#tickle fanfiction

[chaoticklesblog]

Maybe You Just Need More Convincing

Adam gets his everloving shit wrecked from some of the Hotel Staff in order to convince him sinners really can be redeemed. Charlie also recruits Lucifer to give them a hand, in more ways than one.

Warnings for foul language, some violence, suggestive humor (nothing extreme, just some totally in chatacter comments), my shitty grammar/punctuation, and lots of fluff/tickles. I hope you enjoy!! :3

It was no secret that Adam was heaven (and hell's) resident douchebag. He was stuck up, conceited, and completely self-centered. He had no real intentions of giving Hazbin Hotel a shot. He hadn't even shown up in person to the meeting in which was arranged originally between himself and Lucifer. And after Lucifer's daughter had stood in Lucifer's place at that meeting, well, Adam just couldn't take anything the princess of hell had to say seriously.

Charlie Morningstar was less than pleased to discover that the angels were going to be on a new six month extermination schedule. How was that even fair? It was so frustrating that Adam had flat out refused to listen to reason or even take Charlie's pitch of redemption even halfway seriously. He spent most of their allotted meeting time making sexist comments, talking about himself, interrupting anything Charlie had to say, and eating his pile of ribs in the most obnoxious and rude way possible.

Charlie had to think of a way to truly convince the head angel to call off the extermination and redeem those who were taking their path to redemption through the hotel seriously. But no song, no dramatic speech, no amount of begging or pleading could convince the dickhead that her Hotel would ever actually work.

"How could we actually convince heavens top angel to take our Hotel seriously?" Charlie had asked the staff and two meager residents in a meeting that was originally to be comprised of forgiveness role-playing and trust exercises. The change of routine was much welcomed by all, though they'd never explicitly tell Charlie that.

"We could just kill him?" Alastor suggested, his grin broadening and eyes darkening at the thought.

"That wouldn't be a good way to exemplify our goals or show redemption," Charlie paused. "We just need to figure out a weakness, you know, find something that we could use against him! Does anyone have any... less violent ideas?" She shoots Alastor a sympathetic smile.

"Vicious blackmail?" Angel suggests casually. He has the day off, and while he'd rather be scoring drugs or drinking at the bar with Husk's sole company, this discussion is far better than trust exercises.

"That's a less violent alternative," Charlie comments, "But still shady..."

"Listen toots, we aren't gonna convince Adam or anyone else to take us seriously if we don't play at least a little bit dirty," Angel tucks his upper set of arms behind his neck in a bored gesture.

"Angel has a point, Charlie. They wouldn't listen to reason, and the angels are notorious for not playing fair. I know you're trying to find a way that isn't violent or unconventional, but we might not have much of a choice. Especially if we want to defend our people," Vaggie steps closer to Charlie to embrace her briefly.

"Blackmail... nonviolent... unconventional... playing dirty..." Charlie thinks briefly about the options that fall under all these categories, and suddenly her face breaks out into a wide and evil grin. "I know exactly what we have to do! And I know just the person to call to ensure this plan will work. But I'm 99.9% positive, and it'll be foolproof!"

••••

"You want to what?" Lucifer's voice raises an octave. Unsure of what exactly this favor was his nearly estranged daughter had asked of him, he couldn't tell her no. But he hadn't known this was the specific favor in question until he arrived to the hotel. And Charlie had intentionally left out a few key details.

Had Lucifer known his precious daughter and hotel patronage had planned to exploit his ticklishness, he would've very well declined and spent the afternoon with his vast collection of rubber ducks.

"But that's only part of the favor. We also need you to arrange a meeting with Adam face to face. But first we need to know if this plan will work," Charlie's voice at the end was near pleading. Lucifer almost felt sorry for her, but what did this have to do with tickling him?

"I can arrange him to meet you all in person," Lucifer spoke slowly' "but what the hell does this have to do with tickling me?" His voice rose to a strangled octave, indicating that he was indeed ticklish.

"Mr. Morningstar, erm, your majesty, Charlie pointed out that you and Adam have similar angelic traits... so we figured that if you were... also inflicted the same weakness... We might actually have a shot at bringing that Adam prick down a few pegs," Vaggie nervously stepped forward to shake her girlfriends father's hand.

"I'd like to peg him," Angel murmered, earning a few looks of utter horror he quickly added "Adam, I meant Adam! Besides haven't you heard of hate fucking?" Angel grumbled defensively.

Lucifer turned back to Charlie.

"So you're asking me... if you can find various sensitive spots on my body... to use on Adam... in hopes of getting him to call of the next extermination?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically and damnnit, Lucifer just couldn't say no to her.

"Okay, okay, okay... But a few things first... I'm only letting you do this as part of that favor. If anyone here ever tries to tickle me outside this one stand alone instance, consider yourselves to be absolutely wrecked. As ticklish as I am, I will ensure to pay you back in kind tenfold if any of you pull a stunt like this outside this small window of time. I'm only doing this because it would be nice to knock that dickhead down a few pegs."

His threat clung to the air a few moments. The king of hell was known to be ruthless, and he was a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks dad!" Charlie reached over to hug him. Something the two hadn't done in such a long time but their embrace felt familiar. Normal even.

"A couple of other points..." Lucifer told the group, "an angels wings are the most sensitive, pretty much everywhere. Between the feathers, shoulder blades, wing pits, I mean, it's lethal... Lilith used to..."

Lucifer couldn't help but turn a blushy pink color at the mention of his former wife. He hadn't been properly tickled since... well, it had been quite some time. Lilith wasn't a stranger to tickling Lucifer to tears, but she was the only one to ever indulge in his weakness. He was never tickled by anyone other than Lilith. And cetainly not by this many people. Charlie had grown up with witnessing Lillith tickle him to pieces. Faint memories of her father squealing, shrieking, and downright begging Lilith not to tickle him while laughing helplessly. But Lilith had always been able to easily overpower her much smaller husband. But Charlie also knew how Lucifer could hold his own. She knew what a fierce tickle monster he could be in her own experiences and knew by watching her parents in her much younger days that Lucifer almost always sought revenge.

Lucifer kept reminding himself that this was necessary. He knew this was to help his people of hell, his daughter even, but being demon royalty and exposing his most innate physical weakness and allowing others to take advantage of it was downright terrifying. It had been bad then, but now? Lucifer let out an involuntary shudder.

"For Adam, specifically, I'm led to believe that he would have another weak point aside from his wings. But if his wings are anything like mine, then you shouldn't have much trouble!"

Lucifer tried his hardest to ignore the shit eating grins forming on the faces of both Angel Dust and Alastor. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But he remembered his favor to Charlie, and all the memories of his past tickling experiences and thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"Please, do tell us of any other weak spots you think the angel will have, your royal higness!" Alastor chimes in, eager to have something to use against both Adam and Lucifer.

"God removed one of Adam's ribs to create his new wife. And being touched by that amount of power would absolutely cause that spot to be more sensitive... It's basically a given."

"So torture the guys wings and ribs, got it," Angel smirked.

"Torture Adam's wings and ribs," Lucifer clarified "you motherfuckers better go easy with me." Lucifer couldn't help but back away nervously from the group. Unfortunately for him, there was only so far he could back up before his back collided with the wall of the Hotel lobby adjacent to where Husk was sleeping at the bar. At least Nifffty and Husk weren't involved in this scheme.

"Anything else we need to know before we tickle you to death?" Charlie asked almost sympathetically as Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor closed in on the king of hell.

"Sixty seconds. Do NOT exceed sixty seconds." Four against one was definitely not a fair match.

Lucifer wasn't given time to think while the group circled around him. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"Sixty seconds," Charlie clarified, "starting in 3..."

Why the fuck did he agree to this again?

"2..."

This really had better work on Adam. Otherwise Lucifer knew he'd be totally fucked around Alastor, Angel and Vaggie, who all seemed to take pure delight in discovering the king of hell was ridiculously ticklish. Why did Charlie have to tell them?

"1..."

Shit. And he was lost in helpless, screech filled laughter. Lucifer had curled into a ball as ten arms and countless tickling fingers dug into almost all his ticklish spots.

"WHAHAHAHAHHAHT THE FUHUHUHCK AHHAH STAHAP!" Lucifer pleaded, knowing it hadn't even been 10 seconds yet.

Alastor had taken the liberty in casting a temporary paralysis spell on Lucifer so he couldn't even protect his worst spots. He had taken this opportunity to also tickle the smaller demon's shoulder blades which shook helplessly as his six magnificent wings unfurled.

Angel and Vaggie started to explore his wings and Lucifer had severely underestimated just how much it would tickle.

"OohoHAHAhaA, IHIHIHT tiHIHihihCkles HAhahHa soHo mUhUHUHUCH AHAhaHa!" Lucifer squealed as Angel and Vaggie had tickled the soft skin beneath his feathers, Angel's extra set of hands had made quick work of his wing pits which caused his laughter to shoot up an octave.

"That's kind of the point, short king," Alastor teased as he had switched to taser his sides while Charlie had been scribbling at his ribs, grinning madly as her plan had seemed now that it could be executed without fail.

Lucifer was in absolute tickle hell. Literally. The sensation of Vaggie and Angel mercilessly tickling his wings, scritching the skin beneath his feathers, digging into the sensitive wing pits and occasionally poking and scratching at his shoulder blades combined with Alastor squeezing his sides and Charlie torturing his ribs had nearly caused Lucifer to break. He couldn't move to protect his tickle spots. And all he could do was laugh and shriek and hope the ticklish assault would end whenever the alloted minute was up.

"I didn't think you'd still be this ticklish!" Charlie cooed.

"OkAYHAHAHhahAH! SEhehee? IHAH- I TOHOAHAHHOLD YOUHOO AHAHhahah it WOHOULD WORK!" Lucifer cackled.

He never had four people tickle him at once before. It was the most ticklish he'd ever felt in his entire life. It wasn't fair to have all his tickle spots exploited at once!

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of cackling, the minute had passed and as promised, Charlie called off the experimental tickle attack. Alastor reversed the spell and Lucifer had crumpled to a giggling panting mess on the floor, overstimulated from all the tickles and trying to rub away the residual ghost tickles.

"So was that 60 seconds of getting your everloving shit rocked, short king?" Angel grins down at Lucifer.

"Seriously, fuck you guys," Lucifer giggles.

"Think this will actually work on Adam?" Vaggie turns to Charlie beaming as she helps her one day father-in-law off the floor.

"It has to!" Charlie says with pure confidence.

"Thanks, dad, for helping us prove our theory to be true. Adam won't stand a chance against us." Charlie hugs the still giggling Lucifer around the middle.

"I don't mind seeing that loser taken down, I'm... glad I could help, but seriously, that was awful," Lucifer says, hugging Charlie back.

"I'll arrange for Adam to arrive here tomorrow and then you can convince him to listen."

●●●●

Adam was irritated. Sure, the king of hell was able to order him to meet in person to discuss business matters, but that didn't mean he wanted to. If it were up to him, he would meet through holographic magic, but Lucifer had strictly forbidden it for this meeting only.

So here he was, at the hotel's doorstep, expecting to meet with Lucifer and returning to report back to heaven as soon as this mandated meeting was concluded.

What Adam wasn't expecting, however, was to be met with Alastor, opening the door positively beaming at him.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Why, you must be Adam, we've all been dying to meet you! Well, if it weren't for the fact that we are already dead!" Alastor chuckles at his own joke. "Do come in!"

"Who in the fuck are you?" Adam glares at Alastor, wary of the taller demon.

"Why, I'm Alastor, the infamous radio demon of hell and manager of this fine establishment! Allow me to show you around hell's only rehabilitation center for lost souls!" Alastor grabs Adam's wrist and drags him through the hotel lobby toward the bar.

"Allow Husker to pour you a drink, on the house!" Alastor grins at Adam's sheer befuddlement. He was out of his element here in unfamiliar territory. Husk pours an unmarked liquid into a glass and slides it toward Adam.

"...uh, thanks... but when am I supposed to meet with Lucifer?" Adam looks at the drink as if it were poisonous.

"Don't be a silly! We would never think to poison the one and only angel who had the power to permanently end the exterminations of hell's residents!" Alastor laughs as if he could read Adam's mind.

"And Lucifer will be here soon, but we have other eager candidates to speak with you before hand!" Alastor continues smirking as Adam slowly begins to drink from the glass.

That's when Adam turns and notices Vaggie, Charlie, and Angel behind him, a bit too close for comfort. And suddenly, Adam finds himself unable to move, thanks to Alastor's demonic power and curse of immobility.

"What the actual FUCK, Charlie?" Adam tries to writhe away but is unable to do so.

"Adam, thank you for joining us today! We thought it might take a team approach to convince you that our redemption center deserves a chance to save sinners from extermination," Charlie smiles.

"I already fuckin told you that hell is eternal damnation, I'm not changing my mind and I think that your hotel is a worthless waste of time!" Adam spits angrily.

"Maybe you just need more convincing..." Angel smiles, excited to be able to have one over on this pompous angel prick.

"I said Noho!" Adam let's out a startled Huff as Charlie prods his side near the bottom of his ribs.

"I don't think you're in a position to refuse our quite reasonable requests." Alastor chuckles.

"What are you all playing at?" Adam sneers, albeit nervously.

"Well, we can't harm you, obviously, but we found a rather unconventional method of torture to utilize to convince you to take us seriously," Charlie explains.

Torture? Adam now realized three things.

One: he was outnumbered.

Two: he was completely immobile and couldn't move from whatever power was keeping him trapped.

Three: The poke Charlie had administered to his side had been... well... ticklish... Adam had started to realize that they intended to tickle him. They couldn't. They wouldn't, actually, could they?

"No, no, Charlie. I demand you to release me!"

"Maybe this will help convince you not be such a pompous asshole," Charlie smirked down at Adam evilly.

And suddenly, Adam felt her dig all ten fingers into one of his most ticklish spots, his ribs. And he felt Angel and Alastor tickle into his sensitive shoulder blades, causing his wings to expand.

"Nohohoho, what thehahahhah FUHAHAHAHAHUCK?" Adam squeals.

Vaggie had hopped in to help Charlie tickle his stomach and hips and Adam was in absolute ticklish hell.

"Fuhahahahuck YOHOU GUYS, AHAHAHAHAHA!" Adam can't even squirm away from their torturous fingers. His laughter shoots up an octave as Alastor and Angel tickle into his wings.

No tickle spot was spared on the guy and he couldn't even move or writhe away from the ticklish touches. It wasn't fair!

"Think you'll give the hotel another shot?" Charlie asked, digging sharply into Adam's lower rib cage. Adam's laughter doubled.

"NohohahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh shit, Adam! It feels Ike one of your ribs are missing!! Maybe we should count them to see how many are there!" Charlie teases, enjoying how much power they have over Adam.

"FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOHOOFF!" Adam screeches as Charlie proceeds to count and recounts his ribs.

"We've got all day, tough guy!" Angel digs roughly into Adam's wing pits as Alastor digs his claws beneath the feathers to torture the delicate skin beneath. How long had it been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Adam quickly realizes that he is utterly fucked.

Adam's laughter goes silent. It's not fair to have them all tickle him to pieces. He couldn't even fight back or try to get away. All he could do was lie there and take it. His eyes begin to water as they continue their ticklish onslaught. And Adam just can't handle much more.

"Think we can renegotiate now?" Charlie asks and Adam quickly nods despite his silent hysteria.

"Okay, I think he's had enough," Charlie slows her hands and pulls them away, and the rest of the group follows suit.

Adam lays there panting giggling, still feeling the ticklish assault through his nervous system.

"I hope you won't forget this, as we are easily able to convince you to do exactly as we want," Alastor chuckles darkly, removing the immobility curse.

"Seriously, fuck you guys," Adam flips them off as he uses his magic to dissappear. His tough guy facade had been broken.

Adam would call off the next extermination, out of fear of what would happen to him if he continued to refuse. Now, his greatest enemies knew of his ticklish weakness. He would never be able to live it down. And maybe a part of him didn't want to.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel tickle fic #tickle fanfiction #sfw tickling community #tickle content #tword blog #tword content #tickle fic blog #ler!charlie #ler!vaggie #ler!angeldust #ler!alastor #ler!lucifer #lee!lucifer #lee!adam #fandom fic #tfb #tickle fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fluff

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

A very devilish angel

A/N: A demon and an angel are in love and while that could be embarrassing for the demon, he would definitely not let it stop him from making plans for their future (in secret of course, though keeping it secret from tickling angels could be pretty hard.) Just floofy fluff floof and a pinch of feely schmeelies, pardon me.  

It hadn’t been long that they’d been together. Officially together.

And Crowley just couldn’t stop blushing.

Every time Aziraphale did something even remotely romantic, he froze, his eyes widening in disbelief and his voice leaving him hanging as he turned speechless.

The worst part was that Aziraphale seemed to find this incredibly endearing. His lips tended to quirk into that very specific, charming, almost sympathetic smile and his eyes glazed over with a warm playfulness, a soft infatuation with Crowley’s reaction.

Crowley could swear that, had Aziraphale installed any fire alarms in the bookshop, they’d be going off all the time from the hot, embarrassed steam the demon produced at any instance Aziraphale gave him that specific look, often accompanied by a gentle chuckle.

From what Crowley could tell, his behaviour did nothing but inspire Aziraphale to turn increasingly more affectionate. His blushing never seemed to come to a halt anymore as the angel came up with all sorts of gentle gestures and fond phrases to make his insides melt.

He’d feel his lips quiver when two perfectly manicured hands smoothed out the fabric of his shirt, making his chest feel warm in the touched places and his cheeks even warmer. “You look absolutely gorgeous today, my love.” The angel would say as he’d lean in to place a kiss on Crowley’s 100 degree face. Turning boneless, Crowley would make an awkward little step to the side, snarling and hissing – even though Aziraphale argued that he was in fact purring – before pushing himself past his lover to act like nothing was the matter.

Crowley had reacted the same way when Aziraphale had kissed the back of his hand for the first time, or whenever he took off his glasses to look fondly into his snake eyes before kissing him on the lips, or when Aziraphale had had the audacity to put an arm around his middle while he had been busy skimming through the pages of a book, complaining about the general concept of dusty imprinted, tree-skeletons. He’d almost jumped out of his own vessel then, dropping the book in question – that Aziraphale had then caught effortlessly – and zipping it almost instantly.

“You were saying?” Aziraphale had asked smugly, putting his chin on Crowley’s shoulder and beaming up at his deeply flushed face.

Yes, his angel had figured him out quite well. And Crowley was loving it deeply. To not be but a riddle to which Aziraphale knew all the answers was one of the most comforting experiences of Crowley’s existence. Nevertheless, the effortlessness of his angel’s reactions to him never seized to surprise him, to leave him breathless, weak in the knees, all wibbly-wobbly inside. And that could at times be a little frustrating for him.

Currently, Crowley was busy turning a map around in his hands, seated on one of Aziraphale’s larger sofas. With furrowed brows, he was trying to figure out where exactly he’d have to go to reach the coast, something the two of them had been talking about a lot in recent times. His angel had been busy preparing tea and was minutely returning, a silver tray with clinking cups in his hands, his reassuring angel-voice humming sweetly. Crowley’s neck was tingling comfortably at the noise.

“Oooh, a maaap!” Aziraphale exclaimed excitedly as he settled down next to the demon on his couch, placing the tray upon the table in front of them

“Don’t call it a maaap!” Crowley groaned, sending him a reprimanding glance over the brim of his dark glasses.

“I didn’t,” Aziraphale answered with a small lift of his eyebrow, making Crowley’s heart jump  a little.

“Yes, you did!” He insisted, before lifting the map in a way that made Aziraphale’s face disappear from view. Aziraphale’s presence made him so tense that he lifted his shoulders to his ears without even noticing it.

Aziraphale was chuckling softly, taking a sip of his tea, before sticking his nose over the top of the map, glancing down at what Crowley was looking at.

“What are you doing?”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at the angel and sniffed in an unbothered way, as if nothing of interest was currently happening. “Looking. At a map.”

“Yes, but whatever for?” Aziraphale’s eyes were smiling now and Crowley’s shoulders shot up a little higher.

“Nothing you must know about right now.”

Aziraphale, that terribly sweet angel, pushed his head past the crook in Crowley’s arm, his face ending up rather close to the demon’s and rather past the map in question. “Are you planning something?”

Crowley blinked at him, mouth agape, a tender blush creeping over the bridge of his nose. “Y-you will find out s-soon enough!” Quickly, he tried to look away from the angel, gulping. But Aziraphale had other plans. Chuckling gently, he pushed the map down and leaned in even closer to Crowley than before.

“I like it when you make secret plans. I wonder for how long you’ll be able to keep them from me, though.”

Crowley blushed a deep red when Aziraphale went to push him down into the cushions, his warm hand on his collarbone, his familiar, beloved vessel weighing him deeper down into the sofa. He felt his lips quiver as the angel’s nose touched his own, one of Aziraphale’s hands moving away from their propped up position next to his ears to remove his glasses. Bright blue eyes were gently looking into his own.

“Are you trying to bribe me, angel?” He asked, covering up his shyness by raising his eyebrows at the other playfully, an excited turmoil raging in his stomach. Aziraphale had him trapped on the sofa now, his left arm on the demon’s chest, his right one extended to place the glasses on the table next to him.

“You know, I have methods to get you to speak…” A mischievous glance sprang to the angel’s eyes as he started to wiggle the fingers of his now free right hand around.

“Now, wait a minute!” Crowley gasped, sobering up a little, seeing what he had done with his mindlessly uttered remark. “You cannot do this, I- I am the demon! Y-you are an angel, you’re supposed t-to spare people, for whoever’s sake!”

For Crowley’s taste, the angel was enjoying his insignificant attempts at wiggling out from underneath his stylishly dressed ‘boyfriend’ far too much. Blue eyes were sparkling with joy as demonic hands came up to protect a rather defenceless upper body.

“Do you hear me, angel?? People. Angels. Sparing!” Crowley repeated a little more hysterical when Aziraphale’s hand started to get closer to his body. It was embarrassing really how his voice went up the second Aziraphale’s threatening hand moved slightly faster towards him.

