Three Times Alex Denied Being Ticklish

.....Guys, Spencer writes coffee shops AUs, Spencer writes coffee shops AUs, SPENCER WRITES COFFEE SHOPS AUS-

worth it

fandom: supernatural

w/c: 2903

summary: Takes place right before the events of swan song. Dean takes a depowered Cas on a date. Pre-destiel.

an: first supernatural post! there is no getting over spn, everybody who's ever had business with that show makes dang sure of it. i'd also just like to say @wordstrings single handedly developed my frontal lobe. everything she's written is a masterpiece and a half.

~~~~~~~

Dean found Castiel in Bobby’s kitchen, staring discontently at the microwave with burrito in hand. Deciding not to make his presence known just yet, he leaned against the doorframe. This was probably Cas’ first time using one. He took a guilty pleasure in watching the angel try to use things he was unfamiliar with. He almost always does it wrong the first time. It amused Dean, who thought an angel’s knowledge was supposed to be infinite. He supposes the details get lost in it all, especially the ones that aren't critically necessary to pay close attention to.

There was so much about Cas that was, thankfully, unlike any other angel they’ve faced. For one, he wasn’t a sciolistic, know-it-all douche about humanity. He didn’t pretend to know everything. He wore all his confusion shamelessly, right on his face, in squints and tilted heads that didn't give a fuck about who saw how clueless he was. But he actually tried to understand it all, too. He always seemed grateful whenever Dean showed him how to work things he didn’t have to worry about before his tenure on Earth, like using a phone. The other angels would never take any kind of guidance from what they love to call 'filthy apes.’

Castiel frowned at the angry beep of the microwave after he tried to press a button while the door was still open. Dean smiled and mercifully stepped into the room, flipping it closed and nuking the food for him. Cas gave a shy thanks while Dean grabbed the beer he came inside for.

“So, you're eating now?”

“Apparently, I need to.” Cas sighed and itched at his eyebrow in irritation. As the smell hit them both, Castiel’s stomach rumbled fiercely.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Sorry to hear that.” When the microwave beeped, Cas hungrily retrieved the burrito before Dean could issue a warning. He dropped it in surprised pain, where it mashed into a steaming pile on the floor.

“Ah- it’s hot.” Dean said too late. He held himself back from looking too sympathetic at the sad way Cas stared at the mush on the floor.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Cas said somberly.

“Well, usually you have it on a plate.”

“No, I mean…” Castiel sighed, in a way that was so unlike his usual, nonbreathing self that Dean had to bite back a smile. “I don't know how you do being human.”

He sipped at his beer, shrugging. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Everything is so.. so much. I feel so much more than I ever have.” He stared forlornly at his fingers. “Every discomfort and pain. Sensations that are both limited and amplified by a three-dimensional body. Hunger..” Cas glanced at Dean. “I don’t know how to manage.”

Dean shifted, unsure of what to say. He's never been anything more than human, he couldn't really understand the loss. To be stripped away from everything you've known and turned into something.. less. Something you've only ever watched. He imagined it’d be like if Dean were to turn into a still drawing, or a cartoon. Unable to move or do anything he’s used to doing existing with a Z-axis.

But he’d always treated Cas like he was just some dude anyway. Maybe he shouldn't, and whenever he thought about what exactly Cas is, he really really shouldn't act as if he's just the homeschooled kid. But it comes so easily. Dean’s always teased those he admired, it's how he shows his love.

The surface part of his brain told him to play offended, to tell Cas off for acting like being human was something so awful. But he didn't. Instead he took Cas by the wrist of his coat, pulling his hand under the sink as he drew cold water from it.

“Look, I know it sucks. Especially now. But.. it’s not like you're useless.” Dean let go of Cas abruptly, sheepishly aware of how he’d held on. “Hell, me and Sammy would be one big tumor right now if you hadn't shown up against Pestilence when you did.”

Cas flexed his fingers under the running water. “Right. That was unpleasant too.” He said dryly.

