#ticklish el

[rosiesramblings]

Steve Is Forcibly Adopted

Fandom: Stranger Things

WC: 1.5k

A/N: It's been a minute! I swear I meant to finish this like a month ago. I hope you enjoy this fic of Steve and his chosen family.

It was in the early hours of July 5th, 1985, when Hopper and El adopted Steve. It would be a while before Steve himself recognized this, but that night at the hospital was the beginning of their cobbled-together family.

The exhaustion had taken residence in Hopper’s bones, and with the hefty dose of non-opioid pain meds in his system, the only thing he wanted was to go home and sleep. Preferably on the floor of El’s room, but he would settle for the couch outside her door if she wanted space. El had been given stitches and a clean bill of health by Owens’ people, and had quietly accepted the crutches Hopper pushed into her arms. 

“Ready to head home?” Hop asked as El pulled herself to her feet and awkwardly positioned the crutches under her arms. Instead of answering, she started toward the door.

The two of them made it slowly down the endless hallway, quiet except for the beeping machines behind other closed doors. Until -

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington, but we can’t release you until you have someone who can watch you for the next few days,” an apologetic nurse could be heard from behind a curtain.

“It’s Steve. And I promise I’ll be fine, and I’ll come back if anything weird starts to happen, just - please, let me leave,” Steve Harrington sounded like he was half delirious, half on the verge of tears.

“Steve, you were injected with an unknown substance, we really can’t let you leave on your own,” the nurse explained.

Hopper had heard enough. One glance at El’s wide pleading eyes was all he needed before he twitched the curtain aside with a gruff, “We’ll take him.”

Steve and the nurse both jumped, and Jesus, it looks like the kid’s been through the wringer. Bruises littered his face, a patch of gauze was taped over one eye, and Hopper could tell the kid was dealing with some broken ribs by the way his arm cradled his torso.

Steve blinked in confusion as the nurse brightened. “Chief Hopper! Of course, I’ll get his discharge paperwork. Shouldn’t take two minutes.”

XXXXXXXXX

In the hospital parking lot, Steve hung back when El and Hopper clambered into Hop’s car. He kept his eyes on the ground, scuffing the toe of one sneaker. “Thanks for breaking me out, Chief. I’ll, uh, get out of your hair.”

Hop didn’t even have to look to see the way El’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth, but Hop beat her to it. “Kid, I wasn’t lying about keeping an eye on you. The nurse said you need to be watched, so we’ll watch you. Got it?”

A blush crept up on Steve’s face. “Oh, I couldn’t impose, really, and I’m sure you want to spend some time with Supergirl here, and -”

“Steve,” El’s quiet plea stopped him in his tracks. “We want you. To come home with us. Please.” The passenger side door swung open. El wiped a trickle of blood from her nose.

“Get in the damn car, kid,” Hop said gruffly. 

Steve got in the damn car.

XXXXXXXXX

What was supposed to be a week of Hop-and-El-supervision melted into two weeks of all-three-of-them-healing-and-processing, which became a month of Steve-helping-El-with-schoolwork-while-Hop-fixed-up-the-cabin, until one day Hopper climbed up the cabin steps after work, listening to the faint sounds of his kids making dinner together, and he was suddenly struck by how right it all felt.

The three had dinner together, and El turned on her favorite soap while Hop took care of the dishes. Steve took a quick shower, and then padded into the living room in his pajamas. He collapsed on the couch next to El, making her bounce in her seat.

“Do we have to watch this boring show, Ellie? Why can’t we put on a baseball game or something?” He whined playfully.

“Because,” El said primly, “My show is good. Baseball is just men chasing after a ball and trying to get it in a hoop.”

Steve flopped over on top of El. “Ellie, that’s basketball, not baseball. Come on, please?” He turned his face up to give her puppy eyes.

“Get off! You are heavy!” Ell laughed, shoving at Steve’s shoulders.

“Please please please please please?” Steve asked, punctuating each please with a poke to El’s side. 

El collapsed to the side with a bright giggle, shaking her head rapidly back and forth, making her curls bounce. Never one to be outdone, she poked Steve back. “No no no no no no! We are watching my show!”

Hopper dried the last dish and wandered into the living room, settling into the armchair and ready to make sure his kids didn’t kill each other.

Steve just grinned at El, shrugging nonchalantly. “Sorry, Ellie, not ticklish.”

“What is ‘ticklish’?”

“When I poked you and you laughed just now? That’s because your tummy is ticklish,” Steve explained, poking El again.

She grinned, then pushed his hand away with a pout. “But you are not? Ticklish?”

“Nope,” Steve said. Hopper watched as he bit down on the left side of his bottom lip. Hop snorted. Steve couldn’t lie to anybody, except maybe El.

Both of their heads whipped around to look at Hopper. Steve looked indignant. “What? I’m not!” he protested, still biting down on the corner of his lip.

“You can’t lie for shit kid,” Hop chuckled. He turned to El, patiently explaining, “Sometimes, a person can hold back their laughter when tickled in certain places. That just means you have to find the place where they can’t help but giggle.”

El looked like Christmas came early, while Steve’s face turned bright red. El turned to Steve, “Where? Where where where?” Poking at his ribs and neck, where Hop knew El herself was ticklish.

Steve’s eyes widened, before he gently pushed her hands away. “Sorry Ellie. Some people are like that, yeah, but some people just aren’t ticklish.”

“Some people, maybe, but not you,” Hop snickered as Steve shot a glare his way.

“Hop doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Steve protested loudly, trying to catch El’s hands as they started poking with renewed vigor.

“Oh no?” Hop asked. He surveyed Steve with a critical eye. “El, try behind his knees.”

“Hop!” Steve yelped incredulously, before promptly launching himself off the couch with a shriek as El did just that.

Hop chuckled to himself as Steve immediately shot to his feet, making a mad dash for his room. Unfortunately for him, Hopper had the reflexes of a parent, and shot his arm out to snag Steve around the waist before hauling him into his lap.

“Wait wait wait, Hop don’t, please, please I’ll die, just wahahahahait!” Steve collapsed into bubbly laughter as Hop’s fingers fluttered behind his knee, kicking out at nothing.

El let out a delighted gasp. “You lied! Friends don’t lie!” And she ran over to shove her fingers behind Steve’s other knee.

Steve’s laughter doubled as he visibly tried to hold back his kicks so as not to hurt El. “Nohohohohoo! Plehehease, I’m sohohohorry!

“Now that we've got him giggling,” Hopper explained over Steve’s protests, “He probably can’t hold back when we do this.” Hop dug into Steve’s tummy and raked his fingernails in towards Steve’s belly button, prompting an actual scream from Steve before he started cackling.

El happily flapped her hands at Steve’s reactions as she moved up to spider her fingers along his neck and collar bones. Steve scrunched up, trying to block El’s fingers but only succeeding in trapping them against his sensitive skin.

Steve had apparently lost the ability to form words, and when Hop saw the first tears trickle down from the corners of his eyes, he slowed his hands. “Okay, okay El. He’s had enough,” Hop said, using his thumb to wipe away Steve’s tears of mirth. El retracted her hands and resumed flapping happily, climbing onto the arm of the chair that wasn’t occupied by Steve.

Hop tried rubbing a soothing hand up and down Steve’s back, but he arched away with a giggle. “Jesus, kid, is there anywhere you aren’t ticklish?” Hop asked. Steve stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, but wordlessly moved Hopper’s hand to his hair. Hop took the hint and started scritching lightly at Steve’s scalp. Steve melted into Hopper with a sigh. El, feeling left out, dragged Hopper’s other hand to her own head, where he obligingly gave her the same treatment. 