The angel was having a great time, evidently, laughing at Crowley’s demise. It didn’t really help with Crowley’s general embarrassment and fidgeting and melting and not-actually-trying-to-get-away. Apparently, he was too soft to spoil Aziraphale’s fun. (And maybe he also did enjoy it a little, when Aziraphale teased him like this.)

Sympathetically the angel tilted his head to the side, before saying: “Oh, Crowley, you’re not people.”

After that, Crowley was nothing at all anymore really – nothing but a bubbling, squeaking, laughing pile of demonic goo on a dusty bookshop sofa, as Aziraphale’s hand travelled straight to the ticklish spots on his left side, squeezing the sensitive area repeatedly and deepening Crowley’s blush immediately. “NO! Angel, wait!! WAIT!!”

“Wait for what, my dear?” Aziraphale asked as if nothing was the matter, his lips curled up in the most self-congratulating smile, while his fingertips were expertly seeking out the bits and pieces of Crowley that made him arch his back and toss his head around. Red curls were getting dishevelled on the red sofa cushions. Bright, pointy teeth glinted in the sombre bookshop lighting, yellow eyes filled with mirth, disappearing from sight whenever Crowley had to squeeze them shut against the ticklish sensations.

“PLEASE STOP!!” He squealed, his laughter bright enough to open the gates of Heaven, impossibly sweet for a snarling, moody demon. “PLEASE, ANGEL!!”

“But you haven’t told me anything, yet!”

Crowley doubled over with laughter, when Aziraphale’s fingers started scribbling at his stomach. He couldn’t kick himself out from underneath the angel and his flailing and pushing hands had the same effect on him as Beelzebub’s flies if they were to plop against him.

“Oh, the demon’s weak spot,” Aziraphale teased, chuckling when Crowley gasped for air dramatically, as if it were necessary. “Are you trying to make me pity you?”

Crowley started shaking his head violently when Aziraphale’s fingers began wiggling into his ribs, his lungs burning from all the laughter. “JUST STOP! STOP AND I’LL TELL YOU!!”

Aziraphale wasn’t cruel – not that cruel, at least – and granted Crowley his wish. Smug and pleased with himself, he put both his elbows up on Crowley’s chest and smirked down at his flushed face. A demonic chest that was currently moving up and down rather fast, indulging unnecessarily in the drama of the moment – a poor, unjustly tickled demon, trying to regain his breathing after a vicious, vicious attack from a very ruthless angel…

“You’re being really dramatic right now,” Aziraphale commented, chuckling when Crowley stopped the act and started pouting instead, yellow snake eyes glaring at his face. The dishevelled demonic mess seemed to have a rather softening effect on the angel, who moved one hand up to push a strand of hair out of his forehead. “It suits you very well.”

“Shut up!” Crowley exclaimed, a small smile clinging to his features as he tried to sound convincingly exasperated. One gentle caress to his hair sufficed and Crowley was purring- err snarling again. “You are a very devilish angel.”

“How dare you!” Aziraphale huffed with a grin, his hand wandering to Crowley’s side again to tweak it one last time in retaliation, relishing in the way the demon squawked.

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh afterwards, amused by his own noise, joined quickly by Aziraphale. “Stop it, seriously!”

“Of course,” Aziraphale put his hand back on Crowley’s chest and made an expectant face, “but you better start talking real fast.”

“Secret plans are in fact very secretive, you know.” Crowley answered, his hands gently moving up the angel’s back, who made a rather pleased little noise.

“Does this mean you do not plan to tell me about them?”

Crowley smiled and pulled Aziraphale closer towards him. “For now.”

The demon pulled the angel in for a tender kiss, reversing their positions progressively until he was the one on top, his hands cradling the angel’s chuckling face.

“What?” He slurred, drunk on angel.

“You tend to do this.” Aziraphale answered, his fingers caressing the skin under Crowley’s chin.

“What?” The demon asked again, snarling against Aziraphale’s ear now.

“Be … ‘more straightforward’. After I’ve tickled you.”

“Reaaally? Is that soooo?”

“… Yes?”

“Hmmmm, surprising, I wonder what opportunities my newly gained position might offer me…”

“… Ehm.”

“Whatever might inspire a demon like me to get ‘more straightforward’ after an angel like you goes so far as to tickle me??”

“Now, Crowley, let’s not do anything we might regret here…”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to chuckle. “Oh, we are far past that point by now, angel.”

And maybe the muffled giggling noises that could be heard from inside the bookshop were the sounds of an angel who hadn’t seen a hellish revenge coming his way. But who was happy to endure it nonetheless. Because secret plans were being made for him. Which meant that his love was going to last.

Maybe even an eternity.

#good omens #ticklish!crowley #good omens tickling #good omens fluff #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #domestic ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens tickle fanfiction #tickle fanfiction

[theticklepitchannel]

Inner thighs tickling 🙈😋

#tickle art #tickle fic #tickle tickle #tickleme #laughter #tickle fanart #tickle fanfiction #tickle fantasy #tickle fluff #laugh #laughing #tickle tools #armptis #having fun #nonstop #tieup #tickle content #tickle fight #enjoy #im stuck #tickle monster #tickle post #tickle challenge #tickling torture #tickle prompts #tickle punishment #tickle session #tickle spots

[moongeonight]

Crazy employees

Summary: Alastor feels the need to bother Lucifer for his own satisfaction, he decides that Niffty will do the dirty work.

A/N: I beat writer's block! For now... Tell me if you want a second part of this! (This is a tickle fic!)

(update) here part 2 👉🏼 Crazy employees part 2

--------------------------

It was a normal day at the hotel, Lucifer had decided to stay at Charlie's hotel for a few days to see how everything worked, with the misfortune of having to live with Alastor.

Let's say that Alastor... hated him, And he hated him too, every time they crossed paths for some reason, they exchanged murderous looks.

But it was Alastor who wanted to take the first step in this silent war, since he accidentally saw a scene of Charlie and his dad, he discovered quite valuable information.

he saw that niffty was killing cockroaches and his smile grew wider.

"niffty! Come here!"

The little demon quickly rushed to hear what the radio demon had to say and she replied without hesitation.

"Yes, alastor! What is it? Do you need me to kill more cockroaches?" Niffty said with her usual crazed smile.

"Not this time, I need you to do a job for me, it has to do with Lucifer"

Niffty’s face lights up in excitement, she is easily enticed by the mere mention of Lucifer as she asks with a crazy grin.

“What do you need me to do?”

"Oh, it's something very simple..." Alastor said whispering to her what his little plan was to annoy to that damn of Lucifer...

Niffty’s face lit up again when she heard the plan, She giggled with delight and grabbed her feather duster and said with excitement.

"Alright then! I’m on it!"

Niffty dashed off to get in position to catch Lucifer off-guard, giggling with anticipation for the upcoming caos.

Alastor just laughed as he disappeared into the shadows with a sadistic smile waiting to appreciate the spectacle from afar.

....

Lucifer was currently resting in a small armchair trying to ignore the annoyance that Alastor had been these days.

Him being annoying was nothing new but he seemed to have upped his assholery in recent days… it was really getting on lucifer’s nerves.

But while he was still in his thoughts, he suddenly feel a little demon snuck up from behind, giggling like a maniac, who gave Lucifer a slight tap on his side using a feather duster.

Lucifer jumps up in a bit of a panic, spinning round to see who was there.

“WHAT IN THE- Oh it’s just you um... Niffty right?….” He seemed to calm down as he sat back down in the chair, resting his head on his fist.

"W-what are you doing here?"

Niffty giggled with mischief, her excitement growing stronger as she spoke, her grin stretched across her face as she replied.

“I was just tidying the room and thought I should say hello!” She replied as if it were obvious, yet the mischievous twinkling in her eye was evident that she had other intentions at hand.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, staring at Niffty with suspicion as he spoke slowly.

“Niffty… What are you really doing with that feather duster? Because... well it doesn’t look like you’ve done any cleaning at all” He said looking around the room in general.

She smiled in amusement at Lucifer’s suspicions, as he was quite obviously onto her.

“Well, maybe I might have other intentions with this feather duster, maybe something more nefarious!

As she speaks, she gives Lucifer a small little tickle on his side with the feather duster, It wasn’t too strong, but enough to catch him off guard.

Lucifer gasped and laughed as he was tickled. "Hehehey...! N-Niffty what are you-" He was cut off as Niffty continued to tickle him causing him to laugh more.

"Niffty! stohohop...! hehe... Hahahaha! p-plus I don’t think that feather duster is meant to be used on people… hahaha! plehehease put it down!” Lucifer sounded genuinely concerned at the moment.

Niffty couldn’t help but smirk and giggle at Lucifer’s reaction as his attempts to convince her to stop only made her giggle even more.

With him laughing so much, Niffty decided to take advantage of the situation and climb up onto his couch and cling to him with her arms wrapped around him.

“Hmm no no no!, we can’t have you being ticklish! We have to fix that!” She giggled as she began to tickle him even more, using both hands this time on his sides, making sure not to stop.

“WAIT! How is thihihihs supposed to hehehelp me?! Niffty! nononohoho! please st-stop! Hahaha! I’m too ticklish haha! O-oh god… that’s too much! Hehehe please… gasp stop! Hehehehe!”

Lucifer was really trying his best to free himself from niffty’s grasp but when he finally was able to grab her and throw her to the ground, she would just simply go back to climbing on him and continuing to tickle him.

He could feel himself being exhausted from the constant laughter as his breath became heavy.

“N-Niffty… plehehease! Hehe… st-stop! Hahaha! you’re gonna… hehe make… me hahahaha! p-pass out…!”

Niffty didn’t pay any mind as she saw his struggles, she only saw it as part of the fun.

“so ticklish, so much fun!” She giggled as she didn’t let up on the tickling. “Hehe, you’re not getting rid of me just yet!”

She used her now free hand and began to tickl under his arms, adding on to his many spots of ticklishness.

Lucifer let out a giggle of pure desperation as Niffty continued to tickle him until he began to feel his sides becoming sore as he began to squirm more violently.

“Niffty…! oh god HAHAHA!… PLEASE…! HAHAHA! I-I beg you n-not... t-the armpits hehehe…HAHAHAHA! NOT MY ARMPITS!” Lucifer began to laugh hysterically.

The demon simply giggled as she heard Lucifer’s pleas, she found it quite funny how desperate he was.

“Oh oh oh, ticklish armpits are we? Hehe how interesting!” Niffty giggled before wrapping her legs around Lucifer’s side as well, Now with both of his sides tickled mercilessly, his desperate laughs only fueled her excitement.

Lucifer had completely exhausted his voice at this point as Niffty was still doing her usual teasing, His muscles were tense and sore and his breathing heavy as Niffty had continued to tickle and hold onto him.

At this point Lucifer was just asking for help from Charlie or whoever would listen to him so they would take the crazy maid away from him.

Lucifer made a small and desperate squeak of embarrassment as he looked around desperately hoping someone could come and save him from niffty.

"CHAHAHARLIE! HAHAHA! Somebody...!! Plehehease take her off me!!"

suddenly lucifer heard footsteps approaching including slow applause.

"You did well niffty!" It was Alastor with his typical sadistic smile while Niffty smiled back at him and got off Lucifer to go with Alastor.

Lucifer was completely breathless as he took a second to calm himself before looking at alastor, his eyes narrowed as he looked at him.

So niffty was with alastor? ...Oh he was the one who told her to tickle me! That damn son of a bitch!

Lucifer was very obviously annoyed by alastor’s actions and wasn’t letting it slide, He was just about to yell at alastor for what he and niffty did but he was interrupted by niffty happily skipping along by alastor side before waving goodbye

Lucifer looked as niffty waved at him with a cheeky smirk before alastor dragged her away with him laughing the whole way.

"nice laugh your highness"

Lucifer sighed and put a hand to his forehead as he looked at the floor with anger in his eyes, he sat in his armchair in the hotel room just thinking about everything that had happened and was still fuming, he was still so angry at alastor for what he had put him through.

He wasn’t going to just let this slide, he was going to get payback and that’s final.

#tickling #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel #lee!lucifer #ler!niffty #alastor #lucifer #thank you hazbin hotel for giving me back the desire to write #lucifer morningstar #tickle fanfiction #tickles

[mimimunson]

Drunken fingertips<3

CW- tickling, mention of the police, mention of marijuana, mention of homophobia and bullying but is quite brief, intoxication.

Note- this is my first fic that I have ever written and the first fic I’ve felt semi-confident to post. Please be kind. This is first and foremost a tickle fic so if that isn’t your thing please scroll!! Minors DNI! This is not a tickle kink fic, but kinksters can interact!

Eddie Munson was by no means shy. As long as he could remember he’d always had a theatrical personality, he’d always felt like if he didn’t make someone laugh during the day, the day was wasted. He’d always found beauty in smiles and laughter, he found it endearing that no two laughs were the same. In fact, it’s kinda how he found out he liked boys. Coming out was a difficult experience, but Wayne told him what or who he did in his own bed was his own business. Eddie didn’t need aggressive acceptance, but the casual reminder that he was allowed to be queer. I mean he’d never admit that he flunked most of his classes because he was staring at admiring the guy across from him, he had a metal head persona to attend to but silliness was definitely his strong point.

With the up-bringing he had, it’s no shock that he was touch starved. That all changed when he met his new group of friends, they were all social rejects the same as him. All except Steve Harrington. He was the jock, the king of Hawkins-High. He wasn’t quite like the rest of the popular kids though. While they were calling kids slurs and laughing through the bullying they permitted, he’d stand there with a flushed face, stone cold silent. Steve wasn’t a stranger to Eddie before that, he was the guy he sat next to in his third period biology class on a Tuesday, the one he’d casually admire whilst pretending to take notes.

Steve was a different person then, now he would never stand by and let his so called friends verbally abuse others. Maybe it was his friendship with Robin that had opened his eyes to his own by-standing homophobia. But it was probably because he sat next to Eddie on the couch every Friday movie night in Wheeler’s basement. Steve wholeheartedly believed that sitting next to Eddie weekly was enough to make any man question their sexuality.

Eddie didn’t know how he got here, his knees grazing against Steve’s with his arm resting on the arm of the couch behind him. Both lightly buzzed on beer, whispering away to each other while the rest of the party were fixated on the next movie in their Star-Wars binge. He’d noticed more about Steve in the last 20 minutes than he did that whole year of biology class, his hair had a few strands of blonde mixed in with the brunette locks and when he smiled he had a dimple on the right side of his mouth.

“You have a dimple”

Eddie half-whispered and smirked, attempting to point at Steve’s cheek but narrowly missing from his intoxication. He playfully shrugged it off as if he meant to do that of course he did.

“Okay? So lots of people have dimples Munson.”

Steve shrugged and half smiled in Eddie’s direction.

“No no, you, King Steve have one singular dimple, not plural dimples. One. Only on this side”

Eddie spoke holding up his index finger, pointing as Steve’s face. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled, nobody, not even he had noticed his singular dimple before.

“I get it now, shh I’m trying to watch the movie.”

He lied through his teeth, mocking Eddie’s performative hand gestures. He could tell Eddie was a little more tipsy than he was, the main clue being the 4 extra empty beer bottles beside him. Eddie giggled, brushing his curls out of his face.

“One Steve. One. Where’s your other dimple? Someone steal it?”

Steve rolled his eyes once more at his drunken friend. “Maybe” he shrugged, “have you got it Eds?”

He smiled, leaning his body weight a little closer towards him.

Eddie’s flushed a little at his words, “Eds”. Steve was the only person who called him that, he was like that scene in the grinch where his heart grows 4 sizes bigger whenever Steve called him that. It felt intimate, a moment that only they could share.

“Listen man, I am not a thief” he held his hands up at the accusation, his smile beaming over at him.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to search you, it’s official police business.”

He joked, patting down Eddie’s denim jacket. Giggling when he felt the outline of his grinder and lighter from inside his pockets.

“Drug paraphernalia.. I’m pretty sure that’s a crime. I’ve not been on the job long but I don’t know Munson, it’s not looking good for you.”

He laughed, pretending to check an imaginary watch on his wrist as if a watch could tell him how long he’d been working a profession for.

“Cuff me officer Harrington, for the crime of being a stoner.” Eddie barely spluttered that sentence out before erupting into laughter.

“Oh you think breaking the law is funny Munson?”

He said shifting himself closer to the drunken boy. Grabbing both wrists in one hand, pinning him to the couch, lightly running his fingers across his arms.

“This is funny?!”

Steve continued his ‘pat down’ if you can call it that, he was poking Eddie’s stomach with emphasis to his words.

“I did not know you were such a criminal. You’re on the wrong tracks man, it’s not too late to change your ways”

Eddie could feel his face burning. Steve was not only touching him, man he’d have to remember that for a later daydream, but he was tickling him.

“Fuck Steve come on don’t do that”

Half trying to slap at his hands but missing them in his inebriated state and half trying to hide the ever growing blush on his face. Drowning in a sea of laughter.

“What’s the matter Eds? This is formal policy, I have to do this.”

Steve caught on pretty quickly that he wasn’t laughing at his pretty wooden acting and more so that his pat was something of a ticklish situation for his friend.

“I- shut up.”

Eddie could hardly contain himself, apparently trying to juggle the need to grab Steve’s face and pull him in for a passionate make out session, hiding his blushing face and trying to pretend like he isn’t being tickled shitless was hard for him.

“Munson, you’re really fucking ticklish you know? If you ever actually get caught for possession you are so screwed.”

Harrington proclaimed laughing alongside his friend, holding him down with one hand so he doesn’t squirm his way off the couch.

“I am so gonna kill you.”

He spluttered out in between gasping for breath. Steve’s hands slowed until they halted, towering over Eddie admiring how his curls were like little spirals framing his face, he even found himself doting on the way he looked up at him. His iris’s were camouflaged into his pupils, his eyes were such a deep shade of brown, but when the light hit them just right they looked almost amber. They always complimented his smile, he definitely smiled through his eyes.

“You’ve still got the same smile, it hasn’t changed since we were assigned seats together.”

Steve whispered, his bisexuality was still hush-hush. He’d only confided in Robin before this moment, he found it difficult sure, but hiding anything from Robin was more of a challenge. She’d sussed out his crush on Eddie from the first moment Dustin introduced them. The way he couldn’t help but look at the floor because holding eye contact was painful, the way he’d look like a sick puppy every time Eddie wasn’t able to join in a trip with the party. But mostly the way that Steve had drunkenly confessed that his bi-awakening was Eddie Munson between spitting vomit into the toilet and sharing confessions with each other.

“You remember me?”

Eddie had his hand over his eyes, slightly peaking between the gap through his middle and ring finger. As if missing this moment was not an option, even if the crimson blush burning into his cheeks wasn’t fighting its corner.

“How could I forget the guy who would stroll into class 45 minutes late, smelling of weed, tripping over thin air and flopping himself down beside me not saying a single word but doodling for the remainder of the lesson? I remember most of it, including the times I could feel your eyes burning into the side of my face like a laser.”

Eddie was mortified at this point. He truly thought he had stealth like skills for daydreaming next to pretty boys but regardless, he wasn’t ashamed. He’d do it all again.

“Oh. You saw that huh? I- I just. I just-“

Before the metal head could even finish his sentence, Steve put his finger up to his own lips.

“No need to explain, I get it.”

He nodded, he never wanted to make him feel embarrassed about who he was.

“It’s rough, teen years I mean. For guys like us especially.”

“Guys like us?” Eddie shot him a bewildered look. He couldn’t possibly mean he was- did he?

“You know. Guys like us. Guys who like guys. I mean I’m a guy who likes guys and girls”

Steve is fumbling all his words right now, nervously trying to explain himself was harder than he imagined.

“Listen don’t tell anyone I told you that though man, only Rob knows. Maybe I’m just a bit drunk but, you look so pretty like this. Peach coloured cheeks and that smile. Damn. See this is what I said to Robin, Eddie Munson just- well just looking at him opened my eyes to who I am.”

Steve interrupted himself, realising he’d said that all out loud. After a few seconds of consideration in his head, he was too drunk to care.

“You looking at me with those doe eyes in biology, it made me realise yeah so I’m like definitely bisexual.”

He felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, looking down at Eddie who had practically shrunk so far down into the couch that he looked like a part of it. But he was still smiling, still looking at him in the same way.

He lifted himself, sitting upright with his back against the cushions. Grabbing two bottles, ripping the caps off with his teeth.

“Interesting.” Munson divulged, not even noticing that the entire party was staring at them both with their jaws to the floor.

“You owe me 20 dollars!! I told you!!”

Henderson rose up, laughing and pointing at Mike. He always did like to be proved right. The party later found out that Dustin was certain his ‘gay-dar’ was spot on but Wheeler told him it was just broken, it was smashed right into the ground.

“I TOLD you guys, but hey, what do I know?”

Cherry-faced, Steve and Eddie looked at each other, and back at the party, and in perfect unison took several big swigs of their beers.

#steddie #mine #steddie tickle fic #stranger things tickle fic #sfw tickling community #tickle fanfiction #tickle fic #tickle fluff #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie au #steddie fluff #steddie fluff fic #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #queer eddie munson #bi steve harrington #ticklish!eddie #Lee!eddie #Ler!steve #they flirt so HARD #this flustered me so much to write btw #stranger things au #steve harrington au #Eddie Munson au

[rosileeduckie]

I believe the demon Crowley invented it

Which he does, on occasion, do on purpose.

Crowley makes up something special for a certain angel someone. So season two is a thing. I made a thing about Crowley making a thing because I needed more things. I hope you like the thing! :) No spoilers for new season, no worries

SFW. Potential warnings: none. Good Omens/Ineffable Husbands tickle fic.

