Lee!hank - Tumblr Posts

Somewhat Self-Indulgent MC Headcanons

So uh... had some late night drabbles and wanted to post them here +] They might be ooc, but I could honestly care less. I like these ideas ALSO!!: I took all the main fandom tags off of my tickle-related posts (like this one), so I may add the tags I use for fandoms to my intro post for easier navigation. I got a little nervous, so... yeah. I don't know how much of a difference it'll make (in.. well, anything), but it makes me feel better personally.

Headcanons under the cut!

- 2B has a pom-pom pen that he uses on the others every now and again to soothe them and get a smile out of them, at the very least (especially Deimos; he loves soft stuff, and 2B is more than willing to accommodate). - Deimos has a bad spot on his bottom ribs. If you were to knead your fingers into that spot, not for more than mere seconds, you'd send him into a squealing (and possibly coughing) fit. - Sanford will more often than not use his facial hair to his advantage (i.e. nuzzling, raspberries, kisses, etc.), much to the dismay of his unfortunate lee. It's almost unbearable! - The four care about each other a lot, and have all adapted to using physical affection/interaction as a love language. Tickling isn't uncommon around the base, especially when it comes to Sanford and Deimos. - Hank likes to use silence and stealth to their advantage. It might be scary, given his violent and lethal behavior, but it adds to the thrill of playing chase. - 2B will sometimes have sessions with the others just to tease their spots and possibly find new ones. This led to the discovery of the spot on Deimos' ribs. That didn't stay between the two for long... - Hank and Deimos are suckers for raspberries. Sanford is happy to deliver. - Sanford can't stand gentle/light tickles. It's the easiest way to reduce him to a puddle of giggles. This is a bit shocking, considering the tough front he puts up. - Sleepy tickles are like heaven to 2B, both giving and receiving them. - The best time to tickle Deimos is when he's already laughing. It gets a better, louder, and possibly funnier reaction out of him. - Some days, 2B will just wake up and choose violence. He'll have random spurts throughout the day of tickling Hank. It's always fun to watch because of how stupid they both behave during these kinds of days.

oh my STARS /pos This is so good?? what the heck!?@>!

something small i wrote

ehhehjkahjehehehhehe lee! hank is invading my brain and i kinda wanna write something. im going to randomly post whatever i write down below. because i can.

i have lee!deimos coming up soon, i'm writing both. at the same time. so when this is done, i'll most likely be finishing the other one. hold on tight for that one!!!! :D

deimos is "bored outta his fuckin' mind" and hank is around. unluckily for hank, deimos found out they're ticklish, and boy this information does not go overlooked.

he/they pronouns for hank. | he/him for deimos.

"Deimos―" Hank inhaled sharply, spinning on their heels to face the other man behind him who had been aimlessly wandering around the base behind him, seemingly bored out of his mind. While they never minded the members checking up and wanting to converse with him, they did mind when they did it constantly. It felt like he was breathing down his neck. He needed to say something. "Go see Sanford."

Deimos only shook his head in response. "Can't. Sanford is out on business, 'member?" Hank faintly remembered the other man yelling out in the building that he had work to attend to. It's precisely when all of this mess started happening as well. If only they had been put together on the mission, they thought. "I'm bored outta my fuckin' mind, Hank!"

"Not my problem," was Hank's reply. The masked man sat down on a chair, pulling a small radio into his lap. It had been one of the agent's radios, one that they snatched off from their dead body. He wanted to see if they could use it for their own personal gain, getting information by pretending to be an agent, but before he could even think to do that, he felt two fingers jab into his sides. His normally dull eyes widened at the shocking feeling as he almost jumped ten feet into the air.

The noise that escaped his mouth was one he had probably never heard from himself, and that alone was enough to send the stoic member into a complete breakdown. His whole face, from what Deimos could see, was completely red as he tried to process what just happened. "No way, dude, you're ticklish?" He tried to stop himself from laughing but what else are you supposed to do when you find out the world's most wanted mercenary is weak to a few tickles?!