Hopper pressed kisses to the crowns of both of their heads and tried to chisel the moment into his memories. His thoughts strayed to Sarah, as they often did these days. He hoped she was proud of him. As his other kids’ breaths evened out, he let himself think of her smile. Wherever she was, Hopper hoped she knew he missed her. 

He liked to think she had a hand in El and Steve coming into his life.

#stranger things #tickle fic #ticklish el #ticklish steve #jim hopper #tickling #steve gets the family he deserves #tfb community #stranger things fic #stranger things tickle fic #shocking that this isn't steddie #i know #enjoy!

[amazingmsme]

Showing the Ropes

AN: Still trying to catch up😭 I’m just like that bitch with his rock fr. Finish one fic post it, start the next one & it’s already the next day. Post THAT fic & you’re still the same amount behind because that’s how the passage of time works. Through gritted teeth: I love being a writer. In all honesty tho, I love tickletober it’s just a very shit time in my life & this is how I cope. This fic came out way better than I expected, just cause I’m not real big on writing for Mike. Idk what it is about him, but I always feel iffy about his characterization. But this is just a really cute & silly moment between him, El & Nancy.

Mike didn't even know how long they'd been going at it, but he knew one thing for sure: he was going to die. They were going to kill him right then and there.

Nancy was walking through the living room while they were watching a movie and she noticed the way El poked and scribbled lazily at his sides and tummy, eliciting the occasional choked off giggle.

"I can give you some pointers if you want," she had offered out of the blue, catching the both of them extremely off guard. Mike was rightfully mortified while El cocked her head like a curious puppy.

"Pointers?" she questioned, unsure what the older teen could mean. Nancy rolled her eyes fondly and made her way to the couch.

"No, go away! Don't you have a paper to write?" he snarked. El elbowed him in the ribs.

"Mike, don't be rude," she softly scolded. Nancy smirked.

"He's just cranky 'cause he knows what's coming," she teased. Mike glared at her, long and hard. They stared at each other, locked in a stalemate. In the end, it was Mike who broke it off, trying to make a run for it. She easily caught him by the back of his shirt, yanking him back, "God, you're so predictable."

"Nancy, let go! I'm serious!"

"That's the problem, isn't it? He's always so serious," she joked, shooting a wink towards El as she wrestled her brother back on the couch. She managed to pin him underneath her, Mike's constant struggling making it a little difficult for her. He wasn't as small as he used to be, now he was all gangly limbs and much taller.

"Wanna help?" Nancy asked, and El's face lit up.

"I'd love to!"

"Nohoho El don't! She's evil!" he protested, a few nervous giggles slipping past his lips.

"She's nice to me," she reasoned as she helped hold Mike's arms above his head. Nancy gave her a thumbs up before turning "serious."

"Any time you need to keep him in check, just do this," she said matter of factly. El nodded, listening intently. Mike shook his head, knowing where she was going with this.

"Nancy, don't! Whatever it is I did I'm sorry!" he cried, sure she was doing this as some kind of revenge for something he must've done. That's how it usually went, anyway. Nancy laughed in amusement.

"See? We haven't even touched him and he's already begging," she teased and El giggled along, making him blush. "But you didn't do anything- this time. Just thought El could use a leg up in your tickle fights." The comment caused a faint dusting of pink to grace El's cheeks as well.

"She does fine! Don't you El?" he asked, hoping for his girlfriend to be on his side. She just smiled at him and shrugged.

"I kinda wanna see where she's going with this. And just like that, his fate was sealed.

Nancy rolled up his shirt, anticipatory giggled building up in his chest. She made a show of drawing in a deep breath before bending down to blow a raspberry on his bare belly. Mike was immediately launched into a bout of hysterics. Unable to protect himself, he chose instead to hide his face behind his outstretched arm.

Nancy blew a few more raspberries, shaking her head and growling playfully. Mike screeched, head tossed back as loud, carefree laughter burst free from his throat. He tried to plead for mercy, but every attempt at speech was lost to an incoherent giggling babble.

Nancy pulled away to give him a breather, though it didn't last nearly as long as Mike had hoped.

"Your turn!" Nancy's chipper voice sent a strong sense of dread through his entire body. El's grin overtook her features as she swapped places with Nancy. Her eyes were alight with mischief, scanning her prey carefully.

"So I take a deep breath and just... blow?" El asked. Nancy nodded in encouragement.

"Yeah, but you need to do it directly on the skin. Like this," Nancy demonstrated again, scooping her little brother in her arms unexpectedly and blew a raspberry on his neck, making him scream much too close to her ears, but that was her own doing.

El giggled, taking the advice to heart and putting it to good use.

Mike wasn't sure how he was still alive, in all honesty.

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 23 #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #el hopper #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things tickle fic #ticklish!mike

[cringemesstickles]

Friends Don’t Lie

(TickleTober Day 9: Lie)

Summary: Will lies about being ticklish. His siblings decide a punishment is in order

Pairings: None

Word Count: 759

A/N: I knew I had to do something stranger things related when I saw this prompt and there’s not enough fics of them, so here we are. Enjoy the wholesome family bonding :’)

———————————————————

The Byers’ living room was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the chilly fall weather. Will, Jonathan, and Eleven were sprawled out on the carpet, a board game spread out before them.

The Byers had recently taken Eleven in as their adopted sister and she was already starting to feel at home.

Ready to make her next move, she reached across the board to grab her game piece, accidentally brushing against Will’s wrist in the process.

Her head perked up when she heard a giggle, the youngest Byers jolting and quickly pulling his hand back.

Now, Eleven wasn’t a stranger to tickling. She had gotten into tickle fights many of times, mostly with Mike. She always had a feeling Will was ticklish, but now she was certain.

Suddenly disinterested in the game, she focused all her attention on her brother, eyes glittered with curiosity.

“Will, are you ticklish?”

Will’s cheeks turned a shade redder and his eyes widened, taken aback by the playful question.

“No, I’m not! You just scared me, that’s all…” he said hastily, avoiding eye contact.

Jonathan looked up from the game, raising an eyebrow.

“Since when are you not ticklish?”

Will’s eyes darted towards his older brother, heart racing with suspense.

“Since… forever?”

He tried to sound casual, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Jonathan smirked, sensing the opportunity for some fun.

“Oh really? Because I remember when I used to chase you around the house and tickle you until you couldn’t breathe.”

Eleven’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Friends don’t lie, Will.”

Will groaned, burying his face in a cushion. “Oh no.”

Seeing the gleam in El’s eyes, Jonathan grinned.

“You know, El, I think Will could use a little reminder of the rules around here.”

Eleven nodded, trying to hold back her giggles.

Suddenly, the two pounced, fingers wiggling wherever they could reach.

“Ah! No, w-wahahait!” Will yelped, trying to wriggle away. But it was two against one, and he didn’t stand a chance.

Jonathan managed to pin one of Will’s arms down while Eleven attacked his sides, making him burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“G-Guys, I cahahahan’t!” he squealed, kicking his legs out and futility tugging at his arm.

“Admit it,” The girl said, trying to speak through her own laughter. “You’re ticklish!”

Will’s face was bright red, eyes sparkling with mirth as he squirmed hopelessly under his siblings, embarrassed but enjoying the bonding moment nonetheless.

Jonathan’s heart also warmed at the sight, taking in the pure innocence and silliness that the three of them were engaged in. Life had been dark and scary the past few years and it was nice to take part in something ridiculous for a change.

