7200 words, long Miguel x Reader (PLATONIC!)
Becoming close with Miguel had been an uphill battle. His constant standoffish and harsh demeanor was anything but easy to get past. Yet glimpses of softness behind his eyes, the way his frown faltered ever so slightly from time to time. That is what made it worth the effort. A chance to see a gentle, softer Miguel pushed you to be by his side time and time again.
Your efforts often went without reward. On lucky days Miguel would simply let you observe. Days in which luck was not in your favor, he would push you out of his lab at a moment's notice. Shutting you out from even attempting to get closer to him.
However after many long, tiresome months of staying by his side. Asking him questions about his interests, and befriending Lyla, Miguel had opened his heart up to you, even if it was just a simple peek.
It was quite the surprise when you received a private message on your watch. A message from miguel. It was a simple statement. A time, place and an activity.
Dinner at Miguel’s house, 7 PM tonight.
How lovely, oh how very, very lovely. He trusted you enough to invite you to his own home? Oh you've only ever dreamed of getting this far. To think Miguel was going to cook you a meal that he invited you to?
The concept left you starstruck. You fervently texted back, before deleting said message and retyping something that both represented your excitement, but remained normal enough as to not scare off or unsettle Miguel.
Dinner at Miguel’s house. What a treat.
At 6:58 you fidgeted nervously at his front door, contemplating on knocking or waiting the extra two minutes. By the time you made a decision the time on your watch read 7:01
Accepting your defeat with your head held high, you knocked with an air of confidence. Firm knuckles over hardwood.
Miguel's apartment door opened up almost immediately, as if he was anxious for your arrival. Miguel was an interesting sight to say the least, his attire consisted of a rather plain looking, cool toned sweater and jeans.
You sighed in relief, no longer afraid that you had underdressed for the occasion.
After a few beats Miguel leaned away from the door, opening it further as he did so. He bit his lip before speaking.
“The food is almost done, you can take your shoes off and put them on the rack…”
Miguel then smoothly turned on his heel, and walked out of your sight towards the kitchen. You complied to his instructions, taking off your shoes and placing them in a neat, orderly fashion next to Miguel’s.
You always believed you could tell a great deal about a person from their shoes. Yet now you began to second guess that notion.
Boots, multiple pairs of sneakers, a pair of converse, dress shoes. Miguel had it all. All pairs in various stages of wear and tear.
You snapped yourself out of your contemplations and followed the smell of something delicious. Hoping that your nose would guide you to the kitchen, where Miguel would undoubtedly be working away at making dinner.
Making you dinner to share with him.
The idea made the corners of your mouth pull into an excited grin, quickening your steps as the pleasant smell grew stronger.
Turning the corner granted you a rather pleasant sight. Miguel was calm, standing over a sizable pot as he gently sired the contents with a ladle.
The dazzling red hues of his eyes met yours as he looked in your direction, eyes nearly half lidded. It was new and quite exciting to see Miguel so calm. The usual tension in his shoulders was nowhere to be seen, now replaced with a comfortable slack.
“You can pick a bowl from the cupboard”
Miguel's gaze returned to the pot, opening the drawer to the side of him and plucking out a pair of utensils.
Too nervous to speak, you nodded wordlessly and stepped across Miguel's kitchen. His cupboards were quite tall, like him. but you had no trouble opening the door and carefully grasping two identical bowls.
Dinner was great, albeit a bit awkward. Thankfully you had coaxed Miguel into talking by inconspicuously asking about how he learned to make the dish. Which led him to recall a time in which his mother called him into the kitchen, and walked him through the steps, start to finish.
The story continued as the two of you washed your dishes, Miguel told of how his mother was abrasive and outspoken, yet she guided him with such gentle confidence. Miguel ended his monologue with a rather simple statement.
“Yeah… my mom is pretty great..”
He chuckled, yet it wasn't a chuckle out of joy or amusement, rather you could tell Miguel harbored a sense of sadness regarding his mother.
You decided not to push on the topic, however as you two sat on Miguel’s rather large and comfortable couch. You found your own curiosities nipping at your psyche.
You slowly sat up, curiously walking towards your host’s bookshelf. Eyeing the ocean of different textbooks, think pieces, anatomy studies…
So much information, you had wondered if Miguel had read each one.
You heard Miguel mirror your movements, wordlessly standing up and taking a place next to you.
