#lee!coyle

"Ooh, what's a pretty thing like yerself doin' in here?"

A thick, southern drawl sounded from the man, and as you stepped closer, you recognized him as Leland Coyle, the corrupt officer the other employees at Sinyala Facility had warned you of. He dressed in a midnight blue police jacket and khaki pants, wearing a military crush cap and dark aviators that hid his eyes. You noticed the burn scars that started from half of his face and down his neck.

He didn't intimidate you though, not in the slightest. You'd heard of his past; all the murders and violence and pain he'd caused. But here, in this facility, he was to be used as a toy in the trials. Nothing but a puppet, his strings being pulled by Easterman. And here, right now, strapped limb from limb to this table, you knew he could cause no chaos. So, you strode towards him, standing tall with a folder in your arms.

"Leland Coyle," you started, voice unnerved, "I'm here to perform a simple examination on you, a small check up for wounds or other injuries from your transportation here. It won't take but just a few minutes."

The man smirked with a growly chuckle, the smell of smoke emanating from his breath, making your nose burn. "Aw, you jus' couldn't resist getting yer hands on me, huh?"

You said nothing as you turned towards the small, metal cart next to him, placing the folder on top of it. You noticed a black box that resembled a car battery, blue and yellow wires tangled within each other and protruding from the back of the box. Did this belong to him? Sitting next to it was a larger item, a long baton with metal prongs at the end of them. You weren't entirely sure what it did, but you decided it was best to just leave it out of the picture.

Turning back to him, you stepped forward until you were about a foot in front of his figure. You eyed his frame, catching sight of the same blue and yellow wires wrapped around his torso and arm. Ah, so it was his. What the hell does a car battery do for him? You shook yourself out of your thoughts and looked up into his sunglasses.

"Alright, I'll begin the exam now. If anything hurts, I need you to tell me."

Coyle grinned, not taking his eyes off you as your arms inched towards his shoulders, hands landing on his leather jacket and gently patting down his arms. You remained expressionless as you examined his arms for any tears or lacerations through his clothing, but you eyed him warily as you noticed his dark glasses always stayed gazing at you. You narrowed your eyes at him for a quick second before looking back down at his torso.

A filthy smirk overtook his grin, and he angled his head to the side.

"C'mon, sweetness, what's yer name?"

You remained silent, not even giving him the satisfaction of a glance as you nodded to yourself and turned to the folder, opening it up and writing a couple words down. "No injuries to either of your arms. I'm going to examine your chest now. Please remain still."

"Mmh, you go wherever you want, honey. I ain't complaining."

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes at his incessant and ribald comments. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Paying it no more than a second thought, you centered your hands to the zipper of his jacket, gently pulling it down and opening it to reveal a dirty white button up and a halfway undone red tie.

"Ooh, careful now." His southern accent lingered with a teasing tone.

You kept your lips in a thin line as you moved his jacket out of the way, bringing your hands up to lightly touch near his collarbones. Feeling no tenderness or abrasions, you slowly shifted your hands down towards his chest. Gently prodding at his muscles, Coyle uttered a snicker.

"Ya like what you feel?"

You scoffed at that, not sparing him a look.

"Please remain quiet, too."

He let out a deep laugh, tilting his head back against the table and staring up at the tiled ceiling. You continued with your prodding, hands feeling down the center of his stomach. You pressed down on his abdomen, hard enough to feel for aches, but careful enough to not cause them. You glanced at Coyle's expression, examining for any looks of pain, but all you saw was a shit-eating smirk. Taking it as a sign, you moved towards his sides, giving them a small prod.

Coyle's body tensed under your fingers and the smallest hitch of a breath caught in his throat. Thankfully, your sense were sharp enough to notice it. You stilled your hands and surveyed his face with curiosity.

"Did that cause any pain?"

Coyle breathed in, playing it off as just a twitch with a sickening grin.

"You can keep feelin' me up, sweetness."

You shook your head, an annoyed expression overtaking your concerned one. Focusing back on his frame, you lightened the touch on his sides just barely, prodding once more. This had the opposite effect of what you thought it would, as he twitched again and choked on a cough, so with a huff, you glanced back at him.

"Sir, I need to know if there are any injuries on you."

You noticed Coyle didn't meet your gaze as he spoke, instead turning his head off to the side and speaking in a rather sheepish manner. "Nothin' hurts, just sensitive is all."