Word count: 6,003

~*~

It took Crowley a while to want to fly again. To be expected, really; falling, cast from the heavens and plummeting to the depths amid a cacophony of agonized screaming and terrified wailing of the damned all plunging downward into jagged rock and sizzling sulfur–it wasn’t an experience he was eager to repeat. He kept to the ground for a while. Crawling, slithering, was much calmer. But one day, he caught a breeze. Sitting on a crag, sunning himself, the downy feathers of his large dark wings felt a cool gust and began to fluff up. He stretched out the limbs, welcoming the wind, and his long gossamer flight wings began to shiver as well. The wind whistled through him, beckoning him to stretch further, to go faster, to fall. And, with a deep breath and golden eyes wide, he fell. Tucked his wings tight against his back, feeling the wind batter him, rocketing down the mountainside–and then threw them open wide, like floodgates accepting rain, like garden gates accepting fire. He caught the wind, the wind caught him, and he was no longer falling but flying. The wind, the sky, embraced him, surrounded him, whipping through his long crimson hair and tousling it a thousand directions, pinning a hysterical smile to his cheeks, drying tears before they could fall from his eyes. Flapping, swooping, diving, soaring, Crowley shrieked in whooping laughter, utterly free. He wasn’t doomed to the depths; he was up, left, right, down, and everywhere. The sky was his to ride, the earth his to explore. He was alone, and he was free. 

He did a lot of flying after that. Still walked often, sure; humans and their antics were much easier to see from the ground. But his heart pounded loudest and brightest up in the atmosphere.

Speaking of heart pounding.

One day, as Crowley flew, he spotted a large white shape in a tree below him. He couldn’t say offhand where he was–it wasn’t like he often flew with a destination; as much of the world as there was, humans hadn’t filled it with all the fun stuff they would one day–but he could see plenty of empty open desert to catch him when he landed. So, he angled his flight downward, and, just for fun, somersaulted into the dry scrubland, loving the feeling of sand freckling his grinning cheeks and grass adorning his mussed hair. A hop, skip, and a jump, and he’d crossed the distance to the curious tree and was perched on a branch beside its familiar inhabitant.

“Hey, angel.”

“Hello, Crawly,” said Aziraphale. Prim and polite as ever, albeit looking painfully bored. The angel’s eyes were wandering the fuzzy desert horizon, hands folded in the lap of his obscenely white robes which billowed gently around his crossed ankles, which swayed subconsciously back and forth. His wings were folded at his back, appearing tight and stiff from disuse. Crowley counted back in his head how long it had been since their paths had crossed and wondered how much of that time Aziraphale had been made to spend as a tree ornament.

“Crowley,” the demon corrected, feeling antsy just watching Aziraphale sit so still and so standing up on his branch, which creaked protestingly against the first real new movement in a while, and reaching up to ruffle the foliage with his fingers.

“Right,” Aziraphale said, furrowing his brow and shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. “Crowley. I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you here?”

Crowley’s fingers found purchase on a higher branch, and he gripped it tight, using it to swing himself up and around and hang upside down from the taller vantage point by his knees. His long curls hung down like a red willow, but his own black robes hugged dutifully to his corporal form. (Even if he didn’t have the human habit of shame, he wasn’t keen to let gravity have his clothes; the wind could get cold even in the desert). The blood rushing to his head made Aziraphale’s question not quite register right away, and Crowley blinked. What had brought him? He stretched out his onyx wings and flexed them demonstratively.

“Ah,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I mean, what are you doing?”

The demon stuck out his lower lip thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes. “Nothing?”

The angel tipped his head, brow furrowed. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“Just that, I guess. Flying quite a bit, having fun. Not like demons really have anything we’re meant to be doing, so.” Crowley curled forward, reaching up to his hanging branch and pulling himself upright before laying down on his stomach, resting his head on his arms to look down at the angel. “Yeah, whatever I want. Nothing.”

Aziraphale sputtered, and Crowley chuckled.

“’We have no time to waste, the Almighty has much work for us to do,’” said the demon in so impressive an impression of the head archangel that Aziraphale held a hand to his lips when a titter startled him by escaping. Crowley grinned. “Even if I’m not on God’s payroll anymore, time’s hardly wasted for us, is it? We’re not mortal; we don’t have a limited amount of time to get done all the things we should.” Crowley closed his eyes with a deep sigh. “So I’m doing none of them. Too much earth to enjoy to get busy with work.”

When Crowley slowly opened one eye, he saw Aziraphale turning his ring over on his little finger, white wings twitching and puffing out, subconsciously agitated.

"Could show you, if you want. Come fly with me, I'll take you on a tour."

"What!" In an instant, Aziraphale's wings went from anxiously fidgeting to defensively spread, puffed up and rigid and making him look much bigger and more threatening. Or, it would have, if he hadn't whipped his head around to look at Crowley with the biggest eyes and flapping mouth and reddening cheeks. He looked positively scandalized.

Crowley couldn't help it--he laughed, a hissing snickering sound that he buried in his arms. He noted Aziraphale's flush looked even darker when he lifted his head, but the thought didn't even occur that it could have been from something other than the words from his mouth.

"I- I- I-! I couldn't possibly--!!"

Couldn't possibly, Crowley sighed, hiding the way his smile began to fade by pressing his cheek into his forearm. Couldn't possibly be seen flittering about with a demon!

Aziraphale settled himself, clearing his throat and smoothing his ruffled feathers. "Couldn't possibly. Far too busy."

"With what?" Crowley scoffed, smiling again when Aziraphale's blush rebloomed. "Looked to me like you were doing as much nothing as I was." He pushed himself up, looking through the verdure to an empty desert. "Unless I'm mistaken, not much of a garden here for you to guard."

"Precisely, there isn't," said Aziraphale, visibly brightening, more confident, when Crowley furrowed his brow and opened his mouth in confusion. "Humans are free to roam about wherever they like now," Aziraphale explained, "even if they're harder to keep track of. And angels are tasked to give them inspiration and blessings."

"Yeah, but," Crowley said, reluctant to disagree when the angel had given so content and cute a wiggle in his seat, "doesn't look like there's many humans around for inspiring or blessing."

"No," Aziraphale relented, casting his gaze downward and fidgeting with his fingers. "Actually, there aren't many yet at all, certainly not enough for all us angels to keep busy, so I- I'm waiting for them to do their whole--" he scrunched up his nose and flapped his hands in front of him, “’go forth and multiply’ing… thing…”

“Uh-huh.” Crowley leaned to once side and then the other before tipping off his branch, catching himself one the perch with one elbow and swinging one leg up to hang from his knee. “And, while you’re waiting for that,” he said, tipping his head back to look at Aziraphale, “you could come fly with me to–”

“I most certainly could not.”

“You should,” Crowley countered. “If for nothing else, because you’ll get stiff just sitting there.”

Aziraphale gave his head a quick and resolute shake. “But I won’t.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “You won’t get stiff?”

“No,” Aziraphale huffed with an exasperated smile, “I won’t go flittering about. Angels aren’t meant to…” He trailed off, brow furrowed as he sought for words. Instead, he gave a shaky wave with his hands, as though that gesture wasn’t equally vague.

“Fly?” Crowley guessed.

Aziraphale gave another huff, part impatient and part amused. “Obviously. We, no, um… There’s a certain level of professionalism to…” He’d run out of words again. Crowley wondered if the Lord’s precious humans would be so kind as to one day make up a way for someone to communicate with their hands for beings like poor Aziraphale. (Probably would, clever things.) As it was, the angel said no more, but his inability to articulate in concert with his anxious hands and wide eyes spoke bounds.

Professionalism, hm? Ah. Crowley guessed again, words slow and eyebrows rising. “You’re not meant to have fun?”

At that, Aziraphale nodded, the tension in his shoulders and wings dropping, and a relieved smile gracing his cheeks. An answer, even one delivered so astonishedly as Crowley’s had been, evidently was enough to settle him. “Yes. Far too busy.”

“Let me get this straight.” Crowley unbent the two limbs suspending him from his branch, languidly loosing them so he could drop down sit beside Aziraphale on his lower branch. “Lord of all light and goodness,” he wiggled his fingers upward, “made all this world for you to serve and forbade you to enjoy any of it?”

“Not forbade, but serving does come first” Aziraphale replied, seeming only have just realized Crowley was now beside him. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in his lap. Crowley cocked his head curiously; no more hand-flapping or chin-wagging, then. The angel had let himself out of his box enough for one day.

“Well,” said Crowley, clapping his palms to his thighs and pushing off until he tipped backwards and into freefall. His wings caught him with practiced ease just beneath the tree’s canopy, but he definitely delighted in the angel’s startled jolting and almost reaching to try and catch him. “Have fun sitting in your nest.” He gave the angel a salute, then touched a finger to his head. “Or don’t have fun, I guess, whichever. I’ll be up there.” Crowley pointed upward, then snorted. “I mean, ‘up there’ like the sky, not ‘up there’ like– you know what I mean.”

The last he saw of Aziraphale before flying off was cherub cheeks glowing an embarrassed pink and hands all but anchored to his robed lap. Crowley’s wings beat fast and hard, arms thrown wide, and soon he was back amongst the cloud. Which way he’d been intending to go, he had no idea, so he hailed the first wind gale and let himself float along it. His thoughts, which usually wandered just as aimlessly as the winds, were stubbornly pointed downward and behind him.

Oh, an angel didn’t want to have fun, what a shocker. Let him sit in his tree, bored, all he wanted. Angel didn’t know what he was missing.

Crowley’s wind carried him to an ocean that would one day be called the Red Sea, passing him off to an air distinctly cooler and tasting of salt. Beneath him, the blue vastness stretched on toward the horizon, in no time at all swallowing up the desert he’d come from until he was flying over only sea. Ocean above, ocean below, even from so high up, he could see no end to either. Beautiful. Peaceful. Lonely.

The sighed Crowley exhaled was ocean-deep. Angel didn’t know what he was missing.

Banking hard, Crowley dove under and out of his wind current, flying lower and closer to the sea as he trekked back toward land. A spray-laden breeze spurred him on, carrying him like a leaf riding the rolling waves.

He couldn’t just pull the angel from his tree. Well. He could, of course, literally. But he couldn’t pull him from where he’d metaphorically rooted himself. Maybe there was a figurative middle ground at which to meet him.

Literal ground came into view, and Crowley slowed until he’d lighted on a beach. He stood there a moment, hands on his hips and lips pursed and wings stretching, thinking. Stewing. Any other angel, Crowley probably wouldn’t have been so stuck on. But Aziraphale wasn’t any other angel. He had a little devil in him, or he wouldn’t have talked with a devil in the first place. An angel’s stuffiness didn’t suit him; even if he was prim, it wasn’t like he’d had much chance to be anything else. To try anything else. He wanted to have fun; Crowley knew he did. Crowley watched the waves tumble onto the sands with thunderous yawns, listened to the gulls’ distant disgruntled cries as they squabbled over dinner. The ocean was just as vast from below. If only he could have Aziraphale standing next to him, get him to see all there was to see.

Something scuttled over his foot, and he brought his gaze down. A small crab, no bigger than his thumb, had elected that the risk of invading a demon’s personal space was worth the few seconds it’d safe on its journey. Crowley stepped back–obligingly, not because the creature had startled him; he was far scarier than a crab, thank you–and crouched down to watch the crab scurry on. The sand beneath them both was warm and deep, too, shifting beneath Crowley’s feet in miniscule landslides of grains too many to count. Crowley snickered; some poor angel had to have been saddled with the task to count sand and pour it out on the earth, he was sure. There were shells atop the sandy scape, too, and stones already being smoothed down from the waves’ crashing. Crowley picked up one of each, a pretty little brown spiral and a slate rock hewn quite flat. After a second of consideration, he reeled back his arm and tossed the stone out across the ocean, grinning when it jumped four times across the surface before sinking into the water. Like it was skipping. Snickering proudly, he scooped up another such stone and tucked it safely alongside the shell into one of the many folds of his robe. (Like gravity, the robe was willing to ignore space and mass to allow Crowley to carry more things. Very considerate.) He walked a few paces further, gathering up a small piece of driftwood, another rock with an interesting texture, and, deciding the risk of getting pinched was worth it, the crab. Then, back into the air, he went.

Time was still funny. After the big seven days at the beginning had been counted, the calendar had gotten a little messy. Humans would probably benefit from it, get a few more weeks or years or centuries in change from days not counted for the sun having forgotten to have been set. Maybe some angel would be appointed to sort that out eventually and keep time organized. As it was, Crowley didn’t know how long he’d been gone from Aziraphale’s tree. A few hours? A few days? It was easy to get lost up in the air and up in one’s thoughts. What he did know was that it had been long enough for Aziraphale to fall asleep.

Angels didn’t need to sleep. It had been a design feature. Too much to do. But, as Crowley clambered into the tree once more, he saw a blonde head tipped back, eyes closed and jaw relaxed.

“Hey, angel!” Crowley crowed and jabbed a finger into Aziraphale’s side, already grinning.

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open, and he jolted forward with a yelp, floundering with his wings to get his balance back while one hand gripped his branch and the other was pressed affrontedly to his heaving chest. When was no longer in danger of falling, Aziraphale’s focus shifted squarely to Crowley, all dagger-glares and flushed cheeks. Crowley couldn’t help laughing, which, he realized, was all too easy to do around Aziraphale. “Crowley! That was–! You startled me!”

With a shrug and lingering snickers, Crowley moved to Aziraphale’s perch, sitting down beside him. “Just helping you out, angel. You were working so hard before; would hate to see your higher-ups find you dozing.”

Whatever retort or further scolding Aziraphale had intended to give fizzled away in his flapping mouth. He pressed his lips tight together and turned his pink face away slightly, and Crowley wondered if he was trying to keep himself from coming up with an excuse or, God forbid, breathing a lie.

With a chuckle, Crowley reached into his robes, elbowing Aziraphale’s side as he did. “I’m just teasing. I wouldn’t want to see your higher-ups at all.” At that, the line of Aziraphale’s lip wobbled, the muscle of his cheek twitching like it ached to pull upward. Crowley’s grin was unabashed. “Anyway, hopefully this will make up for it.”

Aziraphale jumped when he found himself with hands full of small silly objects. “What’s this?” he asked, juggling them for a moment before laying the treasures in his lap. The offended crab stayed determinedly pinched to the hem of his sleeve, but the other trinkets spread out nicely upon the fabric his white robe in a flattering little display.

“Figured,” explained Crowley, holding a hand out to catch the crab when it eventually tired, “since angels are allergic to having fun and going to new places, it’d be a shame for you to not even see things from those places.” Moreso, it was its own temptation, but nothing Crowley had been instructed to do. He hoped that, if Aziraphale saw pretty little things from somewhere else, maybe he’d want to go there more than he’d want to do his nothing job. Maybe want to do nothing together. Maybe.

“Oh.” The angel’s gaze hadn’t left the little exhibit. His eyes wandered between the objects, and, slowly, he let his hand–the one not currently being clambered up by a crustacean–trail over them, tentative and featherlight. Gentle. Reverent. Crowley tore his own gaze from Aziraphale’s hands back to his face. The flustered blush had faded, and his eyes were as bright as Crowley had ever seen them, positively shining. “Thank you. I suppose.”

The verbal response was so detached from the visual one that Crowley snorted. Right, so, angels didn’t know how to receive gifts (albeit, admittedly, they were as new to the concept as any other earthling). Maybe that was enough of an excuse to give him more gifts.

"No one's ever given me-- ow." Aziraphale looked up from his treasures to the crab that had scaled his sleeve and delivered a disgruntled pinch to his arm. He smiled, regarding the little creature with eyes still bright. "No one's ever given me a crab. Excuse me, my fine little fellow?"

"Well, I wasn't planning repeats anyway, but definitely no crabs next time." Crowley jabbed at the crab with his finger. "Oi."

The crab promptly let go of Aziraphale to brandish both pincers at Crowley.

"Ow," he said when the crab latched onto his nail. "Fine, read you loud and clear, I'll give you a lift home." He tucked the little devil into his pockets and looked back to Aziraphale, who'd gone red again. "Don't look so terrified, angel. He's safe in there, you're safe out here."

Aziraphale's response was quiet. "Next time?"

"'Next--'?" Crowley's eyebrows furrowed, then rose to his hairline. 'Next time' that he brought the angel a gift. Well, he hadn't meant to speak that implication into the universe. Whoops. "Ahm, s-- so. You want to come with me to escort the little thing home?"

"I can't," Aziraphale sighed, but he was cradling the smooth stone and tracing it with his fingertips.

"Busy, right." Crowley scooted forward and off the branch, into the air. "Well, sleep tight."

Maybe not the best time to tease when the angel had a stone in his hand, but Crowley could get used to seeing Aziraphale blush before flying off.

He was still seeing red, and is was just as adorable, while he lay on his belly on the warm beach sand, fending off the little crab from pinching his nose with one hand.

"You were no help back there," Crowley told his tiny bloodthirsty foe, parrying away a jab with his index finger. Only after delivering a few nasty blows to Crowley’s knuckles and fingertips was the vengeful crab, at last, satisfied, scuttling off into the surf. Crowley mussed his hair with both hands before letting his head loll forward, resting his forehead on the sand and mindlessly scratching lines into the sand with his fingers.

Not a total failure of a plan, but not a complete success, either, with or without the aid of Captain Stabby. He hadn’t gotten the angel out of his nest, but at least he now had something to keep from being bored to sleep. Crowley wasn’t usually averse to giving up, but he could be pretty stubborn. And maybe he had a pretty big crush. But that wasn’t the point! Aziraphale was perhaps the only angel to speak to, let alone be kind to Crowley after his fall. He was too sweet a soul to deserve being benched from all of Earth’s joys for a few centuries just because he didn’t technically have work to do. Crowley couldn’t let him be stuck like that.

Resolved, Crowley lifted his head and determined to come up with another plan. Watching the waves crash and turn over, so he shuffled through the thoughts and ideas in his mind. Giving Aziraphale things hadn’t swayed him enough to move from his perch, even if those things had obviously delighted him. (More than obviously, but Crowley didn’t yet know how Aziraphale had carefully tucked all of the little beach treasures safely into his own pockets.) Perhaps, instead of showing the angel how much fun could be had somewhere else by collecting things from that somewhere, Crowley could make him feel that right where he was. Hard to replicate the feeling of being on a warm beach, soaking in the sun and listening to the sea, while in reality sitting in a gnarled old tree. A different feeling, perhaps. A different place. Crowley’s most favorite place was the sky; as an angel, Aziraphale would be well acquainted with how good flying could be. But how to make him feel that way from the ground? It wasn’t like he could collect bits of cloud and wind.

Crowley looked up at the clouds, following the bright white hilltops and grey flat plains with his eyes. No angel designed them or upkept them; the wind pulled and pushed and shaped them, taking them and making them to its whim. Like it took Crowley. From in their midst, clouds looked mostly like great pale curtains. From below, Crowley could almost see fluffy sheep and snowy mountaintops in their formless shapes. Chaos, random chance, channeled to make something substantial. Collecting hadn’t work to replicate feelings; why wouldn’t making something?

Demons loved making stuff. Creativity had been made to be a human trait, but demons, by principal, had the bad habit of doing things they weren’t supposed to. It was fun in so many ways. To come up with and then make something overcomplicated, accidentally brilliant, or absolute bullshit nonsense–and then to see what humans did with it. It was invigorating, cathartic, and hilarious.

What, what, what could Crowley make for his angel? It actually wasn’t too hard yet, to think up something unique, occupying such an early chapter of history. Still, he wanted it to be special. Moving. Figuratively and literally. What did he feel when flying, and how could he make that happen down here? How to ruffle an angel’s feathers without wind?

Crowley looked at the squiggling furrows his fingers had left in the sand. They had been made without intention, for the satisfying scraping sounds and gritty shifting texture as he thought. But, now, they gave him an idea. Hands could ruffle feathers, sure. He looked over his shoulder and reached back to give his own feathers an experimental ruffle. Yup, that could work. Like the waves crashing over one another, Crowley’s thoughts started to race, spurred as he looked backward. Hands ruffling feathers, fingers buried in sand, feet bare in soft grass. He thought of one human he’d seen poke another in the side and how the second had recoiled with a smile before they’d both gone back to fishing. He thought of how it felt when an itchy leave wriggled its way down his robe. He thought of how it felt when an angry little crab scittered across his skin. He thought of an angel’s beaming smile and bright eyes. He had many thoughts, but he had one idea. One idea for something absolutely nonsensical and extremely silly, and, when he eventually workshopped a name for it, he’d call it tickling.

But, one unnamed idea in hand, Crowley flew up from his sandy sunning spot and back in the direction of a now very familiar tree.

“I saw you coming this time,” Aziraphale declared when Crowley all but crashed into the tree with how fast he’d been flying.

Crowley scoffed, picking twigs from his crimson hair. “I would hope so, between how many eyes you have and how much noise I was made landing.”

Aziraphale set his eyes heavenward, as close as he seemed to get to rolling them.

“Why?” Crowley said as he sat down next to the angel. “Were you watching for me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come again,” Aziraphale admitted, cheeks going rosy and fingers worrying a small brown shell.

For a moment, Crowley’s heart beat loud and eager in his ears. He kept it. No time to be swept up in that thought, though; he was far too busy with the task at hand. Crowley cleared his throat and shrugged, moving to sit close enough to Aziraphale that their knees touched. “Had to. I had another gift for you.”

“Oh?” The angel’s eyes lit up excitedly, even as he tried to look professional. “From where this time?”

“From me. I made it up. For you.” Crowley stuck out his tongue and cursed his own ears for burning. “Ngk– I’ll show you.”

Before the angel could offer any turnabout teasing for Crowley being the one flushed and at a loss for words (because, Crowley just knew, there was enough devil in Aziraphale to absolutely turn the tables given the opportunity), Crowley thrust his hands beneath Aziraphale’s folded wings, wiggling his fingers to muss the feathers and scribble at the muscle beneath.

“Ah–!” Aziraphale yelped, his wings swinging out wide to escape the surely strange feeling. Crowley only targeted the space closer to Aziraphale’s shoulders instead. “What are you–?” Aziraphale tried to ask through laughter that seemed to be building and bubbling quite irresistibly from his chest, “What are you doing?”

“I’m tickling you,” Crowley explained, crawling his wiggling fingers from Aziraphale’s wings, down his shoulder blades and under his arms. “Not sure about the name yet, but I figured vessel nerves usual react for preservation. Why not make them react to something fun?”

Perhaps for preservation against this new attack, Aziraphale tried to lean back and away from Crowley, flapping his wings and batting at his hands. The tickling under his arms, though, had him curling up and laughing enough to mostly rob him of words once again. “This isn’t–!”

