#tickling fluff

With my arm resting on his ribcage, I studied the rhythm of his breathing, trying to figure out if he was still awake. We'd been in bed for around an hour according to my phone, which I'd just checked for the eighth time. I couldn't stop thinking about the audit in which I was mired at work, plus, my shoulder hurt from poor posture all week. I was tired, but I couldn't sleep. 

I rolled over, nuzzling my head into my pillow to try and get comfortable. To my surprise, Avery rolled with me, his long arms wrapping securely around my body. He enveloped me like an oversized beanbag – when I spooned him, I was more like his backpack. Avery sometimes rolled over in his sleep, but as I felt his hand move with intelligence against my hip, I spoke into the dark. 

“Are you awake…?”

“Mm… no.” He did sound sleepy. That cool palm slid up my body and under the hem of my t-shirt.

I exhaled slowly. “Good, you're not supposed to be.” 

“I could say the same to you.”  

His fingers traced down my bare tummy. I flinched. 

“Why are you so tense~?” He asked. 

“Aheh…” 

“Relax your belly.” 

I whimpered. 

“Casper, relax for me~” 

I bit my lip, but did as instructed, releasing my stomach muscles with a shaky exhale. As the pudge of my belly expanded into his palm, he gently grabbed at it. 

“Mm, there we go~ I love how soft you are, here…”

My legs twisted as I turned my face into the pillow, muffling giggles into it as he fondled and teased my vulnerable tummy. My hands knew better than to interfere with this ticklish evaluation.

“A-Ahavery…” 

“Yesss~?” 

I could hear his smile. I squirmed against the cool softness of his body. 

“That…!” 

“Mhmmm~?” 

I tensed again, my muscles knitting together. This was met with a punishing fingertip wiggling into my navel. 

“Ah, ah~ You know better. Do I need to get mean~?”

“P-pleahease…” My ears burned. 

“Please…? You want me to get mean?” 

Oh, no. 

“No, no wahahait-!” 

“Well, who am I to turn down such an invitation?” 

His curious fingertips turned into a plush claw as all five digits dug into my belly. My bubbling giggles turned into a geyser of laughter I had no hope of holding back. 

“WAAAhahahaha!” My legs kicked, toes curling in futility. 

“If you won't relax your belly for me… I want you to at least complete your thought from earlier, please… Tell me what this does to you.”

Avery's politeness made the demand twice as scary. I grabbed a fistful of blanket; anything to help me resist grabbing his hand. I knew what was down that road. 

“I c-cahahahan’t!” I whined as he continued to wiggle his fingers into me, exciting all those wickedly sensitive nerves. I could barely hear his voice beneath my laughter; low, controlled. Amused. 

“You know how much meaner I could be than this~ Is that what you want?”

“Nohohoho!” His hand scampered across my tummy, lightly skittering to a new spot and then digging in again, with random breaks to gently pinch my side or hip. With every attempt to roll onto my stomach, he simply pulled me back with his gentle strength. I could feel the restrained power behind that touch; hands that could easily unrest a tree from the earth handled my human body like a priceless Fabergé egg. 

“Tell me, then…” 

His index finger found the crease at the top of my thigh, pressing it like a child presses a streetlight button when there's an ice cream parlor across the street and five dollars in his hand. My reaction was explosive. 

“WAAHAHAHAHAA! OKAHAHAY! OKAHHAHAY~!” 

The handful of blanket was damp with the sweat of my palm as the tweaking stopped. A pause heavy with expectation fell over us. 

“Well…?” 

“It… it…” My blush was so hot, I was sure Avery could see it in the dark. 

He chuckled against my back, placing a cool, refreshing kiss on the back of my neck. I wanted more… I wanted them all over. 

“Sing for me, dewdrop…” 

A single tweak into that crease made me jolt and gasp. 