"Deimos, don't―" Hank tried to sound threatening, but it came out in a pathetic whine. They set the radio back down, as to not break it as they tried to bolt across the room. It didn't end very well as Hank's boot had gotten caught on one of the chair legs he was sitting on. Deimos stared on in absolute amusement. "Jeez, Hank. You're makin' this kinda easy on me, huh?"

Hank grunted slightly as he felt the other man's weight on top of him. He was definitely screwed now, at the hands of someone who had no intention of letting his ticklishness pass by. "Get off, asshole," Hank muttered as he struggled underneath him, their arms desperately attempting to push him off. The other gasped in mock offense. "Hank, you're so mean! How dare you! I think you need to learn some manners." Deimos gently slid his hands up the mercenary's shirt, his hands resting on their newly discovered sensitive flesh. Hank's body tensed, and his eyes widened behind his red goggles.

"Deimos, I swear to goHOHOohd!' His fingers had only gently dug into his bare flesh, and the most surprising noise fell out of Hank's mouth. Deimos stared at him, his mouth gaping open before hysterical laughter fell out of him. It took a moment for the younger man to recover, his breathy chuckles still lingering in the air. "Hank, did you just squeal?" The other turned away, frowning underneath the cloth on his face.

"S-Shut up, and get off!" Hank stuttered, their legs kicking weakly behind them. With a playful tint in his eyes, Deimos' fingers scribbled away at the man's torso, getting every inch of flesh he could possibly find. He was doing absolutely everything he could to send the poor person into hysterics - and judging from the loud laughter now peeling from the mercenary's lips, it seemed like it was working. Hank's laugh definitely contrasted with his stoic/edgy personality, being loud and almost a little high-pitched. "D-DehehehIHIHIHMOS! FUHUHUCK! NOT THEHERE!" Deimos had found a particularly sensitive spot right down by his hips, his sadistic grin only growing wider.

"Not where? Not here?" Deimos dug his fingers into his hips again, watching the man underneath him jerk upwards, his hands desperately trying to grab at his attacker's wrists. "Man, you're just so ticklish. I wonder how you've survived like this. You know how screwed you'd be if the AAHW found out about this? Oh, but it's okay - I'm wonderful at keeping secrets. World's best." Hank's face flushed ten times more at the teasing, shaking their head desperately as they continued to laugh.

"YOHOHOHOU'RE SUCH AN AHAHAHASS!" Hank cursed out, his laughter raising an octave as Deimos continued mercilessly attacking that one spot, vibrating his fingers right into their bone. "Oh, I'm an ass, huh? Is that what I am?" He repeated that question again, his hands moving back upward towards the taller man's ribs. His hands turned into a claw shape, and when he descended on their ribs, the reaction he got was unlike any other.

Hank shrieked. And not some slight, girly shriek. It was LOUD. Enough to burst eardrums probably, but Deimos had already been through this sort of thing with Sanford (who was ... maybe equally as ticklish as Hank was) and it only slightly made him cringe. If Deimos' smirk could get wider, it probably would. "Oh? What have I found here? Is this your worst spot? Here? Or right here?" Hank was sure to kill this man unless he ended up dying of laughter. His hands traveled up and down his ribcage, attaching himself to his writhing body. No matter which way they turned, his hands continued to follow them. How was he so good at this?!

"D-DEIHIHIMOS―" Hank was almost at their limit, tears pricking at the corner of their eyes. Their laughter had turned sort of wheezy, and their fighting had ultimately stopped. He seemed to have no more energy, considering he was just lying there taking it by now. Deimos cocked an eyebrow, his nimble fingers grazing lazily over his stomach. "Are you going to apologize?" He asked in a low voice. Hank's head shot upward. "Whahaht...? Why ahaham I apohohohlogizing?!"