“This isn’t fun?” Crowley guessed, puffing out his lower lip. “Now, is that because it’s actually not fun, or because you, as an angel, could not possibly be having fun?”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale squealed, and Crowley grinned, downright devilish.

“I mean, if it’s not fun, why are you laughing? Laughing means you’re happy, yeah?” he teased, slipping his hands from under Aziraphale’s arms to set his dancing fingers loose upon his stomach.

Aziraphale was nearly horizontal, leaned so far away from Crowley and wings and hands flapping weakly. When Crowley’s next attack targeted his stomach, Aziraphale loosed a merry wail before tumbling into bright laughter that made the lines by his eyes crinkle happily and the breath in his throat catch wheezily. And oh, his laugh was perfect. All the pristine stuffy angel was gone, drowned out by the loud, head-thrown-back, wrinkled nose, toothy, shoulder-scrunching, belly-shaking laughter. It suited him.

Crowley had some mercy, switching from digging and scratching to poking and wiggling. “It is supposed to mean you’re happy, right?” he asked, for a moment concerned he might accidentally kill the angel. He certainly looked happy, and he hadn’t been doing much to push Crowley away, but… “I came up with tickling, but I’m not yet fully clear on…”

A still-giggling Aziraphale blinked through laughter-induced tears–tears were sad; had he become so happy, he was sad?–to look at Crowley, his gaze an odd but warm mix of fond and sympathetic and sweet and teasing and just losing the edge of hysterical. Just that look nearly bowled Crowley onto his back.

“Oh well!” Crowley exclaimed, a little too loudly. “I’ve got to perfect my new little game for you. And you,” he grinned as Aziraphale grew all the redder and scrunched his neck, “you just stop laughing if you stop being happy.”

Aziraphale didn’t stop laughing, but he didn’t stop squirming either. In fact, when Crowley set out to practice until perfect by testing other techniques to see what would tickle and started squeezing the soft spots of Aziraphale’s stomach and sides, the angel thrashed so exuberantly that he rolled right off the branch. Crowley followed, and, in a mess of feathers and flapping wings, the two tumbled from the tree and into the desert scrub grass.

With how much of a reaction squeezing had gotten, Crowley continued doing it, chasing Aziraphale’s laughter down along his thighs and behind his knees. With more ground on which to metaphorically stand, Aziraphale did put up a bit more of a fight, and Crowley was sure no one who pictured wrestling an angel would conjure that image. Of the angel with a wide smile beaming like the sun, of the demon getting the upper hand by jamming his thumbs into the angel’s hips until the later collapsed backward with a snorting cackle, of the adoration in the demon’s eyes as he tickled the angel apart piece by piece. Crowley rounded back, at last able to get one of Aziraphale’s wings pinned under his knee and burrowing the fingers of one hand into the wing pit and the fingers of the other into the soft stomach and vibrating both sets until the angel was wheezing.

Crowley had had about a dozen other ideas for this tickling thing once Aziraphale had actually been under his hands, but he had actually succeeded in getting Aziraphale from his tree, and he didn’t want to overwhelm with too much of his brilliant new idea. He pulled his hands back to a featherlight crawl, tracing the fair hair of Aziraphale’s forearms with the tips of his fingers and the tops of his feet with the tips of his black wings. The angel, thoroughly spent and thoroughly happy, lay giggling and content, hands twitching and stomach jumping but otherwise still. Eventually, all Crowley’s movement stopped as well, transfixed by the sight beneath him.

Here lay Aziraphale, opalescent wings thrown wide and with feathers mussed, perfect curled hair a tousled mess, hysterically happy smile stuck to his cheeks, tears drying on his cheeks, chest heaving from a belly full of screaming laughter. Crowley fell from on top of him, laying beside Aziraphale with a smile of his own. Perfect.

“That was fun,” Aziraphale said, eyes closed and smiling so gently that Crowley simply couldn’t bear to gloat just then. (He would eventually gloat. A lot. But not just then.)

“Yeah, it was.” Crowley lay beside Aziraphale, reveling in the validation of a successful plan and good idea, as well as the echoing angelic laughter still gracing his ears. He turned his head when Aziraphale pushed himself to sit up.

“Well, it will be a bit before humans fully populate the earth anyway.” Aziraphale stood, brushing off a bit of sand from his robes and producing the shell and a rock from them to make sure they had survived the fall, and holding out a hand to Crowley. “You can lead the way to that ocean you were so keen about, and you can tell me more about your creation. I haven’t ever laughed like that, have you?”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and stood, shaking his head. “Just when I catch a really good breeze, but even then…”

“Ah. Well, I liked your gifts. Can I share this one?”

The demon was struck with the absurd image of angels dropping like flies around the old garden under the menace that would be Aziraphale the tickle angel. He snorted. “Sure, if you want.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale wiggled his shoulders happily and stretched out his wings. “I’d like to tickle you then, so you can laugh like that, and I can see it.”

Something in Crowley’s mind popped. Full of ideas as it had been minutes earlier, it was amazingly empty at Aziraphale’s proposal. With all the excitement the demon had had coming up with the idea and developing it, he had not once considered it being turned against him. Regifted. He was struck with another image, this time of himself, pinned under Aziraphale, at his mercy, laughing like flying. That image actually struck him as quite lovely, but it did also make his ears burn like hellfire. “Well!” Crowley said, kicking up off the ground and hovering a few feet above it. “One fun thing at a time. Ocean?”

Aziraphale nodded, smiled, and shot up into the air like a feathery stone shot by a sling. “Race you!”

“Hey!” Crowley laughed, chasing after him.

~*~

Crowley had come up with it, but Aziraphale had made it his own. And had inspired Crowley to coin the term ‘tickle monster.’

Such inspiration came to Crowley in an instance much like the one he found himself in at present: head tipped back against the cottage bedroom door, cheeks and chest aching from laughing, knees wobbly, so high and happy that the only thing keeping him from floating away was Aziraphale holding him (quite nicely after so evilly pinning him there earlier), stroking his fingertips along Crowley’s hips and sides, slow, featherlight, gentle, reverent.

“This may have been the best gift ever given,” Aziraphale chuckled, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s neck and leaning back with a proud wiggle.

Crowley lifted his arms, still a bit jelly-like, to wrap around Aziraphale’s shoulders, holding him close and keeping himself upright. “And it got me a hefty promotion way back when.”

Aziraphale laughed, “What?!”

“Yeah,” Crowley grinned, crooked and dizzy. “’Oh, Crowley, what an ingenious torture method, all the fun of hysteria with no marks left behind!’”

He let his head fall onto Aziraphale’s shoulder, giggling, as Aziraphale smothered his own laughter in his hand.

“But,” Crowley said, lifting his head but still too boneless to actually hold it up and so letting it thump back against the door, “you are by far more evil with it, so I may have taken credit where I was not due.”

“How rude,” Aziraphale tutted, giving Crowley a little scratch to one hip that had him crumpling sideways and squeaking. The angel caught him easily, supporting him around the waist and gently tickling his back to get him to purr and slump further into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Well, whatever the offices took it for, I am very grateful.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead and smiled. “Very happy with it.”

“Good,” Crowley mumbled, “because I didn’t keep the receipt.”

#tickling #tickle fic #mine #ro writes #good omens tickling #ticklish!aziraphale #ticklish!crowley #i saved my tired for the description if you can't tell #i really did like season two #how have i not written for them in so long #tickle fiction #tickle fanfiction #peak crow flirting

[dumbstuffsstuff]

Long Time Friend || Lee!Venti || Genshin Impact

———

Venti decides to be a little annoyance to his archon friend and can’t seem to handle what he dishes out. Wuh-woh.

Pairing: Zhongven (interpret however you wish)

Lee!Venti

Ler!Zhongli

———

It was a beautiful day in Liyue, the sun was shining brightly on the city and Zhongli stood at the top of a building after just having lunch. He took in the scenery below and closed his eyes.

It was quite breezy today, but recently the wind had decided to pick up. Zhongli’s loose clothing and hair blew as the wind grew stronger. Even some outdoors venders in town had to take a break and wait the wind out. This could only mean one thing.

Zhongli rolled his eyes. He had a smirk on his face as he anticipated the sight and sound of his long time friend.

“Howdy do! Mr. Zhongli~!” The high toned voice sang.

“Barbatos,” Zhongli spoke without turning to face the green haired boy.

“Why so formal?” Venti walks up with his hands on his hips, “Afraid to get buddy buddy with your old pal?” He elbows the taller archon in the side.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Zhongli smiles, “Venti.”

“That’s better,” Venti chuckles, “Nice to see you, too.”

Zhongli finally faces the bard, “I just had lunch, didn’t expect you to visit otherwise I would’ve waited.”

“No problem, although I would like to try some of the famous bamboo shoot soup they serve here. We don’t get that in Mondstat.”

“Allow me to buy you some,” Zhongli offers. Venti takes that offer and they head back inside the restaurant to bond.

“It’s delicious,” Venti hums as he sips the soup. Zhongli chuckles,

“Yes, it’s quite exquisite.”

Venti eyes him, “You have a very refined vocabulary, so sophisticated.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not!” Venti elbows Zhongli’s arm and gets a feel of his muscles, “ooh, such strong arms.”

Venti squeezes Zhongli’s biceps, feeling the tough flesh. Zhongli scoffs up a noise.

“Venti- Stop that…” Zhongli tries to pull his arm away, but Venti uses his other hand to squeeze the area as well.

“So tough, so handsome~” he teases, “so ticklish…”

Zhongli jumps and resorts to using his free hand to tease the Bard’s stomach. Venti immediately lets go of the archon’s arm.

“Z-ZHONGLIHIhi!” Venti squirms in his chair and tries to pry Zhongli’s bigger hand off of his tum.

“So very ticklish indeed,” Zhongli teases and switches to squeeze the Bard’s sides. Venti kicks his legs, giggling.

“Zhohohonglihihi! Quihihit it! Ahahahehhehehee!” Venti squirms so much he almost tips the chair over, “Whoa!”

“Careful, now,” Zhongli shifts Venti so that Venti falls back onto his chest, still giggling at the prodding on his sides.

“Ahahaha!! M-Morax! I’m tihihihicklish! Stahap!”

“Oh you are? I couldn’t tell~” he laughs to himself.

“Stohop laughing at mehehee! Ihit isn’t nihihice!”

“Well it wasn’t very nice when you were teasing me earlier, so this is my revenge.”

“Ihihi’m sohohorry!! Plehehehease! Z-Zhohongli!!” Venti twists from side to side to escape the Geo Archon’s fingers, but they just follow.

Venti begins to slip through the chair and Zhongli’s lap, flopping onto the floor and scurrying to get away. Zhongli is quick to pounce onto him and straddle the Bard’s waist.

“N-NOho! ZHOnglihi! Plehehease dohohon’t!” Venti kicks his legs, thumping his knees against Zhongli’s back.

Zhongli squeezes his knees and Venti arches his back and straightens his legs, “EEP! Stahahahp! Nohohot my kneheheehees!”

“Not your knees? Alright then, how about here?” Zhongli pinches Venti’s hips, causing Venti to buck more.

“NAHAOhoho! NOHOT THEhehere eihither! Ahahahaha!!” Venti watches as a couple walks past them with a confused expression. His cheeks turn red, “peheheople are staring at mehehee!”

“Should’ve thought about that before you decided to be a menace,” Zhongli digs into Venti’s underarms. Venti shoots his arms down and hugs his torso.

“EHEHEEhehehe!! ZHOHOhohonglihihi!! NAHAHAHOO! STAHAHAP! IHIit tihihickles too muhuhuhuch!”

“Really? It tickles? I don’t believe it…”

“AHAHA ZHOHONGLI WAIT! WAHAIT! WAIT NOOHOHO! DOHONT!”

“Don’t what?”

“DOHONT GO THEHERE! PLEHEASE DONT GO THERE!”

Zhongli smirks and hovers his wiggling fingers over his stomach. Venti is squirming more violently now. He pleads but his protests go unheard.

“WAIT! Plehehease! Friend! My handsome friend! Let’s talk about thihis! I’m sorry!EEP! PLehehease!” Venti yelped at a poke to him stomach.

“It’s too late for sorry, I’m afraid. I think you’re pretty handsome yourself, though.”

Zhongli spiders all over the blue haired boy’s tum, making him shriek and cry with laughter.

“EEE!! HEHEHEHE!! ZHOHONGLIHIHIHII! NAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEEASE!! IM SOHOHORRYY!! I GIHIHIVE! FORGIVE ME MORAX! AHAHAHA! I CAHANT TAKE IT!”

Zhongli slows down the torture to a stop. He gently rubs the area to relieve the tingles, but Venti only giggles more.

“Ehehehehe, yohou are sohohoo mehean!”

“You want another round?”

“NO! Ehe! Noho thank you.”

“I think you enjoyed it.”

Venti’s blush darkens, “W-What?! That’s obsured!”

Zhongli laughs, “are you alright?”

He helps the Bard off the floor and back into the chair.

“My soup is cold, so I’m not entirely content with that!” Venti crosses his arms but the smile on his face is impossible to control.

“Well, I very much enjoyed that,” Zhongli sips a cup of tea, not noticing the glare he was receiving.

“Well? Let’s see how you enjoy THIS!” Venti turns and scribbles the geo archon’s sides with determination. Zhongli nearly choking on the tea, laughs instantly.

“AH-! Ahahaha! Vehehenti, pleheease! Gihive me a breheheak!” Zhongli hugs his midriff, but Venti always finds a way to poke at any exposed areas.

“Not today, Mister Zhongli,” he grins.

———

#tickles #tickle #tickle content #tickle fluff #sfw #genshin tickle #genshin impact tickling #sfw tickle #tickle fic #tickle fanfiction #lee!venti #ler!zhongli #lee!zhongli #ler!venti #zhongven

[widowsistersandfriends]

Baking Pranks

Request: hey Would you write more Natasha x her sister fics? I really enjoyed them.

Note: Thank you so much for this request! I love writing for the widow sisters <3 I appreciate you all being patient, especially after my long spell of not writing :) Enjoy!

Summary: Yelena notices that her sister is baking and decides to be mischievous. As usual.

Word Count: 1155

-------------------------------------------------------

Yelena smelled something good coming from the kitchen, making her perk up with curiosity. She got out of bed and began to explore. To her surprise, Natasha was baking in the kitchen. Yelena raised an eyebrow, as it was rare to see her older sister doing any sort of cooking. Most people would have competitions to see who was the better chef. However, it was quite the opposite with them two. Instead they competed to see who was the worst chef. 

Yelena tiptoed closer to figure out what her sister was making. She couldn’t think of any special occasions that were coming up that would require baked goods. However, Yelena knew that this was also the perfect opportunity to mess with her sister. 

The blonde was able to slip out of the house and get a little something from the store nearby. When she returned, Natasha seemed frustrated and upset. Yelena felt guilty now trying to prank her and decided to intervene.

“What’s wrong Natasha?” Yelena asked, her accent coming out strongly, showing that she was genuinely concerned.

“Oh, hi Yelena. I’m just trying to bake and can’t seem to get it right. I’ve had to restart many times now because it’s just not perfect,” Natasha explained.

“What are you baking for?” Yelena inquired.

“Oh, I don’t know, just felt like it,” Natasha responded, avoiding eye contact.

Yelena gasped. “NATASHKA! DO YOU HAVE A PARTNER?!?” Yelena shouted, scooting closer to her sister.

“What? No, why would you think that?” Natasha asked, giving her sister a weird look.

“I don’t know, why else would you be putting in so much effort into something you suck at?” The blonde asked, snorting at her dig. 

“Hey, you’re not any better,” Natasha warned, reaching out to pinch her sister’s upper ribs.

Yelena yelped and jumped back, as Natasha knew every ticklish spot on her sister, both big and small. 

“Rude,” Yelena said, walking away.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked.

“You’ll see,” Yelena said, flashing her a grin, as the redhead knew trouble was coming. 

A few minutes later, Natasha had finally gotten another batch of cake mix together and stirred it to a nice consistency. 

“Okay, now I just need to not overfill the wrappers,” Natasha whispered to herself.

Natasha moved elsewhere in the kitchen to retrieve the paper wrappers for cupcakes. Yelena took this opportunity to quickly move into the kitchen and add a bunch of drops of different food coloring in the batter. She quickly left, hiding around the corner to not get caught but to also see her sister’s reaction.

The redhead returned to her work station, now seeing all the dark drops in her batter.

“What is that?” Natasha asked herself, wondering for a bit what it was. 

She stirred the batter some more to see if she could figure out what it was, as she quickly realized that her perfect colored batter was now a mix of random colors that did not look good together or presentable.

“YELENA!” Natasha shouted, knowing her sister must be the culprit and was nearby. 

The blonde took off, knowing she had to use every second to her advantage. She sprinted upstairs to her bedroom, the redhead following close behind. 

She slammed the door, unable to lock it in time, as Natasha immediately pushed against it. They were evenly matched for the most part, until Yelena began to laugh and lose her strength. 

“Enjoy your last words, because once this door is open you are so done for!” Natasha teased warningly, making her sister laugh even more and lose even more strength. 

The door was now open enough for Natasha to reach her arm through. She reached around with her hand and latched onto Yelena’s side, squeezing away and making her sister collapse and allowing the door to burst open.

“Not fair!” Yelena complained, as Natasha quickly snatched her up and threw her onto the bed.

“You think you’re funny?” Natasha asked, pinning Yelena’s arms above her head and scribbling into her armpits.

“NOHOHOHO NATAHAHASHA STAHAHAHAP!” Yelena cried out, kicking her legs futilely. 

“You wanna be funny and pull pranks?” Natasha asked, grinning evilly to let her sister know she wasn’t actually mad.

“YEHEHES I AHAHAM FUHUNNY,”  Yelena responded, cackling when her sister began to dig between her ribs.

“You’ve been ticklish here since you were a little girl,” Natasha teased, as Yelena shook her head no.

“No?” Natasha asked, leaning down to blow three big raspberries on Yelena’s stomach, making the poor girl tap out, as she was unable to speak.

“Learned your lesson?” Natasha asked, knowing the answer was going to be anything but yes.

“I learned that you’re too old and slow to notice real spies in action,” Yelena dared to say, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously. 

“Oh you’re so in for it,” Natasha growled, turning around and sitting on Yelena’s shins. With that, she used her nails up and down Yelena’s soles and the tops of her feet, making her scream with laughter. She also occasionally reached back to squeeze her knees and thighs, making the blonde jump and squeal every time.

Natasha let her guard up for a bit, which allowed Yelena to throw her off from all her squirming. However, Natasha was quick to rebound and pinned Yelena face down.

“Ah ah ah, I’m not done with you yet,” Natasha grinned, as she reached her hand under Yelena’s shirt and began to tickle her lower back and sides with her evil nails.

“NATASHA I SWEHEHEAR!” Yelena shouted, cursing her body for being so sensitive.

“You swear what?” Natasha asked, dipping into her sides again.

“I SWEAR I WOHOHONT PRAHAHANK YOU AGAHAHAIN,” Yelena pleaded, both of them knowing the real truth that Yelena would most definitely continue to prank her sister.

“Alright, I’ll let you go for now,” Natasha said, getting off of her sister. Yelena huffed in annoyance, curling up in a ball to get rid of the lingering sensation.

“You are really a jerk,” Yelena said in annoyance.

“And you really are a brat,” Natasha said, tousling her sister’s hair.

“You never answered why you were baking,” Yelena said, now genuinely curious.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t know?”

“Me?” Yelena guessed with a shy smile.

“Always you, my sweet baby sister,” Natasha said, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

“But why?” Yelena said, feeling soft and loved.

“I know how much you love sweets and wanted to make a special treat for you,” Natasha responded.

“But then, you know, you ruined it with your brattiness,” Natasha teased, lightly tickling Yelena’s stomach, making her giggle and swat her hand away.

“Come on, I’ll help you finish baking. After all I am the expert here,” Yelena said, now getting up and leading her sister to the kitchen.

Natasha rolled her eyes with a smile, happy to bake with her sister, as it would be way more fun than by herself.

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #marvel tickle fic #tickle fic #ler!natasha #mcu tickle #marvel tickle #black widow #ticklish!yelena #lee!yelena #mcu #mcu tickle fic #widow sisters #marvel #fanfic #tickle fanfic #tickle fanfiction #tickle fight #tickling #tickles #tickle #fics #prompts

[giggleeclown]

Mock Comedy and Play Fights (Undertale Tickle Fic)

Description: When Papyrus and Sans stay late at Toriel’s house until even after Frisk is asleep, their conversation turns a little dry for Papyrus’ taste. Luckily, Toriel and Sans always know how to leave him laughing.

Vivi’s input: THIS IS A SFW TICKLE FIC! If you don’t like that, go away! This also has IMPLIED SORIEL. …but it doesn’t have to be taken that way. Also, this is my first fic in AGES. … and my first official Undertale fic. So if you don’t like that…. GO AWAY! …I wrote most of this very late at night so if it’s inconsistent and you don’t like it? ….you know the drill just don’t read the thing if you don’t like it fuejhf

_______________________________________________

Laughter is the best medicine, or so they say. Perhaps that’s why Toriel had ended her day with the beloved skeleton brothers by sitting down and trading jokes. Sans sat in the armchair catty-corner, while his brother sat next to her on the couch. Darkness had fallen. What a lovely night for company.

It had started with stories at first, but it seemed that Sans couldn’t help himself around his ‘Tori’, and slowly began devolving the conversation into repetitive puns. That just seemed to be how it always went between those two. At that cue, Papyrus slowly shrank away from the banter, focusing his attention on a complex rubix cube he had been trying to solve.

He didn’t dare ruin their fun, though. Truth be told, Papyrus not only had a soft spot for Sans’ humor, but also for Toriel being in their lives. Since they had reached the surface a few months ago, they had been visiting more frequently, and, every time they did, Sans lit up in a way that Papyrus couldn’t describe. His laughs were more frequent, his smiles made his eyes crease, and he, for the most part, was always able to stay awake for the duration of their visits. Honestly, Papyrus loved hearing the two laugh, especially his brother. That’s why he remained silent, even at points where it became dreadfully exasperating.