“Fihihine! It…” I tucked my head into the pillow. “...Tickles…” 

“What was that? Apologies, I'm afraid you'll have to speak up…” 

I felt swift movement behind me and even before the attack, I realized that I had pushed Avery's ler rage too far. In an instant I was on my back, cushy cloud cuffs around my wrists as they rested above my head, Avery's leg like a lap bar across my thighs. His hand spidered over my torso, scribbling under my arms, my ribs, my belly. I howled with laughter, my back arching uselessly. 

“OKAHAHAY IT TIHIHICKLES! IT TIHIHICKLES!!” I cried through gale after gale of deep, hopelessly honest cackling. 

“Oh, it does? It tickles when I do this? Hm! Could that be because you're ticklish?” He'd adopted a casual, playful tone as he laid beside me, propping his head up with one hand as he tormented me with the other. 

“YEEHEHEHEHESSS!” What good was it to resist at this point? I didn't even bother tugging at the cuffs as he used a single fingertip to wiggle into one armpit, then the other, then back to a big, ticklish claw at my belly. I just laughed and laughed, letting it all pour out unimpeded by resistance. 

“Very good~! My goodness, such hair-raising laughter, all from such a small amount of stimulation…” 

He lifted my night shirt up to my ribs, then went back to gently pinching and grabbing at my belly pudge, patting, squeezing, and playing with it. 

“I'm sorry, I just can't get enough of this.”

“Plehehehehease stahahahap thahahahahat~!” I protested in a combination of ticklishness and embarrassment. Much as I was a huge proponent of body positivity, I wasn't exactly immune to insecurity; I'd packed on a few pounds from work stress. 

“I will never understand what you humans find shameful about fat on your bodies… especially here…” 

He shifted on the bed, repositioning so that he could nuzzle his cool face into my exposed middle. He kissed and cuddled, making me giggle shyly. 

“So soft and warm,” he cooed, peppering me with more kisses, the last one landing on my navel. 

I felt the cuffs around my wrists dissipate. I reached down, stroking the rolling curve of Avery's head, even as my belly quivered beneath his touch. 

“I love tickling you,” he said. “I love loving you. All of you, just as you are.” 

The corners of my eyes felt wet as he crawled back up the bed, wrapping his body possessively around mine, pulling me into him like he was an oyster and I his treasured pearl. I tucked into him, his cool arm a relief against my cheek as I rested my head on his bicep. The world disappeared around us; we were a mote of sanity glowing amidst a blackness of merciless chaos. 

“I'm so tired,” I whispered. 

“I know, sweetheart. Can you sleep, now?” 

“I think so.” My eyes were already closed; there was very little thought involved. 

It was quiet. Avery's breathing slowed. 

“Avery…” 

“Hm?”

“Don't let go… okay?” 

He pulled me in tighter. I felt his lips on the back of my head, nuzzling my hair. 

When Adam got back to their seats, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Ronan had stolen his. 

“Seriously?” His voice dripped with mock disbelief. 

Ronan let out a fake snore, completely unapologetic. 

He took his new aisle seat next to the very much awake Ronan. He leaned into him, making sure his tone was full of mock incredulity.

“You really think you're gonna get away with this?”

Despite pretending to be asleep, Ronan visibly stiffened at the tone. He let out another dramatic snore. 

Adam, his grin growing wider, reached out and gave the back of Ronan's neck a light tap, his fingers brushing along his skin just enough to make Ronan twitch.

“Oh Lynch,” Adam whispered in a singsong voice. “I never did return the favor from earlier.” Ronan’s eyes snapped open, but he kept his apathetic composure. 

“What? It’s not like you didn’t enjoy it.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Maybe I enjoyed it more than thinking about how many plane crashes happen every week, sure. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get you back.” 

“You’re not gonna get me back on this plane, Parrish,” Ronan retorted, glancing out the window in attempts to distract from the fact that he was praying internally to keep it together. 

Adam smirked before leaning in again. 

“You’re wedged between the window and me. You’ve got nowhere to run.” His fingers began crawling down Ronan’s side.

 He stiffened immediately, a flash of faux annoyance crossing his face. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, trying to squirm into the plane itself. 