“These were what I studied when I was a biologist full time. I still go back and read them every once in a while.”
You glanced to your left where Miguel had taken his place. Dazzled by the idea of him being so intelligent. All spider-people were smart. You knew that for certain, but the idea of Miguel being so well read charmed you to no end.
You continued to scan the bookshelf, finishing each row until your eyes met the bottom. Most books fit the same look as the previous dozens but one stood out.
You pointed curiously at a rather old looking, hand bound binder, obnoxiously sticking out from the rest of the pristine white texts.
Miguel squatted down, his movements fluid and graceful. Reaching out to grab the binder, he pulled it out of the shelf carefully and dusted off the front cover with his hand.
“It’s a family photo album.”
He spoke with such an air of uninterested ease, which clashed perfectly with your unspoken excitement. A smile took hold of your face and you could no longer resist the urge to chirp out.
“Can we look through it?”
Your eyes glistened with joy, and Miguel could simply not resist. He sighed gently, holding the binder under his arm and he unenthusiastically padded over to the couch. Miguel unceremoniously dropped down into the cushion, the excessively soft padding causing him to bounce slightly. He looked towards you, patting the space beside him as a wordless invitation.
As you sat down, you took the opportunity to lean into his arm, rationalizing the behavior as simply wanting to get a good view of the binders contents.
You felt Miguel’s curious gaze fall upon you for a moment, yet he made no efforts to change your positioning, it seemed he simply allowed you to be close to him.
With confident hands, he opened up the book with a face of neutrality. Gently turning the pages as he presented each picture, adding little anecdotes to the ones he deemed memorable or Important enough.
“And this one..” Miguel chuckled before he continued.
“This one is of me and my athair when I was little, he used to carry me on his shoulders”
Miguel's fingers gently dragged along the page, obviously reminiscing on a time in which his life was much less complicated. A time where his family was simple, and sweet.
Your tone was gentle, yet conveyed your confusion and curiosity perfectly. You looked up from the pages, studying the expression on Miguel’s face.
He bore a sort of wistful smirk, looking down, deep into the photo of him and his family.
He turned his head towards you before continuing.
“You know he used to sit me down at the kitchen table every night, and we would just talk in Gaeilge… he always made sure I never used any slang, only proper textbook words and phrases..”
Miguel blinked a few times before sharply inhaling through his nose, he quickly turned the page. Obviously embarrassed about how emotional he had begun to get. His voice was watery as he continued to speak, pointing out fond memories involving his brother, a few notable, sweet moments with his mother, and of course the events that were documented with him and his father. None of the pictures were in a particularly chronological order, so it wasn't a surprise when Miguel turned the page, and you caught a glimpse of a much younger Miguel compared to the previous photographs.
He looked about four, maybe five years old, his dark curls were long and wisped around his eyebrows, making the cutest little bangs imaginable. His cheeks were still a little chubby, and his grin possessed no fangs.
As you looked further at the spectacle of photos, you noticed a particular image. A photo that Miguel had neglected to comment on. It actually seemed that he was actively ignoring the photograph.
The printed picture depicted that same, young and curly haired Miguel, giggling and playing with his mother. A book was placed in her lap, said book showed a small illustration of a brightly colored creature playing with other silly looking characters. A classic children's book.
Yet this one seemed a bit different.
Miguel's mother wore a rather interesting pair of fingerless gloves. The color pallet matched the creature from the book perfectly, the bright and gentle blue color accented with rainbow colored cuffs.
It was “the tickle monster” book of course it was. In all your efforts to recognize the material, you had failed to notice that Miguel's mother was actually tickling him with the gloves on. A warm smile on his mothers face complimented his blush filled giggling.
“Aww you liked that book as a kid too?”
Pointing at the photo with your index, you tried your hardest to sound sweet, avoiding any teasing tone. But Miguel still stiffened up as he blushed.
It was the reddest you’ve ever seen Miguel, the beet color even spread down his neck and to his ears. You didn't quite understand why he was so embarrassed. A lot of children enjoyed playing with their parents, a lot of children enjoyed being tickled. Why not combine the two.
You caught Miguel biting his lip before he turned the page, hurrying onto another subject. Specifically the time his brother had gotten stuck in a tree while playing. Miguel smirked casually, and you watched as the redness of his cheeks began to dissipate.
