#ticklish alien

[ticklshalien]

I wish I could get paid to be tickled/tickle someone…life would suck a little less if my 9-5 consisted of tickles, cuddles, snacks, and a pretty boy :(!!!!

Can the government tax tickle money..?

#tword community #tickle thoughts #tickle content #tickle things #ticklish boy #playful tickles #ticklish alien #sfw tickle #I hate taxes #i hate working

[lovelynim]

Take 9, recording!

ALIEN STAGE/Actors!AU - Ivan x Till

A/N: Really, really self-indulgent fic because I NEEDED to get some fluff after the damage Round 6 did to me. Also, I added a little hc that TIll is an experience actor while Ivan is still a newbie, etc, etc, you know the drill

Also, tagging @blobbirobbi, @norieoncrack and @vash-yuu because you three gave me the boost to do it this afternoon. Also tagging @tiredleekaz because i feel you'll like this (hopefully)

Summary: Round 6's recording site. Stage scene. Take... 9, sigh. Lights, camera... action!

Word count: 1305 words.

“Alright, let’s do it, guys!” The director shouted and the rest of the team promptly took their places. The camera pointed towards Till and Ivan as the studio was quickly engulfed by silence.

“Here we go… ‘Cure’, stage scene, take 9. Action,” the director commanded and the first beats of the song began to play right after. The spotlight turned to Till and, so, it began.

“Allow me, to the tip of your fingers. Allow me, to the ends of your feet.”

Ivan quietly hummed the song along while the cameras tilted around the other man, capturing the crowd’s motion in the background while Till’s voice took all the room in the studio. Ivan knew the team was tired and probably beginning to feel a little frustrated after a couple of mistakes, but he couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it.

“Dissolve me in your gaze. I don’t want to let you go.”

‘Damn, he looks so cool right now’, Ivan thought as a smirk took place in his lips. The song went on and Ivan knew he had to focus. This was supposed to be a dramatic, emotional, tragic scene. He couldn’t be booping to the song they spent hours recording. Focus, Ivan, focus!

As Till continued to sing, Ivan decided it was a good time to rehearsal his lines. Maybe this would put him back in the right mood for this scene and, after all, he didn’t want to start the 10th take because he made the same mistake from 4 takes ago.

“Let me drown in you, until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time!”

Wait, was he at that part already?

Ivan opened his eyes and looked at the other guy with a slightly shocked expression. Gulping, he clenched his hands as he heard the piano keys starting to play in the background again. Time to shine, Ivan.

With heavy steps, Ivan walked towards his microphone. The camera was tilting right above him and it was a bit hard to keep a straight face, but he had to!

“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes.”

Carefully and gently, Ivan took his hands up and wrapped his fingers around the microphone. Holding it tightly, one word after the other left his lips and, as scripted, he was singing.

“May they linger on your tongue. You can break me apart.”

Narrowed eyes stared back at the camera in front of him. To the ones looking from the outside, Ivan seemed like the most confident actor in history, literally living up to his character. But on the inside, he couldn’t help but feel some nervousness stirring up. What if he sang the wrong line? What if he looked ugly on the recording? What if his voice cracked?!

No, it wasn’t time to think about those things. He managed to look at Till with the corner of his eyes and, even when he was idling, the sorrowful, tired look continued to stick to his face. So professional!

“Sick of those nights to come, to be engulfed by silence in your gaze where I’m seen. Consume me! Yes, me, oh oh!! ~”

Ivan would only be sure once they were done recording this scene, but he was almost 100% he nailed this part. He could feel his vocal chords slightly tiring, but nowhere near enough to make him stop.

And above anything else, the most important scene of this episode was coming up. The kiss.

“To this everlasting moment.”

“Face to face we dance.”

Ivan let out a small sigh as his last line was sung. Just as the words left his lips, the pages of the script started playing inside his head. ‘With a decisive move, you throw your microphone aside and walk to him’, he remembered the director explaining, detailing how it should be done.

“With our story lost in forever’s embrace!! ~”

Ivan felt literally chills running up his back when his eyes met Till’s. As a newbie actor, starring with someone as experienced as him was always an emotional rollercoaster, full of surprising moments that he would treasure forever. But not now. Now, he needed to focus.

Gently reaching for the other guy’s cheek, Ivan moved his hand to the back of Till’s head and pulled him into a kiss.

Part of himself questioned if he was supposed to enjoy recording this part over and over as much as he was doing, but knowing how annoyed the rest of the studio’s staff was at his mistakes, he would never voice such thoughts.

The instrumental played along with the flashing lights above them. Ivan only remembered the instructions that he should make the kiss last while Till would try to shove him away, but the director never said how, so there shouldn’t be much harm in improvising a little, right?

Ivan wrapped his free hand around Till’s slim torso, resting his fingers just below the other’s ribcage. Till pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away like the script told him to, but Ivan knew this wasn’t the lead to let him go, so he pulled the other man for another kiss.

However, there was something off. 

He was told that, yes, Till was going to try to break their kiss and free himself, but it shouldn’t be… this effective, Ivan thought. Deciding that it would be better to just play along, Ivan moved his hand down to Till’s neck while the other pressed a little harder against his side, hoping this would be enough to keep him still to the end of the scene.

But with barely seconds before the time for the score to pop up above their heads and show his character’s demise, Ivan noticed that Till… was laughing?

“Pfft- d-duhuhude!” TIll giggled, elbowing his arm in another attempt to free himself from his embrace. “Q-quit tihihickling, ahaha!”

“H-huh?” Ivan blinked, looking down to the little space between their bodies and taking a few seconds to realize what the other guy meant. “Wait, you mean this?”

“GyAHah, y-yes! Thahat, d-don’t dohohoh it! I’m tihihicklish there!” Till laughed, throwing his head back (and maybe trusting a little too much in Ivan’s strength to hold him in place).

A fuzzy, warm feeling spread over Ivan’s chest as he heard those words. What a wonderful discovery! How could he not notice this before?! “Ahah, sorry… I mean, I didn’t expect this or this to be enough to tickle you, Till, ~” Ivan teased, carelessly spidering his fingers against Till’s side and ribs.

Before he realized, there were them again: fooling in the middle of the set. Till laughing, desperately trying to escape his hug while the only worry inside Ivan’s mind was to find where else his senior would be ticklish.

“Ivan! C’mohohon!” Till laughed while the lights of the studio turned back on, illuminating the whole scene again as this take was already beyond salvation. “I cahahan’t breheheathe!”

“Oh? But you are-”

“Guys!” The director protested, making the duo stop in the middle of the scene with a surprised look on their faces. Right, they were recording. And with people around them. A lot of people. “Sigh, let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes, everybody.”

Despite the feeling of animosity towards them that seemed to spread across the rest of the staff, Ivan couldn’t stop himself from smiling and, much to his delight, the same seemed to go for Till.

“S-sorry, ahah, this one is my fault,” Till giggled as he got back into his own feet, rubbing his side where Ivan just tickled him. “Try to just, hmm… Hold my face?”

“Got it, I will keep that in mind,” Ivan hummed happily while walking off the stage by TIll’s side. Well, guess they couldn’t do much but wait for the next take now, right?

#alien stage #alien stage tickling #ivan #till #ivantill #lee!till #ticklish!till #ler!ivan #tickle fic #alien stage au

[xenovair]

Random hc that you all need to know: sierra is ridiculously ticklish, like cant breathe, squirmy, accidentally kicks you in the stomach level ticklish

#think abt that next time shes giving you a look that can kill #iggnrocnrovjfovj #i just love that ur local murder alien looks terrifying and Is terrifying..... but has this side to her #i LOVE HER OK..... #but also tickle her at ur own risk those accidental kicks are serious fognfkfj #mobile tbt. #bonus: ticklish enough that stubbley smooches make her smile and giggle into them #if ur soft enough going down 👀 especially when u reach her stomach area u will earn breathless lil laughs and some squirming #reserved for current and potential ship partners come get it while its hot x #am i bribing u ? yes. only if it works

[wifetomegatron]

an alchemy of ore & eu de parfum : how i imagine cybertronians react to human perfume (afab!reader) (nsfw!)

most of the lost light crew only knew about it in passing. rumor was that before the war, the wealthy would import organic plants from off-worlds to extract their oils: steam distillation, boiling, maceration. of course, it wasn't very popular when the planet's atmosphere lacked the proper gases. without volatile elements in the air like oxygen, the exotic scents hardly smelled like anything. it didn't stick against their armors the way it clings onto organic skin. so it became a short-lived experiment that barely dented the surface of the planet's long history of achievements. mechs, trying to replicate organic perfume. it sounded ridiculous.

until perceptor caught a whiff of it: phantom light, brushing against his olfactory sensors. he lifted his helm, finally compelled to tear his optics away from the datapad to look at the human liaison. he inhaled experimentally, failing to be discreet. embarrassed, you tell him it's the new bottle of body wash you've tried: a mixture of wild violets and pink hibiscus. do you like it?  he thinks of strange fragile flowers, drifting under the wind. perceptor nearly missed the question, slowly nodding as you leaned closer in worry. it took the mech a lot of self-restraint to not pull you flush against him when the new, alien fragrance hits him square in the chassis like a bullet.

minimus drags his human's wrist across his intake, peppering light kisses along the skin. it was where the sweet, smoky odor was strongest, luring him closer. with you sprawled across his lap: trembling, laughing at the ticklish sensation, minimus couldn't contain the small, helpless groan that escaped him. shamelessly tipping your chin down to press your lips against his. the fragrance of mandarin and jasmine, crowding the space between your bodies.  the scientist hovered above your shoulders, mouthguard grazing the junction where your neck meets your jaw. brainstorm tightened his grip against your wrists, pining it above your head. he wants to melt into you, to drown in the overwhelming scent of amber. tyrax, benzoin; he knows they're just a cluster of chemical reactions coming to life along the curve of your collarbones. bonds breaking and fracturing to release something tangy, saccharine. but you're telling him that bulgarian rose, sandalwood — foreign, outlandish names of floras he'd never heard about before was making you smell celestial ? he was the universe's biggest heathen, but primus, save him. you were wiggling underneath his frame, back flat against the pristine table. he says he wants to run a few experiments, noticing how your pupils respond by widening, skin prickling with excitement. 

he's trying to be gentle, servos encasing your hip to lower you down his spike. megatron watches as you take him, inch by inch. with your back pressed against his chest plate, he could feel the thrum of his spark against the line of your spine as it bows and curves in pleasure. as you spread your legs further to sink further, he rewards you with a kiss — brushing your hair aside to press his intake against the pulse point beneath your ear. and he tastes it, or rather, breathes it in. he didn't need to, but when your sweat mixes itself with the perfume you always wore: bergamot and peony, he inhales and loses himself even more.

the habsuite reeked of sex, and it crowded the air: humid and heavy, whirl's optic nearly offlined at how obscenely wet you were around his spike. already drunk on your pheromones. so when he lifted both your legs higher — up to his shoulders — to fit himself up to the hilt, whirl didn't expect to catch a whiff of your perfume around your ankles. you whined, a high-pitched, desperate sound, when he stopped thrusting to press his enstril against your achilles heel. that was enough for him to snap. he hoisted you up into a mating press, driving into you with a new kind of vigor. 'you did this on purpose', he emphasized by roughly grabbing your ass to push further into your already trembling cunt. causing you to moan into the dark. 'you knew we'd end up here. like this. filthy, little —'

sicilian mandarin and citrus musk. you made a mental note to yourself to wear the combination around your lover more often.

a/n : for @robot-horde because you're brilliant and left a comment on the tags of this post and it just inspired me to make more.

