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popponn · 4 months

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xavier rarely wakes up before you. most of the time, you will find his eyes still closed with his arms clinging to you or around you one way or another. but, on the days when his blue eyes are the ones that greet you first thing in the morning, you will be greeted with a soft whispered ‘good morning’ spoken in his morning voice. these kinds of mornings will start slowly with a shared smile and quiet conversation about mundane, small things. it could be the cat he saw yesterday or that particularly funny part from his dream. then, it will end with his nose brushing against yours gently. sometimes it will lead to a kiss, sometimes he will simply stay there with your forehead against each other’s. sometimes, it will lead to long hours of cuddling and going back to sleep. it is after all that, he will finally start his day along with yours. though, of course, as an end note, even if he doesn’t wake up first, please do always let him begin his days with you. he will still be drowsy—like always—but in a very embarrassingly obvious manner that his expression can’t hide, he will be happy.

zayne seems to develop a habit of taking care of your clothing at some point. it is subtle enough, but it is undeniably there. he often crouches down to tie your shoes for you—without you asking, despite your protests. if you say he doesn’t have to, he will simply say that it is more effective or faster that way, or that he simply doesn’t see a reason not to. if you feel bad, you could return him by doing a favor anyway, he reasons. afterward, it will continue into him adjusting the scarf around your neck, tidying a crease on your collar, or zipping up your jacket right before the two of you go out. he too doesn’t shy from putting your lipstick or lip balm on for you. at some point, during a break day, you might find him sitting on the sofa, reading and watching tutorials about skincare or makeup. if you approach him, expect him to ask you to watch it along with him, though in through mister doctor fashion it might lead to journal and research about cosmetics that he will read to you.

rafayel loves your attention. and it shows—in a very annoying way that unfortunately has found its way to be adorable to your heart. he unabashedly wears a smug smile and keeps on mentioning how you couldn’t stay away from him whenever he spoons you. if you are the one spooning him, turns out he is not above acting like a spoiled brat who demands affection until he is sated. in a way, it is similar to having a puppy that is a fish and a lover at the same time. but beyond all his louder actions, there will always be a part of him that is softer in the way of a cozy rain and a warm blanket. it’s the part of him who will always listen to whatever you say and the part of him that will, will always have you as his ‘happy ending’ no matter what. the part of him that shows itself in the form of a smile full of yearning even when he cups your face with both of his hands. he has his secrets and his affection for you is not one of them. yet, despite everything, it still feels like he couldn’t quite manage to get all of it out for you. so, at least, when it is time for him to give you a glimpse into how much he holds you dear, do give him your undivided attention.

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tickly-tufts · 4 months

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Entertainment (N$FW)

@tickles-tea ordered a MEAN serving of spice… so this one is for the hardcore 18+ knismos

—————

CONTAINS: bondage, nudity, non-consensual tickling, forced orgasm

—————

The Tickler.

He’d been knocked out and kidnapped by the Tickler.

Miguel had always known his luck was bad, but the multiverse had to be mocking him at that point. It’d looked like such an easy mission, too, which was why he’d opted to go alone… except this variant was no common thief. If only he'd realized before it was too late.

He didn’t know where the villain had taken him, but it must’ve been some kind of personal base. Heavy metal clamps had been locked around his limbs, raising his arms and spreading his legs into a kneel-like position. He was fully elevated off the ground, held slightly below his usual eye-level, and while his hands and feet were technically free, he couldn’t reach anything with his talons.

And as if all of that weren’t bad enough... he’d been stripped right down to his boxers. Lyla would never let him live this down… although, she'd have to reconnect with him first. Miguel felt a stab of unease at the thought.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, the Tickler making their official entrance. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long! I was just gathering a few of my tools.” Miguel glanced warily at the bag in their hands, which they proceeded to set on a nearby table. Then they faced him, beaming brightly. It was as unsettling as it was irritating.

“Let me go,” Miguel snarled, flashing his fangs as a threat. Rather than being intimidated, though, his captor simply looked intrigued.

“And why would I do that?” they countered simply. “It was so much trouble getting you down here. But now I have you all to myself, and I intend to make the most of it~”

The tone in which those last words were delivered was almost enough to make Miguel shudder. Without his watch, his suit, or even his clothes, he knew he was in a dangerous position. Variants of the Tickler were generally just a nuisance, but this one had defied every convention thus far.

“What do you even want from me? Information? Ransom?”

“Entertainment.”

Of all the answers they possibly could’ve given… that one promised to be the worst.