Besides, it had been too long since he’d tickled his little brother, and if he could lend El some useful tickling tips, that was even better.

Getting that very idea, he gave a devious smirk and glanced at their adopted sister.

“Hey, El, try his stomach.”

Will’s giggling increased at the anticipation, his slightly watery eyes widening with dreadful excitement.

“Nonononono, don’t l-listen to hihihim!”

The brown haired girl pretended to ponder, though she had no intention on giving mercy.

“Jonathan, didn’t lie to me, Will.” Raising her hands, she wiggled them just above Will’s tummy, a trick she’d learned from Mike.

The youngest Byers grew more frantic in his squirming, eyes locked onto the wiggling digits.

“EEK- I’m sorry, I’m sohOHORRY!!” He threw his head back with a shriek when El’s surprisingly vigorous fingers made contact with his stomach, wriggling and scratching the soft skin.

Jonathan laughed at his brother’s reaction, all too familiar with which spot got which response.

“Ah, the classic Will Byers shriek… never gets old.” He teased, watching the younger boy’s face turn even redder from embarrassment.

After awhile, the two finally relented and let their brother go.

“Have fun, Will?” Jonathan asked with a smirk, arms crossed as he watched the boy catch his breath.

Will laid there panting dramatically, cheeks still flushed from the laughter.

“No... You guys are mehehean..”

Eleven narrowed her eyes, unconvinced by the statement. “Friends don’t lie, Will…” she glared playfully, raising her hands to threateningly wiggle her fingers once again.

Will giggled more and squirmed away, wrapping his arms defensively around himself.

“Eep- Okay, Okahahay, it was r-really fuhuhun!”

The girl lowered her hands triumphantly and smiled, clearly pleased with herself.

And so, the trio continued to strengthen their bond as siblings; whether it be by board games, banter, or even a good old fashioned tickle attack.

#mess writes #tickletober2023 #tickletober #augtickletober2023 #tktober #tktober2023 #lee!will #ticklish!will #lee!will byers #ticklish!will byers #ler!eleven #ler!el #ler!jonathan #stranger things tickles #stranger things tickling #st tickling #tickle community #tword content #sfw tickling #tickles #tickle fic

[tickletastic]

Could you write a drabble of Connor Kent finding out that Tim Drake is ticklish and making him rate his ticklish spots while Connor tickles his armpits, ribs, sides, and feet?

AN: Anon??? This is such a cute prompt?????? Thank you????

"Kon, no. This is silly," Tim says, a giggle already on his lips. He runs across the room, putting himself in a position so the couch would be between himself and Kon. His hands are up in front of him, both of them knowing full well that Kon is not above jumping over the couch.

"A couch? Tim, are you for real?" Kon laughs, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head, "it's almost like you're just begging me to use my TTK."

Tim's eyes widen, a blush growing on his cheeks, "you wouldn't."

Kon sends a wink his way, putting the sunglasses down on the coffee table and whipping his jacket off onto the couch, "oh, I so would."

"So, would you prefer that I tickle you with my hands," Kon says, wiggling his fingers in the air, "or with my powers?"

Tim feels the ghosting of a finger poking his side, and he flinches almost unnoticeable. "Yohou know what?" Tim says, pretending to be interested in the options, "I think neither would be fantastic."

"Robin, sometimes you just make this too easy."

Tim suddenly feels the sensation of fingers running up his sides, digging into each rib once they reach them. Tim squeals, batting away hands that aren't there, giggles peppered with snorts.

"Kohohohon nohoho!" Tim shrieks, turning in circles as if it would help rid him of the sensation.

"Does it tickle, Tim? How bad, hmm?" Kon teases, smirking as Tim writhes where he stands, giggling hysterically.

"Bahahad! Stahahap! Plehehease!" Tim squeals, Kon's fingers rising higher and higher.

"How about," Kon grins, "we do a scale from 1-10? 10 being 'I'm dying', you know, because you inherited dramatics from Dick, and 0 being 'meh, I could handle it'. Sounds good?"

"Nohohoho! Plehease nohoho!"

"Alright, a 'yes' it is." Kon laughs to himself, he focuses his powers at Tim's sides again, cooing when Tim lets out a tiny hiccup. "Give me a number, Timmy."

"Ahahaha, nohoho!"

"If you don't then I just won't stop," Kon teases before managing to make a sensation similar to a raspberry on Tim's side.

"Cahahan't! Ihihihi cahahan't! I-" Tim snorts, throwing himself onto the couch, "ahaha fohohour!"

"A four? I think we could do better, don't you, Timmers?"

Tim feels the sensation move up to his ribs, and his laughter is once again characterised by non-stop, high-pitched snorts. "S- SEHEHEVEN!"

Kon grins, "getting warmer... How about here?"

Tim squeals, falling to the ground when he feels the sensations move to under his arms. He throws his head back slamming his fists on the ground as he tries desperately to rid himself of the sensations. "KOHOHON PLEHEHEASE!"

"A number, my dear, Tim, a number."

"TEHEHEN! TEHEHEN! I- NO- PLE- KOHOHOHON!"

"Okay, okay," Kon laughs, "no need to get your panties in a twist, just one more spot."

When Tim feels the sensations move to his feet, still in his shoes and socks but somehow feeling like skin-on-skin, he loses it. He screams before dissolving into frantic, silent laughter, going limp where he had curled up on the floor.

"Last one, Tim." Kon reassures, walking over to Tim and running his fingers through the black hair while his powers do their work. "Gotta give me a number, bud."

"TEHEHEN! TEHEHEN!"

"But the last one was a ten," Kon giggles.

"THEHEN- AHAHAHA- TEHEHEN AND A HAHAHAHALF!"

"Alright, alright," Kon says, using the TTK to get Tim on his lap, still running his hand through the wavy black hair.

"Yohoho- yohohu're evil," Tim giggles into Kon's stomach, fists balling up into Kon's shirt.

"Well, I am half Lex Luthor, gotta use the evil for good."

"Ohoho my gohohod," Tim giggles, "rehehemind me tohoho never get ihihinto it wihihit Lehehex."

#wwanon #ask #ticklish!tim #lee!tim #conner kent #tim drake #dc #batman #batfamily #young justice didn't do sassy + sarcastic kon justice #kon el #superboy #robin #red robin

[hazmatazz]

hi mike's ticklish btw. when lucas, dustin, or maybe even max get annoyed w him they attack his sides

#el's also ticklish. so is lucas but nobody but max knows that (she tickles him to bug him) #stranger things #babble #mike wheeler

[evilhorse]

Talk about our ticklish jobs!