#transformers x reader #transformers x you #first aid #transformers idw #tf mtmte #mtmte #transformers mtmte #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #mtmte imagines #lost light #idw transformers #transformers lost light #tf headcanons #tf imagines #tf idw #transformers headcanons #transformers hc #tf hc #lost light x reader #lost light au #megatron #whirl #minimus ambus #perceptor #brainstorm #transformers imagine

[pahtoosh]

Hi, I’m not sure if your requests are open at the moment, but I figured I’d try anyway!

Would you be willing to write about Stucky and their little having a day out together? Like going to the zoo, the aquarium, or perhaps go swimming? Whatever you feel like writing is fine, even it is an entirely different activity!

I absolutely adore your work, so I can’t wait to see where you will take this idea 🩷

sleeping with the fishes

[image ID: a gif of fish swimming. /.end ID]

masterlist

sfw but 18+

wc: ~780 words

warnings: lots of being picked up and carried, not proofread

a/n: thank you so much for your kind words! this is such a sweet request, it’s my favorite thing to just write about a fun and fluffy day😁i hope you enjoy this and that i didn’t make you wait too long😅

pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader

summary: your daddies take you on a trip to the aquarium

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Woah, woah! Slow your roll, fish patrol.”

“There’s no time, Baba! We have to go the ‘quarium!” It was almost unreal how quickly you were moving while simultaneously not getting any closer to the front door. You were running out to the car when Bucky stopped you with a grip on the back of your jacket. That didn’t stop you from jogging midair, though.

“Ah-quarium.” He plopped you onto the small bench in the entryway. “And I’m pretty sure there’s enough time for you to at least put on some shoes before we leave the house.”

Bucky kneeled in front of you so he could help you get on a pair of sneakers. He made sure to double knot the laces, knowing that you would have no patience for getting your shoes retied today.

“Dada! Are you almost ready?!” you shouted down the hall.

Steve sped walked out of your room with a backpack of stuff. “Almost! There’s a lot to pack for a full day out of the house.”

You whined and tried stomping your feet, forgetting that Bucky was still putting on your shoes.

“Hey, no whining and no kicking Baba,” Steve reprimanded. “We’ll get there with plenty of time to spare, baby. The fish aren’t going to swim away.”

“They might,” Bucky teased.

“Nooooo!”

“Buck, c’mon.”

Bucky grinned mischievously and gave you ticklish kisses on your face before helping you off the bench. “I’m only kidding, angel. Let’s get you in the car and buckled up while we wait for Dada.”

After what felt like a million hours, you were finally at the aquarium. Your daddies went over some safety rules while you were still in the car and once you showed that you understood, it was go time.

There were so many exhibits to discover. The tanks seemed to go on forever, all with different species of fish, snails, crabs, turtles, and other animals that you’d never seen before.

The aquarium offered something for the whole family. Still a science nerd, Bucky enjoyed reading the information cards placed by the tanks. Some of the animals and their habits reminded him so much of the aliens he read about in his sci fi novels. Steve was keeping a mental note of the animals he wanted to draw for you later. He even took pictures of a few to serve as a reference. Meanwhile, you practically had your nose pressed on the glass, just admiring the fish with an overwhelming sense of wonder.

When you saw something especially cool, you’d tug on the sleeve of your nearest daddy and point. You couldn’t just witness something so special and not share it. One of the best moments was when you pointed out a scuba diver in the large tank to your Dada. The diver noticed you and started a game of rock, paper, scissors through the glass.

One of the safety rules for the day was that you had to either wear a leash backpack or hold a daddy’s hand the whole time. In the beginning, you chose to hold hands, but then you switched to the backpack for more freedom(and because your daddies either walked too slowly or had no idea which tanks were ones to stop and stare at and which ones just needed a quick glance).

You could’ve stayed at the aquarium forever, but eventually it was time to go home. Steve and Bucky could tell you were getting sleepy. You got a little more clumsy, often getting tangled in your backpack leash, and asked them to hold you more often. Your daddies suspected that some of the requests to be carried had nothing to do with needing to see from a higher point, and much to do with your tired legs.

“This was the last tank, bubba. Now we’re going to the gift shop and then going home, okay?” Steve said.

You sighed. “Okay, Dada. Can I take a picture of the jellyfish first? Please?”

“Yes you can, baby. Good manners.” Steve held you still while you took a photo of the jellyfish tank with your camera.

As the three of you went to the gift shop, you asked Bucky to hold your camera so you could hold your hands behind Steve’s neck and place your head on his shoulder. He of course said yes. Your Baba also snapped a sneaky shot of Steve carrying sleepy little you using your camera.

You were practically already dozing off by the time you made it to the gift shop, but your daddies still went in and asked if you wanted anything to remember this trip by. You ended up leaving with a beluga whale plush, which you cuddled with the entire way home.

#inspiration has struck!! #stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #oneshot #fluff #sfw regression #agere fic #marvel agere #littlespace fics #sleeping with the fishes #sleeping-with-the-fishes #toosh writes #little being carried

[shu-box-puns]

Toddler Spider sitting on the lab floor playing with Tsu’tey’s tail. He’s got his shoes on the wrong feet - Norm had to fight him to put them on but didn’t have the strength for round two to fix them. He’s also dressed in one of Jake’s old shirts - he doesn’t need those now - which had been cut down to size so it’s a top and not a dress on him.

The rest of the scientists are very busy with a potential breakthrough, whilst Tsu’tey wanted to get out of watching Jake fail to keep Lo’ak in line. The hunter is endlessly curious about Spider, and in turn, the toddler is infatuated with Tsu’tey. 

Norm definitely left Spider in Tsu’tey’s care without giving him a warning or a headsup, so he’s just stuck babysitting until one of the Sky Demons remember to come check on the kid. (Tsu’tey is too ennamoured with the tiny human to say no, even if Norm did ask. Also, Spider’s peels of laughter make his ears flick which just make him laugh harder and it’s the purest thing he’s ever witness).

ANYWAY, Spider is sitting beside this enormous blue alien that could easily hold him in the palm of his hand despite being three. He’s currently combing his stubby little fingers through the soft hairs at the end of Tsu’tey’s tail, grinning wildly at the way the limb jumps and wiggles under his grasp.

Tsu’tey is just watching him. A soft expression his face that he would deny wearing even after he’s returned to Eywa.

Spider completely catches him off guard by suddenly turning to him and stating proudly, “you’re my best fwend Daddy.”

He says it casually. A simple fact. And then returns to clumsily poking at the stripes carved into Tsu’tey’s tail.

Tsu’tey on the other hand is stunned into silence. Even his tail goes still despite the ticklish feeling of tiny fingers running all over it.

Daddy?

Spider just referred to him as Daddy.

He’s grinning before he can stop himself. All his fangs pushing out from behind his lips hard enough that his mouth aches. Spider saw him as his Dad. Eywa, he couldn’t wait to rub it in Jake’s face that Spider called him Dad before Neteyam called Jake Dad.

Meanwhile, Spider is completely oblivious to the chaos he has just started. 

Whilst, Tsu’tey is fighting the urge to squeeze this kid tightly enough to pop him because the cuteness aggression that is kicking in stronger than he’s ever felt before. 

It takes him several breathes to calm himself. To stop looking at Spider with heart eyes and a burning need to take him home. He would fit in perfectly among the na’vi kids his age, and Tsu’tey is sure that with enough work, the People would grow to love him as feircely as Tsu’tey was beginning to love him.

Somehow he finds his voice, and replies simply, “You’re MY best friend.” Spider stares up at him with starry eyes. If his ears could move, they’d be flapping with joy at the quiet admittance. 

#father-son duo #Spider Socorro #Tsu'tey #Dad!Tsu'tey

[carionto]

Do you think aliens would be weirded or freaked out that when we're tickled, it's actually a pain response but laughter (sometimes anger) is the only way we can deal with it? Or that tickling is even a thing?

That startling repeated noise.

Humans often make it, particularly when with other Humans. They say it's generally a reaction to positive emotional and unexpected physical stimulation in certain parts of their bodies. It is quite... disturbing sometimes.

Once a Human asked me to "tickle" them, saying my slender feathery limbs would be a fantastic sensation to experience. They raised their arms up and exposed their bare skin and said: "Go for the sides. My ribs are extra sensitive to that." Hesitantly, I complied.

Upon the lightest touch, they screamed louder than I had ever heard anyone do. It was mortifying, like the death-wail of a raging beast. I instinctively snapped back and my feet jolted me 10 meters away in a second.

The Human kept making this noise for a brief moment, then asked me to come back and continue, saying: "Oh man, I've never felt anything that gently peculiar. It's like a hundred feathers all in one place caressing each individual nerve ending. It's okay, us Humans love laughing like this, it's great."

Despite my initial shock and discomfort at the noise, I decided to comply and "tickle" the Human for a few minutes. It was a rather grueling experience to be honest, but after a short while, seeing more of what their "joy" looks like, I grew accustomed to the noise. Just a little.