—

The Tickler’s very first tools of choice were a pair of mini feather dusters. They fluttered them around Miguel’s neck first, pouting when Miguel refused to give in.

“Aw, don’t pretend it doesn’t tickle! I can see your mouth twitching. Being stubborn won’t help.” They scoffed when Miguel pressed his lips into a line. “Well, can’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”

Miguel had hoped to hold out longer, but then the dusters were tickling right under his arms. The feathers were silky against his bare hollows. He promptly burst into a fit of giggles.

“That’s more like it!” the Tickler preened, speeding up when they noticed Miguel’s arms were shaking. “Those muscles aren’t doing much for you, huh? Sure made you look tempting, though,” they winked.

The feathers really shouldn’t have been that bad, and yet the light tickling soon proved to be maddening. Every fiber of Miguel’s being urged him to twist away, to just lower his arms… but the clamps held firm.

“Knohock it ohohoff!” he tried to growl, though the effect was ruined by his giggling.

“Hm? Did you wanna switch things up already?” The Tickler dropped both dusters… then dove in with their fingers.

“AGH!” Miguel choked, then burst into laughter, unable to resist the Tickler’s expert touch. Manicured nails scratched and skittered with glee, unhindered by the hero’s biceps straining above them. “Dohon’t- noHOHO!” The villain’s fingers vibrated against the center of each underarm. Just when Miguel thought to try and bite them, the Tickler’s hands migrated downwards.

“Bet your ribs are ticklish, too!” This was quickly confirmed with a few clawing motions. “But honestly… I’m more interested in these abs.” Miguel flinched when the Tickler’s fingertips trailed lower. He couldn’t back up, so he tried sucking in when the villain began tracing along said abs. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t help, and he flushed when he noticed the Tickler’s amusement.

The tracing didn’t last very long, as the Tickler inevitably escalated. Two hands were soon dancing across Miguel’s midriff, spurred on by the peals of laughter that followed. Nails sunk into his lower belly when the softness there proved especially exploitable. The accompanying taunts about his ticklish tummy only exacerbated his embarrassment.

Targeting his navel next, the Tickler teased a finger around the rim. “Oh, I’ve got just the thing for this!” they said as they reached into their pocket. Miguel blanched when they revealed a lone feather, smaller yet fluffier than those on the dusters. “Any last words?” the Tickler asked, the puff far more threatening than it should’ve been.

Miguel had been doing his best to ignore it, but anxiety began to creep up on him. His life didn't seem to be at any risk, but… how long would he have to endure this? Did anyone know that he’d been kidnapped? How would they locate him once they’d realized?

For better or worse, these thoughts ground to a halt as soon as the feather slipped into his navel.

“Shit!” Miguel cursed before falling apart, the feather tickling more than he’d dared to imagine. He felt every bit of it against his skin, absurdly soft and endlessly swirling.

“Sometimes you just can’t beat the classics!” the Tickler spoke as if making conversation. “There’s just nothing as simple yet effective as a feather. Don’t you agree, Spiderman?”

The tickling continued for a full minute, during which Miguel struggled to catch his breath. When the villain finally did step back, they didn’t take their implement with them.

“Gehet it ohohout!” Miguel squirmed, still overly aware of the feather’s presence. The Tickler simply gave it another twirl. “¡AY- BASTARDO!”

“Seems perfect where it is~”

With that, the Tickler happily moved on, forcing Miguel to cope with yet another indignity. Even just panting made the feather’s fronds shift, tickling enough that Miguel struggled to stop smiling.

“You’ve just got the cutest little waist,” the Tickler teased next, pinching Miguel’s sides. “And nice hips, too,” they continued, dropping down to give those a squeeze. “Ohh, you like that?” they observed when Miguel jolted at the action. He cackled when they dug into the dips, thumbs rubbing firm and relentless circles.

“Heh, I knew you’d be super ticklish. Got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. The second I saw you, I could tell you’d be fun… but somehow, you’re even more ticklish than I thought!” Against his best efforts, Miguel blushed, much to the Tickler’s obvious delight. Even worse, their gaze soon wandered down to Miguel’s parted thighs.

They reached out both hands to knead the thick muscles, grinning when they were rewarded with a screech. “Did I hit a sweet spot?” the Tickler mused. “Let’s see how loud you can really get~”

“¡MIERDA! NOHOHO!” Miguel writhed as the Tickler honed in on his inner thighs. They scribbled their way down to his knees, then lightly pinched a path back upwards. As they neared the top, they switched scratching, which proved ruthlessly effective. Then they slipped past the edges of his boxers, burrowing right into the creases of his thighs. “SHOCK! DOHOHON’T-!” was all Miguel managed, before he lost the ability to form words. The laughter that followed was nothing short of frenzied, and soon enough, there were tears welling up in his eyes.

