#ticklish!stevetrevor

[a-fluffer-nutter]

So Much

A/N - Hi everyone, here is a fic for Wonder Woman!! Sorry it took so long, but I wanted it to be really good for you guys! Thank you @tickletober2017for putting on this event: the days work out so well!! I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1,292

           “Are you trying to hide?” Two large eyes spied the spy, Steve Trevor. He took a step back, stumbling from the doorway. He had not been watching her as she read, he had not been admiring her beautiful physique, the little twitch of the lips as she read something amusing, the darting of the dark eyes as they skimmed through paragraphs. “You are not a very good spy.”

           “That was very mean,” Steve rolled his eyes before stepping into the room, plopping down on the chair across to her. They had a day until having to go back out onto the frontlines, until fate would set in and decide the future. “Is everyone mean back on your island?”

           “That wasn’t mean,” She protested, glancing up from her book. “I was simply stating a fact.”

           “Well here, we try to make everyone happy, even if it means lying to them,” Steve replied, leaning back in the chair, relaxing for the first time in a while. “Making people happy is how you get them to like you, and when people like you, everyone is happy.”

           “I can’t see how I could be happy if I knew someone had lied to me,” Diana replied, placing her book down on the side table, setting atop various other books about the history of London. “My people would be incredibly upset to be lied to.”

           “Well, that’s why you have to be good at it,” Steve flashed a sly smile, gesturing to himself with his thumb. “Like me.”

           “I do suppose there are other ways you all can be made happy,” Diana rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with a flicker of amusement. “Or do you all just lie to each other like you do?”

           “Well of course there are other things, we aren’t all heartless,” Steve exclaimed, noting Diana’s raised brow. “We tell jokes or compliment one another. Um, well tell stories and drink together. And when we know a person very well, we hug.”

           “Hug?” Diana reiterated, feeling the word on her tongue. She had thought Steve had pointed this one out before, a little girl being held by her mother. “Like embrace?”

           “Exactly,” Steve nodded, glancing down at his hands for a brief second. “Family and friends will do it when they see each other or are about to leave. It’s meant to feel good.”            “We don’t do that very often back home,” Diana said, thinking of the few times her mother had hugged her, predominantly as a child. “What else do you do?”

           “Well, that’s about it, unless you’re really close. Kissing is a thing, though you’ve seen that,” Steve said, thinking as hard as he could, drawing a blank. “Oh, well there is this other thing. It’s uh…”

           “It’s what?” Diana asked, leaning forward in her chair, interest piqued.

           “Um, well,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, rising to his feet. “Here, uh, let me show you.”

           Her eyes followed him as he took a few steps forward, standing over her in an awkward silence. He leaned over her before squatting down to his knees, his eyes trying to avoid hers. He made little sounds, indecisive ticks as he fumbled with his hands. He reached out, a cautious hesitance, before laying his hands gently on her sides. He could almost see the confusion in her eyes, the small tilt of the head she was known to do. Her mouth opened, something to say but not ever uttered. It was then Steve mustered the courage to squeeze tenderly, feeling her body jolt beneath his touch.

           “What was that feeling?” Diana asked after twitching away, brow raised. “It was like being in pain, but pleasant.”

           “It’s tickling,” Steve said, beginning to wiggle his fingers around. “And, judging by this, I would say you’re ticklish.”

           “What’s that?” Diana asked as she giggled lightly, not trying to hide it whatsoever. “Why am I laughing?”

           “It’s this thing where you touch another person a certain way and they laugh,” He replied, taking in her carefree giggles, enjoying the beauty of the sound. “I don’t really understand it either, but it’s supposed to be fun.”

           “So, is everyone ticklish?” Diana asked as Steve ceased his fingers, again feeling the new word on her tongue, enjoying the sound the syllables make. Steve sat down on the floor, looking up at her, a fleeting glance to the side.

           “Um, most people are,” He said with a bite of the lip.

           “Are you?” Diana asked, beautifully innocent. She watched as he hesitated, glancing down at the floor, tongue running over his bottom lip.

           “No, I’m not,” She could hear a waver in his voice. “Us spies, we can’t be ticklish. That could cause problems, you know.”

           “But you are a very bad spy,” Diana said with a smirk, reaching for the lasso sitting along with the books. She grabbed it, wrapping it around him faster than he could protest. The fire burning in Diana’s eyes hinted at his future, how he messed up terribly. “Are you ticklish?”

           “Yes, I am,” Steve forced out, struggling to keep it in. He spat and stammered, loathing the inability to lie. “I’m incredibly ticklish just about everywhere.”