"Whoo, damn, that actually tired me out. Haven't had a good laugh like that in a while, thanks for humoring me." The Human said while looking exhausted and catching their breath. I have never seen a Human on this station be physically tired before, even when they run and jump around and recklessly endanger their lives. But a light touch, I barely even had to move, and the Human was all but incapacitated.

"Hey, could you do me a favor? When you go back to your department, give one of the people there a tickle, someone who looks all gloomy or is often complaining about something. They could use a laugh. It won't be as effective through clothing, but trust me, they'll thank you for it. And if they don't just tell them I told you to do it, it'll be fine."

That last phrase raised alarm bells, but the reassurance and how much fun they seemed to have convinced me to accept their request. After all, it is a good thing to spread joy and happiness, so if this is one way I can help out Humans, then I should.

Big mistake.

When I got back and noticed one Human who fit the description, I approached them from behind and tickled the back of their neck, as I was told that is another sensitive spot.

They screamed, turned around and slapped my arm out of the way faster than I could retract it.

The bone is still healing, doctors said it would take a month for all the fractures to fully reconnect and harden, but the nerve connection to my seventh finger was so badly damaged I would never be able to fully extend it again.

I was visited by both Humans who I had "tickled" and the first was in a very apologetic and defeated mood. The other spoke: "I apologize for breaking your arm. I did not mean to. Tickling is one of those things we don't fully understand about ourselves, but it isn't just about having fun and being entertained." This was pointed more to the first Human.

"It's an automatic response, most Humans feel ticklish like this one here, but some, like me, find it painful and our response to external stimuli towards sensitive parts of our bodies is to protect them fiercely, like you had the misfortune of experience for yourself."

"I'll speak to the administration and have them include this in the guidelines for interacting with us Humans. And," turning directly towards the first Human now: "I'll have them include a section for Humans about not teaching our Alien friends to play children's tricks on us." They turned back to me. "Get well soon, and again, sorry about this mess."

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #carionto #humanity fuck yeah

[somekindofpoet]

I’d LOVE a smutty drabble based off that one anon’s tummy kisses with Lorraine cause I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I know you put it in the last fic but I’d love one dedicated to tummy kisses

For once it’s not blazing hot outside. Rain drizzles down your apartment windows, thunder rolling in the background, the usual blue sky a dark foreboding gray. It’s easy to not feel guilty about spending all day inside when the weather gets like this. The Day ranch will keep their animals indoors, hunkered down with enough feed to last them until it passes.

Lorraine insists on watching movies all day. She’s particularly interested in a new film called Alien. You’ve heard it’s great, a horror masterpiece with cutting edge filming techniques and a very talented up and coming actress as the lead.

The film is incredible, you admit that. But something about the way Lorraine looks sitting on your couch, her shirt riding up around her waist, makes it difficult to focus. She’s engrossed, her eyes wide and engaged, fully enjoying the movie. You try to pull her in closer, give her the hint that you no longer want to be watching movies. You have something much more fun in mind.

“Baby quit,” she says, side eying you, “I don’t want to miss this part.”

You huff, sitting back and trying to pay attention again. An idea overcomes you, and you know it’s going to piss her off, but maybe it’ll get you what you want.

“Man, that Ripley is somethin, huh?”

Lorraine’s brow furrows just slightly, her jaw flexing.

“I guess,” is all she replies, but you can see that it’s worked.

Her fingers pick at the hem of her shirt and her eyes are searching harder now, looking for the allure in Sigourney Weaver. It’s not hard to find. You push her further.

“How much you think she had to work out for this film? Or you think she’s just built like that.”

Lorraine waves you off with a glare, “Hush.”

You grin, watch her body language. Her frown hasn’t left her face and she leans back into the cushions, her shirt exposing her stomach just a little further. You grow impatient, and throw the games out the window.

Leaning over, you pull her shirt up a little higher, kiss her just above her hip. She sucks in air, her stomach jumping.

“What’re you doing?”

You smile into her skin, pull the shirt up higher, “Nothing. Watch your movie Raine.”

Her eyes flit between the screen and your lips on her skin. She can’t decide if she wants to stand her ground or not. You inch over, kiss just under her bellybutton.

“I know what you’re-“ she gasps, cutting herself off when your tongue runs over her skin above her pants.

You hum, playing innocent, not looking up at her. Lift her shirt a little higher, holding it against her ribs, press a less than innocent kiss there. Her fingers quickly find their way into your hair, her nails gently scratching at your scalp.

You slide off the couch, kneel between her legs, your lips still on her skin, your hand pushing her shirt up. When you feel her hand leave your hair and her shirt leave your hand, you know you’re victorious. She pulls it over her head and you look up at her, trying not to gloat. Her eyes are dark, low lidded, her lips parted. She’s lost all interest in the movie.

You return to her stomach, nip at her ribs, your lips soothing the slight redness when you let go. When you stray too far to her side, instead of a gasp of desire, she giggles. You stop, look up at her with a curious smile. Kiss her there again, she squeals and pushes your head away.

You go back to her waistline, chuckling into her skin at your discovery.

“What’s so funny?” She drawls, running her fingers into your hair again.

You lift your head, shrugging, “You’re ticklish.”

She rolls her eyes, but the pink in her cheeks and her hand in your hair tells you just how much she enjoys it.

You tuck your fingers into her waist band and pull her sweats down, she lifts her hips to help you get them down her legs and kicks them aside. Her ticklish spots on her stomach may be new territory for you, but between her legs certainly is not. In fact, it may just be your favorite place in the world.

When you kiss her there, you get to listen to your favorite sound in the world, Lorraine gasping and moaning above your head. Taste her on your tongue, second best to nothing you’ve ever had. And when she cums for you, her hips rolling into your mouth, her stomach twitching under your hand, you get to see your favorite view.

#lpm #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #lorraine day x reader #lpm drabble

[yurislotusgarden]

Relationship hc's

ʚїɞ Dazai Osamu x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ This is just part 1 as I'm gonna write hc's like this for more characters

ʚїɞ word count: 1581

ʚїɞ why are hc's the longest thing I have written yet?

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader's gender is not specified in any way

ཐིཋྀ Our local clingy cockroach mf

ཐིཋྀ He always tries to be touching you

ཐིཋྀ Holding hands or pinkies, side hugs, back hugs (he won't miss a chance of burying his face into your hair, shoulder, or neck) <3

ཐིཋྀ Speaking of neck kisses. He loves them (both giving and receiving), especially if you jump at the feeling or are ticklish there

ཐིཋྀ Protective. Not to the point of it being overprotective but it’s very easy to see this man would die for you if he had to he very much has to stop himself from going back to his old ways when someone even tries to hurt you. Even worse if it’s done directly in front of him

ཐིཋྀ He’s possessive but not to a point where it’s overbearing or controlling. He just doesn’t wanna lose you

ཐིཋྀ If you work at the agency there's no peace for you :)

ཐིཋྀ He tries to get your attention by doing absolutely ANYTHING

ཐིཋྀ Man doesn't let you do paperwork. Stealing pens or the papers themselves, moving your chair randomly, and forget about ignoring his antics unless you wanna deal with his whining

ཐིཋྀ "I'm dying 'donna!" "I'm gonna die if I don't get it" <--- Dazai whining loudly while either lying down on the couch, floor, or on his desk

ཐིཋྀ "I'm working Osamu" <--- You, who’s been listening to that for the past 20 minutes

ཐིཋྀ You would be able to ignore him longer if the brunette didn't straight up pick you up from your seat and move you over to his desk to put you on his lap

ཐིཋྀ The whining stopping and him actually doing something can go from not waiting and picking you up, which would be like 2 minutes to like 20 minutes, to literally dragging you out of the agency.

ཐིཋྀ Good luck getting up from his lap or when cuddling because this man has a grip of steel

ཐིཋྀ If you don’t work at the agency and are a civilian, the agency would find out about you 2 being together… at some point

ཐིཋྀ You guys would wait a few months to see if the relationship has a chance of lasting and once yall are sure the other ain’t going anywhere not directed at Dazai I swear, Dazai would come up with some way to reveal it in a way that leaves the ada confused as hell and you 2 laughing

ཐིཋྀ It would be probably one out of these 3:

ཐིཋྀ The first option, randomly seeing you out in the city while he’s walking with someone and coming up to flirt with you in Dazai style TM

ཐིཋྀ He probably would do it while he’s out with Kunikida and Atsushi ;-;

ཐིཋྀ I swear Kunikida would get an aneurysm and Atsushi would change into a statue the moment they process your words

ཐིཋྀ Like the moment you say that you’re dating Dazai and aren’t some unfortunate soul who the brunette decided to flirt with, Kunikida is down on the sidewalk and Atsushi looks like someone told him he’s an alien so well the poor boy believed them

ཐིཋྀ The ada asked you if Dazai pays you or if you’re held hostage by Dazai because they can’t believe someone is willingly dating the bandage-wasting machine

ཐིཋྀ “Blink twice fast right now if you’re in danger” ←- definitely not Yosano

ཐིཋྀ “Hey!” ←- and totally not playfully offended Dazai

ཐིཋྀ The second option, updating personal/employee files (2 possibilities here)

ཐིཋྀ It really depends on how long was the relationship hidden, and whether yall are just dating or got goddamn married by the time either of those 2 possibilities (I am not putting getting married in secret past this guy)

ཐིཋྀ One possibility would be the emergency number

ཐིཋྀ Dazai getting hurt happens, and every time the injury is on the more serious side, Kunikida has to look if there’s an emergency contact in the files knowing Dazai has barely anything written on the paper, so imagine his shock upon seeing a number being actually written down

ཐིཋྀ When did Dazai do it? Poor Kunikida has no idea but it’s there now so he’s calling (he perfectly knows it can be another prank and the number may lead to a pizza place or something)

ཐིཋྀ So you got called (Kunikida had to take a minute to realize Dazai’s got an actual emergency number now) and then came to the agency in a hurry, per Kunikida’s request

ཐིཋྀ They probably wouldn’t ask who you are to Dazai at first, after seeing you worried. But after that when Yosano told you his condition and you calmed down? Bombarded with questions. Dazai aint getting out of them either after waking up

ཐིཋྀ And the third option, Kunikida going through employee files and seeing Dazai has ‘married’ on the marital status-

ཐིཋྀ So here would be the typical “There’s no way *you* are married”. Dazai would, of course, act offended because “What do you mean no one would want to marry me Kunikida-kun?!” and would either show his ring and call you to come to the agency or only show his ring to others and leave them in mystery for some time