#world’s best comics #superman #clark kent #kal el #rescue #flood #ticklish #strong #jerry siegel #paul cassidy #dc comics #comics #40s comics #golden age comics

[astralnymphh]

imagineee ellie w reader who loves to do her makeup n she just staring at you like a lil puppy in awe

ellie is just so engrossed in the process that she can't help but be a little handsy. ౨ৎ

her shoulder kissed to the door trim, slanting against it a mere foot from you at best, a looming pest over your shoulder— snaking her foot out to prod your ankle with it, mumbling n' chuckling, "what eyeliner you going for?" cause, i think she's pretty used to watching you. watching the dance of wrist and finger, stick and plume, powder and cream— observing the slow metamorphosis of natural into painted, adoring every flick and every stroke, tries to join in too. "d'you want some color here," her collarbones cave over the jut of your shoulder, her bicep warm to your chest as she ghosts the plumage of a fat blush brush, "or here?" she tilts her rasp. "els', that's a blush brush, and you are not applying eyeshadow to—" you tuck your chin and slink from the ticklish bristles, only to be piloted with her cold fingerprints pressing around the plum of your chin, "babe—" her low tone buzzes, "know' what m'doing." the pressure given on your jaw steering you yonder to stare at her, bemusedly, blank canvas eyes, but goddess-damned does her concentrated, pursing brows carving little lines 'tween them, heady mix of fern and gold flecks in her eyes, small tip of her coral tongue gliding through her lips and sticking out the side, wriggle of her mud stippled nose pulling with the tug of her cheeks fattening a smirk, all those damned things you love. who could say no? not me, not you, not us. ellie being thickly diligent and fixated hard on your bend of face, stroking it featherily, legit hunched at her spine all to replicate your art on face— is so goddamn cute, brushing the plume across your cheeks. "there." hummed nasally, and when you flip a look into the mirror, you're proud. your little auburn artist has made you something of a practiced canvas, albeit a little funky-going with the blush brush, but thank mother nature and the celestials above that she actually chose a shade of eyeshadow barely pigmented and shaded correctly to mimic a humble blush right to your skintone. and of course the split second your lips curl and allow the honeyed push of, "fuck, els, that looks goo—" to fall from them, her nose is already being smushed up against the space of cheek-to-ear, wetting a kiss upon your baby hairs, cockily replying, "yeah yeah, told you i knew what i was doin." and hooking a finger in your belt loop, yanking your hips an inch closer— only to be playful.

she can do my makeup w those bare hands idc massage them in my cheeks queen both of them

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams concept #modern!ellie #modern!ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie williams tlou

[outsideratheart]

41 with Alexia

41 //looking at their lips as they talk// 

The sun shon bright in the Barcelona sky as you stood pitch side ready to report on the infamous El Classico. It was a match that you loved to play in but you picked up a serious ankle injury a couple of months ago and you weren’t quite fit to play or even to train yet.

5-0 was the end result yet throughout the halftime and post match media you tried your best to remain fair even though everybody knew you bled Blaugrana.

Like always the team did a lap of the pitch. You knew they were getting close as the fans behind the camera erupted, all of them wanting a shirt signed or a photo with their favourite player. So whilst you did expect to see one or maybe two of your team mates what you didn’t expect was to feel a hand of the small of your back and the sight of Alexia standing next to you. Here she was, the woman who hated doing media with every fibre of her being, voluntarily giving an interview.

“Ladies and Gentleman, La Reina herself”

The use of the nickname she loved to hate earned you a playful shove.

One of the official presenters made the most of having both you and Alexia in an interview given that you hadn’t done for in months. Much to you surprise Alexia was in a chatty mood and you spent most of the interview taking in her beauty. It wasn’t a huge secret that you and her were dating but you never got round to doing a hard launch so to say.

You notice some of Alexia’s hair fall in front of her face so as if by instinct you place it gently behind her ear. This earns you a look off Alexia as if saying are you going to do what happens next when you do this at home. It’s safe to say the thought did cross your mind but you knew now wasn’t the time or place. It didn’t stop you from glancing down at her lips as she spoke about how proud she is of the team. Her passion is one of the things you loved most about her and you know the look in your eyes will show this but you didn’t mind.

Alexia’s hand squeezes your hip, an act which she knows will earn a reaction given you’re ticklish.

“Que?”

“La pregunta?”

You turn your attention to the presenter and it’s clear she asked you question.

“Lo siento” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise. Alexia gave us everything we need about the game and I’m sure you gave us enough material to make the fans happy”

You both thank the presenter and Alexia waits whilst you give back your mic pack. The two of you are some of the last players on the pitch and walk into the tunnel together. Even though you weren’t playing you did plan on joining in on the locker room celebration but just before you reach the door Alexia grabs your wrist and pulls you back to her.

“What?”

“I thought maybe you wanted to look at my lips some more seen as though you refused to look at anything else out there”

“Why you got to call me out like that?”

“I’m not. I’m simply giving you a chance to do something other than stare”

Alexia’s lips was on yours before you had to chance to reply. She has you pinned against the wall with no care in the world who could see you. Alexia rested one hand against the wall beside your head and her other grabbed your hip. Yours travelled up her back beneath her loosely fitted leather jacket.

For a brief moment you forget where you were and when you felt Alexia’s tongue brush against you lips you allowed her entry.

“Well well well, look what we have here. Our dear captains the celebration are in the locker room but I can see that you are having a very good time out here in the hallway” Mapi says rather smugly.

“Leave them alone Maria” Ingrid pushes her towards the locker room “Not that I want to interrupt but the rest of the team is on there way so you might want to go somewhere else if you want to continue”

All three of you begin laughing at the situation and whilst you wanted nothing more than to pick you where you were before getting interrupted, you knew that it was best to be done at home away from prying eyes and teasing team mates.

#prompt request #ficlet #alexia Putellas x reader #woso x reader

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Aaron Quotes

men who are just constantly tired of everything>>>>>

“Well buckle up, wiz kid.”

“So yeah, I am gonna miss you. I’m really gonna miss you.”

“Sue me. Except don’t. My brain is already fried from the financials, I don’t need to throw legalese on top of that.”

“Fuck it. There’s nothing in here I can’t replace. I want you."

“Oliver”

“I didn’t say I wanted to spend the day with you, I asked if you wanted to spend the day with me. I asked first.”

"Ell"

“Hey, stop it. Because you know how much I like you running your fingers through my hair. Makes my brain go all fuzzy.”

“I appreciate it. And you.”

“Oh, it’s not playing dirty. It’s just me making you feel good.”

“I didn’t realise I was apparently dating an anthropomorphic backpack.”

“H-hey—stop it. You—no, your kisses are just… it tickled. Shut up. So what if my sides are ticklish, it’s not like that’s weird, you shit.”

“Oh, and now you can’t even find the strength to lift your head out of my lap, hmm? You poor thing. Who knew that being lazy could be so exhausting?”

“I love you very much. Now get off me.”

“You talked a big talk back then. But it turns out you’re just a cuddle-hungry softy after all, huh? Yes you are. At least when you’re still sleepy, anyway.”

“I also know you’re probably the kind to fly off half-cocked and make me chase you down with the SPF 50 like a madman. If for no other reason than to infuriate me.”

“Come here. Come closer. Because I said so.”

“I love you. And I love rain. And I love being with the person I love while it rains. Isn’t that a fun little combo?”

“You are very cute looking up at me like that.”

“Or is the thought of a few more minutes in my arms that much of an imposition? Asshole. Mmm. I love you too.”

“I can’t even try to say a nice thing without you having to get some snark into it, can I? No, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You brat. I love you just as you are.”

“You make me better. And that’s no small order when you’re talking about me, given the high level I already started at.”

“A man’s gotta eat. And you’ve always been my favorite thing on the menu.”

“Oh yes, you’re so put upon. Your evil boyfriend only makes you a whole breakfast spread, he won’t then also let you sleep in even later than you already have.”

“Eli”

“Yes, in a shocking twist, I do find your absence unpleasant. Perish the thought, right?”

“Time spent with the people I care about is important to me. It doesn’t have to be time doing anything special, it doesn’t have to be conversations about our future or some greater purpose or any of that shit, I just want to be with the person that I’m with.”

“Sure, there are plenty of ways to sleep on a couch just fine. It’s your hybrid approach that lands somewhere between gymnast and pretzel that tends to get you in trouble.”

“You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“If it feels like it's coming on again, come tell us, okay?”

