Hey, I guess you can call me Moon 🤷🏾♀️ she/her, mid 20s (so, minors, please DNI!) sfw tk blog :)
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“So, what’s this I hear about you being deathly ticklish?”
Years of training was the only thing that kept Bruce from freezing in his tracks at the voice suddenly inches from his ear. He continued tightening the small screw on his grappling hook, ignoring the sudden pounding of his heart.
"Deathly is a stretch." Maybe if he didn't turn around Diana would get bored and walk away.
"But the 'ticklish' part is not?" Naturally, Diana reached over and goosed Bruce's side when she said 'ticklish'.
Despite the fact that he was expecting the touch, Bruce still flinched away from the nimble fingers gently pinching in just the right spot to make him squirm. He sighed, knowing she wouldn't drop this any time soon. "Who have you been talking to?" He asked, setting his tools down and turning so he was face-to-face with his assailant.
Bruce never failed to surprise Diana. She was expecting him to lie, or threaten to kill Clark. She did not think he would accept defeat so easily. "Is this common knowledge?" Diana asked, wearing a sly smile. "Why am I just now finding out about it?"
"It's on a need-to-know basis." Bruce was too experienced to dart his eyes around in his search for escape. He already knew Diana would be able to read his next move before he even decided on one. Now his only goal was to mitigate the damage she was sure to inflict upon his ego.
"And Clark needs to know, but I do not?" Uh oh. That was a dangerous tone. Bruce did not like being on the receiving end of that one bit.
"Clark doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself."
"Unfortunately for you, we share that trait."
Bruce was too dignified to try to run away, but that didn't mean he had to just lay down and take it. When Diana reached out a hand, presumably to latch onto his sides, Bruce seized her by the wrist. He was in the process of throwing her over his shoulder when Diana's free hand found it's way to his topmost ribs.
Bruce bit his tongue in his haste to stifle his laughter, but he could not hide the full body flinch from Diana's keen gaze.
"So it's true!" She laughed with delight. She easily pulled her hand free and crowded Bruce against his workbench, hands roaming over his torso in search of a better spot that might draw his laughter out.
"Why--are you both--so--fascinated by this?" Bruce was trying to shield as much of his body from Diana's wandering fingers as he could. Unfortunately for him, Diana was faster. When he drew his arms in to protect his ribs, she tickled at his stomach. When he pushed her hand away to shield his stomach, she wiggled quick fingers under his chin. When he shrieked and slammed his chin down towards his chest...well, her eyes lit up and she chased after that sound.
"This is why." Diana laughed as she gently tickled at the thin skin of Bruce's neck. His shoulders had come up to try and protect his neck, and he had both hands latched around Diana's wrists. Diana didn't seem to mind, ignoring his attempts to stop her and testing to see if his ears were as bad as his neck.
They were worse.
"Diana!" Bruce gasped, jerking away from the nails gently scratching the shell of both ears. The laughter she had been so desperate to hear finally came out, and Bruce was helpless to stop the onslaught of giggles pouring out of him.
"Clark did not mention this." Batman was not only giggling, but blushing. His cheeks had taken on a soft pink glow, and the hapless smile stretched across his face seemed to take 10 years off him.
"Dihihihihi come o-hahaha-on!"
Diana decided to take pity on him, and move on. She quickly tickled down his neck, across his collar bones, down his ribs, ending at his stomach.
"Jehehehe-Jesus Chri-hihihihihi-st!" Bruce cackled, practically folding in two at the onslaught of sensations.
"Clark only spoke of your stomach being sensitive." Diana was deftly avoiding Bruce's hands once again. "We will have to compare notes later."
Bruce shook his head, not confident that he could form any words between his near-constant laughter. He couldn't slip past Diana, though not for lack of trying, and he couldn't catch her hands long enough to gather his sanity. There was only one other tactic he could think of. Bruce darted his own hands out, latched onto Diana's sides, and squeezed as fast as he could.