           “You can be ticklish in different spots?” Diana questioned, watching as Steve furiously nodded. “Where are you ticklish, then?”

           “My stomach, knees, under arms, neck, feet, hips, sides, ribs,” Steve could feel the blush rise to his face, increasing with each word. “My worst spot is my neck.”

           “So, I just touch your neck?” She asked, running a finger down the crook of his neck, feeling him flinch beneath her fingertip. “How do I make you laugh?”

           “Move your fingers around softly, like light scratches,” Steve thought he was going to die, admitting all of this to her. She did what he said, quickly sending him into a giggling fit. He would typically put his arms up to block the attack, but since he was pretty damn sure that damn lasso knew he enjoyed it, he couldn’t fight back.

           “Is this it?” Diana smiled, watching him squirm and squeal beneath her touch.

           “Raspberries make it worse,” The words poured from his lips. “It’s when you put your lips on my neck and just blow air out.”

           “That’s going to make you laugh?”

           “Incredibly hard,” He said, growing redder as his laughter hiked, Diana scratching her nails along the collarbone. She leaned in, tilting her head to the side, her long dark hair lightly tickling his neck as she pressed her lips into the thin skin. He could feel her chest rise, taking in air. Then, she blew the raspberry.

           “You’re so adorable,” She said as he threw his head back, loud laughter taking over him. He fell back, bringing her to the floor with him. She laid beside him, wiggling her fingers over other spots he had said, listening to octaves of his laughter change, enjoying the melodious music he was emitting. “Do you enjoy this?”            “So much!” He squealed as she tickled over his belly, legs kicking halfheartedly.

           “Do you want me to stop?”

           “No,” He giggled, his laughter dying as her fingers slowed. She untied him, watching his features relax, growing calmer.

           “Do you want me to stop?” She repeated, allowing him to say what he wanted. He looked up at her, his glittering blue eyes brighter than she had ever seen.

           “No,” He said, hand gently caressing her cheek. “You can continue if you want. I do like it.”

           “Okay,” She smiled, pressing her forehead against his. “I’ll stop when you tell me to.”

           “Thank you,” He squirmed around on the floor, getting into a better position, giving her a quick nod to proceed. He loved it as much as he loved her; so much.

[fanficsandfluff]

Forget Your Troubles

A/N: A little over a month ago, @fanficsandfluff shared these amazing headcanons for Diana and Steve that made me really want to write something for those two.  So I know it’s late, but here’s my attempt – hope this does them justice!

***

It’s been a long day. A long week. A long couple of months, even. And Steve Trevor’s spent most of that time either behind enemy lines or in front of a tribunal consisting entirely of ancient warrior women. Under any normal circumstances, he would have begged for the chance to stay in London and recover, if only for a few days.

But there’s a war on, a society to protect, and a promise to uphold. And thanks to Diana and her insistence that this mission will be important, will change everything, he can hardly bring himself to be upset about spending the night in a forest somewhere in western France.

The twilight sky is visible through the branches of trees left bare by winter, but the brightest source of light is still the fire crackling in front of him. Sameer, Charlie, and Chief are off patrolling and looking for some clean water to replenish their supplies, and Diana’s seated a few feet to his left, peeling open ration tins and frowning at the smell of meat with way too many preservatives. He’d offer to help, but his hands are covered in mud after tripping in some farmer’s abandoned vegetable field. Diana’s the only one with clean hands, thanks to her almost supernatural grace, so it’s her job to cook tonight.

He peels off his boots and socks, setting them as close to the fire as he dares, but even the disgusting flakes of… something… sloughing off his skin can’t distract him from watching Diana rummage through their supplies for a frying pan. She doesn’t look tired or disheartened at all, even with mud splashed halfway up her legs after a full day of messy travel, and – well, if anyone’s going to save the world, he can definitely believe it’s her.

She steps back towards the fire, and he can actually hear something wet squelching in her boots. He imagines she’s not used to this weather, and even more so to the layers of clothing one has to wear during winter here to avoid freezing at night. Maybe she actually wants to keep her boots on. But watching her face tighten with discomfort as she sits and folds her legs neatly in front of her, he finds himself somewhat doubting.

He clears his throat, distracting himself from his one-sided staring competition. “Your boots look like they could use a little cleaning – want me to take them off for you so we can scrape some of the mud off and get them dry?”

Diana smiles at him – it’s a soft smile, but there’s no way he can miss the determined set of her jaw that signals an impending refusal. “No, I can do it myself –“ She pauses abruptly, fingertips hovering just shy of the layer of muck caked over leather. “Oh.”