The night had ended off quite well, Miguel walked you to his door after a rather pleasant conversation, you carried a tupperware of the soup he had made in your hands. You both understood that it was quite odd that he was walking you to his door, as you were obviously not from his world. But common practice seemed to outweigh your reasoning.
As he shut the door, Miguel bid you a goodnight, and told you to text him when you arrived at home in your own universe. To make sure you got home safe, of course.
The colors of the portal you opened shifted hues as you stared into the warm light, taking a short moment to stare behind you at his door. Your feet began to move as you looked, almost yearning to return Miguel’s warm side. Despite the feeling you stepped through the portal anyway. Landing in your room in which you promptly got ready for bed.
Getting under the covers and laying your head on the pillow, you searched for the solace of slumber. Yet none was granted. You couldn’t stop thinking, your head was completely full.
Full of miguel. Full of how he made you such a delicious meal. And how he let you lean into him. His books and the baby pictures and how he blushed.
Oh how he blushed. The picture simply wouldn't leave your thoughts, your fixation wasn't just amusement it was something deeper. A fondness that only emerged at his vulnerability. You scoffed and rolled over.
How ridiculous, why did Miguel get so embarrassed by it. You had to understand. Was it general mortification at the childishness? Or was it something deeper.
You shot up in bed as you came to the realization. Miguel's flush wasn’t from simple embarrassment. Its roots sprouted from a sense of shame that always accompanied desire. A desire for a carefree, simpler time in which Miguel could just play, and not have to worry about saving lives or universes. Miguel had never let himself enjoy things, even when invited to. Of course he wouldn’t want to indulge in lighthearted, childlike play.
If Miguel wouldn't let himself enjoy it, then maybe you could become his own personal tickle monster
Excitement filled your heart and a smile shone on your face once more as you reached for your laptop. Ignoring the blinding light that emerged from the screen, you frantically typed into the search bar. Nothing wrong with a little meddling, right?
You could make Miguel happy, and achieve that closeness you were so heavily desiring. It was in fact, the perfect plan.
You only hoped that Miguel wouldn't be too embarrassed or shameful.
You quickly bought the item you were searching for, pleased to find a listing that didn't include the book. While such an item could be rather beneficial in the future, it wasn't needed in order to enact your current endeavor.
Now your only task was to wait.
Waiting to tickle Miguel was nearly as enjoyable as actually tickling him.
In the days it took for your package to arrive you had taken it upon yourself to be Miguel’s resident menace.
You had followed him around like a shadow, never straying too far away. Even when he needed time to focus you would remain nearby, chatting to Lyla or tinkering with your own projects.
You stuck to him like glue, which would have been borderline pleasant if you hadn't decided to subtly tease him every moment he wasn't working.
Miguel jumped when you snuck behind him to blow a puff of air in his ear. Swiftly turning around to glare at you before walking away, and of course you followed, never falling far behind. Miguel gasped when you jumped at him as he was turning a corner holding your hands out like claws and playfully making a sort of light growling. You pretended to not notice as he instinctively brought his hands up to protect his torso. He pushed past you with a scowl, storming off into his office.
You simply looked after him with a smirk and turned to follow.
The day the gloves finally arrived you nearly jumped for joy. They were perfect, just like in Miguel’s photo, Gentle blue with rainbow patterned cuffs. They were absolutely wonderful. You quickly took off the gloves and paired them together in your bag. In one swift motion you opened a portal, jumping through the omni-colored doorway.
You just had to make it through the day without foiling your own plans. Summoning the screen on your watch, you sent Miguel a private message.
With a swipe of your finger, the holo screen dissolved and you began sorting the anomalies through the “go home machine”. Letting out short, witty quips as you sent them through.
Every so often your bag would catch your eye, and you shook your head frantically trying to ignore the thought of Miguel giggling beneath your gloved fingers.
You focused on your work, sorting, sending, recording. The job was rather easy, which only aided your wandering thoughts into becoming distractions.
Halfway through the day, you received a message from Miguel, it was short. Not concerningly so as Miguel had the habit of being long winded in person, and curt through messages.
You smiled at your watch as you smugly waved goodbye to a prowler variant, who was currently being restrained from swiping at the electric shield with his claws.
The remaining hours of your shift passed by quickly, and you internally thanked Lyla for being stricter with Miguel about his near constant overtime.
