.

It is, quite frankly, a revelation. This is his favorite thing to do.

#daichi smut #kuroo smut #daichi x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader smut #daichi x reader smut #kuroo x reader smut #sawamura daichi #kuroo tetsurou

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Note

heelloo~ congrats!!!! could i get a teenage wanda x teenage fem!reader getting caught making out by the avengers and they are supportive? fluffy please 🥺🥺🥺

Wanda x f!Reader fluff

• You and Wanda... You just hit it off right away. Fast friends with lots of common interests; you were glad to finally have a friend who understands you, she was happy you weren't afraid of her and treated her like a normal person. With her being both a superhero and so young, it was hard to find friends with shared experiences.

• The Avengers, her new family, welcomed you warmly. Tony joked - you quipped back despite being starstruck by Tony literal Stark, Steve, Sam and Bucky were the most polite gentlemen and Clint and Nat had subtly made sure you weren't bad for Wanda - it was obvious both spies cared a lot for the little witch. You quickly became a frequent visitor in Tony's tower.

• It wasn't exactly a secret that you liked girls, however, Wanda was much more reserved about her dating life, especially around others. She frequently said she was afraid they would overreact and potentially scare her partner away. But even despite that, you ended up together.

• Nobody batted an eye - you already spent a lot of time together. You went on dates, made out in the local park, held hands at the ice rink and cuddled up in the back row of the movie theater. Somehow, the exact nature of your relationship went over the heads of the other superheroes and all of them still referred to you as "Wanda's friend" instead of girlfriend. Which was fine, neither of you really cared about the labels.

• "Wanna come over? Everybody is busy, I'm bored out of my mind," Wanda whined over the phone one afternoon, sounds of clanking dishes echoing in the background. Wanda only baked when she was extremely bored; you made your way to the tower in record time.

• "Hi, baby," You two hugged tightly without a care for her flour-and-frosting stained apron. She smelled like cakes and cookies, her long, soft hair falling into your face. "Whatcha makin'? Need some help?" You asked, prepared to roll up your sleeves.

• Wanda nodded, but not before taking hold of your face and tenderly pressing her lips to yours, savouring the kiss with a slow, unhurried pace. You wrapped your arms around her small waist, content to just stand close to each other and feel her warmth, thumbs brushing over the tips of her ribs causing her to chuckle into the kiss at the ticklish sensation.

• In the background, something clattered loudly, startling you two five feet apart; your back was turned to the door but the wide-eyed terror in Wanda's eyes told you all you needed to know. There was someone behind you. Like Neo in the Matrix, you quickly jumped to turn around, blood rushing to your face and ears.

• "Sorry," Steve and Clint, freshly showered and wearing sweatpants and loose tank tops, shyly hovered in the doorway. Steve's face was flushed scarlet as he picked up the phone he'd dropped. "We just, we uh, we wanted a snack," He offered meekly, looking away to the side. "Sorry we scared you!"

• "Well, this is new," Clint, on the other hand, was smirking, almost rubbing his hands together with glee. "But it seems like I owe Tony and Nat twenty bucks," The archer made his way to the fridge once he unfroze, clapping you on the shoulder on the way. "Congratulations are in order, I think."

• You stared at him, keeping a careful look out for Wanda who was flushed as intensively as Steve, nearly shaking where she stood by the countertop. "Um, thanks," She mumbled, avoiding everyone's eyes. You knew that she grew up surrounded by homophobes and the wild response was mostly instinctual. You two weren't bothered much in NYC, but being two teenage girls in love wasn't easy either.

• You exhaled, squaring up and wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders, prepared to fight off the backlash should there be any, but Steve was occupied by his phone and Clint was happily digging through the fridge. Second by second, Wanda relaxed into your touch and lost the tension completely when your lips touched against her temple.

• "LADIES!" Thor walked in with his usual lack of tact and non-existent indoor voice. "I am here to congratulate you on your union!" Steve the traitor evidently had disclosed your relationship status to the group chat; the Captain could be such a little shit sometimes. Shortly after that, the Avengers came by one by one, each one smiling and happy.

• Wanda had almost started crying when Nat hugged her; Bruce had even abandoned his lab in favor of shyly grasping both Wanda's and your hands for a brief moment and grabbing one of the cupcakes Wanda had made. Tony was Tony - his jokes ranged from mild to downright filthy, Bucky having had to stop him by planting his metal palm right over Tony's mouth, much to everyone else's cackling.