“I only met them a handful of times. They're sweet. They laugh a lot. They spent most of the time giving Elliott shit, it was funny. Not in like a mean way, like the way you do when you love somebody that much. They were a good balance for one another.”

“God I sound old. And I feel old. And I’m not, but it feels like it. A grumpy old man. Might as well start yelling at kids to not play so loud in the neighborhood, really complete the image.”

“Stop calling me an old man, only I’m allowed to call me old. Don’t be mean. I’m in a vulnerable state. I need baseless praise.”

“Yes. Holding you feels very productive.”

“Yeah. Let me just rub it on that pretty face for a little bit…”

“ It’d be fine. Almost as fine as you. I’m tired, I’m allowed to be stupid.”

“El, I have never hated you. You’re my little brother, I love you.”

“No the windows are mirrored glass. You should know that, you worked here.”

“Whose is it? Louder”

“Thank you baby. Yeah, thank you for trusting me like you do. […] All I wanna do is prove myself worthy of that trust.”

#haven’t don’t one of these in a while #been busy okay #redacted aaron #bubbler’s top quotes #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse

[whoiseduardito]

ME DA ESTA PIEZA?

pairing: miguel o'hara x latina!fem reader warn: green flag miguel, luis miguel's music, miguel is not traumatized, his parents were good parents and loved each other dearly. theme: domestic.

the room filled with the familiar oranges, a vivid tint on the walls, she stands up from the bed, she just needed his touch, she needed a hug.

"mi reina" his mask dissolved, his eyes had heavy bags below them

"let me guess, more anomalies?"

"si" he sighed, walking towards her, kissing her forehead "i'm beat." he hid his face on her hair, inhaling her scent.

"look, how about you go to take a bath, while i make you something to eat?" miguel huffed

"mi reina, son como las 12" he murmured "go to sleep, i'll join you right now."

"have you eaten anything today? eh?" he froze, knowing he can't lie to y/n "eso es lo que pense, amor." she kissed his cheek, only to walk away, but miguel grasped her hand, pulling her softly back to him.

"y/n, it's not necesary, me recalentare algo."

"no." she pulled him in, kissing his lips softly, his pout being noticed on his lips, his hands nestled in her waist

"bueno, pero, podría pagarte con una pieza?"

"una pieza? there's not even music-" she chuckled when miguel began kissing her neck, and began twirling her around. "miguel-"

"lyla put some music." he murmured against her ticklish skin,

"on it!" the small hologram appeared "how about some luis miguel?"

"perfect" he hummed, all while cradlying her face, and tenderly kissing her lips, and swaying with her softly.

the song began with some classical instruments, miguel swayed with you, and then luis miguel's voice began melodiously lulling you both onto a pace

'Y me muero por llevarte al rincón de mi guarida En donde escondo un beso con matiz de una ilusión'

miguel kissed your head, leaning his head onto your hair, pulling you onto his chest, you both swayed to the romantic song.

'Se nos va acabando el trago, sin saber que es lo que hago Si contengo mis instintos o jamás te dejo ir'

"...y es que no sabes lo que tú me haces sentir" he singed softly, chuckling "did you know, my mom love's luismi? she would always play his music while cooking, and you know what my papá would do?" he twirled her and swayed with her.

"he would hug her from behind.." miguel changed your position "and would kiss her." he peppered your face with kisses "and he would help her cook." the couple swayed until the song finished

"mi reina, how would a shared bath sound?"

#miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse

[rosiesramblings]

Overworked

Set in the "Steve Is Forcibly Adopted" universe, a few months after they are all living in the cabin.

Stranger Things

WC: 1k

A/N: This was the original scene that inspired my Adopted!Steve fic. I recommend reading that one first :)

Steve didn’t even realize that the whole day had passed until he heard Hop’s key in the cabin door. He rolled his neck and winced as it gave a painful pop. It seems he had unintentionally spent the entire day working on his college applications.

Hop knocked on the door of Steve’s room and pushed it open, and El followed him in with a serious expression on her face. Steve half-glanced at them and mumbled a greeting before turning back to the pile of papers on his desk.

El spoke first. “You have spent the whole day in here. It is time for a break.”

Steve hummed absentmindedly. “Sure thing, El, just give me a few more minutes.”

If Steve had been facing her he would have seen the look of mischief and determination that flashed over her face. “Hop. Steve skipped lunch. And he only had coffee for breakfast.”

At those words, Steve went still, the tips of his ears turning red. Hop’s eyebrows climbed high on his forehead. “Is that true, Steve?”

Steve whirled around, face as red as his ears, and he babbled, “Wait, no it’s - well I mean - I just had to -” he turned to El. “You said you wouldn’t say anything! What happened to ‘friends don’t lie’?”

El smirked in a way that told Steve she was about to repeat something Max had told her. “Friends don’t lie. But sisters do.” Steve suddenly felt himself getting up out of his chair and walking over to plop on the bed next to Hopper. 

“Hey! No powers! This is cheating!” Steve yelped as his arms gently raised themselves above his head.

“El, what have we talked about?” Hopper asked sternly.

El pouted. “Consent and respect for boundaries.”

“Right. So what am I going to say?”

“Not to use my powers on Steve when he hasn’t consented.”

“Thank you,” Hop said as El released Steve, who shook out his hands and wrapped his arms around himself in a hug. Hop nodded his approval at El, and then turned his attention back to his eldest.

“Kid, did we or did we not just have a conversation last week about not overworking yourself? Especially while you’re still healing?” Hopper asked.

Steve squirmed under the weight of Hopper’s stare. “Well, I mean, we did but -”

“No buts,” El said. That had quickly become a favorite phrase ever since Lucas introduced it to her a month ago.

Hop sighed, but Steve could see his eyes twinkling and that reassured him that he wasn’t really in trouble. “What are we gonna do with you, kiddo?”

“He needs tickles,” El said sagely, making a bunch of butterflies erupt in Steve’s tummy. Steve’s eyes got big.

“What? No! I don’t, I’m sorry, I promise, I’ll take a break or whatever -”

“Too late for that, bud. You must need a reminder about not overdoing it,” Hop said, grinning.

“I don’t, I don’t, please Hop I’m sorry, just dohohohon’t,” Steve started giggling before Hopper had even touched him, fingers wiggling threateningly. Steve hugged himself tighter, as if he had any chance of guarding every one of his tickle spots..

Gently, Hop pushed Steve down onto the bed and dug his fingers into Steve’s ribs. Steve broke immediately, letting out a cackle that had him turning red from embarrassment. In the months he had been living with Hopper and El, the chief had worked out all the spots that would leave Steve in hysterics.

El bounced happily on her toes, delighted with Steve’s laughter. She pried one of his hands away from his ribs and began tracing the lines on his palms lightly, which made Steve shriek and start to let out bubbly giggles.

“How’s it going, there, kiddo? You getting the message yet?” Hopper asked through a grin.

“Yes yehehehehes yehehehes I am! Prohohohohomise!” Steve laughed.

“Yeah? Tell me, then, why is it important to take breaks?”

“Cause - cahahause people neheheheed to eat and sleheheheep and relahahahax or they get sihihick,” Steve grumbled through his giggles.

“Yup. And are we ever going to get mad at you for taking a break when you need one? Hop asked, scribbling his fingers over Steve’s tummy and down to his hips.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO,” he wailed as he arched his back.

Hopper graciously chose to interpret that as an answer to his question rather than a protest.