ཐིཋྀ Jesus, I went off track, this was meant to be relationship hcs (may write one of the 3 ideas tho)

ཐིཋྀ Anyway

ཐིཋྀ He’s so soft and careful with you because he thinks he will scare you away (he won’t) :(

ཐིཋྀ He WILL take you to Oda’s grave at one point, as well as tell you about his past, even if not everything, you still know more than most people

ཐིཋྀ If Dazai’s not at the agency when he’s supposed to and you want to find him? The best option is to look wherever his little ‘bella is! He’s most likely with you (read: clinging onto you like a koala)

ཐིཋྀ Wearing anything of his is an invitation to touch you in his eyes

ཐིཋྀ Whether he steals your clothes depends simply on whether they fit him (even if tight) or not

ཐིཋྀ PLEASE wear his clothes, and do domestic shit with him. He’s falling in love all over again every time. He literally melts inside

ཐིཋྀ I don’t think it depends on when you met dazai, you know Chuuya in some damn way. If you met while he was in the mafia then knowing Chuuya is obvious if talking about how, but after Dazai left the PM, it depends on whether you work at the agency or not

ཐིཋྀ If you’re a civilian, it was most likely a chance meeting, like while you and Dazai were out on a date, or randomly out of the apartment/house for like shopping or something

ཐིཋྀ If you work at the agency, really possible it was because of a mission

ཐིཋྀ Changing the topic, I wouldn’t let this guy into the kitchen let me tell you. Unless you want something to be on fire (he once burned water and it was the most confusing thing you have ever seen. You both still just don’t know how he managed to achieve that but you never again let him cook when you’re not in the kitchen for even a minute)

ཐིཋྀ Use his shampoo and/or body wash and then proceed to wear anything of his, I dare you. You will have a Dazai-looking puddle on the floor the minute he realizes what you did

ཐིཋྀ I was about to write jealousy hcs but with how many ideas I have on that topic, I will just write another post for that

ཐིཋྀ Remember his look from Dead Apple? He saved that suit and that’s how he looks on some of the dates -the ones paid for with Kunikida’s money-

ཐིཋྀ On the other hand, most dates etc. are really casual and cute. A picnic in a more isolated place, sitting there until the stars come out, mini dates to cafes, library, arcade, or even just a peaceful walk around, during the day and at night under the night sky

ཐིཋྀ Yes, he buys you flowers, there’s no schedule whatsoever, so you can never fully predict when he is going to have a bouquet in his hands or not when visiting

ཐིཋྀ If you’re a foreigner, he’s so learning your mother tongue to some degree (depends how hard it is but probably will end up quite fluent in it after some time)

ཐིཋྀ He can shit-talk people even more with that, and he wants to flirt with you in your own language at one point

ཐིཋྀ“You’re so pretty ‘samu”

“‘bella, Japanese or another language I can understand please”

“But I like this more than a normal conversation tho”

“...I’m pretty sure you just disagreed”

“Maybe I did, pretty boy”

“I’m confused. You are either cussing me out or complimenting me.”

“And you shall stay in mystery forever.”

“‘donna!”

ཐིཋྀ ^ One of the convos yall had before he started learning (if it’s a language he doesn’t already know)

ཐིཋྀ You wanted to confuse him to have tease material for later

ཐིཋྀ You succeeded

ཐིཋྀ I hc that he and Chuuya learned different languages from Kouyou for work so get ready to be flirted with in a language you don’t understand most likely

ཐིཋྀ Kisses are either really damn soft that make you melt or are greedy ones that make you want more. No in-between with this mf

He very much uses the needy kisses to tease and/or frustrate you

ཐིཋྀ He loves you I swear, you will never notice just how much he does. When he says you are his reason as to why he’s still alive he very much means that :(

ཐིཋྀ Speaking of, the suicide attempts get rarer with the passing days. They happen, but not as much anymore <3

Notes, comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated &lt;3

#srs why is this the longest thing #i love this tho #I said I'm gonna post more and I will #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #x reader

[fakesimp]

Drunk and Love, With Ren Zotto

Warning !

Fluff ; Clingy! Drunk! Ren ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Aha. Clingy Drunk Ren. Don't worry Renvaders, I still remember what I said.

➶◜◝➴

One night, both of you decided to hangout, alcohol is out, multiple movies have been chosen.

Ren sat on the floor in between your thighs, you sitting on the couch. Your fingers running through his hair locks, sometimes you would poke his horn.

Both of you sometimes would share a drink as you both watch the movie throughout the night, you glanced down at how many cans have been drank, and it is quite a lot. To say the least.

In the middle of the second movie, you felt Ren's fingers drawing shapes on your thighs, it felt ticklish. By instinct you moved your legs away, only for him to whine slightly and pulled your thighs back.

"Ren, it's ticklish." You said as you tried to move your legs away, but his grip on your thighs tighten and he tilt his head slightly to see you.

And that is, when you noticed, his cheeks are flushed red. His eyes seems to be in a haze, him smiling at you oh so innocently. "But I just want to touch your thighs" he said, almost slurring. "Ren-" You paused for a moment as you examined him, he hummed softly as he glance back at you. Smiling again.

"Are you drunk?" He pondered for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, "I don't know, maybe." He replied before letting out a small laugh. You let out a sigh and smiled gently at him, "Then let' stop drinking, I don't want you to get a bad hangover in the morning."

. . .

As soon as the second movie ends, both of you went to bed. And for the love of God, he did not let you go. He refuses to let go. His arms wrapped around you, whenever you tried to get out from his arms, he tightens up and pull you even closer.

In the middle of the night you needed to go to the bathroom, but your Beloved Alien here still refuses to let you go. It seems like the effect of the alcohol is still on him, "Where are you goinnngg" he asked as he pouts slightly while looking at you.

"Toilet-" "No" "Ren." "Noooo" He hugged you tighter, "Don't go, stay with me" he pleaded.

And yes, both of you didn' go to sleep. Well, you tried. But he doesn't let you, both of you just cuddled on the bed in silence. Sometimes he woulf start a conversation, but it was a short one before the silence went back.

Now you wanted to go to the toilet, this man refuses to let you go take a toilet break. "Ren, I'll come back" "Noo, don't leave meee" He said as you tried to loosen his arms around you.

It took you almost 30 minutes to convince your drunken Alien Lover to let you go, but in the end he is still sticking with you. You literally had to push him out from the bathroom due to how close he is, he was pouting when you closed to door on him.

He stood there by the door, waiting for you to finish. After like a minute you opened the door to see him sitting on the floor, his back facing you. He then looked up at you, blinked once before smiling widely at you. "Baaabeee I miss youuu" he gets off from the floor and held your hand, "Are you done? Let's go back please?" He said, you reciprocate his hold.

"Okay, but we're going to sleep alright?" "But it's just 5:50 Am." "Ren, we need sleep." He pouted slightly when you scolded him, but in the end you manage to get both of you some sleep.

When he woke up after a few hours, he was getting a heavy headache, that you have to take care of him. And when you told him how clingy and cute he is last night, he was quite embarrassed, but he chuckled in the end, sheepishly though.

".. Sorry, I didn't realize how clingy I was, ..But I hope you don't mind about it though.."

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

There. Aha, Cutie. I don't know why, but I'm in awe as I write this fic. It's cute.

#nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #illuna x reader #illuna #ren zotto x reader #ren zotto

[ticklshalien]

Chewing at the bars of my enclosure as I try to not write tickle fics about my ocs, before giving info on them..

#tickle content #ticklish boy #tword community #playful tickles #tickle things #tickle thoughts #ticklish alien #sfw tickle #oc artist #oc tickles

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter three: fair game - in collaboration with @katiexpunk

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~6.5k

a/n: katie and I wrote to our slutty hearts' desires. srsly she is a smut fairy & loving friend. plz follow her. @katiexpunk

warning(s): SMUUUUUT.

tags: f & m masturbation, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v, creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, spitting (1), fair date, eating, flirting

NOV 2005

You can’t stop thinking about that night at Joel’s a week ago. The way he touched you, pleasured you in a way that you've never experienced before. The way he kissed you, fervently yet soft. You could kiss him for hours and never tire. 

Not only are you craving his touch, but you also find yourself wanting to learn more about him. You want to know him. The things you’ve learned about him through Sarah and what you’ve picked up on are tiny crumbs, leaving you starving for more. 

You hope he feels the same. 

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Joel since that night, as you’ve been drowning at work. You started working for this publishing firm in college, first, as an intern, and now that you’ve finished school, you’re an editor. You agreed to take on extra responsibilities due to your coworker being out on maternity leave, which has exponentially increased your workload, on top of your boss being a micromanaging asshole.

Joel’s been burning the candle at both ends. He’s working against a tight deadline on a big project for a persnickety client and Sarah’s soccer team is in the playoffs for the district championship; he’s incredibly proud but attending her neverending roster of games has left him a bit preoccupied. He never thought he would end up being a soccer dad, but life has a funny way of keeping him on his toes. 

Much like you, he’s replayed you squirting on his leather couch in his mind over and over, a never-ending lascivious reel that plays in his head as he fucks his cock at night. Joel longs to hear those saccharine sounds you make while you ride his cock, your tits bouncing in tandem with your movements. He’s kicking himself for not getting his hands, or mouth, on your pillowy breasts. The cheekiness of forgoing a bra in your bunny costume revealed a side of you that he wants to unleash. 

He wants to know everything; what keeps you up at night, what makes you double over in laughter, your ticklish spots, which movies make you cry without fail, all of your little quirks. Hell, he even wants to know if you believe in aliens. 

+++

You pull into your driveway after a long, grueling day at work. Your brain is so fried you didn’t even turn the music on for the drive home; a rarity for you since you always have music playing in your car, whether it be the FM radio or one of the various CDs you’ve collected over the years. A true indicator of your current state of being. You can’t wait to veg out on the couch, rid your mind of this shitty week, and huddle into an antisocial ball. 

After a few moments of idly sitting in your car, you peel yourself from the driver’s seat and go to retrieve your work tote from your trunk when you hear a deep voice calling out to you, one you’d recognize anywhere. You turn in the direction of the sound and find Joel. He’s clearly working on a renovation project; a miter saw, lumber and a plethora of other tools are set up in his front yard. There’s another man with him, bearing a slight resemblance to Joel. Brothers, maybe? 