Deimos frowned, digging his fingers into Hank's side again, causing him to jerk forward and let out a loud squeal. "You know, for calling me an asshole! TWICE!" If only Deimos could've seen the face they shot at him, letting out a soft sigh as they rolled their eyes. "F-Fine, I'm s-sorry... just no more tickling, alright?!"

Deimos seemed content with this answer. He quickly stepped off the mercenary, grinning at all the 'damage' he had caused. Hank took off his goggles, wiping his eyes softly. "You better not tell anyone," Hank grumbled, letting out a huff as he rubbed his sides to get rid of the phantom sensation that was still there. "Fine, fine." He got back in return, his hand waving in dismissal.

"I'm back!" Sanford yelled at the front of the base, his loud gruff voice echoing through the halls.

"Ooh, San, you'll NEVER guess what I learned!"

So much for being the world's best secret keeper, huh?

[Fin.]

(i'm re-reading this shit and idk if i like it but i'll post it anyways. i'll let other people decide if it's good or not hahah)

don't tickle a sleeping hank. ...get it? get it?! (i'll show myself out)

sorry the title explains it all. my bad.

i'm in hank brainrot. i want to write about lee!2b but... GOD i love hank. LMAOO

enjoy this small little idea? fic? idk what to call it.

uhm there are feet tickles, for anyone who's uncomfy with that. i think i've tagged my fics with these, but idk. if i haven't, my bad - but i tagged this one. *thumbs up.*

there's also like hurt/comfort? and i mean a physical hurt. not emotional. lmao

he/they for hank || they/them for doc

"Hank," 2BDamned let out an exasperated sigh as they softly opened the mercenary's bedroom door, looking at the adorable sight in front of them. The blankets were kicked off the bed, and the pillows were messy and all over the place... and right in the middle of it all laid the culprit responsible for it all, Hank J Wimbleton, who was still sleeping soundly with soft snores coming from him. His body relaxed against the mattress, with his left arm and leg dangling off the bed.

It took everything in their power not to start laughing at the sight, deeming it hilarious due to the fact that they had never seen him so vulnerable and exposed like that. They knew how much the mission took out of him but dreaded this moment with all of their heart. Hank never slept much, considering the bad insomnia that he fought daily, but when he managed to fall asleep... it was quite literally hell to wake him up. The whole base figured this out the first time it happened, and now the three share a custom of playing rock, paper, scissors to decide who gets to be the unlucky soul to wake them up.

And unfortunately, it was Doc.

"I'm comin' in, Hank," Doc whispered, mainly to themself, as they entered the other's bedroom, noticing how messy they kept their room. They were stepping over empty beer bottles and random clothes as they made their way to his bed. Hank didn't even move a muscle, he just continued to lay there peacefully as if nothing was happening. Doc inhaled sharply. This was the moment they were waiting for. They let out the single breath they were holding as they put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him with a bit of force.

"Hank? Hank, it's time to get up." Doc muttered, squinting their eyes at the sleeping figure. Hank only grumbled and turned onto his stomach as if that would protect him from getting woken up. Their fingers grasped the sleeping figure, shaking them a bit harder. There was still nothing happening. Hank was still sleeping, and Doc was growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that they were such a heavy sleeper. Their other hand reached toward the bridge of their nose, clutching it slightly. They knew they'd have to wake him up - but how?

Doc then grabbed the light covers, pulling them off. It didn't do considering his outfit very much was more than enough to warm him during the night. Doc sighed, frustrated.

"Hank, I'm... erm, damn it," Doc growled as they shook their head. They were a doctor! Well, not a legitimate one, but close enough. There had to be something they could do to get the other out of bed. Doc's gaze narrowed down the length of his body, listening to the other continue to snore without a care in the world. They were silent for a few moments before a sinister idea crept into their mind. A grin formed across their face - they had the best idea.