“And do we want to set a good example for our younger friends?” Hop asked, at this point just messing with his kid to prolong the playfulness. Hopper drilled his fingers under his boy’s arms, one of his favorite of Steve’s spots because he would always shake his head back and forth reflexively.

“Ye - YEHEHEHES - HOP PLEHEHEHEHEASE,” Steve begged through his laughter. “NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!”

Hop pulled his fingers away with a smile, and El dropped Steve’s hand, which he immediately rubbed on the bed to try and rid himself of the feeling. Hop pulled Steve up into a hug, scratching his head the way Hop knew made him melt. 

Steve sighed and burrowed into Hopper’s shoulder, and El hooked one of her arms through Steve’s. Everything settled, residual giggles petering out and long, even breaths taking their place.

“Hop?” Steve mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah bud?”

“El didn’t keep the door open three inches when Mike came over last week.”

El launched herself up with a squawk. “Steve! You - “ she abandoned whatever she was going to say in favor of running out of the room, throwing wary glances at Hop’s hands. They both laughed. He’d get her in a moment.

He gave Steve one last squeeze. “I’m proud of you, kiddo. Try and get some rest while I deal with your sister. I’ll wake you for dinner when it’s ready.”

Steve was already asleep.

#tickle fic #stranger things tickle fic #ticklish!steve harrington #the autistic el hopper agenda never sleeps #tickling #tfb community #hop brings out my attachment issues lol #enjoy!

[amazingmsme]

Laying My Love On You

AN: Still catching up, hang in there! Here’s day 22 with Steven & Layla! Just some really cute fluff for the cute boi. & yes it’s a fucking Mamma Mia reference, eat your heart out.

Layla had brought it up to him while they were out running errands, and Marc had to admit the idea amused him greatly. Mostly because he knew from experience how lovingly cruel she could be, and well, Steven had been rather annoying and sulky lately. How he could still be hung up over a damn fish for this long was behind him. Regardless, he had this coming.

She'd said that Steven accidentally let slip that he's rather ticklish, but immediately realized his mistake and forced Marc out instead. He'd been subtly trying to avoid her ever since. Or not so subtle, it would seem.

They were sitting on the couch, a rerun of the Halloween Baking Championship playing in the background.

"You ready?" she whispered, lips barely ghosting over the shell of his ear. He shivered.

"Yeah, but I don't think I'm the one you should be asking," Marc chuckled, allowing her to straddle him and pin his arms to his sides.

Steven was abruptly shoved out. At first, he worried something might be wrong, but then he felt soft lips pepper his neck with tickly kisses.

"Whaha- Lahayla! Ihit's mehehe!" he cried out, as if he could never be the intended target.

"Aw, did Marc not warn you?" she asked, her tone clearly mocking. "You just thought you could hide forever, huh? Or at least until I'd forget about how you're, how did you put it? "Devastatingly ticklish?"" she quoted, a devilish grin spreading across her face. Steven went pale.

"Did- did I say that? That's seems like an exaggeration-" he cut himself off with a giggly squeal when her lips connected with his neck.

"No you definitely said that. It's been ingrained in my memory," she spoke against his skin, the vibrations causing giggles to bubble up in his throat.

She trailed kisses from his jawline down to his collarbone, enjoying every shriek, gasp and squeal he let out. She smirked, "And judging by your reactions, I'd say you were spot on," she teased, mouthing at his Adams apple. He threw his head back and cackled in response.

"Ohoho cohohome ohon, d-don't tease!" he pleaded through helpless laughter. She couldn't help but laugh along.

"Aw, but why not? Does it make it woooorse?" she cooed in a high pitched voice. Steven blushed and tried to scrunch his neck.

"Yehehes ohokahahay?" he whined, burying his face in his hands to hide. Layla scoffed, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away.

"You've been hiding for far too long, I wanna see you smile," she said in a honey sweet tone.

"I-I just thought Marc deserved to be out while you're here," he stuttered out, his honestly surprising them both.

"You know I want to spend time with you too, right?" she asked softly. Steven shrugged.

"Well, yeah, but he's the one you married," he pointed out sheepishly. "Just figured you'd rather be with him," he said quietly.

Steven heard a scoff from his left. He looked to the side to see Marc staring at him from a decorative mirror on the adjacent wall. He furrowed his brows, as if questioning him. Marc wore a smug smirk and said, "That sounds like a pretty flimsy excuse for swapping places in the middle of a tickle attack. You deserve this."

Steven was about to defend himself, yelping instead when Layla grabbed him by the hips and tugged so he was laying flat on his back. Before he could ask what she was doing, his shirt was being taken off. Her lips kissed from the base of his neck down his chest as breathy snickers and squeals filled the air.

With the trail of ticklish kisses she left in her wake, it wasn't hard to guess where her next target was.

"Lahahaylahaha nohoho! Nohohot my tuhummyyy!" he whined, hands tangled in her hair as he weakly tried to shove her away, or at the very least redirect her to a different spot.

"Oh, did I find your tickle spot?" she taunted, nuzzling her face into the warm skin. He shrieked, deep belly laughter pouring freely from his mouth with the force of rushing rapids. Layla laughed, the vibrations sending tiny shocks through his system. "I'll take that as a yes!"

Layla was going to have a very fun night.

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 22 #steven grant #layla el faouly #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight tickle fic #ticklish!steven

[mudwerks]

(via Everything You Never Wanted to Know About the Lobotomy)

Walter Freeman, the P.T. Barnum of the lobotomy, pioneered the transorbital lobotomy, a simplified procedure that didn’t even require an operating room; he eschewed the formality and sterility of operating rooms, and would just lobotomize patients anywhere. In fact, it’s so efficient, Freeman could finish a lobotomy in under 10 minutes. Fun fact: Freeman had no formal surgical training.

These instructions are taken from Walter Freeman’s Psychosurgery by way of Jack El-Hai’s excellent biography The Lobotomist. If you were to follow them, you would be guilty of multiple crimes and someone would probably die.

The supplies needed

An icepick

A small hammer

An electroconvulsive therapy machine

The procedure

To perform a lobotomy, Freeman would:

Sterilize his icepick. Usually. Sometimes he didn’t bother.

Administer shocks of high-enough voltage to induce unconsciousness with an electroconvulsive therapy machine. Sometimes Freeman did it with no anesthesia, however.

Slide the icepick beneath the victim’s upper eyelid, next to the tear duct, keeping the shaft parallel to the bony ridge of the nose and aimed slightly away from the center of the head.

The tip of the icepick would now be resting against the thinnest portion of the skull. Freeman would give a light tap with a hammer to break through the bone.

Now he would be able to easily push the icepick into the brain. Freeman advised going 5cm deep. Not too deep, or the “patient” would probably die.

Pull the handle of the icepick “as far laterally as the rim of the orbit will permit.” This should sever the fibers at the base of the frontal lobe. Hopefully.

According to Freeman, this step is the “ticklish part” because arteries are in reach. He would return the instrument to its previous position and drive it further to a depth of 7cm from the margin of the upper eyelid. Then move the ice pick 15 to 20 degrees medially and about 30 degrees laterally. If this was done wrong, the person would die. If done correctly, they’d only maybe die.

Withdraw the icepick with a twisting motion while applying pressure on the eyelid to prevent hemorrhage.

Resterilize the icepick.

Repeat with the other eye. A true showman, Freeman would sometimes do both sides at once.