“Oh, I dare,” Adam said, his voice low and teasing as his hand stilled over a particularly sensitive spot. “You’ve been begging for this all day.”

“I do not beg,” he growled again, this time with a bit more strain in his voice. Ronan Lynch did not lie, but his statement wasn't exactly truthful, either.

“We’ll see about that,” Adam grinned wickedly as his fingers quickly found a spot just below his ribcage. 

A small but sharp gasp left Ronan’s lips. He shot a quick, narrowed glance at Adam but didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, trying his best to maintain some semblance of control. 

Adam knew better. He tickled harder, his fingers wiggling just enough to cause a twitch. 

A soft laugh slipped past his lips but he quickly clamped down on it. He cleared his throat, shifting his body away again. 

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop—”

“Stop what?” Adam’s fingers fluttered around the same spot again. 

Ronan couldn’t fight it this time. A full laugh erupted from him, loud and unmistakable. 

“Wait! Adamnotthere—” Ronan gasped in one breath before another laugh spilled out. His eyes were wide now and his face a little too flushed, but the more he fought it, the more unbearable the sensation became. 

“Don’t tell Blue I said this, but you look like you were asking for it,” he grinned with mock sweetness while playing his ribs up and down. 

Ronan groan-laughed, unable to retort with something clever. Giggly joy would be the first thing to pour out of his mouth if opened and he knew it. Unlike how defensive Adam had tried to be, Ronan’s arms were still across his chest, crossed in quiet acceptance. Adam felt light headed after that realization. It was probably just the elevation. 

Laughter spilled out in an uncontrollable burst as Adam hit a particularly sweet spot at the top of his ribcage. Finally unlocking his arms, he desperately swatted at the attacking fingers. An especially ticklish spot was hit and, out of fear of being heard and definitely not just wanting to be closer to Adam, Ronan shoved his face into his shoulder and cackled helplessly. 

“Not so tough now, huh?” Adam teased gently into his ear. All he could feel was laughter into skin, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest. 

“I’m gonna kihihihill you—” Ronan’s threat was accompanied by a pleading muffle-laugh, rendering it far less effective than usual. Adam gave into his merciful side, easing up. His eyes twinkled with amusement as Ronan pulled back to catch his breath. 

“You’re not as tough as you think, you know,” he said, still grinning.

Ronan was still panting, his face flushed a deep pink. “You’re a dick. You have no idea what you’ve just started. And I’m sticking Chainsaw on you when we land.” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Adam hummed. “But you could have her peck my eyes out and I’d still do it again to hear that laugh.”

🍂 Switch!Pest (he/they), Switch!Poob (they/them) 🎃

feat. Gnarpy, Split, Wallter, Infected, Dr. Retro, and Mark being goofy goobers

The large, almost blocky looking house loomed above them, with lights flashing through the windows and music blaring. Pest almost regret coming, but they had nothing better to do and thought maybe they could snag a few coins from the partygoers inside. He knocked on the door, and almost instantaneously Poob flung the door open.

"PESTY!!!" they exclaimed, quickly pulling Pest into a hug they were not-so-fond of, but couldn't be bothered to deny it. Poob released him, and scooted backwards into the house, beckoning for him to follow them. He reluctantly followed into the living room, looking around and adjusting their eyes and ears to the lights and sounds.

They took note of Gnarpy and Infected in the corner of the room, having a mock fight, Gnarpy being acting animated with a dramatic air about xem as Infected yelled incoherent words, possibly drunk. Split, Wallter, and Mark were hanging out near the couch, holding drinks in their hands and seemingly in a conversation. As Pest walked past them, Split waved her hand at them and smiled, before resuming to her drink and the convo.

Poob had already left Pest by the snack table, and was dancing excitedly near the boombox with Dr. Retro twisting and turning next to them (dancing? Pest was going to assume she was dancing.)