Dean scoffed at his attitude. “C’mon. Bug bites and burns and getting sick are just one part of the experience. Being human, it’s- well it isn’t all bad. If we had the time..” He cut himself off.

It surprised Dean how bad he felt over Cas potentially never getting the chance to experience earthly delights. The small joys that make it worth carrying on, even with all the horrors that surround them. His heart ached over their fate for the millionth time.

“Dean?”

He slapped the water off. “Fuck it. Come on.”

—-

“Are you going to try to take my virginity again?”

Dean jammed his keys way off the mark of the ignition, dropping them on the floor of the Impala.

“What?! I-I wasn't- that's not. You don't-” Dean stuttered, face blazing. He retrieved the keys hastily, pointedly not looking at Cas, who was no doubt eyeing him warily.

“Okay, that wasn’t what I was doing. That was- well, I was, but I wasn’t. Whatever. No.” He shook his head hard. “I’m taking you to get some real food.” Cas’ stomach instantly growled again just at the mention of food, drawing a displeased frown from Cas and a chuckle from Dean.

The drive was quieter than usual. He looked over to the passenger side, only to see Cas slouching. It was ever-so-slight, but recognizable enough when the angel usually sits ramrod straight at all times. Dean wondered if his joints ached now where they didn't before.

"You okay?"

Cas blinked, very humanly. Seeing it happen made Dean realize Cas never really blinked when he was at full strength. Never gave him a break from those unsparing eyes.

“We should be preparing for the fight..” Cas murmured.

“We are. A big, greasy warrior’s meal is just what we need to nourish our bodies. You can’t stop the apocalypse on microwaved burritos.” Dean huffed. “Believe me, this is necessary.”

They ordered their food to go, a couple burgers with fries and two milkshakes. Castiel was bent on trying to ruin a nice thing Dean was trying to do. He caught Cas looking in the paper bag on his lap with too much longing. Dean lost count of how many variations of ‘I don’t understand. Why can’t I eat this right now?’ or ‘are we there yet?’ Cas would repeat on the drive to their destination. To stop the griping, he let Cas take some fries, so long as he didn't use the ketchup and inevitably make a mess. He taught Cas to dip the fries into his milkshake, which earned him a skeptical look, but he listened anyway. He nodded in approval and commented on the delightful sweet/salty contrast.

They finally arrived at the top of the overlook, just in time for the sky to begin transitioning into warmer hues. He shut off the car, replacing the sound of the rumbling engine and music with a serene silence. It added something to the beauty of the sweeping view of the Badlands.

“Bobby took me and Sammy here the first couple times dad left us with him. Sam wouldn't stop crying.” He left out the details of his own explosive tantrums. “Back then, being left in a stranger’s care without knowing when dad would be back was as close to the end of the world as it got. But this view made it all a little better.”

Dean took his eyes off the view, shifting them over to Cas. He flushed when he saw Cas was already staring at him instead of the sunset.

“Uh, it’s nicer o-out there.” Smooth. He snatched the bag out of Cas’ hands and exited the car to sit on the hood.

Castiel followed him out, butt-scooching awkwardly next to him as Dean dug around in the bag. Dean huffed. “Man… did you seriously eat my fries?” Cas shrugged so unapologetically he couldn't help but laugh and shove the burger into his hands, hands that immediately started ripping into it.

Dean didn't know why he expected Castiel, Angel of the Lord, who used to fly above the heavens and the Earth for business just last week, would’ve been impressed by not even the most impressive view in South Dakota. But every time Dean took his eyes off the pinkening sky, Cas was only looking at him. Dean should've felt hurt by his blatant disregard of the 'food and a view' he drove 20 miles out of his way for. But he didn’t.

Dean spoke with his mouth half full. “Y’know, I came here after I didn’t say yes to Michael.”

Cas swallowed the ravenous bite he took from his own burger, which was already almost entirely gone. Man, this human Cas was giving Famine Cas a run for his meat.