The lobotomy is now complete!

this is HORRIFYING

#Walter Freeman #the P.T. Barnum of the lobotomy #simple quick and fucking deadly dangerous #I repeat this is HORRIFYING

[tickletastic]

Carnival Mirrors

Fandom: Moon Knight

Ship: Marc and Steven/Layla

Summary: Marc takes advantage of the fact that he can use mirrors to talk to Steven, teasing him is so much easier when Marc can look him in the eyes. Day nine of Miya and Mia’s Tickletober: mirrors!

Over the past few days, Steven had been acting much differently. Not in a bad way, he wasn’t fearful or anxious like he could get at times, but in a nervous, flustered, anticipatory way; a way that had his ears turning red as soon as he caught Marc’s face in the mirror, speed walking past it in hopes that he hadn’t looked for too long. 

Marc, of course, had started this game between them, one that he seemed to be on the winning end of thus far. Steven couldn’t even spare him a glance, closing his eyes when he passed a reflective surface, breathing in sharply when the shiny black screen of his phone glared back at him. Marc managed to make every encounter entirely mortifying, teasing Steven about how red he had turned, or making a comment about how sensitive he is just about everywhere. 

They had promised they would stop fighting for the body, though of course there were times when the two of them couldn’t see eye to eye, struggling to decide whose turn was next, or which one of them had agreed to go out with Layla. During a grapple between the two of them, while Steven had been getting ready in the bathroom, Marc had managed to gain control of one of the arms. Steven had seen his mischievous expression in the mirror and just barely stopped himself from shuddering, desperately trying to capture the arm with the one he still had control of. 

The fight came to a screeching halt when the hand Marc had control of tweaked Steven’s side, sending him into a fit of giggles, backing up until his back had hit the bathroom wall. Marc didn’t stop, of course. In fact, he had continued to roam over Steven’s torso, teasing Steven for how hard he was laughing, how easily he had gone down. Something about being able to see Marc’s face, witnessing the fond eyes and teasing smile, made it entirely worse, and Steven found himself hysterical in minutes. The debacle ended with him conceding the body to Marc, who found himself panting from Steven’s residual laughter when he took control.

Since then, everytime Steven passed a mirror, or looked in a puddle, or saw his own face reflected in Gus’ fish tank, Marc would overpower an arm, reaching out to tickle Steven for a few seconds, keeping him on edge. Thus began this waltz between the two of them, Steven constantly avoiding his reflection while Marc tried to tease him until his blush lasted all day. 

Layla had noticed the change in Steven, though, noting it to be mostly harmless, she figured she shouldn’t push to know why he was suddenly so skittish. Honestly, it was kind of cute, the way he’d flinch away with a pitched giggle when she went in for a cuddle, or let breaths out of his nose when she would come towards him too suddenly. 

Now, while the two of them were having lunch on a gloomy autumn afternoon, Layla couldn’t help but observe another eccentricity. 

“Steven, you’ve got something on your face.”

Steven’s eyes widened, “do I? Let’s see.” He grabs a napkin and uses it to wipe around his mouth, hoping it was gone. 

“It’s still there,” Layla giggles, “it looks like it might be cream or something, have you been using the moisturizer I gave you?”

Steven’s cheeks turn pink, but he nods, a shy smile on his lips. Layla reaches out and tries to rub it away, but it seems to be dried up, and she is not going to do the mom thing, lest Marc make fun of her for the rest of their lives.

“I think it might be dried on,” Layla explains, “why don’t you take a look in the mirror and clean it off with some water?”

She notices that Steven, for some reason, blushes even more, his eyes looking down at the tablecloth. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth goes into a tight, straight line, “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Wha-?” Layla scoffs, “what do you mean you don’t think you will?”

“Well, I don’t think I will go look in the mirror and wipe it off.”

Layla scrunches her nose, tilting her head to the side as if examining Steven the way she examines the artifacts she’s known to hunt down. “Now, has Marc been teasing you?”

Steven somehow gets redder, sputtering out in a poor attempt to deflect, “no, why would he? I’m not scared of Marc, of course not.”

“Alright,” Layla says slowly, a grin on her lips, “then go wipe your face.”

Steven considers for a second, but resigns himself to his fate, knowing that eventually, he would have to look in the mirror. He walks slowly to the washroom, so slowly that Layla would almost think he’s going to face his own doom, and Steven thinks that, in a way, he is. 

It takes him nearly two minutes to work up the nerve to look back at Marc, practically already picturing the stupid smirk and teasy, upturned eyebrows before he even meets his eyes. When they do make eye contact, Steven knows that he’s done for. 

“Been avoiding me?” Marc asks, a mischievous hint in his voice. 

Steven plays dumb, waving a hand up dismissively, “What? Avoiding you? No, of course not.”

“You have been,” Marc sing-songs, “and I know why.” 

Steven’s eyes go wide when he realizes he’s losing feeling in his right hand, and he tries everything to get it back, all for naught. “Marc, no. Don’t you dare, Marc. I’m warning yo-”

Steven gets cut off by his own squeal, snorting as ‘Marc’s hand’ spiders over his ribs, tasering between them. He’s giggling, though still composed enough to continue fighting for control. 

“Oh no you don’t, Mr. Giggles,” Marc teases, “you’ve been avoiding me for so long, you’re not getting away so easy.”

Steven yelps when the hand rushes down to his side, a claw vibrating rapidly as he tries to wrestle the hand away. “Mahaharc nohoho!”

Marc laughs at Steven’s reactions, not humouring his begging. He believes he had waited long enough, lurking and waiting for Steven to look at him. He knows exactly how to take Steven apart, and he plans on doing it. 

Marc’s hand goes down to hover over Steven’s tummy, and he hunches over, desperately trying to block it out. “Marc, noho! Do not, Maharc!”

Marc sees through Steven’s demands and makes quick work scratching and pinching Steven’s sensitive tummy. Steven’s knees buckle, and he writhes desperately as he tries to pry the hand away.

He can’t even hear the knock on the bathroom door, or Layla calling his name. She opens the door to see Steven on the ground, giggling as seemingly his own hand tickles him. Layla puts the pieces together now: the skittishness, the giggling, the mirror aversion, and laughs fondly as she takes in the sight. 

“Layla, HEHELP MEHEHE!” Steven squeals, twisting around in any way he thinks might stop the torture. 

“Hmm,” Layla hums, assessing the situation, “I think I might be on Marc’s side for this one.”

When Layla leans down to add her fingers to the mix, Steven howls, pounding his fist against the floor. When the tickling is over, and he’s left a red, panting mess, giggling incrementally on the tiled floor, he can’t help but think that maybe he hadn’t actually minded it at all.

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #layla el faouly #ticklish!steven #ler!marc #ler!layla #tickletober #tickletober 2023 #miya&mia's tickletober

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Own The Pitch -P.G

Dear anon, I had a little trouble whilst writing, I had the "Publish" thing on and not the "Save draft" thing. So when I went to look for a Pablo pic, I pressed the button to "save" my work and it published 😭☠️ I had to delete it!🥴😭 I hope you see this and tell me what you think of the fic😊 I couldn't help but associate this request with Gender Reveal's world.

ALSO KNOWN AS GENDER REVEAL (5)!

Summary: It's time for Helena to own the pitch

You smiled watching your fourth year old daughter, Helena, run around the whole pitch with her father behind her as she tried to "escape" his ticklish hands, her laughter echoing the Camp Nou stadium as the guys celebrated another El Clásico win 5-1.

"Helena María, watch out, hija" You said watching how she stumbled a little not really paying attention to it but keeping on playing with her dad.