"Sensitive how? Does it ache?"

"Not exactly..." he trailed off, the smallest of a redness showing on his face. He quickly redirected his manner though, that stupid smirk playing on his lips.

You stared at him for a moment, lifting an eyebrow at his vagueness, before the realization hit you. It tickled him. You said nothing as you peered back at his sides, a tiny smirk of your own replacing your confused expression. You knew this was supposed to be a quick procedure, no longer than five minutes, but perhaps you could show some unprofessionalism for a bit.

Without speaking, you pretended like you were moving on to a new region to exam, but once you saw the smallest breath of relief roll off his chest, you struck your at his sides again, giving them both a harsh squeeze.

A choked laugh ripped from his throat and he jerked, hands struggling against the straps that held them down. His head snapped towards you, his eyes staring daggers into you through his aviators.

"WHAT in the he-hell was that?!"

"Coyle, sir, it's very crucial that you stay as still as possible."

You prodded his sides again with the same amount of force, lips curling up into a bigger grin as you watched his face twist into a crooked smile. He barked out another laugh, but his expression quickly became very angry, his fists banging against the metal.

"Juhust what the f-fuck do ya think yer' doing?"

You made no move to hide your amused expression, keeping your hands latched on his torso. "I'm performing the examination, sir. Please keep the foul language to a minimum."

"Oho, you fuhuckin'- HA!"

Another squeeze higher up on his sides made him buck his hips against the leather straps at his waist, deep voice raising an octave with a laughter-mixed shout. He stared down at you with furrowed eyebrows, a growl seething through his teeth, but not without the wobbly grin. You paid him no mind, narrowing your own eyebrows in mock concern, giving a small hum. "It seems like this area here needs to be looked at further. Let me know how it feels."

"YOU MOTHERFU-"

Any further profanities were drowned out by the sound of rough laughter and the clanking of metal, the tasers on his upper sides producing heavy cackles and pulling at restraints. Your quick fingers gave him no break, squeezing up and down in a way that was absolutely unbearable for the officer.

"Ohh, I'm sorry, sir," you began, amusement clear as day in your tone, "does this tickle?"

He snarled through his teeth, shaking his head against the table, his hands balled up into tight fists. "N-NO! God dammit-"

"You're telling me it doesn't tickle here?" You prodded at his lower sides, fingers curling towards the round of his back. Another buck of his hips and an ugly cackle betrayed his words. You stared up and into his glasses, giving him an expectant look.

"YOHOU JUST WAIT TIL' IM OUTTA HERE!"

A cocky smile crept to your lips and you pinched at him again. "I'm not sure you're in the position to be throwing threats towards me." Another pinch. Coyle's body shook, half with laughter and half with frustration, an embarrassment that could practically be seen glowing from the redness on his face.

You paused your pinching to turn to your folder again, picking up the pen and speaking aloud as you wrote. "Subject shows extreme sensitivity to the left and right upper quadrant." Coyle growled at your words, chest heaving up and down. You turned back to look at him with a small, innocent smile before writing down some more. "Further examination needs to be brought to the lower quadrants."

Coyle chuckled, disbelief and cockiness intermixed with a dirty grin. "Ohoho, I just knew ya wanted yer' hands on me."

You sighed, sitting down the pen and stepping in front of him once more. "Cops just never learn, I guess."

Coyle titled his head and furrowed his brows in confusion, wondering what the hell you meant by that. Before he could retort with another snarky comment, your hands landed on his hips. He tensed up, head leaning against the cold metal and hands turning white from the ball he had them in.

"Don't you fuckin' dare."

"Aww, is the big, bad officer too ticklish?"

He banged his fists against the table, the sound echoing through the room.

"Shut yer' fuckin- MOUTHAHA!"

Without a word, you launched a rough squeeze to his hips, smirking and having to contain a laugh from the cry that sounded from his lips. He bucked his hips repeatedly, the straps giving him little room to squirm around. They slammed back into the table, your hands following and giving another squeeze.

His reactions were very amusing. How could someone as evil as him be so sensitive? Another cackle was followed with a suck of the air through gritted teeth. You peeked up at him, seeing that hue of red slowly making its way down his neck and onto his ears. Shooting him a grin, you switched tactics and slowly walked your nails around his hips.

Coyle's breath hitched and out came a spew of giggles, which made you quite surprised. He kicked his feet out, or as much as he could, and shook his head with an askew smile.