“You did?”

“I was so close to saying yes, Cas. It wasn’t easy. Fuck, none of it’s been easy. Going against what angels say is meant to be? And as much as I wanna believe I’m always right… sometimes their words would get to me. I mean, you'd think they’d know better about what's right than something like me…”

Cas finally seemed entranced by the sunset as it reached just above the rocks. “I know how you feel, Dean.”

“Yeah, I guess you would.”

“You did the right thing. Because of you, this cliff that's lasted over a millennia will remain after tomorrow.”

Dean sucked in a breath.

“Because of us..but yeah. Who gives a shit about paradise without being able to live first?” He finished his food and tossed the wrapper into the paper bag. He laid back against the hood of the car, arms resting up to cushion his head. The first few stars of the night started to make their appearance. He smiled when Cas copied his pose, as the angel never looked any semblance of relaxed before, and chuckled at the deeply content sigh that followed.

“Agreed. The food was incredible. As is this place, Dean. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well. Now that you’re mostly human, you should at least get a feel of what you’re fighting for.”

Much more sentimentally than he’d prepared for, Cas replied “I already have.”

After a moment of silence, he followed up with “Though I’m not entirely convinced it was worth the wait to eat.”

“Gluttony is a sin, Cas.” Before he could stop himself, one of the hands beneath his head reached out to give Cas’ stomach two quick squeezes.

“Hehe.”

For the briefest moment, he feared that Cas was rejecting his admittedly affectionate touch, immediately placated when he looked beside him.

Cas shifted away with a subsiding grin on his face. He had hardly ever seen the angel smile, despite Dean basically never not making jokes. The closest Cas gets to smiling is the occasional, unmistakable reverence in his eyes that don’t quite reach his lips all the way. But there for a moment he saw a big grin, with shiny teeth and all.

“Huh. I think this mostly human you is ticklish now.” He stated as casually as possible.

“Hmm. Don’t be ridiculous.” But he wasn’t fooling anybody. Dean saw the grin, the big stupid grin that he never saw his angel do before.

He hummed, keeping his eyes on the stars. Nonchalantly, he tried to reach over to Cas' stomach again, but was caught by the wrist by a strong hand.

He smiled quizzically at Cas, who was smiling back at him. At him, because of something he did. Dean made him smile.

Things escalated after that. He shifted to sit up, in an instant he dove his other hand towards Cas’ torso. That hand was caught before it could land too, but Dean succeeded in startling a low giggle out. That fueled the giddiness rioting inside him.

This was ridiculous. Dean was being ridiculous. How sweet that laugh was was ridiculous. Cas hardly smiles, but he never laughs. It lit his body up with a crazed energy, like seeing a comet pass by, one that hasn’t in thousands of years, and won't again for a thousand more. It was rare and magical. He felt like a little kid, chasing that comet down the street.

Dean pushed hard against Cas’ hands, frantically reaching and clawing and wiggling his fingers at the slim space of air around his body, desperate to make contact.

“Ah- Get off of me! Stop doing that!” Cas grinned, arms starting to shake from the combination of holding up Dean’s body weight and anticipatory laughter.

Dean continued to wrestle, joyously demanding through gritted teeth “Just let me tickle you! It’s part of the experience!"

Cas managed to get a knee in between them both, shoving Dean hard enough to roll him off the car. He planted his feet on the opposite side of where Dean brushed himself off, bowed in a stance prepared to fight. Dean couldn't keep any of his exhilaration out of his grin, leaning down as threateningly as possible.

“Why’re you so scared? I didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to try that before.”

Cas panted nervously. “I-I don’t know. It's instinctive. What you're going to do, it's- ah!” He shouted when Dean feigned toward him, defensively curling his arms up. Cas shook his head, frustrated and no doubt confused by his reaction.

“Aww, Cas, don't you trust me?” Dean skipped side to side, unable to keep still. There must be something in an angel’s laugh, something addictive that Dean couldn't stop himself from tweaking out about. There could be no other reason he was so excited to tickle a grown man.