The Tickler lingered there for what seemed an eternity, right at the edges of Miguel’s boxers. It was only when something new caught their eye that they stopped… then smirked openly. “Well, looks like someone’s getting excited. Are you actually enjoying this?”

Miguel’s face burned when he realized what they meant. Despite everything… he was getting hard.

The physical response was involuntary, of course. Almost unavoidable, which the Tickler knew. The captive hero’s humiliation was a treat, though, and they fully intended to savor it. Following the outline of Miguel’s cock, the Tickler started teasing him through his boxers.

“No!” Miguel gasped, trying to jerk backwards, but there was simply no getting away.

It tickled more than it had any right to. His boxers might’ve even made it worse. The villain’s fingers slid over the material with ease, skimming ticklishly along his length.

“Stohohop! STOHOP!” he ordered frantically, unable to resist the stimulation. It would’ve been nice if it weren’t a blatant violation… and it was only going to get worse.

“Alright, that should be enough for now.” The Tickler withdrew sooner than expected. But then, before Miguel could relax, they pulled out a small blade and slashed right through the fabric. Just like that, Miguel was exposed, his only scrap of clothing falling off in tatters. “Time for some attention in the back!” Miguel’s heart plummeted in his chest.

Skipping out of Miguel’s line of sight, the Tickler soon whistled appreciatively behind him. “And I thought the view from the front was great. Ever think of modeling instead of being a hero?” What came next should’ve been predictable, yet it still managed to catch Miguel off guard. Fingers pinched playfully at his ass… and because everything was against him, even that tickled.

“Was that a squeak?” His captor sounded gleeful. “I was so hoping you’d be ticklish back here!” Then hands were massaging both his cheeks, and Miguel could only cackle through his mortification.

It was ridiculous, humiliating, and only got worse when one of the feather dusters reappeared. Miguel couldn’t see it, but he could certainly feel it, laughter pitching higher at the soft sensation. The Tickler was thorough in their ministrations, dusting all over Miguel’s rear. They attacked from every angle, until inevitably-

“AH! Not there!”

Miguel froze, pure dread flooding in as soon as he realized his mistake. Deathly silence followed… tension building… with every second that ticked by. He was doomed. They both knew it. The suspense was entirely unnecessary. Even so, the Tickler made him wait…

Until the feather duster was right between his cheeks.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” The villain taunted as Miguel exploded into helpless hysterics. They used one hand to spread him further while the other continued wiggling the duster. The motion was overwhelmingly ticklish, enough for the tears in Miguel’s eyes to spill over. They rolled down his face as he wrenched at his bonds, unable to find even a second of relief.

Miguel’s composure collapsed further when the feathering migrated towards his front. Sliding down his cleft and across his taint, it was clear where the Tickler was headed next. They took a quick detour at his thighs, just to goad him that much more. It was only when Miguel was ready to snap that the duster finally settled over his cock.

“¡PUTA MADRE!” he swore violently, before mirth fully overtook him. Feathers enveloped his testicles, along with a good portion of his shaft. It was then that the second duster returned, fluttering directly over his head. With that, his whole length was nestled in softness, ticklish plumes caressing every inch.

“Such a feather-ticklish cock~” the villain cooed over Miguel’s anguish. “I could just stay right here forever~” They wiggled the dusters even faster.

“SH- NOHO-!” Miguel struggled to speak, to say anything that might earn him a reprieve. “P-Plehehease!” he finally cracked, too flustered to maintain the illusion of pride.

“What was that?” The Tickler lit up. “Could you say that again for me, Spiderman?”

Begging felt like giving up, but what choice did really he have?

"Please!" he repeated in English first, and when that wasn't enough, he fell into Spanish. "¡Por favor, no puedo más!" Each appeal was an uphill battle through laughter. The Tickler basked in his desperation, drawing it out until they were satisfied. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose we are due for a little break."

Little proved to be an understatement. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few moments. Once Miguel was no longer on the verge of passing out, the Tickler resumed, focus still between his legs. Embarrassingly, Miguel was erect, the array of feathers having done their job.

“How rude of me, leaving you like this… It’s only right that I finish what I started.”

Miguel didn’t like the sound of that at all.

The Tickler turned toward the bag they’d brought, rummaging around inside for a bit. “Ah, here we are!” They spun back around… donning a pair of sleek, furry gloves.