"Sohon of a bihihitch! Fuhuhuckin' enough!"

"Aww, just listen to those giggles."

Your fingers trailed in circles in his hips and up to his sides again, then traced onto the middle of his stomach. He tittered, trying to seal his giggles and small noises of sensitivity. His nose scrunched up and he stared at the wall, too embarrassed to look you in the eyes.

"Ihih'm gonna fuhucking KIHILL YOU!"

You laughed in his face, sparing him a mock pitiful glance with a sly grin. "Hmm, that's not very nice. Did you forget you're the one strapped to a table?" You gave a quick scribble to his stomach. You felt him suck in with an added giggle, driving you to spider your fingers over his abdomen further.

"I think we need to do a further inspection, sir. I need to physically see there's no bruises or cuts on your torso."

Coyle could hear the devilish grin on your face with the teasing tone you spoke in. Slowly, you untucked his button up shirt from his pants and lifted it up, revealing his somewhat toned muscles and happy trail. He shivered when the air hit his skin, quickly growling and shaking his fists.

"WHA- YOU CAN'T DO THAT! You just can't!"

"Actually," you started, lightly skimming your nails on his warm middle. He twitched, sucking in another breath and playing a tiny giggle off as a cough. "I legally am allowed to give a further examination if deemed necessary. And by all your squriming," you poked his side, "I think it's highly required."

Another growl, another threat. "Get yer' filthy hands oHOFF ME!"

Another scribble.

Maybe his evil, sick, and twisted demeaner had finally crashed down by the boyish giggles that sounded from his throat. You let out a tiny giggle yourself, excuse your improperness, and trailed your fingers maddeningly slow all around his stomach.

"Hmm," you quipped, "I don't see any scratches or grazes so far."

"Hah-How the fuhuck is this, aha, required?!"

"Well, sir," you dug your fingers in fast, no longer than a second, making him yelp and arch his back, "it seems to me this region is making you squeal, so proper testing is due before I conclude your examination"

Coyle coughed, angrily barking out at you. "Squeal?! I'm gonna make you fucking squeal, sweetness!"

You gave him an innocent smile that contradicted your guilty fingers, which were back to gliding over his twitching skin. You inched your way down his stomach, fingers grazing the hair in the lower middle of his abdomen. The lower you got, the higher his giggles increased in pitch. You stopped your fingers when you hit a particularly sensitive spot right above his pant line, making him gasp. You looked up at him with mock concern.

"Ah, is it sensitive right here? I think I need to check."

Coyle shook his head, aviators staring down and into your mischievous eyes. Oh, if he could just get his hands on you. Coyle's restrained hands reached out for you, making you puff out a short laugh at his failure.

"You don't need to c-check shit!"

"Oh, but it would be very unprofessional of me if I didn't."

With just one finger, you drifted it teasingly unhurried on his lower stomach, making his skin quiver underneath the delicate touch. His airy giggles came back, resonating through the area between you two. Back and forth, you continued your slow pace that drove him up the wall with giggly madness.

"Fuhuhuck yohou, quihihit that!"

"I'm sorry, Coyle, but it's not my fault you're so ticklish. This is an ongoing examination still."

His giggles rose in speed, along with the warmth on his face from your teases. The trembling of his stomach only increased when you added another finger into the mix, slow and deliberate tracing making a bead of sweat roll down his chest. You kept up with this until you figured it was time to find another spot. You eyed his torso curiously before glancing up at him.

"Do your ribs hurt?"

Coyle jerked and reached out to grab at you again, a snarl pouring from his mouth. You took this as a sign he was exceedingly sensitive there, so of course, as a professional, you had to check there.

You prodded at his lower ribs, earning a sharp hyena-like laugh and a twitch. You grinned, giving another well placed prod. "Ah, I thought so. Let's make sure nothing is broken."

"NOHO! FUHUCK- fuhuhucking hell!"

Your hands found both sets of his ribs, thumbs wrapping around the center of them and fingers poised at his back. Wasting no time, you dug your fingers in, giving them a small shake to really make Coyle yell. He arched his back again with another cackle, slamming it back down onto the table. He shook tremendously in the straps. You were honestly surprised he hadn't broken out of them.

"YOU P-PIECE OHOHOF SHIHIHIT!"

"Now, now," you tutted, giving a disapproving shake of your head, "that's no way to speak to a professional."