"Hank, I'm going to count to three," Doc announced loudly, moving lower on the bed. They climbed onto the soft mattress, sitting right next to the other man's legs. This was going to be good - something that Hank couldn't ignore or shrug off. Well, if it even worked on him. Doc's hand moved closer and closer to his ankle, a smirk underneath their mask.

"One," Doc muttered, hand wrapping around his ankle with a bit of force. They paused for a second, looking at the still-sleeping figure with a raised eyebrow. "Two," they continued, pursing their lips as his fingertips twitched with anticipation. Their hand hovered over his socked foot, keeping quiet for any signs of life. Doc chuckled softly, a playful and teasing sound coming out of their mouth.

"....Three." Doc's fingers skittered all over Hank's socked foot, in which Doc finally got a rise out of him - one that they had desperately wanted. Hank sputtered out something unintelligible as his body began to fight back against the ticklish sensations, trying to pull his ankle away from the other's nimble fingers. That only encouraged Doc to keep their grip tighter as their fingertips danced all over his soles. Hank burst out into hysterical laughter, shutting their eyes as they buried their head into their soft pillow.

"Ah, so you're awake now," Doc purred, their eyes narrowing in a teasing way that the other unfortunately couldn't see. A giant smirk was plastered all over their face - they found the situation more amusing than ever, knowing that Hank fuckin' Wimbleton, out of everyone they knew, was ticklish. And extremely, by the simple looks of it. Doc's fingers continued to scribble all over his socked foot, Hank's hand hitting the side of the bed.

"Doho- fUHUHCK! DOhohoHOHOC!" Hank squeaked out through his many frantic peels of laughter, his entire body squirming against them. Oh, this was just too good now. "Yes, Hank~? What do you need?" they asked, turning their head back as they continued to mercilessly torture their friend. Their fingers traveled up and down almost agonizingly, making Hank let out a squeal before dissolving into more laughter, his pitch rising with every torturous touch. "YOHOHOU- AHAH-" Hank was cut off multiple times by his own laughter and squeals, as he planted his face back into his pillow.

"Aw, Hank, you know I can't understand you like that..~" Doc teased, letting a small huff of amusement escape their lips. Unfortunately, they had completely forgotten how strong Hank actually was... so the minute the top of his foot met their jaw, it made them jerk back. Of course, Hank didn't mean to - they'd never intentionally hurt the other, but it's... just what happened. "Ahaha, s-shit, Doc, you alright?" Hank asked, feeling their grip on his ankle loosen.

Hank immediately shot up, their hand cupping the side of Doc's face with a concerned look. "Did I hurt you too bad? I didn't ... mean to, it was..." Doc only chuckled in response, giving him a soft look as they shook their head.

"Don't worry about it. I expected to see some resistance. It caught me off-guard a bit," they explained with a bit of a laugh. "But nothin' I can't handle. Hey, you're fully awake now." Hank pouted a bit, still upset that he accidentally kicked the other. His hand continued to cup the side of their face. "Oh, on another note..." they spoke softly, setting aside their mask to show their scarred face. Their lips pursed for a moment before continuing. "I think that might be my favorite way to wake you up now. Well, minus the kicking. I might have to do it again...~"

"...ugh," Hank grumbled, rolling his eyes as he stretched upward. "That was unnecessary."

"For you, maybe," Doc responded with a slight teasing glint in their eye. "But to me, I think it was quite cute. And fun. I'm have to lighten you up a bit sometimes." They joked. "Besides, you wouldn't get up for anything else. I even shook you a bunch of times."

Hank only gave them a side-eye, pouting a bit as their cheeks turned a soft pink color. "...shut up."

Doc raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you sound like you want more with an attitude like that."

And just like that, Doc immediately pounced on Hank, for what wouldn't be the last 'attack' of the day. Deimos and Sanford were long forgotten, thanks to Hank's attitude. It wasn't like either of them minded, though.

Spending time together is what made them special. ...even if it was to tickle the shit out of Hank!