“I don’t think anyone’s going to appreciate getting cow shit in their dinner,” he agrees. “May I?”

This time she nods, brusquely offering him her leg as she balances the pan over the fire. Resting her heel on his knee, he yanks the boot off in a shower of dried mud. Then repeats the process with her thick woolen socks, recently re-dyed in a layer of uniform brown. “Really makes you miss the streets of London, huh?” he says.

She doesn’t answer.

“Diana?” She’s staring at the fire, and at first he thinks she’s just fascinated by the bully beef crackling against hot tin, but when he leans forward to try and catch her gaze she looks as if she’s trying to see something a million miles away. He knows that look. He’s probably worn it himself, at some point. Diana’s thinking of some past horror, and whatever it is he doesn’t want to leave her to deal with it alone.

He looks down to her bare foot and, with the kind of detached panic that tells him he’s going to regret this later, spiders his fingers up the sole.

Diana’s entire body jolts, her gaze snapping to him. “Steheve!”

“Sorry, accident. I didn’t know people made of clay could be ticklish?”

Diana’s grin contains not one trace of embarrassment. He’d almost be jealous, if he weren’t this delighted to be the cause of her happiness. “I’m not that ticklish.”

“Really,” he says, tracing a finger ever so lightly over the arch of her foot, watching as she flinches again. When she doesn’t say anything to stop him, he presses a little harder on the next go. “Well, I hope you’re not laughing at me, then.”

“I wouldn’t!” she says between giggles. “It’s not just being ticklish. I’m letting myself be ticklish.”

“…Neat. And why would you do that?” he asks, reaching up to squeeze her knee. Even through the thick cloth covering her legs, it seems to get a good reaction.

“Behecause ihihit’s fun!” She’s full-on laughing now, one hand pressed over her mouth, and he can’t help but smile at her. She could crush him if she wanted to, probably kick him straight into a tree, this fighter from an isle of fighters, but instead she’s chosen to leave him be, head tossed back as he coaxes peals of laughter from her.

He’s listening for the others to return – the last thing he needs is for Sameer to start ribbing him about this – but instead the moment ends when Diana gasps and pulls her leg back. “The food!”

Luckily, nothing is burnt. He’s just gotten her started on boiling coffee when she glances over at him, the warmth in her eyes more comforting than the actual fire. “Thank you, Steve Trevor. Laughter helps me to forget my troubles, and  I did not expect to find it in the world of men. ”

“Oh!… you’re welcome.”

“Are you ticklish, Steve Trevor?”

“I – am I – no. Not really.” He knows he’s blushing. Diana gives him an amused look and twitches the edge of her lasso out from beneath her coat. “You, ah, really don’t need to use that.”

She smirks. “Oh, yes. Instead, I could just-“ She makes a playful jab at his side that he barely manages to dodge by scrabbling backwards, and she’s just begun to stand up when a whistle echoes through the darkening forest. Sameer’s signal – they’re on their way back.

“We’d better get everything ready,” Steve says, frantically brushing dirt off his hands and pretending that his face isn’t still red. “We could all use some rest. Including you.”

Diana smiles beatifically. “Very well, Steve Trevor. I will leave you be for now.”

^^^

Diana intends for now to be a very short time. She doesn’t really understand why Steve is so reluctant; on Themyscira, any remedy that can put a troubled mind at ease is welcomed. Perhaps he fears that the rest of his company will think him too lighthearted. She doesn’t want to push him too far, though – perhaps men simply enjoy being sad? – so she resolves to grant him privacy when she returns the favor he has granted her.

And she doesn’t have to wait for long. The next day, it’s Steve and Diana’s turn to go on patrol. She waits patiently for them to cross the threshold where even her advanced hearing cannot make out the chatter of Charlie and Sameer, and only then does she turn to her task.

Steve yelps in surprise as she lifts him by the collar of his coat and holds him against the branch of a particularly thick tree, the tips of his feet just brushing the ground. “Whoa, whoa, Diana – what’s going on?”

“You asked me not to use my lasso, yes?” Oh, she enjoys how expressive his face is – especially when his eyes widen like they do now. “Then I will determine whether you are ticklish or not by experiment.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something and very quickly closes it again, only a grunt escaping as the fingers of her free hand move to scratch at his ribcage. His muted flinches, however, are not as easy for him to suppress. She smiles. This won’t be difficult at all.

Steve tries to speak again. “D-Diana, c’mohon –“ He ceases to speak, but giggles still leak from his pursed lips. His eyes crinkle pleasingly at the corners, his entire body tense as her fingers wander higher, questing for the hollow under his arm.