"THIHIHIS IS-AH! THIS IS ASSAULT OF AHAN OFFICEHER!"

You chuckled, bringing a hand up to tweak at his uppermost rib. "Oh please, you are far from an officer now."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand was trying to reach for the baton on the small side table. Ah, that must also be his. You stopped your prodding and glanced between his sunglasses and the weapon that lied dormant on the metal cart.

"What exactly does that do?"

He greedily sucked in deep breaths of air, chest rising and falling in swift motions. With a coughed-out chuckle, he shook his head.

"Yer' gonna find out soon enough if ya don't fuckin' stop."

You stared at the baton, wondering if it was worth the risk of potentially losing your job. You glanced up towards the camera in the corner of the room. You knew Easterman was watching the whole situation unfold. Figuring he would've already sent someone in to stop you if this whole thing was unethical, you picked up the baton.

"HEY!" Coyle barked, "you put that down immediately!"

Paying him no attention, you inspected the weapon and saw a dial at the end of the stick. Curiosity getting the best of you, you turned the dial up, resulting in blue sparks lighting up the metal prongs. Coyle stared daggers into the back of your head, growling deeply at the sight of you messing with what was his toy.

You shot a look towards him before staring back at the baton. He noticed your curious face and the way you eyed him, so he shook his head and spoke in a low, menacing tone.

"Don't you even fucking think about it."

"I wonder," you uttered, turning the dial to the lowest setting, noticing how the sparks shrunk smaller and less intense, "how the body would react to a quick spark?"

Coyle grimaced, tilting his head down at you intimidatingly. "You get me outta this and I'll show ya myself."

You chuckled, turning your body back towards him with the weapon crackling in your hand. "Nice try, sir."

Without a moments hesitation, you drew the baton near his left side. Before the sparks even hit his skin, Coyle started thrashing around, whole body rattling against the restraints. His yell bounced off the walls of the small room.

"FUCKER! I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD-"

Any further words were shut down by the absolute scream that rushed out of him, followed by intense and boisterous laughter as you lightly pressed the prongs against his bare skin. The electricity sent powerful shocks through his side, spreading throughout his torso and heightening his nerves. Coyle's entire body thrashed, back arching and hips bucking out. He threw his head back against the metal, mouth shaped in a wide and open smile. His skin burned with mirth and embarrassment, a bit of sweat dripping from underneath his cap.

"Ooh," you teased, switching the baton to his other side, "such a bad reaction. I can't imagine how much it tickles."

Coyle's laughter went silent, hands extending out and contracting with each shake of his shoulders. A sharp intake of breath and he howled again before wheezing out laughs. You took great joy in reducing him to nothing but a convulsing heap of laughter; giving the officer what he deserves, albeit a bit childishly. You smirked up at him, cockily staring into the depths of his dark sunglasses, wondering if he was even looking at you in his mirth.

"You better hope I'm not the one to give you an examination next time."

"FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU! AGH!"

He screeched when he suddenly felt the baton right above his navel, lightly pressing down and lighting up his nerves even more. Instantly, he was driven to silent laughter, uncontrollably shaking from the intensity of how much it fucking tickled. You kept it there, relishing in the way you were breaking him.

"I think that's enough now, Doctor."

Easterman's voice rang out from the overhead speakers. While you could hear the amusement in his voice, you knew he meant it. You supposed they needed him alive still. So, reluctantly, you lifted the baton off his bare stomach and turned it off, gently sitting back on the cart.

Coyle coughed out in wheezes, small puffs of laughs still lingering and forcing themselves out of his throat. His sweat-glistening chest heaved up and down, grateful for the termination. While allowing him to regain his breath, you wrote down a few more notes. You turned back to him when he drawled out in a deep voice.

"You got a lotta nerve doin' what you just did. Jus' wait until we meet again."

You gave him a sympathetic smile, reaching out to give his side a small poke. "Aw, you'll be in this same position when I see you again."

He jerked, puffing out an aggravated laugh. "Oho, no, sweetness, I'll find ya and pay you back tenfold."

You patted his chest with a chuckle. "I'm going to conclude this examination now, sir. I believe you're well enough to go."

You brought his button up back down and loosely tucked it into his pants, making sure to take a few more swipes at his stomach to make him squirm. You grabbed the sides of his leather jacket and zipped it up neatly. Through his glasses, he stared at you with a dark and looming aura, a menacing smirk on his face.

"You go on, honey. I'll get ya into my hands one way or 'nother real soon."