“Hey, neighbor!” Joel immediately regrets his word choice, finding it oddly stiff — considering he’s had his face between your thighs. 

“Hey Joel!” You manage to shout back, despite your energy battery being crucially depleted. 

He waves for you to come over. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you’re unable to resist him. Not when he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, hair tousled, and coaxing you across the street. 

Though you feel drained, being in close proximity to Joel makes your body thrum in nerves. You’re being energized by anxious attraction. 

Joel and the mystery man greet you at the edge of the yard. 

“This is my brother Tommy. Tommy, this is my neighbor.” 

“So, this is the pretty neighbor you were tellin’ me about,” Tommy says, his southern drawl identical to Joel’s. 

Joel glares at Tommy. If looks could kill. 

Tommy holds out his hand, you tell him your name and give him your hand for a brief shake; much like Joel’s does, his palm size is large in comparison to yours and envelops your full hand. You survey the man in front of you; handsome, dark curly hair like Joel, slightly longer and free of the grays his brother sports, deep brown eyes, similar to Joel’s. The Miller genes are super fucking strong. 

“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgment, his eyes dragging over your figure just a second too long. 

“I’m gonna start packin’ these tools up,” Tommy announces to Joel and then shoots him a wink. It’s obvious he wasn’t aiming for subtlety, clearly wanting to give you and his brother a moment alone. 

Joel shifts his broad frame to face you directly. You wish you didn’t feel so bashful in his presence, but it’s hard to breathe evenly when he is standing so close you can smell him - earthy and a hint of his deodorant wearing off. It should be gross to you, but you want to put his scent in a candle. You’re fucking deranged. 

“Sorry, ‘m all sweaty…” Joel apologizes, looking down at himself, remembering that he probably reeks like a locker room. 

You wave off his apology, giggling at his self-awareness. 

“I wanted to ask you somethin’,'' Joel says, gently wrapping his hand around your arm right above your elbow. Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the touch of his calloused fingers. 

“Okay…” 

“I was wonderin’...” Joel pauses, his fingers now grazing over the soft skin of your arm. 

You gulp in anticipation. “Yes, Joel?” 

“I was wonderin’ if you’d like to go on a date with me,'' he asks, his eyes dropping to his boots for a second before coming back up to meet yours, “a proper one.” 

You’re so giddy at his proposition you think you might burst.

“Well, you know…I’ve gotta check my calendar,” you say, a big grin plastered on your face. You see his face drop, but before he can sulk too much you wink at him and say, “yeah, I’d love to,” you exhale and try to keep your voice level, not wanting to give away how excited you actually are. A date. With Joel Miller. 

“You free tomorrow?” he asks, beaming, revealing the dimpled smile you’re so fond of. 

“Lucky for you, I am,” you say, feeling your skin warm. 

“Pick you up at 7?” he asks, dipping his face closer to yours, his hand now on your waist pulling you into him. 

“Works for me,” you confirm while planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, “see you then, neighbor!” you conclude, being sure to emphasize the neighbor in your words, and before he can convince you to stay, you’re sauntering across the street back to your house.

+++

It’s finally here. Your big date with Joel.

The day went by torturously slow, anticipation pulsing through your entire body.

You spent almost two hours getting ready, the majority of the time trying to pick an outfit. You probably changed 30 times, trying to find the outfit that conveyed the perfect balance of sexy, yet subdued. 

You decide on a pair of dark wash flares and a lacy top, both accentuating your figure heavenly. You spritz on a little perfume you save for special occasions. If this ain’t a hell of an occasion. 

Joel, with impeccable timing, rings the doorbell right as you tug your black cowboy boots on. It’s sill relatively warm in Austin, so you decide to forgo a jacket. 

Opening the door, you and Joel take a moment to check the other out, neither of you trying to hide it whatsoever. Joel’s wearing his signature jeans and a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his veiny, strong forearms. You’d hump his arms given the opportunity. 

“Absolutely stunnin’, sweetheart,” he licks his bottom lip while his brown irises roam over your entire body, paying special attention to your waist and tits. You’re mentally patting yourself on the back for your outfit choice. 

“One could say the same for you, cowboy,” you quip back, a smug grin plastered across your face. 

Your smile shoots blood straight to Joel’s cock. 

He swallows as he realizes the night is just beginning. 

+++

Joel takes you to a quaint diner for your date. From the outside, it’s unassuming; an older building in urgent need of a pressure wash, adjacent to a virtually empty shopping center. A true hole-in-the-wall in the middle of downtown Austin. 

“It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but I promise ya, they got the best damn burgers in town,” he assures, seeing the questioning look on your face when he pulls into the parking lot. 

You and Joel slide into a booth in the far corner, Joel insisting that booth seating is part of the experience. You both order burgers, per his recommendation and boy, it does not disappoint. 

Between bites of food, you and Joel learn more about each other. The conversation flows easily, both hanging onto each other’s every word; no awkwardness or feigning interest. You both share parts of your childhoods and you share stories from your college days. Joel recounts the mischief he and Tommy got into when they were younger, earning several belly laughs from you. 

Joel loves the way you laugh; candidly, throwing your head back, your shoulders jerking uncontrollably as you try to catch a breath. 

You’re pleased to learn that both you and Joel have a fondness for 80’s action movies, especially the over-the-top-borderline-cheesy ones, and 70’s artists like Fleetwood Mac and Electric Light Orchestra.

Joel asks about your job as an editor. You tell him the different types of manuscripts you have to read; some you drudge through, others you enjoy. “I love seeing how the story progresses from the first rough draft up until the final copy,” you tell him,” a lot of authors are really full of themselves, so you have to boil down a lot of the flowery language and hubris.” 

In return, he tells you about how he got started as a contractor, hard work rewarded him with promotions until he opened up his own contracting business six years ago. “It’s priceless gettin’ to be your own boss,” he says, “not havin’ to answer to anyone, can be more selective in projects you wanna take on,” he continues, and you swear you’re listening but you’re secretly caught up in the sound of his voice and the way his lips move when he’s talking; hypnotizing you with every word.

Joel opens up about when Sarah came into this world; the happiest day of his life while simultaneously being scared shitless — he was wild and ungovernable, definitely not ready for fatherhood.  

Through the years he’s found his rhythm. He doesn’t talk about her mother and you don’t ask; you’re not looking to dig into that lore on the first date. He tells you what Sarah was like as a baby and the subsequent years. Your heart melts at the adoration and pride that glow in his eyes when he talks about his daughter. 

You both sit in the overused booth, totally absentminded to the world around you. You’re both locked into one another, afraid of missing even the faintest shift in facial expressions. You might as well be the only two people here. 

Taking the final bite of your burger, you tell Joel that you’re inclined to agree that these are the best burgers in town. 

He mumbles something to the effect of “told ya,” before finishing his last bite. 

On the ride home from the diner, you spot an illuminated Ferris wheel, glowing in the distance of the Austin night. 

“Oh, I didn’t know the fair was still in town. I haven’t been in years!” exclaiming a little loudly for a woman your age, “can we…..?” 

Joel can’t say no to you, not when you’re giving him a pleading, pouty look. 

+++ 

Once inside the fairgrounds, you both walk through the selection of vendors, and it doesn’t take long for the funnel cake sign to catch your eye; Joel purchases you one and you continue on your adventure together. 

“Here,” he says, offering you a paper napkin. 

You gently shake your head, shoving another bite of funnel cake into your mouth, “don’t need one.”

He laughs. You look like a stubborn child learning what sugar is for the first time, “you’re gonna get all sticky,” he says, a big grin enveloping his face, your eagerness for the sweetness of the battered dough reminds him of Sarah’s sweet tooth. God, you’re cute – it makes him wish she was with you both tonight. 

Well, that is until he notices it. It’s subtle, but it’s there – a sprinkling of powdered sugar on your cheek and exposed chest.

He knows this is a family event, but he wants to do anything but PG-rated things with you right now.  

He stares at the white dust on your skin until your voice catches his attention again. 

“Maybe I want to be sticky,” you reply, “gives you more to lick off of me later.” 

And fuck, if that doesn’t turn him on. 

The thought of his tongue on you sends a flood of impure thoughts to his brain; much like the ones he had when you first showed up at his door, covered in remnants of flour, all sugar and sweetness. 

He knows now.

You may be sugar, but fuck, if you haven’t got some spice in you, too. 

+++ 

As you stroll, your eyes grow wide when you see it; a yellow wooden sign with the words “bobbing for apples” in Comic Sans engraved into it. 

“Ah! Joel! Bobbing for apples! I haven’t done that since I was a kid – we have to do it!” you say, your voice is a little too eager and a little too high-pitched, but the childlike wonder on your face is all the convincing that Joel needs. He might not admit it, but he’d give you anything you want. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, letting you lead the way. 

You and Joel make your way up to the station, and a fair worker in an apron and a straw hat shouts to the crowd, “Come one, come all! Test your skills at an apple grab; the winner gets a prize,” his voice is low in octave but loud enough like he’s speaking through a megaphone. 

A line of fair-goers of all ages quickly forms around the barrels filled with water and apples, and you look at Joel with eager eyes as you step up to yours.

The rules of the game were explained by the worker with a chuckle, “Alright, folks, no hands, just your teeth. Lean in, and bob for an apple, and what you catch is yours to keep plus a prize from the booth to the right.” 

“You sure about this, sweetheart? You’re gonna get all wet,” Joel asks, probably just a smidge too concerned about your well-being considering it’s just bobbing for apples. 

“You gonna act like you don’t know that I’ve been wet this entire night?” you say, not waiting  to hear his response as the worker calls out a loud “GO!” 

Giggles and cheers fill the air as you and your fellow participants lean over the barrel. Your face disappears into the water; your competitiveness in overdrive  – edging yourself deeper and deeper into the water; so far that your shirt gets soaked. You don’t care, though, and you gleam from satisfaction as you resurface with a gleaming red apple held triumphantly between your teeth. 

The crowd erupts in applause at your efforts, and Joel stands watching you with his hands on his hips, a smile plastered on his face. As his gaze drops from the apple in your mouth, he notices the wetness of your shirt and shit, you’re positively drenched. 

It takes Joel all of .0002 seconds to notice the silhouette of your nipples peeking out from your shirt, the goosebumps littering your skin, and the tail ends of your hair wet and starting to curl under the weight of the water. 

You drop the apple from your teeth and catch it in your palm.