"Bruce!" Diana gasped, hands finally leaving his body as she drew her arms inwards to protect her sides.
"Does Clark know about this?" Bruce was panting as he caught his breath, but he did not slow down his attack. When Diana brought her arms in to block her sides, Bruce went for her stomach. When she laughed and gently pushed him away, his hands darted up to her neck. When that didn't get a response beyond her pushing his hands away, Bruce seized his opportunity and buried his hands into her armpits, fingers wiggling furiously.
"Ohohohoh my!" Diana laughed, jerking away from Bruce to try and protect herself. Bruce followed after her, using her distraction and his bulk to his advantage and wrapping Diana in a bear-hug from behind.
"Not so fast, Princess." Bruce had his left arm wrapped around Diana's waist, and was squeezing her hip. His right arm was stretched across her torso, and his hand was buried in her left armpit.
"You--are--terrible!" Diana laughed, hands loosely wrapped around Bruce's wrists as she let her laughter flow freely. It was not lost on him that she was allowing him to get his so-called revenge.
"You started it!" Bruce pointed out, walking his left hand up Diana's side, gently digging into her ribs at random.
"Actually," A voice said in Bruce's ear, causing him to let go of Diana and whirl around, a batarang appearing in his hand from seemingly thin air. "I did." Clark smirked, unphased as the sharp blade was held to his throat.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Bruce grouched, the batarang disappearing just as fast as it had appeared.
"Clark, you must see this." Was all the warning Bruce got before those damn nails were back to dancing across the shells of his ears.
"Son of a bihihihihihihitch!" The laughter was once again pouring freely from Bruce. He knocked Diana's hands away and clamped his hands over his ears to keep them safe. "I thought that was going to be our little secret?" He had to turn to say this to Diana, and that's when he realized just how close the two of them were standing. One look at their faces, and he knew it was not an accident that they were crowding him between them. "....now wait a minute."
"I call his stomach." Diana's snaked around him as she drew his back against her chest.
"Clark, if we work together we can take her down." Clark looked like he might be considering it, but Bruce couldn't be sure because Diana's fingers were suddenly wriggling into his armpits as soon as he finished speaking.
"Tempting, but I've never seen you laugh before." Diana eased up, not wanting to overwhelm Bruce. Tickling him would not be any fun if it was overstimulating. "I call his neck." If Diana's smile had been scary, Clark's was downright terrifying.
"Di, we can definitely take him down together." Bruce's eyes stayed fixed on Clark's hands, and when he reached out for him Bruce did his best to flatten himself against Diana to get as far away as he could.
"Oh, so you're ticklish and a traitor." Clark didn't seem at all bothered by the hands gripping his wrists. "That calls for drastic measures."
"I hate both of you." Was the last coherent thing Bruce said for quite a while. It turns out deathly ticklish was a fitting description after all.
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The Scientific Method
“Don’t tell me you’re ticklish?!” “Well now, that seems like wishful thinking.” "No way, are you crying/begging?"
"Clark!" Bruce barked, his body jerking away without his consent and sending his hips crashing into the workbench in front of him. Everything in him was screaming at him to try to sink through the floor, even as he turned to face Clark with a glare that has sent plenty of men running. He kept his blush at bay through sheer stubbornness. He would not help Clark by embarrassing himself any further.
"Bruce." Clark breathed, a Cheshire cat grin slowly stretching over his face. His hand was still hovering midair, where moments ago he bad reached out a hand to steady Bruce as he prepared to slip by him. He was utterly caught off guard by the gasp and flinch combo that it caused. "Don't tell me you're ticklish..?!" He said slowly, as new pathways formed in his brain, mapping out all the possibilities this discovery just opened up.
"Okay, I won't." Bruce huffed, making sure to knock shoulders with Clark as he stalked past him. Well. That had been the plan, anyway. Unsurprisingly, he was stopped by the solid wall of muscle that was Clark Kent's chest.