“Oh, Sans, do tell another, please!” Toriel begged, wiping a tear from her eye. Sans had to catch his breath before stringing on more, drawing even more laughter from her. Papyrus even had to bite back giggles on a particular few that involved puzzles. It wasn’t until a particularly horrible pun that the ‘fight or flight’ response in him was triggered. He groaned loudly, face in his hands, and that seemed to cause the two to just laugh harder. “OH MY GOD!” Papyrus shouted, muffled by his gloves. He sat up to look at the two. “YOU TWO ARE RIDICULOUS.” That got a chuckle out of Toriel. “No, no, Papyrus,” she began. “We settled that in the underground, remember?” “yeah, bro,” Sans continued, reading her cue with a smirk. “we’re boneheads.” Papyrus only rolled his eyes and unresponsively returned to his rubix cube.

Toriel had noticed Papyrus’ lack of interest, and almost felt a little conflicted by it. It was safe to say that Sans didn’t mind, this was frequent behavior for and to him, but the motherly side of the goat encouraged her to be a little lighthearted and playful, especially because she wanted to see his playful side come out and get to know him better. Even Papyrus should have a pun time! As Sans continued his mock routine, Toriel moved herself a little closer to Papyrus, until she was at his side. He had been fiddling with his rubix cube so intensely that he hadn’t noticed. She continued to giggle at Sans, who was still unexpecting as well, but, at another specifically awful pun, she lurched backwards with laughter, grabbing the skeleton beside her and taking him back with her. “YIII-” He screeched, feeling himself be lifted up and pressed to her chest.

“Goodness, that was funny, was it not, Papyrus?” She giggled sincerely, but he was too confused to respond. Sans now noticed his brother’s new position, but didn’t bat an eye, chuckling at his strange noise.” “yknow, pap, i’d yelp ya out, but you seem tah be takin’ control of the screech-uation.” Papyrus went to respond, inhaling and lifting a finger in protest, but immediately felt large, clawed paws vibrating against his ribcage. The response was immediate. The poor thing launched backwards, head tilted back with a squeal that dissolved into goofy, bubbly giggles. Toriel laughed with him, playing it off like she was laughing at Sans’ remark. “My, my, Sans,” Tori giggled. “It seems that you now have quite the dedicated audience!”

“N-NO, NO!” Papyrus squirmed in her grasp, but was truly secured by the taller figure. “NO, TICKLING ISN’T FAIR!” He exclaimed all this through giggles (as well as a few embarrassing snorts.) On any other occasion, he would have done his best to hold back his laughter, but the surprise had certainly put him at a disadvantage. He tried his best to shakily curl up into a ball, but found it impossible, as Toriel held his midriff as she tickled. He couldn’t press his knees to his chest if he tried.

Speaking of, now the monstress hugged her victim with one arm, squeezing his hips and knees with the other. Papyrus couldn’t reach his lower half due to the fact that he couldn’t lean down, so he settled for covering his mouth and face through squirms and shrieks. Sans had begun to catch on now, and couldn’t be more amused. “awh, bro, has she goat you good?” Papyrus tried to shout at him, but instantly felt his laughter double when gentle fingers scritched at his underarms. All he could get out was a comedic: “SA-AAAAHAHAHEEHEEHEE!” Instantly, Papyrus’s arms clamped down, revealing his pink, bug-eyed, and rather hysterical looking face. Toriel couldn’t help but laugh at both Sans’ pun and Papyrus’ cute laughter. Sans snorted. “yea, bro? ya don’t have to shout, everybone-y’s right here.” Toriel guffawed again, holding Papyrus close and nuzzling her cheek up against his. She didn’t even expect him to be especially ticklish there, but, sure enough, he let out a loud snort before once again attempting to wriggle away.

As much as Papyrus would protest this, Toriel was not at all being harsh or malicious with him. As a matter of fact, she seldom showed any mischief in her gesture. Though he was held securely, Papyrus was not at all strangled or crushed, and Toriel’s tickling remained gentle, though quick and articulate. He wasn’t hurt or overstimulated, and, though he would never admit it, he was somewhat enjoying the game, as well as the extra attention. Just the same, Toriel was enjoying herself, too. She hadn’t gotten to be a ‘tickle monster’ since….well. Regardless, she absolutely loved having an excuse to be so tickly again. She hadn’t realized Papyrus was the perfect target for this sort of behavior. When her paws batted at the curvature of his spine over his shirt, Papyrus made a new, loud, excitable noise. His hysterical laughter was replaced with high pitched shrieks and squeals. Her eyes lit up and became even a little glassy. Papyrus’ giggles were almost downright boyish. He truly was reminding her of someone else in this state, and it caused her to become even more affectionate. With an overwhelming sense of love, Toriel took Papyrus backwards in her arms again, shooting her fluffy hands up his shirt to scratch at his spine and scribble under his arms and inside his ribs. She began to nuzzle into his neck as she did so. Papyrus’ back arched with a harsh shriek as he kicked his feet out in response, wheezing and squealing to his heart’s delight. Toriel noted that he no longer seemed to squirm with a gentle smile.

“jeez, bro, this is no laughing matter. at this rate, you’ll break the windows.” “YOHOU-YOHOHOU’RE NOT FUNNYEEHEE! NYAHAHEEE!” Was all that Papyrus could say before he threw himself into another fit of infectious giggles. Sans beamed. “you sure, dude? judging by all those giggles ‘n whatever, i’m inclined to say you’re findin’ this pretty humerus.” Reluctantly, Papyrus laughed hard and long in response. “see? you got it, bro, good job.” “SAAHAANS! HEEHEHEELP!” The trapped skeleton wailed, to which Toriel giggled. “How rude, Papyrus, wanting to leave during Sans’ terrific comedy routine!” She scritched at his neck with her claws, watching him squeeze his eyes shut and dissolve into snickers. “Don’t leave so soon, or else he’ll get bonely!” Sans winked at her as Toriel drilled her thumb into the taller skeleton’s hip, evoking a loud gasp. “yeah, pap, it ain’t funny bein’ without my bone-ified bro.” Papyrus’ shaky giggles filled the room once more, though he groaned through them. Toriel mock-gasped, taking this as an excuse to go full on with her game, especially when she realized Papyrus was trying to grab onto the couch and pull himself out of her grasp. “Groaning at your brother’s very kind and loving compliment? I suppose this is worthy of my special attack, Papyrus!”

“NO-NOHO- LADY TORIEHEL- WAHAHAIT- NYEEHEEHEHAHA!” But it was too late. Toriel leaned down and blew a loud raspberry on the side of his spine, taking him down with tickles. By this point, poor Papyrus had begun to hiccup between his giggles, face dusted red with embarrassment. Sans chuckled, but knew his brother better than anyone. “hey, tori, let’s give him a break, ’kay? we wanna leave ‘em laughing, not kill him with laughter.” With that, Toriel giggled awkwardly and let the poor, giggling, snickering skeleton up. After a few moments of dazed giggles and hiccups, Papyrus cleared his throat and sat up, a little dizzy and embarrassed. “W-WELL, MISS TORIEL, YOU MAY HAVE WON THIS TIME, BUT I ASSURE YOU, IF IT WERE NOT FOR MY FATIGUE, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN SO EASILY TROUNCED.” Toriel giggled, rubbing his back to help him recover. “I do apologize, Papyrus, but your real, genuine laugh is much too cute to resist!” This caused Papyrus to blush a little, giggling. “NYEHEH! W-WELL, AT LEAST THROUGH ALL OF THIS, WE ALL RECOGNIZE THAT SANS’ PUNS WERE NOT THE CAUSE FOR MY LAUGHTER, BUT RATHER LADY TORIEL’S RATHER CONCERNING TICKLING SKILLS.”

That got a glare out of Sans that just screamed sibling rivalry. “ya really think so? hey, tor, lemme try somethin’ real quick.” Toriel read the room, holding onto Papyrus once more before he could comprehend squirming away. Sans got up out of the arm chair, slowly creeping towards the captive skeleton with wiggly fingers. “hey, papyrussssss,” That was all it took, apparently. Papyrus immediately squealed, thrashing vigorously. It was the ‘big brother’ role coming into play. No matter how big Papyrus got, he would always fear his brother’s tickles. “SANS, S-STAY BACK, GET AWAYHEHE, SHOO!” But Sans continued forward, finally coming face to face with his trapped brother. Papyrus curled his toes under his socks and let out a shriek. “pap.” Sans couldn’t help but laugh. “‘m not even touching you… yet.”

Knowing he had already endured a lot, Sans skittered his fingers under Papyrus’ chin, as if he were a certain dog they all knew. Papyrus immediately squealed, squirming and giggling softly, making his loved ones smirk. When Papyrus let forth a harsh squeal followed by a loud snort, Sans pulled away, he and Toriel laughing at Papyrus’ cuteness as Sans sat down on the couch beside them.

Papyrus groaned. “WHY ARE YOU TWO LAUGHING? YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO LAUGH ABOUT!” Both settled down, Toriel letting him get off her lap again and settle properly, Sans looking up at him with his signature wink and shrug. “dunno, bro. it’s probably ‘cause you’ve got, like, the goofiest laugh on the entire surface. it cheers everyone up.” “HEY,” His brother snapped back. “... THAT’S TRUE.” His friends chuckled as he pulled them both close, almost in a sort of two-way-snuggle. They snuggled back. He sighed with a playfully frustrated smile and a tired chuckle. “NYEHEH…I SUPPOSE, IF YOU TWO ARE BONEHEADS, AND MY LAUGH IS THE GOOFIEST ON THE SURFACE, THAT MAKES ME A GOOFBALL, DOESN’T IT?” Sans beamed. “the goofiest goofball I know.” “Yes,” Toriel chuckled. “The one us boneheads love the most.” Toriel and Sans once began, albeit a little more sleepily this time, giggled.

This time, Papyrus giggled with them.

#tickling #ticklish #t content #t word community #t word #t word content #undertickles #undertale tickle #undertale tickling #lee!papyrus #ler!toriel #ler!sans #ticklish!sans #tk fic #tickle fanfiction

[chaoticklesblog]

Let Me Show You How it's Done

Ler! Charlie Lee! Nick with some Lee! Charlie

Heartstopper Tickle Fic Incoming! It's no secret that Nick always tickles Charlie every chance he gets. Charlie, being a bit smaller and weaker than his boyfriend, never seems quite able to turn the tables, that is, until he recruits the assistance of Nick's older brother David who wants to help Charlie get some well deserved revenge. (Set in a context that David isn't a jerk of a brother/human being).

Charlie and Nick spent plenty of time spending afternoons and evenings together doing homework, playing Mario Kart, and on particularly nice evenings, walking Nellie.

This was a particularly rainy and chilly evening, and Nick and Charlie had just finished their end of term essays for literature and history and were getting ready to watch a movie. They were at Nick's house this evening and Nick's mother was working a bit later than usual. She'd promised to pick them all up a pizza later when she returned. Nick's older brother David just so happened to be home for spring break from university and had left Nick and Charlie alone in the den to finish homework and enjoy each other's company in peace.

Well, as much peace as the couple could have, considering that Nick frequently would wrestle Charlie onto the sofa during movie nights and video game sessions to tickle the snot out of his lanky and curly headed boyfriend. This was nothing new, of course. Nick felt that Charlie's squeals and snorts were precious, and Charlie could hardly mind. After all, he deserved it for laughing at Nick for his choice in cinema taste for their impromptu movie night.

"NihihihIHIHICK, stahahahaHAHAHPIT," Charlie squealed as his brawny and much stronger boyfriend pinched at his tummy, easily a bad spot for Charlie.

"I don't think so, Charlie," Nick chuckled down at his boyfriend teasingly. "You enjoy laughing at my expense so much, laughing at my movie selection. Besides, there's nothing wrong with The Princess Bride! It's a fantastic film!" Nick dug into Charlie's sides with renewed vigor, pretending to be insulted.

And poor Charlie was now realizing he never should have commented that it was ironic that the Captain of the rugby team's favorite movie was something as hokey as The Princess Bride.

"ALRIHIHIHIGHT! I'M SORHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEE!" Charlie screeched as Nick reached for his sensitive knee caps, squeezing into the muscle right above and relishing his boyfriends precious laughter.

"Hmmm, I don't know if I believe you," Nick smirked as Charlie squirmed desperately.

Eventually, Nick ceased his tickle attack in favor of making them some popcorn, leaving Charlie to giggle and rub the residual tickly sensations from the backs of his knees. Man, some days he wished Nick never discovered just how ticklish the backs of his knees were.

Charlie heard a soft chuckle from the staircase. Unknown to Nick, David had observed their one-sided tickle fight from the stair landing.

"You really make him happy," David commented.

"Er, thanks..." Charlie replied awkwardly.

"I'm sure Nick is happy not to be on the receiving end of tickle fights anymore as well," David snorted slightly.

"Oh, believe me, I've tried," Charlie could hear the popcorn in the microwave from the kitchen start popping. He dropped his voice, "Nick just isn't that ticklish."

"Rubbish. You just aren't getting his tickle spots," David supplied with a wink.

"But he's a lot stronger than me," Charlie grumbled. "Anytime I try to tickle him, he quickly turns the tables."

David laughed fondly. He was rather amused watching their antics. But David was Nick's big brother. He had loads of experience tickling the snot out of Nick and had no problem with teaching Charlie his little brothers worst spots.

"Why don't I give you a hand?" David dropped his voice upon hearing the microwave ding. Nick would be on his way back with the popcorn in just a few moments.

Charlie nodded, excited at the idea of learning how to tickle Nick and getting some well-deserved revenge for all the times Nick tortured him.

David walked over near the entrance of the kitchen, just out of view, to sneak attack Nick.

When Nick returned with a giant bowl of popcorn, David tackled him sending the buttery popcorn flying and Nick letting out a surprised yelp.

"David? What the hell?" Nick attempted to escape the expert hold but was unsuccessful and still in such shock that the popcorn lay scattered about, forgotten. Charlie watched with a smirk, enjoying the show.

"Come here, Charlie, let me show you how it's done!" David plopped Nick down on the sofa, still confused before Nick felt his heart drop.

"Now Nick has two death spots," David winked at Nick, who was now pinned beneath his brother and the sofa, writhing about, knowing all too well where this was going.

"D-David, don't!" Nick yelped.

"Don't what?" David asked innocently.

"Tickle me!" Nick screeched, suddenly realizing what a fatal mistake he made. He could've kicked himself! How could he fall for the teases he pulled on Charlie all the time?

"Hear that, Charlie? He's given us permission. Hell, he's basically asked for this!" David crowed.

David had Nick's arm pinned above his head and had his fingers wiggling just above Nick's underarm.

"His hips and armpits are really ticklish, if I remember right..." David chuckled darkly. Of course, he remembered correctly. Big brothers don't forget tickle spots of younger siblings.

Charlie climbed over to smirk down at Nick. "Not so tough now, are we?"

"Bite me!" Nick growled, but it sounded more like a whimper.

"You better get your revenge now, Charlie!"

Charlie looked into Nick's pleading eyes and almost took pity on the older boy. Almost.

And that's when Charlie latched onto Nick's hips, and David dug roughly into his underarms, and Nick absolutely shrieked with laughter. Charlie couldn't help but chuckle at Nick's plight.

"Jeez, Nick! You're worse than me!" Charlie crowed triumphantly, digging harshly into the hip pockets, causing Nick to flop around uselessly.

"SCREHEHEHEHEW YOHOHOHOHOUU GUHUHUHUYS!" Nick cackled.

Nick hadn't been tickled in two of his worst spots in a very, very long time. Even when David had tickled him in their younger days, it was only one person tickling him. Now, both his older brother and boyfriend were torturing his two worst tickle spots. Not fair!

Nick continued to gasp and spultter as Charlie and David exploited his worst tickle spots.

"OKAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAHAHAHAY!" Nick squeaked.

Charlie enjoyed watching Nick come apart at the seams. After all, the rugby captain deserved it for tormenting him so many times.

Finally, David gestured for Charlie, who had gotten too carried away with tickling Nick to tears, to cease their tickle attack only after Nick's laughter had gone silent and wheezy.

Charlie had reluctantly stopped tickling his boyfriend and gave him some space as David released his hold and affectionately ruffled Nick's already messed up hair.

"Sorry, Nick, but I felt like your boyfriend could use some revenge. You were pretty brutal while you were tickling him earlier," David chuckled.

"Did we go too far?" Charlie peeked sideways at his boyfriend after David retreated upstairs after cleaning up the popcorn mess scattered on the floor.

"Just wait until I get you back." Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie, not tickling him, not just yet, as he knew anticipation would drive Charlie mad. Charlie tensed but giggled as he enjoyed knowing he could now reduce Nick to a squirmy puddle of laughter.

"I would be careful if I were you," Charlie murmured. "I now know your worst spots, and I'll just get you back."

Nick shivered, but he couldn't help but be excited to find out if Charlie really would get him back. Nick really didn't mind it so much, after all.

#heartstopper #heartstopper tickle fanfic #tickle fic blog #tickle fanfic #ticklish!charlie #ticklish!nick #tickle content #tickle fanfiction #heartstopper fanfic #sfw tickling community #tword blog #tword content #sfw tickling

[puddingpawprints]

Countdown

Jay gets bored during a workout with Cole. It’s safe to say neither of them make much progress as a result. 

Hello!!!!!!!!! This is my first tk fic, hope you enjoy!! this is intended to be platonic but you can see it as romantic if you’d like, whatever floats your boat :3

(takes place a while after Season 11 for those that care fjdksfds)

Wordcount: 3384

Safe for Work

This is a tickle fanfic! If that’s not your thing, scroll away.

. . . . .‿︵‿︵‿୨🍮୧︵‿︵‿︵. . . . .

“43! 44! 45!” Jay cheers, watching his best friend power through a set of pull-ups, sweat shining on his pinched brow.

Cole raises his chin above the steel bar with visible effort, reaching the end of his endurance after the past 2 hours of training their bodies with weights and various exercises. He hangs on the bar and breathes hard, flipping the hair damp with exertion out of his eyes. 

“How many left?” He says between deep inhales, his chest rising and falling. 

The ginger quickly counts on his fingers, “5, 45 was your set last week.” Cole groans and throws his head back. 

“Dude come on! It’s just 5! That’s like, a little more than 3. You can do 3 more and then some!” 

“But I don’t wannaaaaaaa…” The other whines, slowly kicking his legs in the air like a child on the monkey bars being told they have to leave. 

“I’ll give you one of my pudding cups if you do 55,” Jay says with a salesman’s smirk. Cole looks up quickly, a drop of sweat flying from the speed. 

“50.” He bargains, baring his sweet tooth with a small smile. 

“53.” 

“51.” 

“Deal,” Jay says, confident that given how tired the other already is, he won’t be able to win the bet.

The black ninja adjusts his grip and takes a deep breath, gathering himself before pulling himself up with a strained grunt. 

“46!” Jay resumes his rallying as he watches his friend’s chin slowly go past the bar. “47!” 

Cole’s mouth is twisted into a grimace as he shakes with strain, becoming more and more aware of how heavy his body is. “48! Come on Cole!” The motivation from the other was starting to get annoying, but he knew that the minute he asked Jay to stop talking, the ginger would either start talking even more just to mess with him or Cole’s stamina would 

disappear. He couldn’t explain how it worked, like how he couldn’t explain the difference between baking soda and baking powder. They were both white, went into the batter, and had ‘baking’ in the name, why don’t they work the same??

“49!! You’re so close, dude!” Jay’s enthusiasm was a little odd considering how defensive he could be of his sweets. If anybody had a bigger sweet tooth than the guy who was famous for eating cake, it would be Jay. The only one who could beat them both in that area would be Lloyd. The sweaty man didn’t think much of it, the taxing action of pulling himself up demanding his focus. 

Cole hung from the bar to catch his breath again, panting hard from the burning in his arms and core. 

“Dude don’t stop now, you got 2 left-“ 

“I know, Jay! Doing this shit is hard,” He interrupted, huffing and flipping the pesky strands of sticky hair out of his eyes again. “I just need a minute.” 

“Ok. 1, 2, 3-“

“Oh First Master, you big baby.” Cole laughed as he lightly kicked at the other man, “You need to work with Wu on your patience.” 

“And you need to do 2 more pull-ups, chop chop!” Jay retorted sassily, poking Cole’s side with a finger to make his point known and felt. 

“Knock it off!” Cole laughed while squirming on the bar. “I can’t focus if you’re acting like a toddler.” 

“But you can focus on Ninja Kart when Lloyd is screaming in all our ears about the game being rigged?” 

“That’s different.” 

“Not really.” 

“Is too!” 

“Is not!” 

“I’ll argue about this later.” Cole shook his head, adjusting his hands. 

“When? After your hands fuse to the bar from hanging there so long?” 

“After you can do the same amount of pushups as me.” The black ninja looked down with an obnoxious smile. 

“Wow. That’s low.” Jay remarked, crossing his arms and staring with the expression of a bratty child being told ‘no’.

“Not as low as you should be on your pushups.” 

“Ok, you know what?!” The ginger huffed, “You’ve lost your pudding privileges!” Cole’s mouth opened in fake shock and disappointment, letting go of the bar seeing that his friend had stopped counting in favor of falling into the argument trap. 

“I’ll just have to steal one when you aren’t looking.” The other smiled mischievously as he slowly windmilled his arms, quickly getting a furious glare. “Do we have anything else on the workout regime today?” He asked as he crouched to take a swig from his water bottle. Jay pulled his phone from the pocket of his loose gym shorts and looked through the list of exercises he had written down from Wu. Skimming the ones the pair had already done, he reaches the bottom of the list, and lets out an obnoxious groan. “What?” Cole questions with a raised eyebrow, wiping his neck with a small towel.

“We have to do a plank for 2 minutes or more,” Jay complains. 

“Planks are easy, though.” The earth ninja said. 

“Says you mountain man! Not all of us have the core strength of a literal continent.” Jay shoots back, his nose scrunching in aggravation with his hands on his hips. 

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it triple A?” 