Excitement turned to nerves as you reached the door to Miguel’s office fidgeting with your bag. Maybe bringing the gloves was a bad idea. But, Miguel looked so happy in the photo…
You peered into your bag, snatching the soft gloves before holding both in your hands. Your gaze rapidly shifting between the door and the gloves. Taking a deep breath, you returned the gloves to their position in your bag, and confidently opened the door to Miguel's office.
You strode in, bouncing slightly. While it was easy to conceal your excitement through your expression, it was a bit more difficult to hide your excited steps.
Miguel was still at his screens, concentrating fully on his work. His eyes were narrowed, glancing slowly between each orange screen. His shoulders held tension, as he hung his head lower than he naturally would.
Lyla materialized beside him, whispering in his ear and pointing a finger towards you. Lyla always made you laugh, she consistently made little jokes and gestures that were unnecessary, but very entertaining.
Miguel rolled his shoulders as he turned to look at you, his eyes glowing red in the dark room.
The usually aerial platform was positioned towards the ground today, and Miguel stepped off with ease, Lyla took over his position as she conjured up a very comfortable looking digital chair
Miguel loomed over your stature as the two of you met, his tall frame and broad shoulders casting you in a shadow. It was almost intimidating. Almost.
“Is it that time already?”
Miguel's voice was steady and calm, yet lacked that air of wit that he usually possessed. Miguel was definitely tired.
You opened your bag, praying that Miguel wouldn’t notice the gloves. Pulling out the film of your choosing, you presented him with its case. The brightly colored cover catching his eye.
You scoffed at Miguel’s attempt to be polite, for an unfunny spiderman, he had been making you laugh quite a lot these past couple of days.
“don’t worry Miguel, I chose a stupid movie on purpose”
A chuckle was shared between the both of you. After All this was your first ”movie night” with Miguel, you purposely chose a rather meaningless film as you had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't be doing much watching anyway.
You watched as Miguel turned towards Lyla, the pair made eye contact for a moment, a shared knowing nod was had before Miguel began to fiddle with his watch. Opening a rather unneeded portal to his living room. You smiled at the absurdity as Miguel gestured for you to step through the warm colors. You complied instantly, casually walking head-first into Miguel’s now familiar living space.
He followed briskly behind you, striding farther in the room and grabbing one of the bags of snacks that had been placed on his coffee table.
You looked over the two bags, contemplating your options for a moment before Miguel spoke up, casually walking out of the living room.
“I'm going to go ahead and change, the bathroom is down this hall to the left if you want to as well.”
You hurried to comply, while comfortable, your spidersuit was nothing compared to casual clothing. Miguel's bathroom was nice, it had a clean, yet mild scent. And the mirror was quite large in height. Most likely custom made for Miguel to be able to see himself in the mornings without having to duck down. You changed with as much efficiency as you possibly could, yet when you arrived back in the living room, Miguel had already sat on the floor, fiddling with his console in hopes of getting the movie to work.
“You know… we’re lucky I collect vintage consoles, this disk is ancient.”
You chortled quietly at the idea of something from your timeline being considered “ancient”. Rolling your eyes playfully, you plopped down on the couch, leaning back into its softness. You had made sure to keep your bag close to your feet, in order to avoid suspicion when your plan inevitably came to fruition.
Miguel let out a triumphant hum, before standing up and sitting on the couch next to you. His movements exhibited much more poise and grace than your ragdoll-esque falling onto the cushions. His position was comfortably close, yet allowed for a polite amount of distance. He reached out onto the coffee table, grabbing the remote and handing it to you.
The opening scene of the movie played, and you leaned back into the cushions, fingers gently twitching as you shot secret glances at Miguel. You just needed to be a little patient.
“Wow, this is a boring movie.”
Your tone was dry, you looked up at Miguel who had an utterly unamused expression on his face. As he glanced down to look at you he sighed, no longer even attempting to pay attention to the theatrics on screen.
“Yeah this is… not great.”
You smiled, reaching for the remote and pressing pause. A small silence fell between you two as you simply stared at one another. Unsure of what to do next.
You started to speak, leaning down to rifle through your bag, making a show and taking extra time to put on the gloves. Lucky for you the dim lighting provided a bit of cover from Miguel’s curious gaze, concealing the bright gloves currently being slipped onto your palms.
“That dinner was really great, I’m really happy you showed me your family..”