“Well, well…looks like you’re on a date with a prize-winnin’ apple picker. Feeling lucky yet?” you tort, attempting to flirt through the uncomfortable press of the damp fabric on your skin. 

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen that mouth in action, I already knew you were going to win,” he says, “but you know I’d never thought I’d see the day…” he trails off. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly confused. 

“Never thought I’d see the day that I was jealous of a fuckin’ Red Delicious apple,” he says, humor behind his voice, “s’ashame I wasn’t the one you were bobbin’ for in that barrel.” 

“Listen, if you want to get wet and let me put you in my mouth, I am more than happy to accommodate,” you reply back, your voice flirty and suggestive. 

Joel doesn’t respond, but you see him palm himself through the denim of his jeans at your suggestion, interjecting his thoughts. 

You can’t hide the shivers that take over your body from the chill of the night air and the wetness of your clothing. 

“C’mere, baby, you’re freezin’,” he says, brow furrowed, and arms wide open stretched out to you, beckoning you into his large arms. You take a step forward and step into his brace, letting yourself melt into the warmth of his arms and the aroma of his natural scent. 

You stand there, wet in more ways than one, and let him hold you. Your arms wrap around his thick middle, and he rubs up and down your back with both palms in an attempt to warm you up. He releases you momentarily before saying, “Here, take this.”

You step away from him for a second, giving him space to slip off the flannel he’s wearing, revealing nothing but a white t-shirt underneath; the little tufts of hair peeking out through the collar of his shirt almost send you into a tailspin. 

He holds the flannel open by the collar to face you, encouraging you to put it on. You turn your back to him, allowing him the privilege of holding  it as you slip your arms into the sleeves. The fabric of the shirt is warm from his skin, and the moment you put it on you’re flooded with the smell embedded deep within the fibers; all musk, whiskey, cinnamon, wood, and Joel. 

“Come on, now, you little bobbin’ minx,  let’s go get you your prize,” he says, tilting his head to the prize booth. You grab his hand and let him lead the way this time. 

You and Joel make your way to the prize booth, the smell of kettle corn invades your senses; sure, you were already stuffed with funnel cake and your dinner, but the sweet aroma makes your mouth water. Or maybe it’s just Joel, you’re not quite sure, but you don’t really care. 

In the small structure of the prize booth, the shelves were adorned with a colorful array of stuffed animals of all sizes, trinkets, and games. You carefully assess your prize options while the attendant tries to convince you that of all of the random assortment of prizes, you absolutely need the goldfish. Right. 

You look over the options in front of you for what feels like a good ten minutes before the attendant not so subtly grows tired of your indecision. You sigh. You decide on a small puppy dog with beady plastic brown eyes, and you nod in thanks as he hands it to you, and you and Joel walk away from the booth. 

“Had a tough time decidin’ there, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” Joel asks, not really questioning. 

“Well, to be honest, none of the prizes were really appealing to me,” you respond, playing with the fluffy ears of the stuffed plush in your hands. “I only picked this one because I thought Sarah might like it,” you say. Your consideration for Sarah, and your accepting demeanor to her, warms Joel’s heart. 

“But I can think of one I’d really like to claim,” you say, catching his gaze. You see his jaw clench at your words. 

“Oh yeah? And that would be..?” 

“You,” the word comes out breathy. 

You both stop walking and the crunch of the dirt under his boots and the distant sounds of the fair in the background all but freeze as you stand there, seemingly paused in your own little private moment. 

“Take me home, Joel,” you say, planting your palm on his broad chest and stepping closer to him, your chest nearly flush against his. His hands skate down to your waist, and he closes the gap between your bodies, holding you close enough that you feel the growing bulge between his thighs. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, leaning down, planting a kiss on the top of your head. 

And it’s sweet. 

Just like the funnel cake. 

And just like he thinks you are. 

But you have other plans for him tonight. 

And he has the same for you. 

+++ 

You and Joel make your way out of the fairgrounds and to the lot where Joel parked his truck. 

Still wearing his flannel, the stuffed puppy dog intertwined between your crossed arms, you wait for him to open the passenger side door. You all but eye fuck him as he reaches into the depth of the  front pocket of his jeans and grabs his keys. He unlocks the door, and opens it for you; offering you a hand to help guide you in. 

“Always such a gentleman,” you say, placing your hand in his, accepting his offer, using the strength of his arm to help lift yourself into the bed of the truck. 

Joel rounds around the front of the vehicle, unlocks the driver’s side door, and slides in. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life and the radio turns on, “Come a Little Closer” by Dierks Bentley plays over the speakers. 

Deciding to take a note from the lyrics, you don’t bother to buckle yourself into the passenger seat, and instead slide over into the middle seat of the truck, positioning yourself tightly against Joel’s side. You lace your arm through the underside of his and interlock them, your hand curls around his firm bicep. You lean your head into his shoulder, and close your eyes, taking a moment to bask in the solitude of the strong man beneath you. 

He looks down at you for a moment – god, he could get used to this. He dwells on the thought for a moment longer and then begins to drive away. 

You’re clinging to him and you both ride like that in an easy silence, apart from the faint music and the hum of his truck. It has been so long since you felt so content, so at peace with the moment and yourself; not worried about work or life, or anything. It was just you and Joel, and you like it that way. 

Nearly back to your house, and your shared neighborhood, you let your left hand wander on the expanse of his thigh. The time for sweetness is over. The events of the night, your combined obvious want, and the flirtatious taunts catch up with you. 

Joel keeps his eyes on the road, but you don’t miss the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens as your hand makes its way closer to his belt buckle. You begin to toy with the cool metal there, and his large palm comes down to cup yours. 

“We’re almost home,” he says, holding your hand tight against his stiffening cock, not letting you move. “But I want to feel you now,” you whine. 

“I know, baby, I know you wanna get your hands on this cock, and I would like nothing more,” he says, “but you’re gonna have to be patient, we only have a few more minutes until we’re there.” 

“And why do I have to be patient, neighbor?” you ask, pulling your hand away, slightly keyed up. Greedy. Horny. 

“Because I wanna give that needy little pussy the attention she deserves,” he says, “and because once I get started, I know ‘m not gonna be able to stop.”

“And neighbor ain’t gonna be what you’ll be calling me,” he says roughly, “I’ll fuckin’ make sure of that, sweetheart.”

He takes a turn and pulls into your neighborhood. You catch a glimpse of Mrs. Morrison taking out her trash. She glares at you in disapproval as you drive past in Joel’s truck. 

You sometimes wonder what your neighbors might think; a pretty little young thing like you, the youngest daughter, hanging out with the older, single-father neighbor across the way. 

But truthfully, you don’t really give a fuck. 

+++ 

Joel pulls up into your driveway, the engine purrs softly before falling silent.  You both pause in silence. 

Joel turns to you, a smirk on his lips “We’re here,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of invite me in behind his voice. 

You glance out the window, your house bathed in the soft glow of your porch light. You turn back to Joel and say “Thank you for tonight, I really had a fun time. But to be honest, I just realized I never got to thank you properly…” 

Joel looks at you and something dark flickers in his gaze. “And what would you need to be thankin’ me for, sweetheart?”  As if he didn’t know. 

“For the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Come in and I’ll return the favor” conjuring your sultriest voice, knowing he doesn’t need an invitation.  

You step out of the truck, and the night air is cool, a  gentle breeze whispers through your hair;  your features are illuminated by the street lights in your neighborhood, and the warm glow casts an inviting aura around you. Joel appears at your side of the truck and helps you exit. 

The gravel under your feet crunches as you walk toward the front porch; the air is charged with electricity, a livewire, a magnetic pull drawing your bodies together. 

The porch light by your door casts a warm yellow glow on your faces. You pause at the front of the step and reach for your house keys in your purse. Your porch swing sways gently in the breeze, its rhythmic creaking adding to the undertone of the moment. 

You insert the key into the lock, but before you can fully turn the doorknob to open the door, Joel already has his large palm on yours, opening the door,  pushing you through the door frame and into your house, his hands cradling your face before he crashes his plush lips into yours. 

The second you’re both fully in your house, Joel's hands are on the hem of your shirt,  silently begging for you to take it off. You let him work on getting you topless, meanwhile, your hands are hastily working to undo his belt buckle, the excitement of finally being able to touch him and him not being able to stop touching you has you worked up.  Joel presses his thighs together against yours, drawing little moans from you while he nips at your neck. 

As much as he is trying to distract you, he’s no match for your determination. In record-breaking time you have his buckle undone and the zipper of his jeans is down; you gracefully fall to your knees before him, tugging his pants and his boxers down with you to the floor. Joel’s cock releases from the confines of his clothing and slaps against his tummy, leaving a little trail of pre-cum in its wake. You already knew he was big, but having him in full view makes you realize just how big he really is. 

You lick your lips and reach out to grab his thick cock, affectionately kissing the tip of his cock; you run your tongue through the slit, lapping up the salty pre-cum that drops out before you circle your tongue along the underside of his head. You let your jaw go slack, and you begin to dip down on his length; a gurgling sound escapes your lips as you pull back up again. You do this a few times before letting his hard cock fall from your lips, your lips puffy and coated in saliva, some of it dribbling past your chin. 

You pull off momentarily and smile up at Joel. He thinks you look far too sweet and innocent for someone who is absolutely taking his cock deep in your throat like a champ. He intertwines his fingers through your hair and groans, before gently urging you back down onto his cock. 

“Fuck, sweetheart – can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about having that pretty little mouth of yours on my cock,” he says slightly breathless. 

The thought of him thinking about you goes straight to your core and makes you want to mouth fuck him harder. 

You wrap your lips around him again, and he thrusts his hips to glide his cock inside of your mouth to the back of your throat. 

He begins to pick up his pace, holding your head steady by your hair as he fucks into your throat, pressing deeper and deeper until spit pools at the corners of your mouth and slight tears form in the corners of your eyes. He presses you down onto him until your lips are wrapped around the base of him and the coarse hairs that reside there. You’re drowning in the taste of him, hardly able to breathe, but you don’t care; you want him to chase his high, to use your mouth for his own pleasure. He made you come harder than anyone ever has before; this was the least you could do for him. 

“Jesus – look at you, pretty girl, fuck you feel so good wrapped around me,” he grits out, “takin’ it so well, baby.”

His words go straight to your cunt, the ache now insufferable. 