“Shut up and get on the floor, dirt boy.” Jay shot back, getting a timer ready on his phone as Cole laughed. The earth ninja took another drink of his water before shutting the cap and lying stomach down on the tatami mat, letting a curt moan slip as his propped elbows stretched his upper back. “Ok, ready?” The other sat beside Cole, crossing his legs with his thumb over the start button. 

“Yup.” The ninja on the floor answered, shifting his arms to hold his weight better. With a ‘Go’ from Jay, Cole tightened his core and raised his middle, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes in concentration. 

The lightning ninja watched the seconds tick by on his phone, occasionally flicking his eyes to make sure Cole’s back was straight. 6, 7, 8, 9…

And now Jay was bored. 

“Coooooole, I’m bored.” He said out loud, laying on his back. Cole responded by letting out a long exhale. “Wow, rude. You won’t even answer your best friend’s immediate suffering. Right next to you!” 

“Shut up, Jay,” Cole warned, not opening his eyes. “Count the threads in the mat or something.” The ginger huffed, holding up his phone over his head to recheck the timer. 18, 19, 20… He sat back up to stare at Cole’s back. The loose black tank top he was wearing hung from his torso, showing a bit of his sides and stomach. Jay looked back to Cole’s face, still tightly knit with focus. 

There was a seed of an idea, one Cole might hate him for. The black ninja did not like being interrupted; napping, eating, drawing, and working out were all things the noiret would prefer to not be taken away from if it could be helped. Training especially was a way for him to take his mind off of the outside world, and he was always working to make himself stronger and better at fighting. It was admirable, but it could lead to some unhealthy expectations… 

Jay scooched himself to face Cole’s side, placing his chin on his palm as he watched a few more seconds go by. A smile crawled its way on his face as the idea became more and more appealing, and he tried to hide it with his hand despite the fact the other’s eyes were still closed and facing away from him anyway. Another glance at the phone told him Cole was 35 seconds into his plank. 

“Hey Cole, your form is incorrect.” The blue ninja lied, trying not to let his smile become obvious. That got his best friend to react, turning his head and giving Jay a confused look. “Raise your back riiiiight…here.” He reached a pointed finger towards Cole’s exposed side, repeating his earlier action when Cole was hanging on the pull-up bar. A snort, and a quick inhale. 

“Jay- don’t.” The other protested, trying to keep a stern voice. 

“What? I’m just trying to help.”  He knew it was a bullshit lie, especially coming from him, but Jay was having too much fun. “You need to fix your form here too.” He continued prodding at Cole’s side, moving up to his ribs. The black ninja was beginning to shake now, a combination of strained effort and giggles. 

“Duhude! I can’t- my forhorm is fihihine!” Cole laughed, now completely unable to keep a serious face as Jay lightly tickled him. The other was frankly impressed that he hadn’t collapsed yet, especially when he began to trace lines on the exposed small of his back, the laughter going up in pitch. “Jahahay!” 

“Wow Cole, I didn't think your plank would be this bad. We should work on doing planks more often so you can get out of this bad habit.” Jay paid zero attention to Cole’s crumbling endurance and was having the time of his life doing so. “You need to raise your hips too, they’re way low.” Cole let out a short shriek as Jay squeezed his hip.

“AAH! Dickhehehead!” He laughed, trying to breathe through his tight stomach and the giggles at the same time. 

“Hey, it's not my fault your form needs correcting!” 

Cole’s endurance finally emptied, and he collapsed onto the floor, now able to try and squirm away from Jay’s evil hands. “This is nohohohot cohorrectihihihihing! You ahahahahass!!” He yelled, curling in on himself on his side to try and avoid the tickles. 

“Awww man! You didn’t make the time.” The ginger huffed with mock disappointment, latching his fingers to random ribs and tasing them. The reaction was immediate, Cole’s belly laugh coming solid and loud as he thrashed on the tatami mats under his best friend. “Consider this payback for being rude when I was just trying to help!” 

“YOUHOUHOU DID NOHOHOHOT HEHEHEHELP!” The earth ninja exclaimed between laughs, his own hands trying and failing to pry the others from his sides. 

“Help comes in many forms, Cole. You need to be a little more open-minded.” Jay retorted, channeling his element to send harmless shocks through his fingers to tickle the ninja’s ribs even more. “Like right now, I’m helping you get used to my electricity.” 

“JAHAHAHAHAHAY!!” He was fighting for his life now, throwing himself from one side to the other to try and buck the other off. It was proving to be a difficult task, as Jay had somehow managed to straddle Cole’s hips as he lay on his stomach, scrabbling at the floor to try and crawl away from the tickling. “MERCYHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!” 

“I’ll grant mercy if you promise not to steal any of my pudding.” The blue ninja offered, stopping the shocks but keeping his fingers scribbling at the same speed. The black ninja 

continued to writhe under his friend, trying to reach his hands behind to shoo Jay’s hands away. But when Jay shoved his fingers into his armpits and began scratching, a renewal of energy made Cole buck and screech. 

“FUHUHUHUCK! I WOHOHOHOHON’T!” 

“You woooooon't?” Jay pestered, tilting his head as he dragged the word out and diving his hand into the scrunched crevice of his friend’s neck to scribble at. 

“I WON’T STEHEHEHEAL YOUR PUHUHUHUDDIHIHIHIHING!” Cole managed to get out, gulping air as Jay stopped. He let his body lay completely flat on the cool floor, his back twitching while residual giggles leaked out in between breaths. His best friend crawled off his hips and pushed his water bottle to him across the floor. Cole looked at the bottle, and then at Jay. “Dick.” He said sourly. 

“In the flesh.” Jay acknowledged with obnoxious triumph, crossing his legs and turning off the timer as Cole turned on his back to sit up and drink his water. “You had 17 seconds left! You could’ve made that.” 

“I could’ve if you weren’t being a total jackass.” Cole said while rolling his eyes, putting his water down, and grabbing his phone from the floor, tossed aside in the roughhousing. His friend chortled with fake innocence and laid down for his plank, staring at the intricate patterns of the threading while the timer was readied. 

“Ok, are you all set?” The taller man said, patiently biding his time while Jay nodded. He started the timer, and the ginger held up his body while taking a deep breath. Cole watched the numbers on the timer slowly ticking down, already figuring out what the best way to get back at his best friend would be.  

He cracked his knuckles absently and watched Jay struggle to hold his plank. Although the master of lightning was still an incredibly strong fighter, he had been teased by the others for his weak core strength. He didn’t have abs like Kai or Nya, instead having lean muscles. Although this worked to his advantage so he could move faster in fights, it also meant he didn’t have that much endurance when it came to these kinds of exercises. 

“Jay, will you do me a favor?” Cole asked, not even trying to fight a huge smile as he plotted. The other hummed, taking a shaky breath. “Hold still.” The reaction was immediate; Jay whipped his head to stare at Cole with eyes the size of Zane’s shurikens. He noticed that Cole had moved his hand to hover under his stomach, his fingers in a claw form. 

“Wait- Waitwaitwait Cole you don’t have to-” The hand hadn’t even touched his stomach yet and he was already trying to reason for his life in between nervous giggles. He knew that Cole would always get any of them back for that kinda stuff, but he didn’t think his teammate would do it this soon.

“No, I think I do, Jay. Fair’s fair after all, right?” He gave a condescending smile as Jay’s trembling increased. Cole reached his still hand up, just touching down on the black tank top that covered the planking torso. The blue ninja let out a small shriek, now realizing that he had backed himself into a very dangerous corner. 

“What? I’m just helping with your form after all.” Cole said with a mocking tone, slowly moving his fingers and taking great joy in the way his friend sucked in a breath to stop himself from laughing. Strained snorts prompted Cole to move his hand in a circular motion around where his belly button would be. Jay immediately folded inward, cackling as Cole’s fingers picked up speed. 

“AHAHahaha- IhI’m sorry! WAHAHAAAIT- Cohohohole please!” He tried to negotiate, even if he knew that once Cole started, he wasn’t going to until he had made his point clear.

“You know? I don’t think you are. I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” His tickler retorted casually, effortlessly pulling him into his lap so he could reach better. Cole wrapped an arm around his chest and scribbled his fingers into the top of his ribs, tickling his stomach with his other hand as if it were not ‘agony’ for the blue ninja. Jay’s laughter went up in pitch as he tried to pull himself free of Cole’s arm, kicking his legs and hitting the floor with his heels. 

“NONONOHOHOHO! Cohohohole plehehehease!! UhuhuhUHUNCLE!!” He laughed with a touch of hysteria. 

“I don’t think your uncle’s coming to save you.” Cole teased playfully, his tone becoming dark as his smile turned sinister through his cheeks. “The only person who’s here is…” 

“DOHOHOhohon’t!! Don’t sahahahay ihihit!” Jay pleaded as he flushed, his face already warm from how hard he was laughing. 

“Don’t say what?” Cole asked, his smile growing with mischief. “Don’t say…the tickle monster?!” 

Jay’s fate had been sealed as Cole’s hands swiped under his tank top, quickly scribbling all over the ticklish skin. Jay squealed and thrashed in his friend’s hold, a rush of adrenaline washing his energy back into him. He laughed even harder as he felt tiny raspberries on his neck and shoulders, his supposed best friend continuing to tickle him out of his mind. 

“COHOHOHOHOHOHLE! NOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!” He tried to beg through snorts and chortles, shaking his head as if trying to wiggle the tickles out of his body. 

“No can do, you’ve got-” He leaned over to look at his phone, still tickling his squirming target. “A minute and 18 seconds left.” The black ninja smiled, squeezing the man’s hip with one hand and his opposite side with the other. Jay’s mirth went up in pitch again as he tried rocking his body to get out of the stone-stiff hold. 

“GYAHAHAHAHA! YOUHOU DIHIHIHIHICK!!” The ginger argued as if he were not in the worst position ever to do so. Still fighting against his friend’s arms, he reached for the other’s knees and flailed to grab them, trying to push himself forward. This escape attempt backfired when a hand immediately began scratching at one of the exposed armpits, making Jay snap his arms down and fall back against his friend’s chest.

“Not so fast bud, gotta finish your time.” Cole said, looking down at his friend with a smile, taking a little too much enjoyment out of his squirming. 

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T! PLEHEHEHEASE NOHOHO-” 

“So what exactly is going on here?” A different voice interrupted, making both look to the sliding door. Nya stood with a hand on her hip, her other hand holding the door open as she watched with a vaguely confused expression. 

“Oh, hey Nya. We’re finishing our workout, what’s up?” The earth ninja said calmly, not stopping his fingers or acknowledging Jay on the brink of falling apart from laughing so hard. 

“NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHE!” He begged, looking at his girlfriend with small tears in his eyes. His expectation that the water ninja would jump in to save him was soundly destroyed when Nya only gave a small smile as if his torture was endearing to her. 

“Wu said lunch is ready. Come to the table when you’re done, ok?” She said loudly over the laughter, taking mental notes on where Cole’s hands were and how badly Jay was laughing. She’d abuse that information another day. 

“Sure thing, thanks Nya!” The taller man said chipperly, spidering his hands up and down Jay’s sides as he gave a blameless smile, watching Nya huff out a chuckle and walk away. Mercifully, and because his best friend was starting to wheeze, he stopped his hands and let them come to the floor to support himself while leaning back. Taking the opportunity, Jay weakly rolled out of the ninja’s lap as his chest heaved, pulling down his raised tank top that exposed his giant tickle spot of a stomach. “You didn’t make your time either. We’re even.” His ‘friend’ said cooly, looking down at him with a smug grin. Jay tried and failed to muster up a glare, the residual giggles and ghostly tingles forcing him to shuffle away toward his water bottle as he kept his eyes on Cole, who was turning off the timer on his phone. 

“You’re..still…a dick.” He said between large inhales, gulping his water down as if he were going to die otherwise. 

“What? Fair’s fair, right?” Cole teased, wiggling his fingers before folding them into a fist and holding it out. A peace offering, which the other squinted at suspiciously over the cap of his bottle. He wasn’t new to Cole’s tricks, being best friends with him taught Jay to be on his guard the hard way. “I promise I’m done. Swear on my chili.” The black ninja tried, moving his still fist a little closer. He watched his teammate think for a bit, and then hold up his hand to make it into a fist, bumping the dark knuckles against his freckled ones. 

“Truce. No takebacks.” The blue ninja said quickly, eyeing his friend with lighthearted distrust. 

“Sure, I’ll just take a pudding cup as a bargaining chip.” Cole snarked, quickly taking off and running down the hall where Nya had gone earlier.

“YOU MOUNTAIN CLIMBING CUNT!” Jay screeched, stumbling to his feet and speeding after his friend, laughter following the two of them all the way to the dining room, where Wu scolded the both of them for running in the halls.

. . . . .‿︵‿︵‿୨🍮୧︵‿︵‿︵. . . . .

hello again :3 feel free to leave constructive criticism!!

#tickle fic #tickle fanfiction #sfw tickles #sfw tickling #sfw tickling community #tickling community #tickle community #tword community #ninjago tickle #ninjago tickles #ninjago tickling #lee!jay #lee!cole #ler!jay #ler!cole #AGUDSHGYUJBHSHUIDD MY FIRST FIC #yall. this one was sitting in my docs for SO LONG #had to wipe off the dust every time i got the motivation to write :SOB: #but it's finally done and i'm so excited to share it #i do plan to make more tk fics like this #i have a couple ideas >>>:3 #should i make a fic tag now #nah i'll do it once i have more than one #otherwise it feels cringe </3

[theticklepitchannel]

Surprise 😈😈😈

#tickle art #tickle fic #tickle tickle #tickleme #laughter #tickle fanart #tickle fanfiction #tickle fantasy #tickle fluff #laugh #laughing #tickle tools #armptis #having fun #nonstop #tieup #tickle content #tickle fight #enjoy #im stuck #tickle prompts #tickle post #tickle punishment #tickle challenge #tickle video #tickle me please #tickle session #tickle spots

[coy-lee]

Cheater, Cheater

@afloofwithmultipleinterests and I had a mIGHTY NEEEED.

And someone in my ask box stirred it up lol. You know who you are >:3

Anyway, there was a need to write some muy fluffy content involving a jester and a spambot. So if you're into that kind of content, stop on by and take a look.

Description: Spamton and Jevil do battle quite often. Spamton feels like Jevil is hiding the secret to freedom in that cell of his. Jevil knows better than that and would rather keep Spamton from finding out the no such secret exists. So, they duke it out, both wanting to win for their own reasons. This time, though, Jevil is a bit worried about how good Spamton has gotten at fighting him...so he takes the battle in a different direction. A very fun direction.

Cheater, Cheater

He was back at the gate. He'd have to beat him eventually, right? Right! He'd have to... He had to. Spamton didn't need the key. Due to his broken nature, he could glitch right through the invisible door and straight into the void Jevil called home. He never knew what to expect when entering the jester's domain. The decor changed quite often, although it was always themed around the circus.

The stairwell above echoed with the sound of Spamton's heels tapping against the hard floor as he walked near the bars. The inside was just as dark as always, making chills go down Spamton's spine. He couldn't chicken out now no matter what. Before Spamton could glitch through the door, the imp materialized himself from the shadows, bells jingling behind him. 

"BOO HOO, BOO HOO, UEE HEE HEE! SO LONELY, SO LONELY I BE.. BUT LO, THREE VISI-" Jevil paused as he recognized Spamton almost instantly. "OH- ITS NOT A RESET, RESET! WHAT A WONDERFUL SURPRIZE!" The jester exclaimed in an illusionary tone of jubilation. "OH COME OUT, COME OUT! LET YOURSELF OUTSIDE, SPAMMY! WHAT FUN WE'LL HAVE, HAVE!"

Spamton groaned, already tired of the clown's antics. A small door appeared within the wall of bars before him. Jevil seemingly created it as a gag. Spamton walked through the door, only to step into a clown-themed tea room, but instead of there being a teapot, a gallon of carbonated 'Clown-Juice' sat in the middle of the table. There were various other jester themed decorations around the room, some that made sense... and some that didn't. Jevil proceeded to turn the chairs around, their backs against the table. 

"HERE! I EVEN PUSHED UP YOUR SEAT FOR YA!"

 The imp sat down in one of the chairs, holding up a spades teacup and slurping his drink as loudly as he could. 

"I'M NOT A [[kids 6 and under]]! AND YOU'RE [[insane deal]] IF Y OU THINK I'LL [[one big gulp!]] ANY 0F TH4T [[WHOOPY JUICE!!!]]" Spamton shouted, trying to establish some ounce of dominance in the clown's realm. He had been here many times before. Even though it wasn't his pocket of unreality, Spamton was now quite familiar with the place... or at least used to expecting the unexpected.  "Y0U KNOW DAMN WELL WHY I [[cruising around town]] DOWN HERE AND 1T ISN'T FOR A [[dinner for two]]."

Jevil went oddly quiet, however his smile widened. The table disappeared, and Jevil began to chug from the teacup he had in his gloved hand. After he was done he tossed the glass behind him, and it exploded similarly to how a certain prissy and popular queen's glass would back in Spamton's dark world. 

"ENLIGHTEN ME, ENLIGHTEN ME!" Jevil started, a smirk replacing his usual cold smile. "IS IT TO PLAY A CARD GAME? OH! OR A GAME OF TAG? OR- OH! I KNOW! YOU WANNA TELL JOKES, JOKES!? OH I LOVE JOKES, AND LAUGHING! I BET IT'S BEEN AWHILE SINCE YOU'VE LAUGHED, RIGHT?" Jevil's word vomit was soon cut off by Spamton who was taken aback by that last query.

"I'LL HAVE YO U KNOW THAT I [[unintelligible laughter]] PLENTY, ESPECIALLY AFTER I [[GAME OVER]] YOU [[juggalo]]!" Spamton countered, gritting his teeth. Admittedly, he was starting to feel the adrenaline rush and the nervousness right behind it. He wouldn't lose again. He WOULDN'T, but doubt was fluttering in his stomach. He could never tell what was going on in Jevil's mind. As an Addison, Spamton was used to predicting people's habits, wants and needs, but Jevil was a severe outlier, and that drove the salesman nuts.

"UEE HEE HEE!" His laugh was hollow, but imitated glee. "SO ITS THE OLD NUMBER'S GAME YOU WANT!" The clown tapped a gloved finger to his chin a moment in genuine thought, before snapping his tail similarly to fingers. He smiled widely at Spamton, his eyes sparkling with an unknown intent. "IF YOU INSIST... I'LL PLAY THAT GAME! BUT I WONT GO EASY ON YOU PINNOCHIO, CHIO~" 

Jevil turned Into his devilsknive, cracking the ground open to where he and Spamton would fall through into the endless void of space. It was the perfect place to battle... an empty canvas of freedom.

"AAYEGUFFFAH! [[$!?!]] WOULD IT [[killed]] YOU TO M4KE IT A SOFTER LANDING? [[JIMINY CHRISTMAS]]" Spamton exclaimed as he slowly got up, rubbing his bottom to relieve the pain from the sudden fall. He quickly shook it off. He had a fight to win. He couldn't let a little surprise like that throw him off. That was Jevil's whole shtick. Surprises. He huffed, getting himself ready for anything.

"BETTER BE QUICK ON YOUR TOES, TOES!" Jevil teased before healing Spamton up with magic for a fairly unfair battle, touching his shoulder to transfer the magic to his HP. "WHO KNOWS, KNOWS... MAYBE YOU'LL OUTSMART ME FOR A CHANGE!" Jevil vaguely encouraged, making spamton feel a little more hopeful... for only a few seconds. "EMPHASIS ON MAYBE." The puppet would scowl at the Imp if he could. Jevil disappeared, reappearing way across from Spamton, dancing and putting on a stage show for the lone audience member. "YOU CAN HAVE THE FIRST MOVE, MOVE!"

"OOOOH NONONO. I'M NOT F4LLING FOR   THAT [[tips and tricks]]. IF I GO FIRST YOU'LL [[uno reverse]] ME. [[Ladies first]], I INSIST," Spamton replied with a devilish grin of his own.

"OKIE DOKIE~ IF YOU INSIST THAT YOU INSIST!" Jevil shrugged, summoning his cliche card-deck bullets, shooting them in various patterns at Spamton, the puppet dodging them effortlessly by jumping, and defying gravity. He had gotten better since the last thousand attempts at trying to beat Jevil... To say the least, the imp was impressed. However, Jevil couldn't let that puppet find out the truth.  That's honestly what made the clown refuse to let Spamton win... It was the puppet's motivation that scared the jester. That was why Jevil needed to win no matter what, or else... Spamton would lose that spark he himself lost so long ago.

The carousel appeared, however it was a bit different. The top and lower border were see-sawing while it spun around, and around. Jevil shot his arms out straight in a T-Pose, summoning various rocking animals with his chaotic magic as they followed along to the beat of the carousel. ... However, despite that fact, Spamton was keeping up, and only got hit once. This was making Jevil kind of nervous..

The nervousness Spamton was feeling before began to wane as he was off to the best start he'd ever had. The carousel was one of the more difficult moves for Spamton to dodge, so this success was a promising sign. So long as Jevil stayed on his script of magical acts, the puppet had a chance.

"IS THAT THE [[Best in the business!]] 

Y OU'VE GOT, [[FOOL]]!? AHEAHEAHEA!" Spamton summoned a phone and spun it in the air like a lasso before flinging it directly at Jevil. The jester shot up into the air to avoid the attack only for the ringing coming from the phone to echo and bounce around the invisible box they were battling in. Jevil danced around most of the sound waves, only being nicked by one.

The carousel started to slow back to its original pace, but kept seesawing. Perhaps Jevil would have to up his game!

 "FAR FROM IT PIKACHU, I'M JUST GETTIN' STARTED, STARTED! METAMORPHOSIS!" The clown transformed into his weapon form, boomeranging around spamton, and lunging at him every 8th of a second. After a few throuple hits, spamton caught onto the pattern, and used mini-spams as deflections to catapult the attention away from himself. Jevil growled a little in frustration as tiny baby Spamtons jumped in his way as he tried to hit Spamton. His smile, however, never left his face.