Dean saw the trenchcoat swish up before he really saw Cas’ body move, and suddenly they were fighting each other to the ground. With a heavy forearm pinning Dean's chest, he felt fingertips tapping rapidly up and down his side and, okay, Cas has definitely never done this before, but it was effective enough to get Dean giggling.

“Heh- w-what are you- doing??” Dean snorted, totally endeared by the strange, very Cas way he was trying to tickle. Cas looked delighted.

“I was worried this trait was something only new humans shared. Babies, young children, recently fallen angels. But it looks like you haven’t grown out of it.”

“Screw you, you're doing it wrong!” He laughed, managing to reach up to dig into Cas’ ribs.

The angel’s yell echoed throughout the overlook, instantly retreating off of Dean to curl into himself, but Dean’s hands followed.

Giggles streamed out of Cas helplessly as Dean expertly provided a demonstration and oh, he wanted to cry. If the laugh before was a comet, this was a full blown meteor shower. Cas flipped onto his belly, trying to crawl away while also protecting access to sensitive spots with his trench coat. Dean grabbed his leg and yanked, enveloping it into a tight three-limb bear hug and relentlessly squeezed at his thigh with his fingertips.

Holy shit, Cas lost his goddamn mind. His hands slapped the ground while he laughed his head off, begging Dean to let go. The sound was bright and unexpected, at least an octave higher than the pitch he uses when speaking.

“Ain’t this awesome, Cas?? You like being human yet?”

Dean didn’t get a response besides a rapidly shaking head. Cas writhed on the ground with an even stronger bout of cackles, and suddenly Dean was the one overwhelmed. His insides flared with an intense kind of joy, and he found his own cheeks hurt from smiling. Cas was laughing hard, and Dean was loving it so much.

He spaced out the tickles in random pulses, a method he personalized and perfected, knowing all too well how maddening the feeling must be.

“Deeaan- AAAAHA! YOU HAVE TO LET GO!”

Dean wasn’t planning on that for awhile, but found himself rolling away with a wheeze when, despite the stronghold, there was just enough give for Cas to reel back and effectively kick him in the nuts.

They both lay on their backs, curled inward, catching their breaths and trying to recover. The sun had set completely while they were playing, but the stars twinkling dimly over them was just as welcome of a sight.

“Dean, why did you do that?” Cas panted, but Dean could still hear the smile.

To hear you laugh. “To teach you a lesson! Hahh, ow..”

“In what?!” Cas sounded exasperated.

“In letting loose. You should have some fun for once- at least once in your life.”

“So tickling is fun for you?” Cas asked, and Dean’s sure he didn't mean to make it sound judgy, but with the exasperation still in his voice Dean went bright red.

Dean gaped. “Huh? I mean- well, uh, tormenting you is. Yeah, really great fun. What about- did you- was it fun?”

Cas took a beat to think about his response. “It was.. thrilling. I'm glad to have experienced it.”

“Well, you're welcome. I’ll do that anytime. All the time. God, you were great.”

Cas hummed in a low voice. “I did enjoy it. I enjoy trying new things. Dean, is it more fun in the getting or the giving?”

Dean blushed, about to make a quip at the innuendo, until Cas ambushed him yet again with unrenderable speed. They wrestled under the stars, laughter echoing in bounces throughout the cliff.

the doctor emotionally monologuing at the daleks and then it cutting to shots like this is one of my favorite parts of dw

hi welcome

this blog is very messy and not very active. will organize eventually.

i am quite new to tumblr and i'm still trying to learn how it works.

a very beginner fic writer

always looking for new friends, don't be shy!

i like criminal minds, doctor who, good omens, supernatural, stardew valley and a lot lot lot lot more but those are the mains.