You were still bent over, faux looking through your bag as you purposefully built up tension. You felt Miguel’s gaze land on your back. You had him in your clutches.
You began to slowly sit up, hands still concealed in the dim lighting.
“But you know… I’m surprised that you still haven’t recognized me.”
Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed together as he leaned back, scanning your expression for answers. He looked utterly confused and a fair bit concerned. His lips began to thin into a line as he raised a hesitant hand.
“I mean how could you forget about your best friend…”
His eyes met yours as your serious expression melted into a rather goofy grin.
You eagerly lunged forward, catching Miguel completely off guard, allowing you to push him over without much struggle. Miguel let out a startled guffaw, sputtering out a confused exclamation.
In his confusion you were able to get him to lay flat on his back on the couch, sitting on the upper halves of his thighs as you wiggled your fingers and continued your act.
You danced your “paws” mere inches over Miguel's stomach. In his daze, rather than push you off, he only raised a hand to cover his mouth, attempting to shield his smile from your view.
You growled playfully, watching as Miguel finally caught a full glimpse of the gloves. You smiled as Miguel recognized the colorful patterns, and your heart gushed as even in the dimly lit room, you could still see the blush forming on his cheeks.
“Now I have to make up for lost time you see? It's been so long since we’ve played together”
You put on your best growling, teasing tone as Miguel kept his hand adamantly clamped over his mouth.
Oh well, that will soon come to an end anyway.
With an obviously over the top evil cackle, you plunged your glove adorned fingers into Miguel’s stomach, aiming for the spot in which his stomach and sides met. Spidering up and down the area with such enthusiasm, it really did seem like you were feeding off his laughter.
Miguel giggled loudly behind his palm, shaking his head back and forth before using his free hand to gently swipe at you. Unable to cope with the ticklish feeling.
The sight made you wonder how long it had been since Miguel has received this type of affection.
While his giggles were satisfying, they were muffled by the palm of his hand. You needed to get Miguel to really lose his mind in hysterics.
You began to growl once more, attempting to make Miguel lighten up as much as possible.
“As much as I’ve missed playing, I think I miss tickling this cute little tummy even more! I think you missed it too, haven’t you Miguel?
Your sly attempt to both fluster and call out Miguel lead him to slap the hand that was covering his mouth into your shoulder.
Leaning his head back into the cushions miguel giggled and snorted, finally responding to your shameless teasing
“Oh shOCK! DONT no no don't do THAT!”
his uneven tone amused you to no end, the way he protested so fervently yet made no effort to throw you off. The way Miguel shook his head, hoping to get your teasing words out of his ears. Oh it was simply too sweet.
“Hm? What is that Miguel? Don’t what? Don't talk about how ticklish your tummy is? What, did you think I would have forgotten my favorite spot to tickle?”
Miguel snorted at your words, blushing traveling down from his cheeks to his neck. His squirming grew more frantic, and he opted to simply hold your wrists rather than pushing at your shoulders.
After a few more seconds of spidering your nails up and down, you slowed to a stop, rubbing the spot to exterminate any lingering ghostly tickles. Granting Miguel a break.
Miguel was tough, however you had assumed that due to his lack of ticklish affection in his recent years, he would highly benefit from frequent breaks. In order to assure that he's actually enjoying himself.
You waited a few seconds, granting Miguel the opportunity to push you away, or tell you to stop, but no negative reactions came. Miguel simply caught his breath, his hands defensively placed on his torso. A wobbly smile was planted on his face as his gaze darted from your face to the gloves.
You simply chuckled and began to tap your chin, putting on a show of being in deep thought.
“Now where do I tickle you next… so much lost time! So hard to choose!”
You wiggled your fingers in the air once more, drawing out a surprised grunt from Miguel, whose hands raised slightly in defense. You glanced from spot to spot, contemplating where to draw Miguel's laughter from next. Suddenly you were hit with an epiphany, an evil, mortifying epiphany.
You bore a devilish grin as you opened your mouth to speak.
“How about you choose where I tickle next Miguel?”
You placed your palms on his shoulders, gently rubbing your thumbs along his collar bones. Watching the cogs turn in his head as Miguel’s gaze shifted from your eyes to your hands.
Miguel was barely audible, his mumbled out refusal only drove you to twitch your fingers tentatively along his shoulders. Your desire to make him choose outweighed your desire to take pity on him. Poor Miguel, doomed to face your wrath.