• "Ladies," Thor announced somberly, shoveling in, like, his eighth cupcake with no signs of stopping. "If anyone dares to bother you, you shall come to me and I will take care of it!" The Asgardian announced sternly, attracting appreciative looks and agreeing nods from the remainder of the Avengers. Apparently, someone had shown him the meme - the internet had dubbed Thor the protector of lesbians and he was taking his title very seriously.

#bunny's headcanons #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff flufff #scarlet witch x reader

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hanatiny · 3 years

Text

Aim To Please

a/n: I’m aware that certain kinks in this may not sit well with some people, but I have a very specific target audience for this one so :) a/n 2: happy birthday to the stressed mom Seonghwa, hope he eats well and has a good day~ <3

pairing: incubus!Seonghwa x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 1866

warnings: consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, noona kink, pet names, Hwa has a gun kink, he's also a whiny service top, praise kink, marking (both biting and light scratching), brief mention of overstimulation, orgasm control

-----

Seonghwa had been visiting you somewhat regularly for a couple months now. He first came to you in a dream while you were feeling lonely and then another night, when you found yourself unable to sleep, he actually physically materialised in front of you.

Incubi were said to simply come to 'their human' for sex and that was that, they would leave once they got what they wanted.

Seonghwa, however, was a little different. He had a bit of a childlike curiosity to him, ironic as it seemed for an immortal demonic creature, and you adored the way his eyes would light up like shooting stars every time you'd talk to him and tell him about your day or simply recount a memory you happened to be fond of.

You grew attached to each other rather quickly and easily, a strong emotional bond forming between the two of you that one wouldn't necessarily think possible.

And so, when he arrived this particular night, he couldn’t help but pout a little when he found you fast asleep in your bed. Then again he couldn’t really blame you, it was sometime between 2 and 3am after all. In all honestly, he was relieved to see you get some rest, knowing how you struggled at times.

He visited you for a different reason tonight though; it was his creation day - or birthday, a word he learned from you that meant essentially the same thing in human terms, which he used interchangeably.

He wanted to celebrate it with you and to do so, he’d either have to wait until you'd awaken on your own accord, or wake you up himself. He technically wanted to do neither but he was an incubus, so he did the one thing that he knew how to do.

Hesitating for a beat, then, Seonghwa's face blossomed a cherry red when he recalled how you had previously informed in a conversation that he had been given explicit permission to have his way with you whenever he pleased.

Feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight, he carefully maneuvered himself onto the mattress to hover above you. Seonghwa, careful and gentle as ever, balanced himself on one hand while lifting the other to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.

Your expression was peaceful as you slept, head tilted slightly to the side, and he couldn't help but coo softly at the sight while he briefly lost himself in his own thoughts.

How would he ever tell you that he had fallen in love with you, someone belonging in a different world...? He had yet to figure it out.

He shook his emotional dilemma off in favor of trailing his lips down from your jaw over your neck and collarbone with slow, deliberate kisses. You stirred slightly with a soft hum, remaining asleep.

Seonghwa’s soft lips attached themselves to your skin to gently suck a marking near your shoulder. Once satisfied, he pulled back and his hands went to free your sleeping form from the blanket it was covered with.

He froze in his tracks for a brief moment, not having expected you to be dressed exclusively in an oversized t-shirt. He bit his lip and toyed with the hem of the piece of fabric that still covered your body before pushing it up to under your breasts for easier access to where he wanted to be.

His hands established a gentle but firm grip on your thighs and parted them for him while he nipped all over the skin of your stomach, trying to distract himself and not turn bright red once more from the realization of your lack of underwear.

Like the gentle man he was, Seonghwa glided his fingertips over your inner thighs with featherlight touches and if it wasn’t for the airy giggle you let out, having known you were rather ticklish, he would have thought you couldn’t feel him at all.

You leaned into his touch slightly out of instinct when his fingers ghosted over your slit to see if you were wet enough to take him - he knew it could be painfully if either party isn’t aroused to a more than sufficient level. But, to his relief, you were practically dripping, which led him to believe you may have been having a wet dream. Little did he know, you had been in a limbo between asleep and awake ever since his hands first came into contact with your heated skin.

Seonghwa was way too focused on his task to notice your state of half-consciousness, and he didn’t even connect the dots when you mewled out loud after he had discarded his pants and gradually pushed his length into your entrance.

Once he bottomed out, he whined softly as he began to rock his hips into you and it surprised you time and time how gentle he’d start off with you - as if you were a porcelain doll and he was afraid of breaking you - and that you’d always, without fail, remind him that he didn’t have to be, that you could take it.