i have recently discovered i have a proclivity towards tickling. if you find it strange so do i. but i will be using this space to explore it. thank you and have an amazing day 💗

Now gracefully strung by your hand

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Derek/Spencer

Anonymous said: Prompt (fits in your existing ‘verse if you want): Spencer Reid on a low-effort case getting distracted by the others' hands while they work bc he’s thinking lee thoughts. Mayhaps Morgan or one of the others notices and does something about it 🥰

A/N: References this fic!

Words: 1.2k

Derek noticed more now. It was thrilling, in a way, to look back on past interactions and pinpoint exactly when Spencer could think of nothing but tickling, even for just a fleeting moment. And Derek knew he probably wasn’t misreading the moments, especially now that he knew exactly how Spencer was like when the thought suddenly gripped him. The lee mood, as he’d learned it was called (and which his usage of always made Spencer embarrassed in the best way). He probably didn’t associate handcuffs with it, being in the FBI and all, but Derek could remember one particular instance where he’d been joking around with him, way back when, and had asked to cuff him to see how well Spencer would survive if the need ever arose.

“I’ll be gentle,” he’d told him, and Spencer had blushed in a way Derek hadn’t yet understood.

“You thought I was gonna tickle you, weren’t you?” he asked him one day, having remembered it.

“No.” Spencer was bright red then too, but he seemed honest as he met his gaze. “I thought of it, but it- it wasn’t just that.”

“Oh?” Derek grinned. “Was it me holding you down over the table that distracted you?”

Spencer shifted in his seat, eyes now on the wall behind him. “You’re terrible, Derek Morgan.”

“Mm, you love it.”

The most innocent and captivating display of Spencer being caught up in this type of mood Derek noticed accidentally. Spencer seemed to be zoning out, staring at something for so long that Derek was certain he wasn’t paying attention to what he was watching, until he realized it was hands. And then he kept noticing it. Spencer’s gaze innocently on Hotch’s flexing hand pointing to a map. Spencer’s gaze following Emily’s fingers leafing through a case file.

He found him in the conference room one day, where Garcia was showing him something on the computer. Clicking, pointing, tapping, all the while Spencer was watching the blur of her wiggling fingers. Derek could imagine what he was thinking, caught up in it without meaning to, all wide eyed, all innocence.

“Were you watching her hands?” he asked with a laugh and Spencer jumped, face pinkening so quickly in that delicious way Derek adored.

“She has nice nails,” he said, and maybe Derek would leave it at that had he not understood what exactly that meant.

“Mm, they’re long. I bet it would tickle like crazy if she ran them over your belly.”

“Derek, oh my god, not here.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

Derek let out a laugh. “I do know why. I just like seeing you get flustered.”

Spencer huffed, but there was no coming back from that blush.

*

“Do you ever watch my hands?”

Spencer didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. “Sometimes. A lot of times.” He flushed and averted his eyes. “Most times.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t help it.”

“Well, you do know exactly what these hands can do.”

“Derek.” He said it softly, more out of habit than a plea for him to stop. They were alone. Spencer could indulge.

Derek too.

“Do you picture them running up your spine?” Derek demonstrated by stroking the air, index finger slightly extended, moving slowly over something invisible. “Or maybe-” He flipped his hand over and wiggled his fingers. “-gently stroking your chin? Tell me.” Spencer was bright red now, but he wasn’t looking away. “Do you ever tickle yourself and pretend it’s me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. It pleased him. “Even when you’re around.”

Derek faltered. “But you could just ask me.”

“I know, I just-” Spencer shrugged, pulling at his sleeves. “Sometimes I feel silly asking. And sometimes I don’t really want the entirety of it anyway. Sometimes just the idea is enough.”

“I see.” Derek had to admit the image of Spencer lying in bed with Derek watching tv and slowly tracing his fingers over his own sensitive skin was kind of hot, to put it boldly. “If you ever want me to be quick and gentle, I can. Or if you want me to air tickle you.”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just-” Spencer let out a laugh, something soft and slightly panicked. “I’m still not used to talking about it so casually.”