"She's crazy for Pablo"

"And she's also crazy for her uncle Pepi" Pedro laughed nodding

"How's baby?" You smile remembering the get together of three weeks ago

"Great! It's really good, other than a few morning sickness, constant cravings and several mood swings, we're incredible" You smiled discretly putting your hand on top of your non-visible stomach

Baby two was 15 weeks old, your tummy wasn't visible, barely starting to appear and it could be appreciated when you were on bra and panties, something that only Pablo got to see being honest and not always in a sexy way.

"What do you think it'll be?"

"A little angry bird has told me that he, along with all of the team, wants it to be a boy" He laughs "And I would like to be a boy too" You smile taking your hand off your stomach "But I won't mind either if it's a girl"

"As long as it's healthy" You nod smiling

"That's the most important thing"

"Mami, I can kick just like papi!" Helena said coming over to you both, high fiving Pedri and kissing his cheek, before grabbing your hand "Wanna see it?"

You wink to Pedri as he smiled ruffling your hair lightly, and you picked Helena up making your way towards where Pablo was playing with the ball

"Next female football player I heard?" He stopped playing looking at you both with a smile on his face

"Amor, you shouldn't-"

"Let me enjoy it while I can" You cut him off talking about lifting Helena up, he raised his hands lightly

"Papá, vamos a enseñarle a mamá mi tiro" She got out of your hold taking the ball from his dad's feet

"Ready, ladybug?" She nods and kicks the ball a little to hard because it goes straight to Pablo's face but he dodged it easily "Maybe try to not hit it that much, Lena" You laughed at his face

She did several times that shot until Ter Stegen came with a smile

"Nice shot, Lena. Think you can do a goal with me in front?" She looks at her dad

"Can I?" Pablo nods smiling

"It's the same like you play with me at home, ladybug. You think you can score against Ter Stegen?" She looks at you

"It's what you and daddy do all the time, bonita" You say smiling at her and then she nodded

"I think I can" She mumbles playing with her fingers while looking at Ter Stegen

"You think?" She furrowed her eyebrows not sensing the playfulness in Marc's words

"I know I can"

"Then let's do this" He clapped his gloved hands and winked at you both.

"Mami, can you tie my hair, please?" She asked after pushing it back several times only for it to end up on her face again. Pablo and you raised your eyebrows at each other surprised.

"She's tying her hair" You said laughing

"She got that from you" He said as you blushed, whenever you got competitive you pulled your hair up in a bun or ponytail.

"THE MISSY IS TYING HER HAIR UP!" One of the guys yelled "THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS!" You looked over and saw Alejandro Balde, being the owner of the attraction of the lads. Pablo joined and started talking to Helena on how to do shoot the ball into the net besides teaching her how to several times.

He spoke it the little girl's ear acting as if they were playing a real match, with the tapping their mouths with their hands and everything.

The guys were forming a circle and they were still a few of the fans recording the moment.

"Whenever you're ready, ladybug" Pablo said stepping backwards to be next to you, hugging you by the waist as you wrapped yourself against him watching your daughter prepare to shot.

She looked behind you and you both did thumbs up, she smiled and ran to kick the ball.

You knew that little girl had power in her legs whenever she kicked while being inside of you.

The ball flew flying hard at first but then it lost force, meaning Ter Stegen could easily stop her ball. But he didn't.

Instead, he throw himself a bit later, acting as he didn't know where it could go and preparing himself for it, to the floor letting the ball pass underneath his body by centimeters. The ball hit the back of the net and instantly roars were heard in the whole stadium. You and Pablo ran towards your babygirl, congratulating her as the guys cheered and hugged you three

"Helena owns the pitch!" Ansu had yell being followed by Robert, Pedri, Alejandro, Eric, Ferran, Torre, Raphinha and soon everyone was chanting it

"Looks like we've got a potential football player in our lives" Pablo said as you smiled nodding watching Helena in Ter Stegen's shoulders

"I never doubted her kicking skills" Pablo laughed knowing what you meant

"Hopefully this one isn't that hard on you"

"Are you kidding? I've got the feeling if it's a boy it'll be worse than ever" Pablo laughs hard once more shaking his head you felt him kiss your cheek

"I can't wait for Baby to be here with us" Pablo murmured as you hummed leaning into him "I can't wait for this to happen over and over again"

Your eyes locked with Helena's, her happy smile instantly making you smile and heart swell in happiness. You loved your family.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

#M. is writing #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi blurb #pablo gavi angst #pablo gavi fluff #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi imagine #gavi icons #gavi fluff #gavi angst #gavi blurb #gavi smut #pablo gavi smut #this doesn't contain smut but still for the tags :) #pablo martin páez gavira #football players #gavi x reader smut #pablo gavi x reader smut

[leclsrc]

feel like ur a master at these so, could i req carlos and nonsexual intimacy (fluffff!) thanks and happy new years <3 !

terribly late. so sorry! title from this.

you might be sleeping – cs55

Ten out of nine times you wake up, Carlos’ head is on your stomach. His hand, too, is splayed across it, hiking whatever shirt you wore to sleep upwards so skin touches skin, his to yours, flexing gently if he stirs, sending ticklish sensations across you. Sometimes, you gently pry him off (only to be yanked back into bed), other times you fall back asleep, hand threaded into his long hair.

Today, you watch. You’d fallen asleep way too early last night, and he’d come home a bit past midnight from a full day’s work and dinner, so your schedules didn’t coordinate. You wonder how he goes from lying on his back, arms crossed—the way he usually sleeps, like on planes or sofas—to fully engulfing you at some point of the night. His hand is big and warm against your bare stomach, stubble rubbing the skin there.

It should be boring, it should be draggy and slow and quiet, but waiting and watching him is anything but. From where you lie, you can’t see his face—half of it is burrowed into you anyway—but this is okay. You play with locks of his hair, stroke his back, until you’re either sleepy again or too restless to keep lying down. You rub the material of his nightshirt between two fingers, trying to identify the shirt and eventually remembering it as one of your gifts to him when you first started dating.

It’s horribly intimate, you think. You wonder how much of you he feels like this, even in sleep. If he feels your skin thrum, if he can hear your heart beat. His breath fans against your skin softly, and you wish this moment would never end. 

The doorbell rings, and you blink, attempting to pry yourself out of his tight grip. He groans, a long, drawn-out, bummed sound; he’s been jolted awake, so his sentences are short and a bit stilted, a mix of Spanish and English. “Oh,” he says, clearly delirious from sleep. “Espere, espere. Wait for me.”

“Can’t,” you say. “I think that’s mail.”

“Espera el correo?” He asks, eyes half-shut. You stifle a laugh at his evident confusion. “Wait for me, sweetheart.” You’re half-free, his hand still clinging to you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m just going to pick up the mail,” you say fondly, amused. He pauses, ceases his movements, then flops back onto the bed, nodding, murmuring something in Spanish again. Ella regresara, no se preocupe. You try your best not to laugh even harder, creeping out of bed and reattempting your beeline for the door. But he latches onto you again, pulls you gently beside him, and almost magnetically, his hand finds your stomach, wrapping around your waist.

His hand flexes, and he lets out a sigh as he emerges from sleep. “Don’t get up, I’ll do it.” He gets up sleepily, shuffling out the door and leaving you laughing. You hadn’t even asked him to—you were half sure he was 100% asleep again. But you watch him, still sleepy, put on slippers to retrieve the mail (mistaking yours for his, if the fluffy too-small pair of frilly slippers he’s wearing is anything to go by) and blow you a kiss before he climbs down the stairs.

“Thank you, mi amor!” You holler after him.

“When I get back,” he says, loud enough for you to hear, “you’re my pillow again.”

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz one shot #f1 x reader