"That's a lot of threatening from someone so ticklish." You grinned and picked up the folder, shooting him a look of amusement and watching the grimace twist up on his face. You turned your back to him and made your way towards the door, hearing him mumble under his breath and giving it no thought.

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Lee

⚡ Leland's never been tickled much, not when he was a kid and especially not in Murkoff. But surprisingly enough he is.

⚡ His hips, stomach and his neck is probably where you'd get him best.

⚡ He doesn't like surprises. So don't try to sneak up on him, you will leave with a black eye or much worse.

⚡ Gooseberry has gotten him a few time while playing the "mother" role, and Leland hates it.

⚡ He hates doctor check ups, and he hates them more if the doctor find out his little secret.

⚡ Let's say you're a reagent that some how gets close to him, you'll probably be the only soul on earth that Leland will willingly let tickle him.

⚡ Franco poked Leland once while the two bickered, Leland almost fried the younger man right then and there when Franco tried again.

⚡ He's not one to be embarrassed around tickles unless he's on the receiving end of it.

Ler

⚡ Leland is... well... ruthless, probably the worst one to get his hands on you out of all the assets when it comes to tickling.

⚡ This man is not letting you go until either Gooseberry tells him off or you're on the verge of passing out.

⚡ He's a teaser 100% "Look at ya, I don't even need my baton to get you squirmin'." that type of shit.

⚡ Speaking of his baton. don't think you're safe from that either. turn that thing all the way down to the lowest setting and it's hell.

⚡ If you're hiding from him, sometimes he likes to pretend he can't see you before striking.

⚡ He's not gentle either, no no, that man will have you screaming and crying from tickles.

⚡ His usual targets are usually the reagents. but sometimes, if Franco pisses him off just enough, the whole facility could probably hear him.

⚡ Will ramble on about the reason why he's tickling you is punishment for "breaking the law." or "running from police."

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I LOVE COYLE SM! thank you for the request :3

With each passing minute, he was only growing angrier. There hadn't been a single reagent within his line of sight since he was released from the gates. He would catch glimpses of a door closing, or a window being smashed open. It would've had to been more than fifteen minutes now. Every time he heard a sound that indicated where his prey might be, there would be nothing once he got there. The reagents were making progress, sneaking around like rats in the sewers. This game of cat and mouse was infuriating him to no end.

Coyle wasn't entirely alone though, as another prime asset was wandering through the halls the same as him; another cat in this hell of a game. Mother Gooseberry was on the side of the courthouse, hoping to find some prey of her own. Coyle wondered if she had any luck of her own, if she was downing reagents and getting all the fun.

Hell, why not go over there too and investigate for himself?

Grumbling to himself, he marched to the far side of the courthouse. The whole way there was silence, with no traces of his next victims. Just who the hell did they think they were? In his courthouse? Making him look like a fool? He tried to stay calm, tried to remind himself no one had gotten past him before. Yes, it only added to the fun. If hiding is what they liked, he would abide.

Coyle came across Gooseberry, who was checking a nearby locker. She heard his stomping behind her, so she turned around with a kind smile. "Oh! Officer, what are you doing on this side? Have you got them all already?"

Coyle scoffed, looking off to the side and taking the cigarette between his finger, throwing it to the ground and putting it out with his boot. "Shit, can't even find one of them fuckers."

Gooseberry took notice of the hostility laced in his words, more hostile than usual whenever he spoke to her. She gave a sympathetic smile, putting a hand on her hip and speaking in a sing-song voice. "Oh, don't worry, sir. They can't hide forever!"

Coyle rolled his eyes under his sunglasses, grabbing another cigarette from his belt and using his baton to light it. He switched off the weapon and placed it in its holster. He brought his hands to his belt buckle, staring off into one of the rooms and rolled the cigarette around between his lips. "Don't tell me you haven't found any of em' either." He looked back at her with a raised brow.

Gooseberry's head fell a little, and she peered down at the tiled floor. "Well..."

Coyle pressed on, his brows becoming furrowed at her one-worded response. "Well what?!"

The woman looked toward the goose puppet on her hand before hesitantly lifting her head back to Coyle, uncertainty in her tone. "Dad-I mean Doctor Futterman and I haven't found anyone yet..."