“I can make an event out of it, don’t worry. July 16th. Caught Spencer looking at Garcia’s hands.”

“Shut up.”

“July 18th. Got him to admit he tickles himself.” Derek laughed as Spencer shoved him, fingers automatically going for his ribs. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to steal your job.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You love it when I’m annoying.”

Spencer huffed, but didn’t deny it. Derek reached out experimentally and stuck a finger into Spencer’s neck, earning a giggle, shoulder rising to stop him. “H-hey.”

“You really think I was gonna leave you alone? I’m in a ler mood.”

“Oh my god, please shut up-”

“Shh, let me tickle you. Please.”

Spencer was still giggling from the fingers on his neck. “F-fine.”

“Thank you so very kindly for your sacrifice.” He pulled his hand free, wiggling the fingers in front of Spencer’s face. “Watch them.”

“Derek.”

“Just for a moment, and imagine what they will do, okay? Because they love the attention.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. Derek knew he would probably kill him one day. He was fine with it.

*

Watching Spencer watch hands calmed Derek down, too. He noticed it on the jet one day, feeling anxious and exhausted after a draining case, and so he’d turned toward Spencer like he usually did and found that Spencer was already watching him. Or watching his hands, gaze flickering between them and Derek’s face and while he did a good job of not flushing Derek caught the telltale sign of him being embarrassed in the way his body shifted. He wondered if Spencer longed for him to wash the week’s hardships away with his fingertips on his ribs, or if he was simply so used to watching certain parts of people that it had become a habit.

Derek relaxed under the gaze either way, wiggling his fingers experimentally and being rewarded with a kick to his leg as Spencer looked away without a word. Hotch sent him a questioning look as Derek laughed, seemingly out of nowhere.

Most times he caught Spencer watching other hands, though. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel jealous about it, but he didn’t. He found it cute. And entertaining. Thanks to the case which had brought them together in the first place everyone knew that tickling was a topic for Spencer. A sensitive topic, maybe because he’d gotten captured by the tickle UnSub, or maybe because he’d known more about the topic than they’d expected him to. Derek hadn’t talked to anyone else about it, because frankly he respected Spencer too much, so he wasn’t sure if anyone had pieced it together. But no one really tickled him, other than Derek. Maybe they found they couldn’t after the case. Maybe they felt it was Derek’s job.

But Spencer kept watching, maybe not on purpose, maybe dreaming more than paying attention. But each time Derek caught him earned him a blush. And how could Derek not love that?

reading tk fics: 🙂🙂😊

reading fics that happen to have tickling: 🤯😱🦋

When I tried to do animation, but got tired while drawing hands... Maybe someday I'll finish it, but for now I'll show you what I've done

I'm just proud of this because there are no references x'D

A soft Crowley with a Duck

omg @tickletastic fantastic list of comfort movies !! 💗💗

1. Love and Monsters

2. Blues Brothers

3. Princess and the Frog

4. austin powers: international man of mystery

5. austin powers: the spy who shagged me

6. austin powers: goldmember

7. between the first HTTYD and Wall-e

the list is somewhat out of order bc honestly i can't choose one over the other. also i'm so sorry but everyone i meant to tag has been tagged already </3

I was tagged by the lovely @blue-eyed-giant to list 7 comfort movies and tag 7 people

1) Seven Brides For Seven Brothers

2) Grease

3) Jaws (specifically my film when I’m on my period)

4) Beetlejuice

5) Little Shop Of Horrors (1986)

6) Dirty Dancing

7) The Prom

I’m going to tag @nocturnal-cryptid @spaghettiwithnachos13 @starship21zedna9 @spineless-lobster @cinder-watches-musicals @ineffablelunatic @is-it-mungojerry-or-rumpelteazer no pressure!!!

am i dreaming rn 🙀

I just need a little TenRose for inner peace of mind