He was already getting overwhelmed by all the noises and lights, so, quickly looking around to make sure nobody was watching, they grabbed all the food they could carry from the snack table and quickly moved down the hallway and into the farthest room where the music was quieter and not so ear-destroying. They sat down on the sofa, placing all their goodies next to them. They hadn't eaten in a day or so, having been too busy "collecting" money for his private projects, so, might as well. Unfortunately, he didn't do it stealthily enough.

Pest was about to pop a cupcake in his mouth when he heard a snicker and saw Poob in the doorway, looking at him and their stash. "Ya could've just asked me to make you actual food! This stuff is junky, no nutrients." They ran over and sat down next to Pest, making the sofa bounce a little upon impact. "But hey, are you okay? You're looking a lil nervous!" They tilted their head at Pest, trying to read their expression but knowing those red eyes reveal nothing.

Pest looked away, giving them the silent treatment knowing his plan at getting some snacks (and eventually if it worked, some people's money) failed. He was so focused on looking away that he hadn't noticed Poob's hand getting closer. "Somebody's getting grumpy." they teased, squeezing Pest's side and quickly scooting away on the couch, knowing how to rile up the beetle. Pest scoffed, letting out a clicky growl and a mischevious grin. "Oh, #### you!" They moved at scary speeds across the couch, spilling the food on the ground, too fast for Poob to be able to make a run for it, and instantly they were on top of them.

They squealed out of fright, their brain not moving fast enough to defend themself against an angry beetle. "I'M SORRY I'M S- SAHAOAHAHORY!!!!!!!!" They instantly fell into a laughing fit as Pest kneaded at their stomach, taken by surprise by how well their plan worked. It was about time they got revenge for that elevator fiasco.

Poob pushed and shoved at the beetle, but to no avail. Next best thing they could do was squirm and try to throw him off, trying to use their weight to make them fall off the couch. "PEEHEHEHEEHEST!!!"

They stopped and tilted their head down at them, looking at them with an innocent smile (well, as innocent as he could look, which just made them look more terrifying). "Hmm, yes?" He took note of the way Poob was already flustered to bits.

"I- I-" Poob's eyes looked at the wall and back at Pest, confusing them. What they didn't notice in that small moment was their hands inching to his sides...

Pest barked a laugh as Poob's fingers digged into his sides, flinching away enough for him to scoot up and overtake them. "IF IT'S A TICKLE FIGHT YOU WANT, YOU'LL GET IT!!" they yelled playfully, poking and prodding at their underarms. "NOHOOHO THAAHAAT ISN'T-" He yelped at Poob's dancing fingers going down to his belly, attacking the same spot he did on them. "That isn't what?? I'll let you know I WILL win this fight!" Poob teased.

He refused to let them win, using the last of his strength to squeeze at Poob's hips, causing them to let out a high-pitched squeal and to stop their onslaught for a second. Pest wriggled out from under Poob, crawling up on top of them again. "WAIT WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS-" "Talk about what?" Pest clicked their tongue, their hands sliding up to underneath Poob's arms against their ribs. They panicked, trying to kick him off, knowing that if they went there that would be the end of this little battle.

They dodged a quick kick from Poob, squeezing their knee and earning an adorable snort from them. "You're all kinds of sensitive, huh?" He mumbled, enjoying the sight before him. Poob blushed and tried pushing at him, stupidly exposing their ribs; Pest striked instantly. Poob turned into a hysteric, screaming mess, their pleas turning into incoherent gibberish as Pest clawed gently at their weak spot, Poob's clothes making the sensation 10x worse. Poob was so glad the music in the living room was too loud for anybody else to hear them go absolutely insane.

Poob gave up defending their sides and instead went back to bucking and kicking and now pushing at Pest's face, which was a huge mistake on their end. Pest's mandibles clamped down on their wrist, holding it in place, which meant they were now one defense short. He used one hand to attack their ribs, the other to scratch and scribble in their armpit, which made their laughter (somehow) get louder. Pest chuckled to himself, and, finally satisfied in their revenge, stopped and let Poob breathe, releasing their arm as well.