You begin to work him harder with your tongue, struggling for air, and he inches closer to the back of your throat and you begin to gag. Joel pulls out, not wanting to hurt you, and a strand of saliva trails between your lips and his cock. You blink back tears and look up at him, your mascara now a mess on your face, and your eyes glossy. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his brow furrowed in concern. 

You swallow, and reach up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You are okay. More than okay. 

“Peachy. I'm relieved I finally got to return the favor,” you hum, standing to rise to meet his face. 

He wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you tight against the front of his body; you feel the warmth of his tummy, the hardness of his cock, and the strength of his back behind your grip and it makes your legs turn to Jell-O. Fuck, you need him. 

Joel kisses you for a moment, before pulling away and bringing his lips to your ear “Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl.” 

You feel your stomach swoop and your folds tingle; you have thought about this moment for so long and you yearn for the stretch of him; to know what it’s like to be filled to the brim with Joel fucking Miller. 

He kicks off his boots, steps out of the clothing bunched around his ankles, and takes your hand to follow you down the hallway into your bedroom. 

Part of him wants to take his time; to make you feel good, to taste you again, and feel you come and come on his fingers. Part of him wants to shuck down your jeans and put your pretty pussy in his face. 

Joel doesn’t particularly think of himself as a selfish man, but he has waited patiently, and he needs you. Now. 

As much as he wants the taste of you on his lips, the part of him that wants to shove himself into your addictive cunt until you forget your name until you forget every other name except for his, is the dominant one right now. 

Once in the bedroom, he crowds you back until the back of your calves meet the edge of your mattress. He grabs both of your hips in a bruising grip and pulls you tight against his chest, his hips grinding into yours, and you lean your face up to kiss him. You think he might kiss you, but instead, he ghosts your lips and leans forward until your back meets the soft fabric of the mattress with an oof, and he’s on top of you. 

He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. His grip on you is firm, yet gentle. You’ve seen his brute strength in action and the fact that he could overpower you sends a shiver to your clit. 

“So beautiful, darlin’ – you know that?” he kisses your nose and trails a slew of them down your cheek, your jaw, your chin, and neck. Once at the nape of your neck, he nibbles on your earlobe and whispers “You ready for me, sweetheart?” his breath is heavy in your ear. 

You can’t nod fast enough in agreement. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he practically purrs the question. 

You want nothing more than to be a good girl for Joel. You nod almost aggressively to make up for the fact that you’re unable to construct a single sentence right now. 

He lets out a satisfied moan and drops his grip on your wrists, and drags his heavy hands down your body to the center of your jeans and undoes the button of your pants, and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of both your jeans and your panties and pulls them down in one fell swoop. 

He dips down to place a delicate kiss to your tummy and lets the weight of his head rest on the softness of you. He inhales deeply, the aroma of your perfume comforts him, and he fights the urge to dip his face lower and bury himself in your pussy. 

You drop both of your hands and grab his head, your fingers carding through his hair, and he groans. 

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” he says, not really questioning. 

“I am being a good girl,” you respond back, not really sure what prompted his statement. 

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. When I put you in a position, I want you to stay there, until I say you can move. Got it?” 

And holy fuck, bossy Joel turns you on. 

You only hum in response. 

“Need you to use your words, sweet girl. Answer me, or I’ll make you,” he says, voice low, his head closer to your center now, almost to exactly where you need him but not quite. 

“Ye - ah, yes, fuck I understand,” sending all of your energy to string the words together. 

He hums in acknowledgment and pushes your hands back up overhead, telling you to keep them there, and only to touch him when he says you can. When he releases your hands and sees that your arms stay put, he rasps out a “good girl”. 

He then reaches down and notches his tip at your entrance, and drags the weight of his thick cock through your glistening folds.

“Mmmm so fuckin’ wet, this all for me?” 

“All for you, J-oel,” you’re trembling, desperate to feel him deep inside you. 

He pauses momentarily, only the tip of him inside you, and god, it’s such a tease. 

You know it’ll sting, but you want him to just fucking bury every inch of himself inside of you. You don’t care about the pain; you crave the stretch of him. 

“Joel – ah, need more,” you moan, “need all of you.” 

“You sure, sweetheart? I ‘don wanna hurt you,” he says, once again concerned about you. 

“Joel, I want you to fucking wreck me. Need you to move, please.” 

After your plea, he obliges. You feel every inch of him, the way he throbs inside of you, and the tip of his head drags against the spongey spot inside of you. 

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to move in and out of you, he feels so fucking good, and you’re so perfectly full. 

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and gruff, still continuing to saw in and out of you. ‘’Want you to look at me while I fuck you.” 

And his words are like music to your fucking ears. He’s the perfect balance of gentleman and fucking filth. 

He brings a hand down to circle your clit, and with the added sensation you’re not far off from your orgasm. You can feel it growing in your stomach with every circle of his thumb and every thrust of his cock. You open your mouth, your jaw slack, and you begin to moan. 

“Fuck, baby – you shouldn’t open your mouth like that,” he moans. 

“And – fuckkkk, why not?” You respond back, breathless from each of his thrusts. 

“Just a reminder of another hole I need to use,” he responds, and then gruffly says “Open,” while pressing his thumb and index finger into your jaw, holding you in place. 

You do as he says, and he spits into your mouth. Your eyes wide as saucers. It was hot, dirty, filthy. 

“Taste how perfect we are together, baby” he says, still pounding into you and circling your clit. 

His words send you into fucking oblivion, and you’re gone. Your vision goes white, and despite his order to keep your eyes open, your eyes fall closed and he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Your tight, slick walls pulse and squeeze around him. His hands squeeze your hips, his fingertips bruising your skin as he rocks your limp and shaky body against his cock, chasing his own orgasm. 

Not long after you’ve come, he’s finishing too. He fucks into you at an erratic pace and then shoots his seed deep into your cunt. 

“Fuckkk, baby” – he trails off, letting the final spurts of his cum paint your walls. 

You let out a sigh, and once again drop your hands to his head, intertwining your hands with the hair behind his head. 

You both lay there in your fucked out bliss and then he pulls out of you, taking a dribble of his cum with him, a glob of it landing on your thigh. 

You’ve never felt so satisfied, to be laying there, content and full of Joel Miller. 

He rolls over onto his side and puts his hand on his chest. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re perfect,” he says. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get enough of you.” 

You hum in delight and roll over onto his chest, melting into him. 

“You in the mood for some cookies?” you ask, and he beams in delight. 

He hit the fucking lottery with you. 

THE END

#joel fic #joel miller #fanfic #joel x f!reader #joel miller is babygirl #fanfic writer #clawing at my cage #first fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x female reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou fic #the last of us hbo

[redwinterroses]

Boatem, on any given day, was probably gonna be two things:

Obviously, the first was “chaotic.” That surprises no one, yeah? Raise your hand if you’re surprised that Boatem was chaotic. 

See? No hands. It's a thing that is known. You got your end crystals and tree wars and mountains going up over night and ravagers raining from the heavens… Boatem was the home-sweet-home of chaos. And it lived there very comfortably.

But the second trait that Boatem had, on every day that end in Y, wasn’t quite as obvious. 

It was "secretive."

Hah. Yeah, I see your quirked eyebrow of skepticism. Look buddy, I had a bird’s eye view of the whole thing and I can tell you this for sure: the only reason none of those morons got caught out in their big secrets was that they were all too busy being cartoonishly self-conscious to notice literally everyone else doing the same thing.

That thing being, specifically: pretending to be human.

Yeah. You heard me. Human. Pretending. As in: none of that lot are human in any way, shape, and only occasionally in form.

Take Mumbo for example. Dear old Mumbo Jumbo, my personal nemesis—and also the member of Boatem I got to see up close and personal the most.

Lucky me.

He somehow managed to hide it right under everyone else’s nose, which I can only chalk up to years of trusting friendship mixed with a hilarious lack of awareness. His shapeshifting abilities have never been more unstable than they were in Boatem—maybe it was the chaos bleeding through, or the way that world was a bit unstable even from the very beginning… Either way, he turned into a living potato right in front of all of them and they barely blinked. 

A potato.

Night after night I had to listen to him pacing around in his storage room, muttering to himself about how dangerous it was to be a shapeshifter living with a bunch of humans. How he was putting a lot at risk and what fibs he was going to tell to play it off as some sort of joke or prank. I started keeping a scratch tally of how many times he said “Oh dear. Oh dear."

I ran out of space about two weeks in.

But it’s not like any of his neighbors were going to notice anyway. “Living with a bunch of humans,” my big wishbone. 

Human. Hah. Right, like “human” Pearl—the alien who ducked her feathery antennae in her hair any time someone came around, who floated around her base like gravity was frickin' optional? Pearl, who nearly got caught with her antennae out every time someone ran past and jumped like a skittish rabbit enough to raise anyone’s suspicions… Except her clueless Boatem pals.

Or “human” Scar, who never even hides his vexy teeth when he grins, but somehow everyone acts like they don’t notice. Maybe he uses some sort of glamor on them—not like I’d know. Magic is ticklish territory for my type. All I know is that for someone who loudly proclaims to be human—a thing no human has ever actually had to do—he didn’t go to much effort to act like one. 

And then there’s that Impulse guy. I’m not sure what he is, but the one time he got close enough to peck he nearly roasted my tail feathers. Plus it seemed like all you had to do was say his name and he’d just… show up.

Downright creepy if you ask me. Not like no one ever does. Don't bother talkin' to the guy who has a view of everything for 18 chunks--no, just blame him for your dumb redstone door breaking.

Anyway. The one Mumbo seemed most desperate to hide his “secret” from was… that other one. I don’t even like to say his name, to be perfectly honest with you but I know you know who I’m talking about. The wing-appropriator. The merry prankster. The one who watches you with eyes so dark you never know where he’s looking. 

And people say I have beady black eyes.

I don’t even know why Mumbo bothered trying to hide it from Gr… from him. Or why he was trying to hide what he was from the rest of them. Or how they never noticed the extra pairs of wings that would sometimes flutter about, or how he always saw when people were trying to prank him—even if it looked like he was asleep. 

But I’ll admit it was hilarious watching them dance around each other like a couple of hens avoiding a creeper—except both of them were hens and they each thought the other was a creeper. 

Somehow—somehow—none of them ever noticed the others. Who needs camouflage when you've got friends this oblivious? Anyway, come on—we all know none of them would actually care if they revealed their precious secrets.