“You have to choose, come on Miguel, do it for your old pal.”
You watched as Miguel's lips shifted, forming into a slight pout. You held back a snicker, enjoying how childish Miguel was acting, still refusing to push you away. As he opened his mouth to speak, you noticed his sharp feline-like fangs poking out from his top lip. The sight made your heart melt, but you held your composure.
“You are not my old pal. I met you 4 months ago.”
Miguel's grumpy tone was partially nulled by the blush on his cheeks. You smiled fondly, before morphing your gentle grin into a devious smile. Removing your hands from his shoulders. one hand rested on your hip while you used the other to point at him as you spoke, mirroring how an adult would reprimand a child.
“Miguel I am surprised by you, I’ve known you since you were a little boy.”
You accentuated your lecture by taking your pointing hand, and gently spidering your fingers up the center of his stomach. Miguel bit down on his bottom lip to conceal his surprised squeak, but you noticed how his abdomen flexed in response to the light tickling. Drawing back you continued, noticing how Miguel's gaze focused on the gloves.
“Now I am a bit hurt you still haven’t recognized me yet.. but I’ll forgive you. If you choose a spot for me to tickle.”
Miguel turned his head to the side, avoiding your eyes. He seemed to think for a second, genuinely weighing his options. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, then looked ahead once more. His brows were furrowed as he turned his head to look at you, returning it to its original position.
“You’re being so childish, what's wrong with you.”
Miguel's sour provocation made your expression falter for a moment, before you promptly burst out into boisterous giggles. You drew a hand towards yourself to slick back your hair for a moment, letting the hand drop by your side.
“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you!”
Your giggles broke through your words as you spoke, losing yourself in the hysterics of your situation. Miguel's face bore a look of shock and confusion, and his eyebrows furrowed as if he was worried.
“You haven't pushed me off, or tried to snatch my hands or anything!… you haven't even told me to stop”
Miguel’s lips parted in his surprise, showing off his fangs once more. His eyes sparkled with a sense of guilt and shame. Your heart softened at the state of him, poor Miguel you only meant to call him out. Not hurt his feelings.
Your glove adorned paws reached out to cup his face, the fuzzy softness snapping Miguel back to reality. You held eye contact for a moment, before leaning your body down, touching your forehead to his.
You let out a gentle whisper, rubbing your thumbs on his cheeks.
“I think it’s really cute, I really like tickling you Miguel.”
Seeing Miguel blush was one thing, feeling his face heat up in real time was another. You drew your head back, straightening up to your original position, seated on top of him. You removed your hands from his face, only to begin wiggling your fingers.
“Now. Are you gonna choose where the tickle monster gets you?”
You returned that sly, maniacal grin to your face. Wiggling your fingers right above his torso. You watched as Miguel averted your gaze, yet nodded slightly all the same. Of course, it took him a minute to build the courage, biting his lower lip in thought.
“Um if you have to, I wouldn't mind.. my ribs.”
Miguel’s tone was nothing like you had heard from him before. It was soft and gentle, borderline timid. You felt so lucky to be the one who brought out this side of him. The shy and gentle side, the side that liked to play.
You shifted your paws to gently pinch at miguels lowermost rib bones. Gently squeezing each article between your index and thumb.
“I’d love to tickle your ribs Miguel! Why didn’t you just ask to begin with? … you know, i'd do anything for my best friend”
You happily giggled along with him, watching his torso shift slightly. He rocked side to side in little mico motions, and you felt him gently kick out his feet behind you.
Your dexterous fingers climbed up his rib bones as if they were rungs on a ladder. Taking your time to reach the very top, just below his underarms before dragging all ten Fingers back down to his first set of ribs.
You continued this pattern, crawling up then dragging down. It was very entertaining to watch Miguel giggle and squirm. The way he scrunched his nose up when you reached the top of his ribs made you chuckle with fondness.
“AH- waitwait not there!”
Miguel’s panicked protest snapped you out of your one track, ticklish daze. Looking down you realized that your hands had unconsciously traveled up to his underarms, wiggling gently into the flesh that resided there.
You sighed happily, stopping your fingers and gazing into Miguel’s eyes. The reddish hues dazzled you to no end.