Tears were flowing down Poob's face from laughing so hard, and they continued to giggle from the phantom sensations, covering their face with their hands. Pest climbed off, watching them as they slowly sat up, pulling their legs towards themself. Poob's party hat and Pest's cap had fallen off during that little fight, now laying on the floor unfortunately laying in a splattered mess of frosting from the cupcakes.

Pest felt funny, struggling to take their eyes off of Poob as they watched them pick up their hat and (grossly) put it back on their head with it still covered in frosting. He enjoyed the way they were smiling, and he couldn't help but think they had a cute, bubbly laugh that he wouldn't mind hearing again, on a different day.

"Do you uh...... need help? Cleaning up." They said, looking at the mess as they picked up their own cap and tried to flick specks of food off of it.

"Uh yeah, if you dohon't mind-" A small giggle escaped Poob, finding it sorta funny Pest would offer to help them clean up of all things. They definitely wouldn't mind some more alone time with him, though. They smiled, and the sight gave Pest a strange feeling in his chest that wasn't his usual hatred for the bubbly character, and confused him more. Somehow, it made them feel a little happy to spend some more time with Poob.

-=+=- LATER...

The music had been turned down, and the strobe lights turned off. It was almost midnight by now. Infected had fell asleep with a lamp on his head, and Dr. Retro and Mark had left a bit ago to get some proper rest. Which left her with Gnarpy and Wallter, who were currently watching whatever interesting documentary was on at this hour on the T.V.

Split had thought she heard a yell near the back of the house, but because of how dark it was once the lights were off, she was too scared to investigate and had just told herself it was an owl. She's been wondering where Poob and Pest had gone off to.

"Hey.. guys?" she said.

"UGHHH. What iz it NOW??" Gnarpy spat out, annoyed at Split having distracted xem from the documentary. It was an alien documentary, and xe had been interested in how similar aliens looked to xeir own species.

Wallter yawned, looking as if he was about to fall asleep on the spot. "...Yeah?"

"Do you know where Poob and Pest went? They've been missing for a couple hours."

"They're probably making out or zzzomething!!! That'z what you lozerzz do right?" Xe flicked xeir tail, focusing on the T.V. again. Wallter blinked at Gnarpy, then looked at Split. "Uhhh... how do we know that bug didn't kill Poob? You know they hate them."

Split gasped and quickly got up. "WE NEED TO FIND THEM!!!"

Wallter yawned again, and adjusted himself to be more comfortable on the couch. "I dunno. Sure they're fine. We'd have heard screaming if it was true."

This freaked Split out more when she remembered the yelling she heard earlier, so that she wiped her glasses clean, quietly sprinted down to the hallway she heard the sounds from, and turned the hallway light on. Tip-toeing nervously down it, she peeked in every other room, shakily turning the lights on in ones she was unsure of.

The last room she peeked in, calmed her down. "Oh..." she breathed, looking at Poob and Pest sleeping next to each other against the couch, cleaning supplies next to them. She didn't know whether to bother them or not, but she quickly went to search for the bedroom again, grabbed the nearest blanket she could, and very slowly and silently wrapped it around them.

The pilot had warned that takeoff would be bumpy, so Adam knew he really shouldn’t have been nervous. He took a deep breath and tried to quiet the anxiety dancing around his head. He was fine. He was fine. This was fine. 

Ronan, seated next to him, tilted his head as he observed Adam's every move. He’d surely noticed his white knuckles by now. Adam could only pray he wouldn’t make fun. He didn’t know if he had it in him. The clouds were now far too close for comfort.

 Why had he agreed to this again? 

“You're shaking,” Ronan said, voice somehow the perfect middle of concern and tease. 

“I am not,” Adam snapped, forcing his fingers to relax on the armrest with a still rigid body. “This seat is just uncomfortable.”

Ronan raised a knowing eyebrow. “Sure.”

Adam's eyes flicked to him briefly, and then back to the window. “Stop staring at me.”