"Jesus fuck!" Coyle spat, his harsh words echoing off the walls at the loudness of his voice. He took a long drag of his cigarette before putting it back in his hand and flicking the ash on the ground, pacing back and forth with a growl. Gooseberry took a step back, looking to Doctor Futterman and back at Coyle with a concerned expression.

"Now, now, officer. We'll come across them eventually! You can't have a bad attitude and expect to find them easily!"

Her words only angered Coyle more, and he glared at her and crossed his arms. "I don't have a god damn bad attitude! Those fuckers are in my house. They need to play by my rules!"

Gooseberry bit her lip, uncertain about his sudden enraged character. She stepped forward a bit, placing a hand on her skirt. "Well have we ever let them get away before?"

Coyle shook his head, but he still had an angered expression. "No. No we ain't. But have you even seen those pieces of shits yet?!"

"Not exactly..."

Coyle growled, seemingly working himself up and snarling towards the woman. He stared at her beneath his aviators, his brows furrowed and lips in a scowl. He clenched his jaw, giving her a nasty look she's never seen from him before. "What the fuck have you been doing then?! Playing with your fuckin' puppet?"

Gooseberry furrowed her eyebrows. Her gentle smile had turned into a frown of her own. "Now that is no way to speak to me, sir!"

Coyle scoffed, placing a hand on his belt and throwing his other arm at her. "Why the fuck did I have to get paired up with you. Nothin' but a crazy nut job." His volume was quieter as he spoke now, but there was still that harshness in his words that made Gooseberry frown further.

She shook her head; she wasn't going to let this man ruin her mood. She also was growing a bit impatient at not finding any reagents, but was she yelling about it? Throwing a fit like a child? No!

The smile appeared back on her face, and she walked closer to Coyle, almost right in front of him now. "Officer, we can go and look for them together!"

Coyle grumbled underneath his breath, taking the cigarette from his fingers and putting it back in his mouth, his head titled at the floor in thought. "Those fuckers gotta be close..."

"But we're not going anywhere until there's a smile on your face!"

He snapped his attention back towards her, his head lifting up in shock. "Excuse me?"

Gooseberry let out a tiny giggle. "Well you can't be grumpy the whole time! It won't help in our search."

Coyle gaped at her, bewildered by her childish statements. "The fuck? I ain't playing a damn game around here."

"Oh come on, sir, show me a smile!" Gooseberry reached out to him and pinched his side. Coyle let out a bark, combined with something just short of a giggle. The cigarette fell from between his lips, and he backed up with a hand covering where she had touched him.

"The hell was that?!"

Gooseberry gave a giggle of her own, quickly stepping towards him again and giving him a squeeze to his other side. Coyle gasped, the tiniest of a wobbly smile playing on his lips. It was quickly replaced by an angry expression though, as he snarled at her. "Get yer' damn hands off me!"

"How else will you cheer up though? This is how I'd always put the children in a better mood!"

"I'm not a fucking child!"

"You sure are acting like one though!"

With that, Gooseberry sprang into action. She managed to follow Coyle, who was backing up with his hands out defensively and throwing profanities at her. His back hit the wall, and Gooseberry had him trapped right where she wanted him.

"Don't fucking touch mehehe-"

Coyle felt her hand arrive on his side, giving him those god awful squeezes that made him cough out a laugh and try to push her hands away. She did have him trapped though; there wasn't a way to evade her touches since she had him against the wall. Her hands weren't moving away either, no matter how hard he pushed and yanked.

"Aww, is someone a little ticklish?"

Her hand continued to squeeze up and down his waist, hitting all the spots that were extra sensitive and prompting Coyle to stutter and tut out small, raspy giggles.

"To hehehell I'm nohot!"

Gooseberry cooed, switching from pinches to scribbles all over his side. Coyle took in a breath, squirming around and trying to conceal the deep laughter that was threatening to make itself heard.

"Owh, you aren't ticklish? Then why are you giggling so cutely?"

Coyle growled through his tutters, hands shaking and torso twisting at each scribble. He was close to breaking though, if the smile that was creeping onto his face was anything to go by. "I-I'm nohot g-giggling!"

He yelled out the last part of his sentence, making Gooseberry tut and give him a disapproving look. She quickly reached up to his ribs and gave him a tweak. He barked out a laugh and threw his head back against the wall. "Now that is no way to speak to Mother!"

Coyle sucked in a breath, hands still pushing against her forearms. Doctor Futterman sat on one of her hands, the drill inside his mouth peeking out a bit and letting Coyle know he wasn't getting out of this any time soon.