“Anywhere…. Anywhere else but there”
Miguel's uneven breaths proved his sensitivity. You began to draw your hands back, playing with the soft fur on the gloves. Making eye contact once more you spoke with a soft yet ultimately very teasing tone.
“Of course miggy what kind of a tickle monster would I be if i didn't listen to my favorite little tickle buddy?”
The nickname combined with the still childish persona of a tickle monster sent shivers up Miguel’s spine. He could only let out a whine filled groan in response, tipping his head back.
Laying down once more, you let your head rest on Miguel’s shoulder, bringing a gloved hand up to rub the fur on his exposed neck. The fur was incredibly soft, and Miguel could only stiffen up, leaning away from hid assailant. Unfortunately he was leaning straight into your whispering teases.
“Remember me yet Miguel? Surely you must by now.”
Your hand followed Miguel as he leaned away, unintentionally wiggling closer towards you. The teasing and soft, furry touches only clouded his mind. Sending little electric shocks throughout his body.
The statement was choked out, you could tell he was trying not to squeal. Closer and closer he wiggled towards you, until your forehead met his profile.
“Oh really? Then I guess I’ll have to tickle and tickle you until you remember. You seem to really like my paws here miguel.”
As you finished your teasing statement, you brought up your other hand. You had Miguel effectively trapped between your hands, the soft fur of the gloves nearly driving him to madness. Still, he refused to speak to you. His stubbornness drew out an idea from the back of your psyche, and you grinned once more as you opened your mouth to whisper.
“… and I can bring all your other friends too, maybe seeing Mr. Feather will help jog your memory.”
You chuckled as you heard Miguel gasp between his muffled giggles and titters. Finally you had reached a breakthrough.
Miguel cut himself off, obviously mortified that he had been intimidated into talking by something so inconspicuous as a feather. His lips pressed together, forming a rather thin line. You pushed further, enjoying how the heat returned to his cheeks.
“So then you do remember me.”
Miguel swallowed, shutting his eyes. You leaned up, still rubbing the furred gloves on the sides of Miguel's neck.
You watched him nod, almost frantically so, as if he wanted to get the whole interaction over and done with.
You smiled, stopping your hands to once again cup Miguel's face in your palms. You tilted his head up to look at you, and you watched as he peeked at you through his eyelashes.
Miguel remained silent, chewing his bottom
Lip as his gaze fell to your hands. Examining how your gentle hold perfectly framed his cheeks.
Your mocking words were so cruel, yet your hands were so gentle and kind. The contradiction between the two made his head spin, and he had no choice but to keep his mouth shut.
“Go on, you can tell me. What's my name?”
A whine built itself up in Miguel’s throat, his hair was messy and the curls at the back of his neck splayed out as they were flattened on the couch cushions.
You watched Miguel’s expression switch from a conflicted turmoil to a sort of sour expression. It was if he was cringing at even the concept of you being a “tickle monster”.
As you spoke, you removed your hands from Miguel’s face and began to ghost your fingers over the side of Miguel's neck. You dragged your index up and down his jugular and even up the shell of his ear. Simultaneously, your free hand began to gently scratch under his chin as if you would a cat.
Soft titters began to flow out from Miguel’s mouth once more, much less frantic than when you had been using the fur. His giggling almost seemed like it was pleasant, rather than hysterical.
“Now, I think it’s about time you say my name Miguel.”
Rather than squirm or thrash, Miguel simply let his head fall back onto the couch cushions, unintentionally giving your hands more room to wander. He drew his hands up, not to bat yours away, rather he simply clutched at the hem of your shirt. Miguel was seemingly only searching for an anchor, and not for the sensation to end.
Still, he remained silent.
You removed your hand from his chin, sneakily slipping it around his upper ribs before attacking. You spidered up and down, making sure to reach his underarm as well.
Miguel slammed his arms to his sides, only trapping your hand into his armpit. His hands withdrew from your shirt and he began trying to shield his torso.
You waited a few moments before spotting an opening, you swiftly removed your hand from his neck, zeroing in on the center of his stomach.
Miguel arched as you did so, the gentle spidering and pinching sending him into hysterics. You felt his legs kicking behind you again, realizing you had him in your clutches, your mouth moved faster than your brain.
“Tickle tickle tickle! Come on Miggy I don't have all day!”
Miguel had snorted at your incessant mocking. His hands gripped your wrists but once again he made no move to push you away. He shook his head once more, needing an outlet from the borderline overwhelming feeling.