“I’d like to see you try and make me,” Ronan smirked, leaning closer and smashing their shoulders together. Adam tried to convince himself that hyperventilating was a normal reaction to a shoulder that he really, really wanted to lean on. 

“I'm fine, okay? Just leave me alone,” he lied, suddenly feeling an urge to push Ronan away. He wanted to crawl under the seat and disappear. He hated knowing that Ronan knew he was scared. He felt too warm. There was too much anxiety plaguing him and it was coming from five different directions. 

“No.”

He let out a nervous, breathy huff. His intention was to sound coolly apathetic but it came out as more of a choke. He tried to focus out the window. He tried to think of anything to take his mind off the fact that their journey had only begun minutes ago and was nowhere close to over. He supposed it would’ve been fine to tell Ronan all he really wanted was a distraction. But no, no, he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He was fine. Adam Parrish did not need or do distractions. 

Ronan had been quietly observing him; Adam half feared he could see right into his thought process. His face contorted, as if testing out a theory in his head and watching all the ways it could play out. He looked around them. He looked back at Adam and grinned evilly. 

Adam could practically feel the mischief building in the other boy. 

“Lynch. Whatever you’re thinking, d–” his don’t was cut off early by a hand poking his side.

He flinched and a sharp inhale slipped through his lips before he managed to stifle it. They locked eyes. Adam’s said don’t you dare while Ronan’s said try and stop me. 

Before he could get a real word of protest out, a hand was already attacking his sides. Five fingers were determined to hear laughter, or at least to take his mind off the fact that they were 30,000 feet away from solid ground. 

Adam hissed and fought a giggle. He tried squirming away, but the seatbelt was too tight and the space was too cramped. It was a combination concocted in hell. Delightful panic set in as he realized he had no escape and could only sit there and take it. 

“Quit! Someone is g–” his warning to Ronan about the possibility of being heard was cut short by the first laugh slipping out. 

“We're in the back and there’s no one near us, who the fuck is gonna care?” Ronan rolled his eyes nonchalantly, as if he didn’t even notice his fingers were the ones making Adam loose all composure. 

Adam's face flushed as he tried to twist out of reach. He wasn’t strong enough to conceal the smile his face was splitting into, rendering his protest particularly weak. 

“I don’t wanna make a scene–” was all he could muster out before putting his hands over his face entirely to cover the giggles that were now spilling out against his will. 

“Babies make a scene on planes all the time. Screaming and crying and shit. Pretty sure no one’s gonna give a fuck about a cute laugh coming from the back of the plane.” 

“I’m not laughing,” Adam laughed through his hands, hoping he didn’t look as red as he felt. Ronan’s shark grin only grew wider. “Yeah? You sure about that?”

 His fingers stopped suddenly. 

Adam quickly brought his hands down to guard his sides as he sternly glared at Ronan, who looked overly unconcerned with the matter all of a sudden. Adam scanned him up and down, trying to predict his next move. 

Ronan blinked innocently as if he’d never touched him. Then, both his hands were on each of Adam’s kneecaps, squeezing the life out of them. 

He absolutely lost it. He let out a bright, loud, clear laugh that was then run over by a yelp and stream of giggles. 

“Fucuhuck off–” Adam managed to protest with no real vitriol. He battled helplessly against Ronan’s fingers, trying in vain to unlock hands from knees. 

“You first,” he retorted, squeezing even harder. Adam actually snorted. Ronan’s eyes lit up in glee and disbelief, removing his hands as he recognized it might be a little much for such a tight space. 

“See? Flying anxiety cured,” he observed smugly. 

“You…” Adam trailed off in disbelief, annoyance, and silent gratitude. 

“Are the best, Ronan? Are so smart, Ronan? Have great hands, Ronan?” 

Adam rolled his eyes but the grin that appeared on both their faces was inevitable. 

“You’re welcome,” he concluded before closing his eyes and crossing his arms, getting ready to sleep. 

“You’re lucky I’ve gotta piss, otherwise you’d be so dead,” Adam threatened as he unbuckled and slid past him into the aisle.