"YOU FORGET I HAVE [[the boys]] WITH ME AT ALL TIMES? SPEAKING OF WHICH, HOW ABOUT WE PLAY [[DODGE PIPIS!]]" Spamton exclaimed, hurling pipis after pipis at the jester like they were snowballs... Explosive snowballs!

Jevil had just changed back into his normal form when spamton attacked, catching the jester off guard. "OH SEAM IN THE ANGEL'S HEAVEN-" Jevil got hit by three, which knocked his head off his block, springing up and down on his coiled spring neck. If Spamton could use decoys, so could he! Jevil sped up, admittedly tiring him out more than he liked. He went so fast, duplicates of himself were summoned, and it was hard for Spamton to pinpoint a target. ... Jevil had to think of something QUICK, Or else.. that last speck of hope in spamton may die. Wait... he knew! Jevil just needed an opportunity to escape this blue egg barrage... 

"ALTHOUGH A BIT EGGS-TREME, YOUR MOVE IS QUITE A BLAST!"

"..."

Spamton stopped in the middle of a throw, his brain processing what he just heard. Dial-up sounds took over his speech while his glasses blue-screened temporarily. After a moment, he shook his head like a dog, coming back to reality... and he let out the biggest most tortured groan.

"UUUUUUUUHHHHG... THOSE PUNS WERE   SO [[rotten to the core]] I THINK I'M GONNA THROW UP! @c@" Spamton grimaced, glaring at the clown grinning back at him, proud as can be.

As expected, Spamton recoiled his attacks to revive from that hard, mental blow of awful punnery. Jevil teleported away from his spot, into the void, plotting a sneak attack Spamton would never expect out of the likes of him... at least not one in the midst of battle. After the doll was done cringing, he was about to dodge jevil's attack... when he noticed the imp was no longer there. Now THAT wasn't fair!

"HEY WISE GUY! WHAT'S THE BIG [[deal!]] HIDING IS [[cheater cheater pumpkin eater!]]" 

Silence. Complete and utter silence... until he felt two gloves vibrate into his sides, startling him. He spun around, only to see nobody there.

"AYEE! H-HEY! F4CE   ME LIKE A [[valued customer]]!" Spamton shouted, his voice cracking as he was surprised by the sudden assault to his sides. He did a decent job of keeping his composure. Now he needed to stay vigilant. That clown could be anywhere.

"FACE YA LIKE A VALUED CUSTOMER, CUSTOMER?" Jevil giggled, appearing behind him again, however this time the gloves were off. The devil poked slowly up, and down the glitch's ribs. "LAST TIME I CHECKED IT WAS OPPOSITE DAY IN THE DARK WORLDS, WORLDS! IM THE SALESMAN, AND YOU'RE THE CUSTOMER! CAN YOU GUESS WHAT I'M SELLIN~?" 

A mischievous smile stretched across the joker's features. Spamton wiggled, his hands shooting down to grab Jevil's fingers, but he had already disappeared again.

"GYA!TYEEHEEHE- [[$!?!]] THE PRESSES! W-WHAT ARE YOU    DOING!?" the puppet demanded, wide eyed and looking in every direction to locate the culprit. "Y OU'RE NOT PLAYING [[fair share]], CLOWN!"

"I'M NOT PLAYIN FAIR, FAIR?" The jester's voice echoed against the void. The joker in question  chuckled from the darkness at this new game that would surely tire this puppet out. "WELL THERE'S NOTHING IN THE RULES AGAINST A LITTLE..." Jevil now appeared in front of him, a devious grin spread across his cheeks,"GIGGLY, GIGGLY, TICKLE, TICKLE NOW AND THEN~ BELIEVE ME, I DOUBLE CHECKED AND IT'S COMPLETELY LEGAL!" Jevil wiggled his eight fingers at Spamton, dull claws catching the dealmaker's attention. He jumped back, tripping a little bit before putting his hand up in defense as Jevil floated closer with that playfully evil stare.

"W-W-WAIT! HOLD 0N! Y-Y-YOU THINK THAT [[silly billy]] MOVE WILL WORK ON [[number1ratedsalesman1997]]? HA! TOO BAD FOR Y OU! I'M NOT [[tickles your fancy]]," Spamton retorted, squaring up, crossing his arms defiantly, and standing his ground. He knew Jevil wouldn't buy what he was selling, but he had to try. Unfortunately, though he was a good actor, the sudden rosiness of his cheeks called his bluff.

"OH... YOU AREN'T?" Jevil pretended to look convinced, before shrugging. "WELL... GUESS I WAS WRONG! I KNOW YOU'RE AN HONEST, HONEST SALESMAN. HMPH...  FIGURES... GUESS ILL HAVE TO JUST USE MY SPECIAL ATTACK, ATTACK!" Jevil shrugged, sounding disappointed... Did Spamton's lie actually work!? YES!!! THAT HAD NEVER WORKED! It hadn't worked on any Addison that had asked him, or even Seam! But somehow it worked on JEVIL!? Spamton thought he would see through that scam! Jevil really was a fool... 

"WHAT A [[sham]]. GUESS IT'LL HAVE TO DO! IM SURE I CAN HANDLE [[Specil move]]."

"YOU SUUUUURE...? IT'S PRETTY HARD TO DODGE!" Jevil smirked, summoning Spamton's own smirk.

"AH! SHOWING YOUR HAND, HUH? WELL Y OUR [[light shower]] OF SCYTHES IS IMPRESSIVE, BUT NOT SPECIL ENOUGH T0 DEFEAT ME," the salesman replied cheekily. His blush receded as his confidence grew once more. He could handle this. Jevil's special attack was always that giant scythe move.

" LET'S GET THIS [[show on the road]]. THEN I'LL SHOW YOU A RE4L ATTACK!" Spamton taunted.

"WE'LL SEE SPAMTON, SPAMTON!" Jevil flew back over in position before metamorphosing into a scythe, and shooting up towards the ceiling. One scythe fell down, then another and another and another... Spamton knew the rhythm of this attack, becoming a pro at dodging the basic attacks Jevil would usually give the player. 

After all the scythes fell, it left the giant undodgeable one to slowly fall. Spamton braced for impact, raising his arms above his head to protect his plastic noggin upon impact... but it never came. He opened a single eye to see two clawed hands hovering above his underarms, but he was too late to correct his fatal mistake. Jevil touched down, scribbling, and drawing shapes with his nails across the cloth of the salesman's jacket, which was surprisingly thinner than spamton had remembered. 

He tried to fight it, but he couldn't hold in what he didn't expect to come out!

"AYEEEEAHEAHEAHEAHEA! TH-THAHAHAT'S NOT HOHOHOW THIS WOR-GYYYAaAaAaA!" Spamton squealed out, clamping his arms down, knees buckling immediately. He was falling backwards into Jevil's hold due to his weak knees. The puppet took a deep breath to spit out the last coherent sentence he would be saying for a while.

"PLEASE-JEVIL-YOU-DON'T-HAVE-T0-DO-THIS-WE'RE-FRIENDS-R1GHT-PAL-I'LL-GIVE-Y0U-BEST-DEALS-4-LIFE-I-SWEAR!!!"

"JEVIL, JEVIL!?" Jevil paused as soon as he heard his name. His ACTUAL name... Spamton had never said his actual name before! "YOU CALLED ME JEVIL!!" Overjoyed, he squeezed Spamton in a rib cracking hug.

"AG-G-G-GYUH-Y-YOUR EARS MUST BE [[out of batteries]]! I-UHG- NEVER SAID [[legal name]]!" Spamton wheezed out, wiggling to free himself from Jevil's crushing grip.

Jevil loosened his hug a bit, however not enough to let Spamton out of his grasp. "HMMM... YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU'RE RIGHT! I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING BECAUSE OF HOW HARD YOU'RE LAUGHING!"

"WH-" Jevil started tickling again, one arm around Spamton's chest, raising his undershirt up, and the other hand trailing around the doll's stomach. 

"COOOOCHIE COOCHIE COO LITTLE SALESMAN~ ARE YOU TICKLISH, TICKLISH HERE HM? I THINK I CAN HEAR YOU GIGGLING, GIGGLING! I'M TOO DEAF TO HEAR REALLY ANYTHING, SO I'M NOT TOO SURE~!" Jevil noticed a little X where Spamton's bellybutton was supposed to be. He stored that information for much later in his playfully evil onslaught.

"STYAHAHAHAHEAHEAHEAHEA![[HOLY TOLEDO]] NYEAHEAHEAHEAHEAHEA!" Spamton cackled, squirming and kicking aimlessly in the clutches of the clown. He tried to grab at the offending hand exploring his sensitive belly.

Jevil pretended to just now notice his tail was plugging his ears. "OHHHH... THERE WAS THE PROBLEM! NOW I CAN HEAR YOU JUUUUST FINE! UHEHEHEHEEE... SUCH A TICKLISH LITTLE TUM-TUM, HM? GEEZ, I DUNNO HOW YOU CAN STAND IT, NO WAY I'D LAST! TIIIICKLE TICKLE TICKLE, TIIIICKLE~ KITCHY KIIITCH~"

"OHOHO MYHYHYHY GOHOHOHOHOD! SHUHUHUHUT YOUR [[PIE HOLE]] YOU- AYEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEE!" the puppet cried out. The tickling was already making him lose all control, and that was embarrassing enough, but the teasing? Jevil was going to kill him with all that sickeningly sweet baby talk. You could hardly make out Spamton's red cheeks due to how red the rest of his face was. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide from his adversary, but he wasn't in a position to do that. All he could do was flail and squeal... But the part that truly made the salesman want to hide was the fact that... he didn't hate this... At all. 

BUT HIS WORST ENEMY COULD NEVER KNOW THAT SO-

"THIHIHIHIHIHIS IHIHIHIHIS [[AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION]] YOHOHOHOHOU ANIMAHAHAL!"

"A WAR CRIME? KEHEHE~" Jevil stopped, letting Spamton catch his breath. The puppet relaxed, his giggling mixed in with static as he panted. "SMILING DURING A WARCRIME DOESN'T SEEM VERY ORDERLY... THEN AGAIN I WOULDN'T KNOW ABOUT ORDER, ORDER! UEE HEE EHEE~ I THINK YOU ENJOY, ENJOY THIS, DON'T YOU SPAM-MAN?" Jevil questioned, a rare, genuine smile coming out.

"W-W-WHAT!? N-N-NO!!! THAT'S [[Crazy bread]]! I'M A PROFESSIONAL! I'M A [[BIGSHOT]]! BIGSHOTS DON'T-

DON'T -

DON'T -

DON'T -" 

Spamton glitched, his glasses blue screening again. His entire face to the tip of his nose was bright red, steam puffed out from the sides of his head, and a car horn beeped, the sound coming from Spamton's agape mouth.

Jevil chortled a bit, letting his battle buddy let the embarrassment out of his system. "DON'T WHAT? DON'T HAVE FUN, FUN? WHAT'S WRONG WITH A LITTLE GIGGLE EVERY NOW AND THEN, HM?" Jevil questioned out of curiosity, and assurance. "ITS OKAY TO BE GOOFY AND FEEL GOOFY EVERY NOW AND AGAIN, AGAIN! DON'T YOU THINK SO?" Jevil poked just a single digit on Spamton's side just above his hip, feather light to just get giggles out of the salesman.

"GyeYEEhehehehe NOHOHOhoho!" Spamton laughed, shaking his head and trying to hide his face with his hands. He was no longer trying to stop Jevil's hands, now focusing on covering his red hot cheeks. "J-JEVIL IHEEHEEHeehee CAHAHAHAN'T!" He jerked away from the prodding finger and was able to rock forward, still breathless with giggles as he weakly attempted to crawl away.

Jevil giggled sinisterly, floating after spamton before grabbing both of his ankles. "GYEHEHE~? NYOHO YOU CAN'T? TELL ME STOP AND MAYBE I'LL BELIEVE YOU~!"  Spamton fell on his padded tum as the devil pulled his legs out straight and sat on the back of his knees, hovering those ungloved claws above spamton's shoed tootsies. "UNTIL THEN, I GUESS ILL HAVE FUN WITH AN ENSY WEENSIE SPOT YOU DECIDED TO LEAVE OPEN~" Jevil playfully reminded, before slipping off both of those flat heeled leather shoes the salesman always wore. With no money to afford socks for those old shoes he found in the trash, Spamton's plush little feet were now completely exposed. 

oh. NO.

"W-W-WAIT! TH-THAHAHAT'S EVIL!" Spamton's eyes widened to the size of saucers when he felt himself get pinned under the jester's weight. "THOSE ARE [[fine Italian leather]] YOU [[little sponge]]!" A wobbly smile stretched across the peddler's face just from the threat alone. He curled up his toes, trying to get ready for what was to come.

"REALLY!? I THOUGHT THESE WERE PLEATHER!" Jevil teased, tracing two nails down  tiny feet, the delicate jointed toes scrunching up in response. Spamton snorted, trying to cover his mouth to hide his giggles and high pitched squeals. He only uncovered it to speak. "IHIT'S UHUP TO PLAHAHAYER INTERPRETAHATION!!" His puppet hands slammed back over his teeth, one trying to keep his bottom jaw closed and the other attempting to block the puppet mouth gap.

And with that.. another finger joined on both feet, now swirling and wiggling. 

"OHO... IT ISNT HEALTHY TO HOLD BACK YOUR LAUGHTER SPAMTON! LET IT AAAALL OUT. KEHEHEE~"

"NNN-NNNGYKHKHKHK... MMM-PFFFFFTAHAHEAHEAHEAHEA!" Spamton finally burst out into hysterics. He was slapping the floor, trying to find relief from the sensations plaguing his tiny feetsies.

"OH MY FOX! SEE? ARENT YOU HAVING FUN? YOU SEEM TO BE ENJOYING YOURSELF! UEEHEHEHEE~" Jevil teased, ever so gently raking his nails over every inch of the doll's feet, including under and between those lil' toesies! "WE SHOULD BATTLE LIKE THIS MORE OFTEN! THIS KIND OF GAME IS SO MUCH MORE FUN THAN THAT OLD NUMBERS GAME!'' Jevil turned around slightly, seeing the jolly old puppet snorting, and thumping his fists on the ground. Snickering, the joker pulled away, turning around to face him, still on seated Spamton's knees. The imp temporarily stood to gently maneuver spamton facing up so the puppet could catch his breath easier. 

"YOUHOU OKAY PINOCCHIO?" Jevil asked, giggling a bit at Spamton's expression.

"@c@ I'M -pant- STILL [[breathing the fresh air!]]" the spambot replied, recovering from that last attack. He rubbed his feet together to shoo away those dastardly phantom tickles left behind. "BUT I WILL NOT CONCEDE TO YOUR [[TOMFOOLERY]]. NEVER..."

"NEVER YOU SAY, SAY?" Spamton should NOT have given the jester such a sweet treat of an opening... 

Jevil picked the puppet up under the arms, bringing the salesman onto his lap with a previous idea brewing to the forefront of his mind.

"PERHAPS THE RIGHT SPOT WOULD CHANGE YOUR MIND~" Jevil smirked, pulling Spamton's shirt back up from before revealing his plush tum, booping a side just barely with the pad of his finger, keeping his claws to himself for the time being.

"EEHEEHEEP! R-RIGHT SPOT? N-NO THERE ARE NOT MORE [[spot remover]] I SWEAR. Y-YOU'RE WASTING YOUR [[time sensitive offer]]..." Spamton rushed out. He giggled nervously and gave Jevil a pleading look... but he still never said the magic word. Instead, the salesman grabbed onto the jester's hands, holding them away from his body.

"NO MORE SPOTS? OH NO, NO, NO! I THINK YOU'VE FORGOTTEN, FORGOTTEN A FEW MISTER~!" Jevil giggled gently pushing Spamton's arms back, the salesman's arms still jelly after the prior attacks. "LIKE THESE TWO HIPS!" Jevil kneaded his thumbs into the joints, just barely skimming the doll's sides with his claws.  Spamton flailed, kicking those little legs of his faster than a roadrunner. 

"HAAEHAHEHEEHEA!! [[Fifty percent off!]] JEHEH-SNORT! [[Ha ha ha!]]AHAAH-" 

"OOOOOORRRR..." Jevil crawled his hands to Spamton's sides and started to tickle that stuffed tum of his! "THIS LITTLE SWEET SPOT RIGHT HERE, HERE!"

"GYAAAHAEHEAHEAHEAHEA! NAHAHAT THE [[tummy wummy]]! AYEEHEEHEEHEE!" The spambot was lightly slapping at Jevil's chest as he squirmed fruitlessly. "YOHOHOURE THE DEHEHEVIL!"

"NOT THE TUMMY WUMMY? AW! BUT YOU SOUND LIKE YOU LOVE, LOVE THIS ON YOUR TUMMY WUMMY!" Jevil cooed, slowing the tickles down to be gentle. "DEVIL IS IN MY NAME! DON'T WEAR IT OUT~ OH! SPEAKING OF BEING EVIL,"  Jevil trailed off, drawing a single swirling finger around the canvas of spamton's belly, slithering around his middle in circles like a snake. "I WANNA SEE WHAT KIND OF GIGGLY TREASURE I CAN GET FROM THAT X!"

"NONONOHOHOHO! THAT [[parking spot]] IS [[out of commission]]! D-DOHOHON'T Y OU DAHAHAHARE!" Spamton squealed in protest. He immediately slapped his hands over his belly button to guard it from the devious clown.

"WELL THATS NOT VERY NICE!" Jevil teased, a challenging grin stretching onto his face... did Spamton really think he would only use his hands to tickle him to snorts? "GUESS WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO DO THIS THE HARD WAY... SAY, SPAMTON," the imp stretched his tail around and bent the tips of the J to tuck under the dummy's arms.  "I DON'T RECALL, BUT IS THIS A TERRIBLY, TERRIBLY SENSITIVE AREA~? COOOCHIE COOCHIE COOO LITTLE ADDISON~"

"NYAHAEHAEHAEHAEHAE! YOHOHOU [[$!?!]]!" That clever move by Jevil did the trick. Spamton immediately clamped his arms down, bringing his fists up to his chest. "STYAHAHAP TEASING MEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!"

"DO YOU NOT LIKE BEING TEASED TO BITS, SPAMMY? ALSO, IF YOU WANT TO KEEP MY TAIL UNDER YOUR ARMS, BE MY GUEST! OTHERWISE, OTHERWISE YOU CAN RAISE THEM UP AND TRY YOUR LUCK! UEEHEEHEE!'' While explaining this in a playful tone, Jevil went back to swirling around the little belly pudge, getting closer and closer to the spot of buried belly laughs.

"AHEAHAEHAEHAEHAE! YOU'RE GOHOHONNAHAHA [[killed]] MEEEEHEEHEE! SNORT!" the salesman cackled, hardly able to focus enough to make any comebacks. He was losing his mind, but he wasn't ready to surrender to this fiend.

Jevil etched closer... and closer... until finally he swirled right onto the little X, before stopping entirely. Everything stopped in place, the movement under his arms, the swirling, all that was on focus was the finger sitting still on the little stitch. Jevil gave Spamton a cat-like look of mischief, not doing anything but waiting out the inevitable. "YOU KNOW WHAT? LET'S STAY LIKE THIS A MOMENT, MOMENT! YOU ENJOYIN' YOURSELF? I KNOW A GENUINE SMILE WHEN I SEE ONE~" In actuality.. Jevil was planning his ultra tickle attack in the back of his mind during this one-sided conversation before finally unleashing the mother of all tickles.

"I-pant- [[dont trust like that]]... YOU... -pant- YOUR TEASING ME AGAIN! I-pant- I ADMIT TO NOTHING!" Spamton said defiantly. Maybe he could tough it out…

"DON'T TRUST ME? WHY SPAMMY! WHAT HAVE I DONE FOR YOU NOT TO TRUST ME?!" the joker questioned, feigning innocence. Spamton knew better than to trust a literal Jester devil after tickling him half to death when they were having a fair and square battle just before! Whatever happened to that anyway!? This wasn't fair at all! Spamton was getting tired. The look the doll gave Jevil after saying that said it all.

"AW... SPAMTON, I'M HURT! HEARTBROKEN, SHOT IN THE CHEST!" Jevil overdramatized, cocking an arm over his forehead, Spamton not seeming to notice both hands were off his belly. The puppet slowly but surely caught his breath as Jevil did his theatrics, all the while giving the purple imp a look of suspicion. After a moment, Jevil smirked, bringing a single arm around Spamton's ribs in a gentle hug to keep him still. "WELL, I THINK YOU DESERVE A PRESENT FOR BEIN SUCH A GOOD SPORT, AND HAVING AN ADORABLE LIL LAUGH!"

"I-I-I-I [[shut your yaps]]! WHAT ARE Y 0U PLANNING JEVIL?" the doll inquired suspiciously, his cheeks flushed from the embarrassing compliment on top.

"I DUNNO, DUNNO! I THINK IM PLANNING ON GIVING YOU A PRESENT FOR BEING A SNORTY, FLUFFY LITTLE GIGGLEBUG!" Jevil replied, his smirk unhindered. He leaned down just a little bit, trying to be inconspicuous.

"I-I'M NOT [[soft and fluffy]]! AND DON'T CALL ME A... [[ERROR 404]]!" Spamton squeaked in response, not wanting to repeat the new nickname. He didn't know what was going through that clown's mind, but he knew it was a grand finale. That look in Jevil's eyes said it all.

The look on Spamton's face read that the jig was up. With that, Jevil suddenly shifted his face downward towards the tummy before him, giggling a little before starting to ticklishly nom on the sensitive belly with those teefers of his! "OMNYomNYOMNOM~! I KNOWM YOUWH LOWVE WHEM SHAWM DIB DISH! OMNYOMMONCHCROMCHMOOMCH!" the devil teased playfully before bringing one claw down to tease a side while nomming away like a cat on a ball of yarn.

"AAAAHAHAHAHAHAEHAEHAEHAE! OHOHO [H E A V E N] IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN'T! ICANTTAKEIT!" Spammy shrieked, shaking his head and pushing weakly at the little devil's shoulders. Tears of mirth were streaming down his rosy cheeks, and his glasses slid off his face and toppled to the side. He tossed his head back and curled forward over and over again, not knowing what to do. After 30 seconds or so, he broke.