There was a tenderness in his actions that you couldn’t quite place. You refused to believe that the root of it was love.

It was when his voice went high-pitched with a shaky “N-noona..~” that your eyes flew open, thankful for his lack of focus on you while he moaned softly, your hand blindly fumbling for something under the pillow next to you.

Your fingers finally took hold of and wrapped around the cold metal item, pulling it out from where you hid it until mere seconds ago, and Seonghwa’s hips stuttered slightly when he heard a familiar soft click, but he only snapped his gaze back forward to look at you wide-eyed as he felt a gun barrel pressed to the side of his head.

“Noona, I-”

“Hush, sugar. You’ll be good and listen to every word I say, yeah~?” You smirked up at him as he nodded and let out a desperate whine of affirmation.

It was a peculiar kink of him to have to want to call you noona, you mused, considering that he was a century old creature and you physically would not be able to top that as a human being. But you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him, considering that no one in his past seemed to have done so based on his delight when you complied and agreed.

Whimpers from the man above you pulled you back into the present reality as you watched him struggle to keep up a rhythm with the gun pressed to his head. You cooed at how good of a job he was doing regardless, “Such a good boy, fucking noona good just how he knows she likes it...~”

Seonghwa cried out, his face flushed because of how he submissive he acted, contrary to how he usually at least tried to appear to be.

“Mhm, my pretty babyboy figured he could use my body for his own pleasure, similar to how the rest of his kind does hm~? It’s cute, really.” You purred, unable to stop a moan from slipping from your lips while your grip on the loaded gun tightened slighly, although you made sure to keep your fingers away from the trigger just in case.

“You make noona feel so good, sugar, just like you’re meant to...~” You smiled up at Seonghwa with a so obviously deceiving sweetness that made his pouty lips tremble slightly, a few strands of his messy hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.

You knew the telltale signs of when he was about to cum, your first trist with the demon having been what felt like years ago although it only lied back a few months.

“I-I... Noona, ‘m already close...~” He panted softly above you, causing you to coo as he twitched inside of you, a smile tugging at you lips.

“Mhm I can tell, baby~ You can hold it in for a little longer for noona, no?” Your voice carried a lilt as you hummed and it unsettled Seonghwa that he couldn’t quite place it, but he nodded eagerly nonetheless, not willing to even so much as risk disappointing you.

“Y-yeah!” He gasped softly when you suddenly wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even deeper inside of you, your back arching as you did so, “Good boy...~ Oh fuck, right there-”

You hissed lowly under your breath, having unintentionally pushed the tip of your lover’s cock right into the spot that would make you come undone. Seonghwa whined loudly and desperately above you as he continued his almost frenzied thrusts into your heat, his head thrown back and his body on the verge of overstimulation when you found your climax around his length.

It was convenient for him to be so well-endowed, you mused, since he was able to hit the most pleasurable spots deep inside of you with ease.

“P-please noona, I-I can’t-”

“Cum, Seonghwa.”

And just like that, with two simple words, he let go and released himself inside of you, a soft moan drifting from you at the feeling of warmth spreading through your body.

Seonghwa panted softly as he slowly came down from his high, reaching to caress your cheek as if in a trance while you dropped the hand holding the gun onto a pillow next to the two of you before letting go of the item entirely.

Having caught your breath, you nudged him to roll over, which he willingly did after carefully pulling out of you.

You turned to face him, tenderly threading a hand through his hair as he pouted at you.

“Y/n-”

“Shh, I know Hwa. I should get cleaned up... but I’m too tired, so I’ll just shower in the morning.” You smiled reassuringly, to which he relaxed as well and wordlessly wrapped his arm around you to pull you close and cuddle you.

“Happy birthday...~” You murmured before drifting off, leading Seonghwa to coo softly at you in endearment as he held you close to himself protectively.

You were truly the only gift he could ever want and need.

When you woke up the next morning, it was in an entirely different position than the one you fell asleep in. Shifting in your bed, you realized that your supernatural companion had cleaned both himself and you in the night before making sure to dress you appropriately so you wouldn’t be cold.

You found your gun on the nightstand next to you a few moments after, along with a small note Seonghwa must’ve written in a hurry if the handwriting on it was anything to go by.

‘Thought I’d allow myself to clean you up so you could stay under your comfy blankets a little longer. Hope you don’t mind :)’

There were a few hearts scribbled all over the piece of paper, and your head fell back against your pillow with a knowing smile and a happy sigh.

You were glad the incubus seemed to reciprocate your feelings, and you’d be sure to tell him so when he would return.

“I love you too, Hwa.”

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