"I ain't a dahamn kid!"

"You sure are ticklish like one! Let me see that smile!"

This whole situation was absurd, but damn her scribbles were getting to him. How could she break him with just a single hand? And the way she sang when she teased him. The walls were going to come crashing down soon.

Gooseberry's hand crawled down to his hip, her fingers pinching at the bone and making Coyle let out a half screech. His sunglasses threatened to fall off his eyes and his legs shook, trying their best to stay up against the tile. The smile was on his face now, his teeth gritting against one another as he tried his best to not let any more embarrassing sounds emit.

"Ooh, is this a bad spot, hmm?"

"N-no!"

"Give me some giggles, sir!"

She moved to his other hip, pinching swiftly and not letting up. The dam broke, and Coyle's laughter flooded through the halls of the courthouse. He folded over, giggles overtaking his grunts and stutters. Gooseberry cooed again, letting out a giggle of her own at his reactions.

"Aww, there they are! Just listen to those cute sounds!"

"N-nohoho! G-get, ahh! Gehet off!"

Deep, raspy laughs sounded from him as Gooseberry brought her hand back to his side and spidered it up to his ribs. Her fingers found vacancy on the sides of his ribs, where they poked and prodded in the divots. Coyle snapped back up, back arching at the touch and twisting away. Her fingers followed though, never leaving the spot. His mouth was wide in an upright smile, his teeth showing behind his lips.

"Aw, the mean little cop is actually adorable! Tickle tickle tickle!"

Coyle had the faintest blush painted on his cheeks, his smile turning wobbly as he tried to hide how her teasing was affecting him. "Y-you're fuhuhucking crahahazy!"

Gooseberry mock gasped, tweaking her fingers against the tops of his ribs to make him bark out a cackle. "I think you need to learn some manners!"

Coyle shook his head, black aviators hiding his eyes that were crinkled shut in giggles and coughs. His hands attempted in protecting his torso while also pushing her hand away, but it was of no use. She found a way around his hands and kept up with the random scribbles and tweaks.

"FUHUCK ohohoff!"

"Uh uh uh!" Gooseberry tutted with a disapproving shake of her head. "For someone so ticklish, you sure do have a bad mouth!" Her hand came down on his lower ribs, pinching the sides of them and curling her fingers into his back. He jerked at the touch, a guffaw escaping his lips and making him snarl in between his laughs.

"Gohohonna kihill yohou-"

"Hmm? What was that? I couldn't hear you over those pretty laughs!"

Coyle's knees threatened to give in and his footing fought for balance. He dropped his head, the wide smile never leaving his face as giggles spewed out of him and the blush on his cheeks became effervescent.

Gooseberry noticed the pink hue on his cheeks and she giggled, letting out a small coo that was almost unheard by the sound of Coyle's laughter. "Aww, is that a blush I see?"

"NOHO! DAMMIT!"

"Ooh, but I think it is! Let me see that handsome face!"

She brought her hand up to his neck, fluttering her fingers ever so delicately over his exposed skin, and she traced them up to behind his ear. Coyle's head twitched back up and met his shoulder that collided with the side of his face, doing its best to block out the tickling sensations that made him stutter out and giggle.

"Fuhuhuck-ah! Ehehenough!"

Gooseberry had a bright smile, fingers remaining unbothered and scratching away at his neck, lingering towards the back of it and making him shrug both his shoulders up with a broad grin. His hands were up at his neck, gripping at her hand and ultimately failing to pull it away.

She used the opportunity to dive back to his ribs, closer to his underarms this time, and dug her fingers into his leather jacket. Coyle full on screeched, his arms crashing tightly to his sides while laughter poured out of him. Gooseberry gasped, snickering at the way his head was thrown back and his smile grew further.

"Oh goodness! You're super ticklish here! Don't you think so?"

"NAHA-dammit! Nohoho!"

"No? You aren't super duper extra ticklish right here on your ribs?"

Any more of her teasing and Coyle was surely going to combust. While he would never say it aloud, it really did fucking tickle. And her words made him blush really fucking bad.

"NOHO-HAH! S-SHIHIHIT!"

"I think you're lying to me! It's never good to lie, officer. You of all should know that! If you say how ticklish you are, I'll let you go!"

If Coyle could gape at her in shock, he would. But the digging into his high ribs was driving him to insanity. But there was no way in hell he would ever say that. It was absolute blasphemy and he had a reputation to uphold.