"OHOHOHOKAAAAYEEEEHEEHEEHEE! Y 0U [[W1NNER]]! PLEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEE-SNORT-EEHEEHEASE! MEHEHERCYEEEEEHEEHEEE!"

As soon as the word was given, Jevil retracted his tail, and rose up from Spamton's tummy, letting the puppet recover from that final attack that left him breathless.

"AH... HAEHAE... HEHE... HEH... Ahhhh..." The puppet let the residual giggles bubble out of his throat while he breathed. He closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion take over. Spamton was waiting for Jevil to declare victory and kick him to the curb, back to his dumpster like the clown always did... But... He opened one of his eyes to see Jevil hovering with his legs crisscross, sitting on his tail, a genuine smile taking over his features.

"....SO?" The salesman asked, sitting up slightly to look the joker in the eye. 

"SO WHAT, WHAT?" the jester replied while leaning on two fists curiously.

"AREN'T YOU GOING TO [[dispose of any used needles!]]?"

Jevil's eyes widened in realization, before his face softened into an unnaturally gentle expression. 

"YOU CAN STAY HERE AS LONG AS YOU NEED, NEED! YOU DID JUST LAUGH YOUR STUFFING OUT AND ALL, "  Jevil explained, magically pulling a blanket out from behind his back and tossing it to Spamton, who caught it out of surprise. The salesman really didn't know what to think of all of this... The clown had never been nice to him like this. The other boss-darkner tended to be cold behind that mischievous, playful look in his eyes... He was that one step away from freedom, blocking his only escape to the real world.. HEAVEN. ... but never had Jevil acted like this before... It almost reminded him of a family he lost long ago.

The doll looked down at the blanket in his lap. Then up at the clown.

"I... um... thank you..." Spamton was shocked enough to lose the glitches that stole his speech for just a moment.  A sudden "POOF" from under his butt and a cushiony feeling alerted him to the cat bed he was now sitting in. He tried to take offense to that, but he couldn't. Instead he took the opportunity to get some sleep in a real bed...first time in a long time. He curled up, snuggled in the blanket. The salesman drifted off to sleep quickly, having not been this comfortable in so long.

Jevil hummed in content. He needed this. They both did. They were both being tortured endlessly by the game they lived in ... and them fighting all the time was tiring. In this moment they both realized how stupid it was, the endless fighting. They both understood what it was like to be thrown away, not only by society, but by the game itself. If anything they should be allies... No... friends.

Of all the things to make them see that... It was this particular fight. Jevil giggled at the prospect that something so silly may have just permanently changed how the two misfits saw each other.

And that was a wonderful thing.

#lee!spamton #spamton lee spamton #ler!jevil #deltarune tickles #tickle fanfiction #ticklish!spamton #Ohmygoshthiswassomuchfun #I needed this severely #deltarune fluff #FLUUUUUFF #[[no Spamtons were harmed in the making of this fic]] #OH LOOK THEY MADE A FIC OF US US #W-WAIT WHY DID I HAVE TO BE THE [[sacrifice]] IN THIS [[Best selling novel]]!? #CUZ I GOTS MORE LER ENERGY THAT YOU YOU #UEEHEEHEE #I RESENT TH4T [[5 pounds of balogna]] STATEMENT #Man we have to do this again... Vengeance perhaps??? #Yeeeeees >:3

[mimimunson]

Turning Tables (Steddie) / fic

Blurb- Lee!Steve Harrington is in a mischievous mood and makes a shocking discovery about his boyfriend (Ler!Eddie Munson) whilst hatching a plan to get what he wants. This IS a tickle fic, if that isn’t your thing feel free to ignore!!

CW- tickling, manhandling, dominance.

"Hm, but Eddie I thought you weren't ticklish?" Steve gasped but somehow was also embarrassed by his own words.

“I- I didn’t know! Honestly!” Eddie shook his head, surprised to even hear that word come out of his boyfriend’s mouth. Merely a month ago Steve had come clean about his little secret. He liked being tickled, he just enjoyed the playful aspect, the closeness and he especially liked laughing. Eddie was immediately very willing to indulge him in whatever he wanted, because quite frankly it was the cutest thing he’d ever heard come from that boys lips.

“But now I know and I don’t know if I can be trusted with that information Eds. I mean how many times have you pinned me down and tormented me this week.” He smirked, a playfully evil smirk.

“That’s different! You like when I tickle you! You get all bashful and you know I think it’s adorable. I can’t help myself.” Eddie teased, hoping that flustering his boyfriend would get him out of this predicament.

“Don’t you try and turn the tables sir, just let me see if you’re as bad as I am?” He said with crimson cheeks.

Eddie chuckled immediately noticing that Steve couldn’t bring himself to say ticklish again.

“As bad as you are? Never. But I do think you mean ticklish, not bad.”

He pointed down at Eddie as a warning, before scurrying his finger tips along his waistline once more. Eddie rolled his eyes at how eager Steve seemed to tickle him, he honestly didn’t mind, if it meant he could see his boyfriend smiling and bathe in his victory that they both knew wasn’t real, just an act of brattiness.

“You having fun there sweetheart?” Eddie managed to keep composure, it was a weird situation to be in. Being tickled when you don’t actually know where you’re ticklish, knowing any moment he could poke at a weak spot and you’d be none the wiser until you felt it.

“The most fun actually, what about here?” Steve spidered his nails up and across his ribs, once seeing the instantaneous hitch in his breath.

“Hey- princess! I know you’re having fun and all but this is- this is really something” Eddie let out a squeal sound, shut his eyes tight praying that Steve didn’t notice. “Did you just squeal Eddie Munson?”

Steve erupted into giggles and before he knew it he was manhandled. Grabbed by his hips and placed down on his back by a metal head with an evil look in his eye.

Still laughing from the sensation Eddie said “you know that was fun and all, but I know this is your favourite position to be in isn’t it baby? You have fun riling me up eh? You just wanted this, isn’t that so? If you wanted this so badly, you should have just asked me because now. Now it’s gonna be 10 times worse for you pretty boy.”

Steve smiled a sickly sweet innocent smile, his plan had worked.

#okay yes I’m flustered by my own damn fic don’t look at me #I wrote this out of boredom I do apologise I haven’t put too much effort into this in all honesty #steddie #steddie tickle fic #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things tickle fic #mine #steddie one shot #established steddie #steddie au #steddie imagine #Lee!steve #Ler!eddie #dom!eddie #sub!steve #steddie fluff #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tickle fanfiction #modern steve harrington #modern eddie munson #steve harrington au #eddie munson au #bi steve harrington #bi eddie munson #established steddie fic #steddie fluff fic #steddie fic #fic

[d1strxct]

Nights Like These

Hanzo Shimada x Reader

It was nights like these that brought pure bliss into your life and kept your heart lively. The sound of steady breathing and the feeling of calloused hands softly rubbing up and down your back made you melt. There was nothing you loved more than cuddling with your boyfriend, Hanzo Shimada.

Your face was snuggled deep into his neck and you let out a content sigh. Closing your eyes, you thought of how you managed to get so lucky. There was so much said between the two of you even if words weren’t spoken. Your souls intertwined together and created a perfect little bow, making the two of you a perfect match.

The moonlight came in through the window and illuminated the dimly lit room, save for the small lamp on the nightstand beside the bed. The scent of Hanzo filled your nose and brought a comforting aura over you. Moments like these were the ones you wish you could live in forever, and Hanzo felt the same way.

Opening your eyes, you fluttered your eyelashes up to glance up at him. He looked at peace and the smallest of a smile graced his features. Looking at Hanzo was like looking at an angel. His messy hair, his brown orbs that glisten in the light, his tattoos. Everything about him was flawless in your eyes.

With your steady breathing blowing on his neck, there was a slight twitch of movement evident on his face. His smile grew wider and his breath hitched for a second. The hand stroking up and down your back stopped and you internally whined at the lack of touch. You smiled at him and made a move to speak.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to tickle you.” He slowly opened his eyes and stole a glance at you. A quiet hum rumbled deep in his chest and he closed his eyes again, faintly shaking his head. “You didn’t.” You raised your eyebrows at his blatant lie but decided to ignore it. You tucked your head back into his neck and stuck your nose in his collarbone, breathing in his comforting scent. His hand went back to lovingly caressing your back and you sighed.

Once again, Hanzo’s breathing pattern changed and you felt him tense. You grinned into his neck, asking the dreaded question Hanzo knew was coming.

“Are you sure I’m not tickling you?” He tilted his head down at you and huffed. You looked up at him and met his gaze, a tiny grin on your face. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around your body. “Okay, fine, you did.” An idea popped into your mind. Slowly, you batted your eyelashes against the side of his neck. He grunted and moved his head away from you. “I would advise you not to act on it though, or else you’ll rouse the dragon.”

You giggled innocently as Hanzo shifted again so your head was resting on his shoulder. You brought up your arm to lay it on his chest, your hand moving up and down as he breathed. Your fingers traced the tattoos on his pec and he squirmed, coughing as a way to cover up an unwanted chuckle. Stopping your movements, you rolled your eyes and scoffed with a smile.

“Seriously? You’re that ticklish?” He looked away from you and stared off at an empty wall. His silence gave away his answer. Your fingers started up again as you wiggled them against his skin. Hanzo whipped his head back to you and grabbed your wrist. His eyes were fierce with playful mischief and you gave him a toothy grin.

In one swift movement, Hanzo had you lying on top of him with your wrists trapped at your sides. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly and you gasped. “Hey! Let me go!” You tried to squirm out of his grip but it was inevitable. He had you pinned.

“I told you to act against your thoughts. Now, there is no escape.” Your eyes widened and your struggles increased. A crimson blush painted your cheeks and you felt them grow hot. Tilting your head upwards, you saw Hanzo staring at you with an intimidating smirk, his eyes flaming with playfulness. With his arms crossed against your torso, his fingers slowly started crawling up your sides. A squeal left your lips and you fell into small giggles.

The maddening sensation of flutters against your skin sent you into a giggly panic and you squirmed the best you could. You turned your head so it was lying on Hanzo’s chest. From above, you heard his deep chuckle and the rumble of his voice. “H-Hanzo! It tickles!”

As his fingers scribbled on your sides, he hummed. “Good.” His hands moved to the sides of your ribs and he repeatedly poked the bones. Your giggles increased and your voice grew louder. With each prod, you wiggled side to side. Hanzo basked in your laughter like it was the sunshine. Hearing the bubbly squeaks and hiccups always brought him peace. He could listen to it all day.

You continued to giggle loudly while Hanzo continued to tickle your ribs. Your fingers flexed and your hands curled into fists. “P-please! It’s so, hah, bad!” He snickered and slowed the pace of his fingers. You sucked in giggly breaths and breathed out slowly, silently thanking him for the break.

“Are you alright?” Hanzo asked. You nodded and sighed, taking in the warmth of his body. “Yes.” You answered. All of a sudden, his hands were on your back and skillfully wiggled against the lower section of your posterior. You squealed and tried to arch away, but it seemed to be pointless, as you just succeeded in leaning more into his touch.

The feeling of his ghostly fingers drifting over your lower back sent shivers up your spine and you squeaked. Hanzo walked them up your back like a spider and back down, eliciting tiny snickers from deep within your chest. Your body seemed to melt into his and your arms turned into jelly. He repeated this motion for several moments, switching from fast to agonizingly slow. Your reactions were quite endearing to him and he couldn’t get enough of them.

Hanzo never stayed in one spot for too long so you couldn’t get accustomed to the sensations. He changed tactics and his hands strayed to your shoulder blades. Your eyes widened and you shook your head over and over again. “No! Not there!”

“Where? Here?” He asked innocently, prodding your shoulder blade on his last word for emphasis. He knew how bad of a spot this was for you, as you could never sit through one of his back massages. Shrill and high-pitched giggles emerged from your lips and your back tensed. Hanzo stopped his movements for a few seconds before softly kneading into the muscle.

You were instantly sent into booming laughter. You shrieked and squealed and cackled out while doing your best to squirm out of his hold. You pulled at your arms, your head lifting up and landing back down onto his chest repeatedly. Hanzo didn’t say anything, he just looked down at your head and smiled contentedly. How did he manage to get so lucky?

After minutes of his merciless torture on your oh-so-sensitive back, he noticed your laughter had gotten hiccupy and your squirming had slowed. Giving one final prod to your spine, he moved his hands so they rested on the middle of your back. You felt him shift underneath your weight and from the corner of your view, Hanzo was staring lovingly into your eyes. Residual giggles started up as you peeked at him. Watching as his face grew a teasy smile, you blushed and you planted your face into his chest.

Hanzo laughed and rubbed up and down your back soothingly. “Oh, oh my goodness! That was torture, Hanzo!” You had a goofy smile on your face as you turned your head to look at him again. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Don’t be dramatic. That was not even my full potential,” he continued, “I haven’t used my worst weapon yet.”

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion as you listened to the last sentence. Before you could ask what he was talking about, he flipped you onto your back so you were above the mattress. Hanzo crawled on top of you and lied down on your body. You yelped at the sudden movement and grunted.

“Hanzo! Get off me you big dork! You’re crushing me!” Your hands pushed against his shoulders but it was fruitless. You weren’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t either. Hanzo scooted up so his chin was pushed into your neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and breathed out deeply.

His breath sent tickly shudders up your spine and his beard gently scratched against your skin. Your breath hitched in your throat and you moved your head away from his face. It dawned on you what he was doing. Hanzo Shimada was about to end your life with neck tickles. And that stupid scruff of his was the ultimate weapon.

No matter which way you turned your head, his would follow yours and end up right back into the side of your neck. You squealed and fell into a fit of giggles. Hanzo shifted his chin back and forth, rubbing his beard on your sensitive neck. Even his breath tickled you. It was like your body had turned into liquid. Your body sunk into the mattress and your back arched.

Along with grazing his facial hair against your soft skin, he added in a mix of tickly kisses. Your light giggles turned heavy and a snort released from your mouth. Your hands left his shoulders and moved to cover your face. Your face heated up and even Hanzo could feel the warmth radiating off of it. He laughed into your neck, his tickly breath causing you to squeal and recoil.

“Aw. How cute.” He had a teasing lilt to his tone and you groaned through your giggles. “S-shut up!” You muffled out. Although you couldn’t see it, Hanzo had the biggest grin on his face. Suddenly, he got an idea. A truly evil idea. He sucked in a huge breath and blew a raspberry into the crane of your neck. Your hands left your face and grasped onto his head, while yours was thrown back with loud laughter. You tried to push his head away, but he was stronger and continued with his raspberries. There was nothing you could do but lie there and accept your fate.

After several minutes of his torturous neck tickling, he withdrew his head from your neck and rolled off of you. You hastily breathed in air and your chest fell up and down rapidly. Hanzo turned on his side and watched as you recovered with a small grin. When you managed to calm down and steady your breathing, you moved your head to look at him. Hanzo was the first to break the silence.

“I would not recommend trying to tickle me again, or else your fate will be sealed.” He said with a teasing smile. You just laughed and rolled your eyes. “I can’t promise anything.” You made a move to shift towards Hanzo and he grabbed you by your waist, pulling you into his body.

You snuggled up to him and sighed contentedly. A peaceful silence overtook the two of you as you eventually fell asleep in each other's arms. Nights like these were what you always wanted.

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aaaanndddd done. i wrote this is less than 24 hours so i’m sorry if it’s poorly made. i might put out another one sometime soon as i seem to have a lot of motivation to write. but uhh thanks for reading!

#overwatch #overwatch tickling #tickle fic #tickle fanfiction #sfw tickling community #sfw tickling #hanzo shimada #hanzo shimada x reader

[dumbstuffsstuff]

Admit It || Lee!Zhongli || Genshin Impact

Lol I lied guys, I am still hyperfixated on Genshin but I’ve also got new things coming and decided to write a fic just for funsies.

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Zhongli is a very calm and charismatic man. He never gets overly excited, angry, or annoyed. This bothers Childe. How can Zhongli control his temper so well? One day, something manages to really get under the Geo Archon’s skin, and Childe is determined to make Zhongli admit that he’s angry.

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Pairing: Zhongli and Childe

Lee!Zhongli

Ler!Childe

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Zhongli, Rex Lapis, Morax, leader of the Adeptus, the Geo Archon. He goes by many names. Zhongli is a character, that’s for sure. No matter the situation, Zhongli always knows how to stay composed. He never lets anything get to him. He never takes criticism personal.

Most people enjoy this quality in Morax. By most, that means everyone except Zhongli’s (friend? rival? partner?) Childe.

Childe can be the exact opposite compared to Zhongli. While the ginger is normally a playful guy who likes to joke around, he is susceptible to losing his temper quickly. He gets irritated at small things. One of the small things being Zhongli’s ability to avoid annoyance.

It’s especially frustrating at times when Childe finds something to scold Morax about or when they’re arguing, and Zhongli will sip tea and avoid eye contact, all while brushing the redhead off and chuckling at his distress.

That all stands until today.

Childe had decided to stay in the hotel in Liyue for a few days to take some time off. He was stressing lately and needed a break. He lay on the cushioned sofa and tried to read a book to keep himself busy, but he was overall bored. That was until a trio burst through the door.

Childe jumps and whips his head around to see the intruders. It’s Aether and Paimon with a flustered Morax behind them. Aether is spewing affirmations at Zhongli in an attempt to comfort him, but the adeptus finds himself pacing around the hotel room.

“Yeah, just let yourself into my room why don’t you?” Childe teases and recieves a glare from Morax.

“Those fatui harbingers are nothing but rats,” Zhongli scoffs and flops down on the couch next to Childe.

“Whoa, hey now, I’m right here?” Tartaglia places a hand on his chest to look hurt, “what’s gotten into you?”

Aether clears his throat, “Uh we ran into some unfriendly harbingers… They really know how to throw around insults.”

Zhongli groans, “let us not retell the story.” He crosses his arms and taps his foot on the floor.

“No worries, Aether,” Childe waves, “I’ll handle it.”

Aether seems grateful and grimaces before awkwardly leaving the scene. Now it’s just the ginger harbinger and Rex Lapis.

“They had the audacity to make fun of me for not having any mora. I’m not broke, I just didn’t bring any with me!”

“Hold on,” Childe interrupts, “are you… angry?”

“Me?” Zhongli scoffs, “Not at all. I’m just confused!”

“You’re totally angry right now, look at you! You’re like steaming!” Childe laughs, “I’ve never seen you this emotional before.”

“I’m not!” Zhongli growls and glares at Childe again. At first, Childe is somewhat afraid. But a smirk forms on his face instead.

“It’s not healthy to hide your feelings,” Childe wraps an arm around Zhongli, placing his gloved hand on the other’s waist.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“But you are~” Childe pokes his side, making Zhongli flinch, “just admit that you’re angry.” Childe begins to wiggle all ten fingers gently against Zhongli’s waist.

“N-No- Ajax! W-Wahat are you d-doing?” Morax squirms in his spot, afraid to make any other movements that may enhance the ticklishness of the ginger’s fingers.

“I’m tickling you,” Childe grins at the sight of a blush forming on Zhongli’s nose bridge, “I didn’t think you’re ticklish, Morax. But it appears you are.”

“I-Ihi’m nahat.”

“Then why do you laugh when I stroke your sides?”

“A-Ahaha… I-I’m nohot laughing- hrk!”

“Yeah right,” Childe then scribbles all over the dragon’s ribs, tickling up and down and poking each bone.

“PAHahahaha! C-Chihihilde! Stohop that!” Zhongli’s blush darkens, he tries to sound irritated, but his genuine smile doesn’t allow him to.

“See? You’re smiling now, isn’t it great?”

“NOHOHO! Ihit isn’t!” Childe kisses the back of Zhongli’s neck, brushing his long ponytail to the side to add to the sensations. Morax scrunches his shoulders to avoid the tickles, and squeezes his arms around his waist to stop the attack on his side.

“ChihiHIHILDE! PleheHEase! I-it- Ihit tihihickles!”

“Oh? So you ARE ticklish? You admit it?”

“Y-Yehehes!! Now stohohop!”

“Hmm… But you lied to be the first time. I think that shouldn’t go unpunished,” Childe creeps closer and closer to the dragon’s underarms. In return, Morax squirms and jolts to escape but he’s weakened by the tickling.

“AHA! Nonono! Chihihilde! NOHOT THEHERE! Plehehease!”

“Not here? Well, are you going to admit that you’re angry?”

“IHIHI AM NOHOT ANGRY!”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs. He digs into Zhongli’s underarms and he goes nuts. Zhongli bucks his hips and screeches.

“AHAHAJAX!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! STAHAHAP! IT REHEHEALLY TIHIHICKLES!”

“Wow! I didn’t expect you to be so ticklish!”

“SHUHUHUT UHUP!”

“Now that’s not nice,” Childe teases. He blows raspberries into his neck while continuing his assault on his armpits.

“BUAHAHAHAHAH! AHAHALRIHIHGHT! YOHOU WIN! YOU GOT MEHEHEE! QUIHIT IHIT!”

“I win? So you admit you were angry?”

“YEHEHEHHES! I ADMIHIHIT IT! STOHOHOHP IT!”

“Oh, alright,” Childe rolls his eyes and stops the attack. Zhongli curls in on himself, gasping for air and then leaning into the ginger.

“Aw look at you. Don’t you feel better?”

“Y-yehes… I-I feehehel much behetter. Thank you, Ajax…” Zhongli places a hand on Childe’s cheek, smiling.

“Ahem,” Childe enjoys the touch until he feels Zhongli begin to wiggle his fingers, “H-Hey!” Childe immediately gets up, letting Zhongli roll over onto the floor.

“Oho? What’s wrong Childe?”

“Zhongli…”

“Cant handle what you dish out, hm?”

“Stay back!” Childe blocks his exposed stomach and sprints out of the room.

“You can run, but i’ll catch you!” Zhongli chuckles and takes his time to catch Childe, since it wont be hard to.

Fin

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#tickles #tickle #tickle content #tickle fluff #sfw #genshin tickle #genshin impact tickling #sfw tickle #tickle fic #tickle fanfiction #lee!zhongli #ler!childe