“I can tell that you’re ticklish, Steve,” she teases gently. “But if you don’t laugh, how will I know how ticklish you are? I want to make sure you’re having fun.”

“Can this make you smile?” she asks, wiggling her fingers into the tight space under his arms. He shakes his head frantically, but his enormous grin says otherwise. “Can this make you struggle?” she asks, tickling his belly mercilessly and watching in satisfaction as he tries to curl up in midair, never once making a move to stop her hands. “Can this make you forget what troubles you?”

Steve arches his back when she finds a particularly sensitive spot above his left hip, his head thudding into the rough bark behind him. “Di-Diana, Ihi– nahaha! – stohop asking questions, yohou’re mahaking it worse, I cahahan’t even think-“ He’s undoubtedly giggling now, and it’s adorable. He’s still tense, though, still holding back. She wants to try harder, to truly make him let go, to hear his unrestrained laughter ring loud and clear through this forest. But they still have a patrol to complete, and a world to save.

She slows the pace of her fingers, letting him back down to the ground as he wipes his eyes with one hand, gasping something beneath his breath. After, then. After she kills Ares and mankind is at peace, there will be time for things such as these.

Steve’s shoulders are a fraction looser as they resume patrol. Diana smiles.

She looks forward to the time they will have, when the war is over.

MICHELLE JUMPS IN: 

OHHH my lord this is actually everything????? Every frickin’ sentence and word and line of dialogue in this is amazing. I completely forgot about our headcanon discussion, but I am happy beyond words to receive this from you. Oh my lord Diana’s such a precious babe <3 and Steve would toootally not let himself go easily! Even around Diana! Such a wonderful, warm little fic. It made me feel whole and like all was right with the world XD Thank you thank you thank you! I cannot say it enough! Your submissions never cease to brighten my day!

[fanficsandfluff]

Hey, what kind of Wonder Woman fic did you have in mind? Just watched the movie last week and was ridiculously overjoyed by it, but anything I thought of writing came out super awkward :( so I would really love to hear any ideas/headcanons you have, if you don't mind sharing? -Negligible!Anon

UGH THIS MOVIE WAS SO GOOD (ending was a little weak but ya know, classic dc came through XD ) but despite that, it was wonderful. 

And so far, dear Negligible, I haven’t really had plans to write for the film. I feel the same way you do about it coming out weird and unnatural. Still, Diana and Steve are my OTP forever now lol

As for ideas/headcanons:

I just keep having this idea in my head with no context and it bothers me because if I had more to add, maybe I could come up with a real fic. Just that somehow tickling comes up (lord jesus don’t ask me how, it’s World War I). Steve is kinda just intrigued. An Amazon warrior princess knows about tickling? And Diana would laugh at him jokingly and taunt him. Yes, the Amazon women were just as much people as he was. So he’d get cocky and start poking her and tickling her. And Diana lets him do it because she knew it as a fun activity her mother would do with her to keep her a child for as long as possible. Steve fucking falls more in love with her because of that damn laugh and that stunning smile. But Diana also knows the ways of the tickle fight, so she gets him back while he’s in a daze staring at her. And bloody hell he’s ticklish. So sensitive everywhere her nimble fingers glide. Since she’s so strong, Steve’s an easy target to pin and torment. She notes that teasing him about it somehow makes him laugh harder and blush darker. And it just ends with cuddles and goodness and ugh

Diana: 

Diana laughs and smiles freely whenever she truly feels at peace and that the world is doing fine without her help

Any chance of lightheartedness she feeds off of

And her giggles are bright and her smile’s wide

She always closes her eyes when she’s laughing or at least squints them very severely

Soft tickles are her favorite to receive since there’s such a gentleness and intimate nature about them

Steve:

Did not even think about tickling until Diana brought it up out of the blue

He was surprised she even knew what it was, figuring all those Amazonian women were hard asses

Being the above average man that he was, it was never a topic that came up in his day to day life as a spy

But Diana brought out a special softness in Steve

Steve fought her on her attempts to get him, but her mischievousness and eagerness to defy an order just spurred her to follow through

Steve suppresses his laughter whenever he’s being tickled

He just grunts at first

Slowly but surely as he’s being broken, giggles and snorts slip out

But his real, deep laughter flows like honey

His eyes crinkle up and his smile spreads from cheek to cheek

And you better believe he’s a pleader when he’s tickled to his limits

Anything to get the torment to stop

He makes exceptions for Diana since she’s so eager to get him laughing, and what’s better than a woman touching you willingly and intimately?