I kinda hope they never do, though. Five best friends, none of whom are human, all convinced that they're the only alien-vex-demon-shapeshifter-thing-nonhuman in the bunch?

That's a joke even this bird-brain can appreciate.

#it's 2:30 why am I posting this at such an ungodly hour #hermitcraft #boatem #hermitcraft s8 #redwinterwrites #the narrator is that chicken that plagued Mumbo's mountain #if you hadn't already realized lol #just feeling some boatem things tonight #and saw a story prompt that went #“Four roommates are extraterrestrials who... believes the other three are normal humans” #and I got inspired XD #also I just watched like 3 hours of RatsSMP and Oli's voice is in my head #so this chicken has the voice of Oli Oriansound and if you read it with his garbage rat voice it's even funnier lol #boatem village my beloved

[spooky-switch]

Mama Bird || Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3 Tickle Fic (Squealing Santa 2023)

Summary: The new baby raccoons have imprinted on Rocket and will not leave him alone; Quill couldn't be more amused.

Author's Notes: This is my Squealing Santa gift for @fanficsandfluff! I hope you enjoy it! It's such an honor to have been chosen to write for one of my biggest inspirations in this community!

"Oh, come on!" Rocket groaned, watching as the fluffy little creatures stumbled after him, letting out little cries for attention. "I know you guys wanna play, but I've got work to do! I can't hold ya' all the time!"

The smaller raccoons gave no indication of understanding (or caring about) what Rocket was saying, mewls growing louder at the sound of his rocket.

"I am Groot." Groot chuckled, grinning down his friend. Rocket gave a small scoff, shaking his head.

"I got LUCKY raisin' you so good with how you acted out. This is WAY different; look how many of them there are! And they're so...small!" Rocket retorted, letting out a soft sigh as the little creatures began to crawl up his legs, seeking the comforting warmth of his torso.

"You're the one who wanted to take them so badly." Quill chimed in, a gigantic grin of his own plastered to his face. "Besides, you're their mama bird, of course they'd wanna stick with you 24/7."

Rocket shot his captain a glare. "I ain't no mama bird! Besides, it's not like I could just leave them behind on that ship, could I?"

Quill shrugged. "True, but I DID offer to drop them off on earth once I had recovered, and you were the one who turned down the suggestion."

"You can't just drop them off on some strange planet they've never been to! They wouldn't have made it there, either!"

"Rocket, they CAME from earth, they would've been fine. Besides, it's not like I would have just dumped them in the woods somewhere. Earth has people specifically trained to take care of creatures like them until they are old enough to survive on their own." Quill replied, a teasing glimmer entering his eyes. "I think you just got attached to them and knew you'd miss them."

The older raccoon huffed. "Oh, shut up!" He looked down, watching as two or three of the little ones made it to his torso, immediately attempting to burrow under his clothing to gain better access to the soft, warm fur of his stomach. "Hey, watch it, will ya?" He grunted, half-heartedly attempting to nudge the little creatures away.

"I am Groot!" The tree-like alien snickered, shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth.

"S-Shut up! I ain't ticklish, I just don't want them crawlin' all over me like a bunch of little bugs!" Rocket snapped, though there was no malice behind his words, and a smile was already tugging at his lips as he continued trying to pry the little raccoons off of him.

"Aw, come on! We all know THAT'S a lie!" Quill smirked, uncrossing his arms and wiggling a few teasing fingers Rocket's direction. "You're ticklish as shit, dude!"

"I said shut up!"

Rocket squirmed, hopping from foot to foot as soft titters began to build up in his throat. He could feel the little creatures' paws scratching gently (yet infuriatingly ticklishly) at his torso, quickly driving the older raccoon up the wall.

"Shihihihihihihit! Knohohohohock it ohohohohohohoff!" The raccoon giggled; he ACTUALLY giggled! Quill let out a snort of laughter, shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his mirth.

"Oho my god, this is the cutest shit I've ever seen!"

"I am Groot!" Groot replied, nodding in head in agreement, causing Rocket's cheeks to heat up beneath his fur. The raccoon lurched forward, a wheezy cackle tumbling out as one of the little balls of fur found a particularly comfortable (and ticklish) spot on his stomach and nuzzled up to it.

"I'M GOHOHOHOHOHONNA KILL YOU BOHOHOHOHOTH! HELP MEHEHEHEHEHE!"

Quill raised a brow. "Now, why would I do that after you LITERALLY just threatened me? Nah, I think I'll just let the runts have their fun with you for a bit. You need to laugh more anyways." He retorted with a smirk, his sass only increasing Rocket's desire to wipe that smug grin off of his face the instant he managed to pull himself together. The raccoon was already plotting how to get his claws and tail on his leader's sensitive stomach and underarms; how to reduce the man to a shrieking mess.

Oho, yeah, Quill was a dead man.

#ticklish!rocket raccoon #mentioned ticklish!peter quill #guardians of the galaxy tickle fic #tickle fic #sfw tickles #sfw tickling community #squealing santa 2023 #spooky's tickly stuff

[eitherlyingorstupid]

Something inspired by the Hot Rod car wash thing @pinkanonwrites posted...

Imagine you're an attendant at a car wash and Beachcomber pulls in, looking for help to clear the mud off his frame. It seems he's been off-roading.

So you start washing him down. His engine is surprisingly loud, even when idling, and revs strongly whenever you touch his rollbars. Beachcomber squirms (as much as a Chenoweth Hellfire can squirm) as you spray the hose on his tires. There are some parts (namely, his undercarriage) you can't reach, so you ask him to transform.

Once he does, you discover that his underside becomes his chest in robot mode. You get pretty up close and personal with him, and it's kind of strange to be washing a giant alien robot. But you do enjoy getting him to "purr", especially when you start running your sponge over his thighs.

Apparently you did a really good job, because Beachcomber returns to the car wash later in the week. He's not particularly dirty, but you indulge him anyway.

At one point, you climb into his driver seat with a vacuum hose and suction his seats out, which causes Beachcomber to shudder. Apparently, he's ticklish there. You have to contend with the trembling of his frame as you clean him, but the gentle sighs he makes are worth it.

(What you don't see is Beachcomber running off afterwards to a secluded area to self-service, his frame shaking from the charge your and your delicate little human hands have built up inside him.)

#valveplug

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 - 스트레이 키즈:

Tickletober [2023]

Alien [Series] ~ complete

Gifts [Mini Series] ~ completed

Hoodie [Mini Series] ~ incomplete

Longing [Mini Series] - incomplete

Torture [Mini Series] ~ incomplete

Jenga  [Mini Series] ~ complete 

Sana’s Guide to Wrecking SKZ ~ complete

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥-𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬:

☆ Sleep Schedule - lee chan | ler skz 

☆ Work Ethic: - lee chan | ler felix

☆ Decision: - lee chan | lee minho | ler skz

☆ Behind the Scenes: - lee minho | ler chan, felix, and seungmin

☆ Air Fryer: - lee minho | ler hyunjin

☆ The Pain Carries Silently... - lee minho | ler skz

☆ Bratty (feat. jeonginsdiary)- lee minho | ler chan 

☆ Weak - lee changbin | ler chan, hyunjin, and jisung

☆ Least Ticklish? - lee changbin | ler minho | ler hyunjin

☆ How SKZ Would Wreck Changbin: - lee changbin | ler skz

☆ Oh Really?- lee hyunjin | ler minho 

☆ Knuckle: - lee hyunjin | ler skz

☆ Closer to You: - lee hyunjin | ler felix

☆ WoW- lee han | ler chan | ler changbin 

☆ Use Your Words - lee han | ler chan

☆ Team Up - lee han | ler chan | ler minho 

☆ Older: - lee han| ler jeongin

☆ Eepy Quokka - lee han | ler chan | ler changbin 

☆ A Little Tied Up: - lee han | ler skz

☆ The Worst: - lee han | ler minho

☆ How To Slow Down Time:  - lee han| ler minho

☆ Prettiest Laugh:  - lee han | ler reader

☆ Pillow Fight - lee 3racha | ler 3racha

☆ Tiktoks on Friday - lee felix | ler hyunjin

☆ A Shy Happiness: - lee felix | ler changbin

☆ A Well-Deserved Break - lee seungmin | ler skz

☆ Machine Ler[n]ing - Part 2: - lee seungmin | ler minho, hyunjin, han

[part 1 in drabbles]

☆ Punishment, please? - lee seungmin | ler jeongin

☆ A Little Too Old - lee seungmin | ler chan 

☆ Cheer Up - lee jeongin | ler skz 

☆ Throw Pillow: - lee jeongin | ler hyunjin, han, chan

☆ Ruthless? Seeker:  - lee skz | ler chan

☆ Movie Night - lee skz | ler skz 

☆ Ler Headcanons: SKZ

☆ Lee Headcanons: SKZ

☆ SKZ Tickle Charts:

𝐟𝐞𝐰-𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬:

☆ UnSurprise: - lee minho, jisung | ler chan | ler seungmin

☆ UnSurprise - Part 2: - lee changbin | ler chan, minho, jisung, seungmin

☆ Twister: - lee han | ler reader

☆ Twister - Part 2 - lee minho | ler skz | ler reader

☆ Quokka's Giggles Part 1- lee han | ler minho 

☆ Quokka's Giggles Part 2 - switch | minho | ler han

☆ Diagnosis [Med AU] - lee changbin | ler minho | ler chan

☆ Diagnosis — Part 2: - lee changbin | ler minho | ler chan

☆ Take It Or Leave It: - lee han | ler skz

☆ Take It Or Leave It - Prologue: - lee han | ler hyung line

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬:

☆ the murder of the manager [hoodie part 2.1] - [no tickling]

☆ most ticklish - lee hyunjin | ler seungmin

☆ air fryer - part 2 - lee felix | ler minho | ler hyunjin

☆ just as ticklish~ - lee chan | ler minho

☆ brownie thief - lee chan | ler felix

☆ pinned - lee seungmin | ler chan

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬:

☁️ — lee changbin | ler felix

☁️ — lee seungmin | ler minho

☁️ — lee jeongin | ler minho

☁️ — lee han | ler changbin

☁️ — lee changbin | ler skz 

☁️ — lee changbin | ler felix 

© itzsana-kiddingmenow ~ do not repost, rewrite, or claim credit in any way

#kpop tickle #stray kids #skz tickle #skz #sana’s masterlists