“Don’t-“ Miguel’s voice shook. “Please… don’t.”

With a terrifyingly innocent smile, the Tickler reached down and started rubbing.

Miguel shrieked. That was the only word for it. Every touch of the gloves tickled like hell. Every stroke and fondle was accompanied by fur, equal parts titillating and torturous.

“This material’s actually an invention of mine,” the Tickler admitted casually. “I designed it to be soft, exactly as instructed, but all our testers said it was unbearable on skin.” The Tickler circled the tip of Miguel’s cock with a single fluffy finger. “They were right, of course, but I’d put in so much work. I couldn’t just let it go to waste.”

Eventually, just as promised, Miguel came in spite of himself. The Tickler didn’t halt at all in their motions, rubbing Miguel through his moaning, sobbing laughter.

“Fun fact,” they announced once Miguel was spent. “Sensitivity tends to spike right after an orgasm.”

Miguel couldn’t keep himself from trembling, cock still resting in the villain’s gloved palm.

“Please… there has to be something else you want…” Something, anything beyond making him suffer.

“Aww, poor thing,” the villain commiserated, before their smirk returned in full force. “Unfortunately for you, this is all I want, and we still have so many toys to try. Now, cry pretty for me, alright?”

Miguel let out a broken whimper.

—

Spiderman did not kill. No matter the villain, no matter their actions, killing was simply not on the table. Peter B. Parker knew that, of course. It’d been his policy for over 20 years.

Even so, he had to remind himself before hurling the Tickler through the nearest wall.

“Miguel!” Peter shouted once the villain was down, concern overshadowing everything else. When he’d arrived, the Tickler had been raking at Miguel’s thighs with clawed finger caps. By all accounts, Miguel should’ve screamed. The treatment was certainly brutal enough. Instead, his agony had been near silent, made evident only by a fresh stream of tears.

“Por favohohor… noho mahahás… Plehehease…” Miguel babbled, shivering in his restraints. At first, Peter assumed he was feeling aftershocks, only to realize his torment wasn’t actually over.

Vibrating brushes had been strapped to his soles, centered just enough to avoid his toe talons. Peter pulled them off, crushing both in his hands, then returned to Miguel’s front, gaze dropping low. He winced as he eyed Miguel’s weeping cock, two buzzing egg vibrators taped to the shaft. He took a steadying breath before crouching down, removing every bit of it with care.

After that, Miguel calmed, visibly sagging with relief. Peter reached out to cradle his face, only for Miguel to flinch away. “Migs, it’s just me…” Peter’s voice wobbled, his heart tightening in his chest. Fortunately, the nickname seemed to spark some awareness, and Miguel began to recover himself.

“P… Peter?” he croaked weakly, watery eyes coming back into focus.

“Yes! I’ve got you!” Peter pressed in close, wiping Miguel’s tears away with his knuckles. “I’ll have you out of there and back home soon.”

True to his word, Peter freed Miguel quickly, then wrapped his own robe around Miguel’s body. As soon as Jess acknowledged his ping, he left the villain for her, out cold and webbed-up. Tapping his watch, he opened a portal directly to 616B. When Miguel’s legs refused to cooperate, Peter scooped him up and carried him through.

—

Waking back up was a gradual process, made more difficult by pure fatigue. Nonetheless, Miguel persisted, drawn forth by the gentle hand in his hair. When he eventually opened his eyes, a soft sky blue was there to greet him.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” MJ murmured, her smile an absolutely breathtaking sight. Her hand moved carefully from his hair to his cheek, and Miguel instantly leaned into the contact.

“How long was I…” Unconscious? Captive? Miguel wasn’t sure which he wanted to ask. Without missing a beat, MJ answered both questions, frowning as she recalled the worst of it.

“You were missing for all of yesterday… then Peter got you home around 4am.” MJ had stayed up waiting for them, of course. “You’ve been asleep for around 10 hours.”

At that, Miguel attempted to sit up, only to discover he was being held down. Peering over his shoulder revealed a slumbering Peter, one arm and one leg slung over Miguel’s form.

“He was really worried,” MJ explained. “Didn’t tell me much, but…”

“You saw how I was.”

MJ’s brow furrowed, her own worry clear, but Miguel knew she wouldn’t ask until he was ready.

"Wanna see Mayday?" she asked instead, offering him the balm of domesticity. It made him feel warm... and more importantly... safe.

"I'd love to," he accepted gratefully.

#happy valentines day i bring an offering of sin #definitely mind the content warnings on this one #miguel o'hara #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #tickling #a tickly fic #spideysjane

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