“OKAY!-okay okay! Just get out of there!”
“Get out of where Miguel?”
You were so very close to showing him mercy, but he was simply too cute when he frantically sputtered out answers. The fingers wedged in his underarm sped up their wiggling motions, seeking to push Miguel into saying what you wanted to hear.
“My armpit! Gehet out of my armp-shock!”
Miguel threw his head back as you picked up the pace of your tickling motions, feet kicking wildly behind you now. It impressed you, the immense control that he needed to possess to wiggle about yet not push or buck you off. You caught yourself smiling once more at the notion.
“I’ll stop once you tell me what my name is.”
Your plan was so very close to ending perfectly, Miguel only had one last job. He needed to simply let go of the shame and embarrassment that he held within his heart. If only for a moment, he needed to let himself have fun and enjoy the childish closeness you two were sharing.
“Fine! Fine you’re the- the!”
Miguel cut himself off with another bout of quirky laughter, his fangs glistened in the soft light, and he shut his eyes, unable to look at you as he spoke.
“You’re the tickle monster!”
As the words left his lips, you watched as Miguel turned the reddest you had ever seen him. Your tickling slowed to a stop, your hands changing positions. You simply held Miguel’s shoulders as you leaned down to lay on his shoulder once more. Reaching up to run a furry hand through his hair.
His breathing was ragged, but even. You continued to soothe Miguel with your gentle petting, before whispering to him that you'd be right back.
You clambered off of Miguel, your feet connecting with the cold wooden floor. You quickly peeled off the gloves, dropping them on the table. You calmly strode into the kitchen, grabbing a glass before filling it with water. Your mind began to wander as you filled the glass. You had hoped you hadn’t gone too far.
Upon returning to the living room, Miguel had taken the initiative to sit himself up. He was still taking in breaths, but he seemed much more calm. However his hair was still quite messy, and his cheeks seemed to be stained with the color red.
“I brought you some water.”
You had nervously held out the glass, waiting for Miguel to take it. Doubt filled your mind, you began to worry that your impulse to make Miguel happy may have taken the opposite effect.
Miguel gently took the cup from your hand, taking slow sips as he tugged on your arm. Taking that as a cue to sit down next to him, you slowly lowered yourself onto the couch cushions.
After a few more slow sips, Miguel placed the glass in front of him, turning to you.
“That was insane. You are insane for that.”
Miguel smirked, genuine humor in his voice. Was this his attempt at being funny?
A chuckle formed in his throat as he shook his head wrapping a casual arm around your shoulder
you were rather startled at such contact, despite the occurrence of your tickle attack less than 5 minutes ago. But you leaned into the touch after a moment.
“You won't tell anyone, right?”
Miguel peered down at you with narrowed eyes, a rather skeptical expression adorned his face. He pulled you closer, semi forcing eye contact. He was so much different now than he was a few minutes ago, Confident, bold, intimidating.
“Of course not Miguel, I just did all that goofy stuff to make you smile.”
You grinned fondly, wiggling your body closer to his. As you did so, his hand that had been resting on your shoulder began to rub its thumb softly on the fabric of your shirt.
Miguel scoffed, turning his head away from you.
“Well I guess you succeeded then.”
Your eyes glittered with excitement, before you could really rationalize your thoughts, your arms wrapped around Miguel's torso. You giggled happily, nuzzling your cheek into the side of his chest.
“So you liked it? I knew you would!”
Joy and relief overwhelmed any sense of embarrassment or shame you harbored. You simply wanted to be close with Miguel.
Miguel only chuckled at your assumption, petting your hair and playfully rolling his eyes. He glanced at the time on his holo screen. It was quite late. Taking great care as to not jostle you, he slowly began to reach for the remote. Turning the television off, you two were cast in darkness.
Miguel layed back on the couch, watching as you nestled yourself deeper into his chest.
Mighel had made sure his whisper was soft enough that you would be unable to register what he said in your sleepy daze. He simply laid there, watching you breathe for a number of minutes, counting your breaths.
As the comforts of sleep coaxed him into unconsciousness, Miguel could only smile at the fact you went through all that trouble, just to make him happy.
He had to admit, you had succeeded.
Thanks so much for reading my fic! This was my longest one by far and horribly self indulgent. I hope you enjoyed!