"NOT A FUHUCKING CHAHANCE!"

Gooseberry giggled. "Okay then! Tickle tickle!"

"EHENOUGH OF THAHAT!"

The blush on Coyle's face was only deepening with her teasing and it was flustering him to no end. The hand on his ribs crept higher to his underarms and he barked, arching his back and letting out choked laughter. His arms were still squeezed shut to his sides, but it didn't deter her wiggling fingers.

"Aww, does the teasing make it worse? Does it make it tickle more?

Coyle shook his head, laughter flowing from his lips and sounding throughout the open space around them. His legs fought to hold him up, his feet sliding against the floor a little as he twisted from side to side.

"SHUHUHUT YER' MOUTH, WOMAHAHAN!"

Gooseberry sighed, feigning disappointment, but keeping her hand under his arm and wiggling deeply into his jacket. "I thought you had learned your manners. So naughty..."

She suddenly grabbed his arm and lifted it over his head, using Doctor Futterman on her hand as a weight to hold it over him. Coyle gasped through his laughter and yell out pleas, shaking his head with a nervous smile. He instantly used his other hand to protect his underarm and yanked on the one she was holding up.

Gooseberry predicted this though, as she quickly brought her free hand down to his hip, pinching rapidly and causing Coyle to shriek and lower his hand to push hers away. She giggled at him, advancing her hand back up to his exposed underarm now and digging her fingers in deeply.

Coyle screamed, laughter rushing out of him and teetering on the edge of silence. He stomped his foot against the floor, squirming around and pulling on her hand with all the strength he had left. His stomach ached with how hard he was laughing, and Gooseberry could see how badly it was affecting him.

"What do you say to Mother, hmm?"

He growled through his laughter, too stubborn to say what she wanted to hear. She dug her fingers in more though, and Coyle instantly folded.

"F-FUHUCK-AH! I'M SOHOHORRY!"

"Aww, you poor, ticklish cop! I bet this tickles so much! Don't you agree?"

He groaned, the embarrassment creeping up his neck and spreading to his entire body. He shook on the edge of silent laughter, nodding his head at her question.

"Hmm? I can't hear you!"

Coyle didn't want to say it. He didn't want to put up with the humiliation of admitting it. But fuck, he didn't know how much longer he could withstand this. So maybe, just maybe, it'd be worth it to say what she wanted to hear and get it over with.

He stuttered out through deep, hoarse laughter. He squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to look at her as he spoke, the blush crimson on his face.

"IHIHIT T-TIHIHICKLES GOD D-DAMMIT!"

Gooseberry immediately stopped, bringing her hand out of his underarm and stepping away from him with a snicker. Coyle coughed out and greedily took in deep breaths of air, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He put his hands on his knees, taking in as much air as he could with a wobbly smile and heat radiating off his cheeks.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

He refused to look Gooseberry in the eye, instead pretending like he was still catching his breath. Gooseberry caught on though, letting out a tiny giggle. "Aw, did I embarrass you?"

Coyle glared at her from behind his sunglasses, the pink on his face still clear as day. He tried his best to give her an angered expression, but it failed miserably as he couldn't get the tiny grin off his face. He mumbled under his breath, taking a cigarette from his belt and putting it in his mouth.

"Whatever."

Suddenly, the alarm for the reagents to exit the trial sounded throughout the courthouse. Coyle furrowed his brows, giving Gooseberry a mean look as he took the baton and sparked it up, lighting his cigarette and stomping towards her. "Now we'll never get those fuckers!"

Gooseberry smiled gently, waving her hand at him and shaking her head. "Well, someone had a bad attitude that needed to be fixed!"

Coyle wanted to scream at her, but he'd just be proving her point. He mumbled underneath his breath, taking a drag of his cigarette and adjusting his aviators. Gooseberry couldn't hear what he said, so she stepped closer with her hand out, wiggling her fingers. "What was that? Do I need to teach you some manners again?

Coyle backed up instantly, throwing his hands in front of him and shaking his head. "N-no! Damn you..."

She giggled and put her hand down on her hip. "Aw, too ticklish for your own good!"

The blush was on his face again and he turned on his heel, refusing to say anything back to her and marching down the courthouse, a trail of smoke following behind him. Gooseberry giggled, also turning and going back to the insertion gates.

💀 Leland Coyle tickle headcanon's