"Not so fast." Clark was meeting Bruce's every attempt to get around him with a simple side-step to keep him backed up to the table. "I have a hypothesis. What kind of scientist would I be if I didn't run some tests?"
Bruce glared at the cocky smirk Clark was throwing his way. He was suddenly regretting his earlier refusal to come upstairs for dinner, informing Clark that he was running an experiment and it would be a waste if he didn't run his labs and test out his hypothesis. Of course, Bruce being Bruce, he spoke to Clark like he was 4 years old when he said all of this, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.
"One that doesn't get a chunk of kryptonite shoved into a very painful orifice."
"B, I love it when you talk dirty to me."
The indignity of Clark getting the last word was almost worse than the utter humiliation Bruce felt when a shriek left his mouth without his permission. It sounded somewhat like "Clark" and somewhat like a banshee.
"My hypothesis is that Bruce Wayne, The Dark Knight, Terror of Gotham, is secretly a ticklish softy." Clark had to raise his voice to be heard over the strangled laughter pouring out of Bruce, and the clatter of equipment on the table that was being jostled by his violent squirming.
"i'm go-hohoho-ing to fucking ki-hihihihihi-ll you." Bruce was doing his best to growl through what seemed like endless waves of laughter. Clark's arms were wrapped around his middle, one hand squeezing up and down his flank as the fingers on his other hand gently scratched any surface they could reach.
"Test number one: complete." Clark eased up on his tickling, allowing Bruce to catch his breath. It did nothing to slow the wild hammering of his heart, but he wasn't struggling against Clark's loose hold, so he figured it was more out of embarrassment than it was fear or discomfort. "Your sides are ticklish." He informed Bruce, smirking at the growl rumbling in his chest.
"Great. Are we done here?"
"What's the rush? You seemed to want to take your time earlier."
"That was important-"
"So is this. Diana's going to want to know if you have a human side after-all."
Bruce's response was once again cut off as one of Clark's hands migrated to stomach, fingers gently prodding into the muscles there.
"Test number Two: Does the Batman have a ticklish tummy?" Clark laughed in delight when Bruce's ears instantly burned red.
"This. Is. So. Childish." Bruce said through gritted teeth, refusing to let the laughter flow as he struggled against the arm wrapped around his torso and holding him in place.
"Maybe if I introduce a new variable." Clark pretended like he was talking to himself, but it was very much said to mess with Bruce. He yanked Bruce's shirt out of the waistband of his pants, smirking when Bruce cursed lowly and flexed his stomach muscles as Clark's hand made contact with his bare skin. "Yes, this should do." Clark mused, reveling in the muffled laughter already coming from Bruce before he even began moving his fingers.
"You're such a di-hihihihihihi-ck." Bruce laughed, trying a new tactic by burrowing his body backwards into Clark's chest. Naturally, that just made it easier for Clark's fingers to roam across his stomach, making a quick detour into the caverns of his bellybutton and spending some time there when Bruce squeaked.
"Wow." Clark laughed, mercifully giving Bruce a break after a few seconds of that treatment. "I didn't know you could make that noise, B."
"I am going to drown you in a pool of liquified kryptonite." The fact that he was practically boneless as he leaned back against Clark's chest when there was nothing keeping him there took some of the heat out of his words.
"Test number Two: Complete. The Batman does indeed have a ticklish tummy." Clark's laugh was cut short by the elbow jabbing sharply into his gut. "If you wanted to do a third test, you just had to ask. No need to get violent." Clark's arms once again wrapped around Bruce's torso so he couldn't leave, and Bruce was kicking himself for not pulling away when he had the chance.
"Now where to perform a third test." Clark hummed, resting his chin on Bruce's shoulder as he scanned his friend's body. His feet would be the obvious next choice, but he was enjoying having Bruce pulled flush to his chest, and more than that it seemed like Bruce didn't mind the position either. He didn't want to go and spoil it by laying him out on the floor to torment his feet. That just seemed cruel.
"How about I run a test on you, so we can compare data?" Bruce suggested, testing the strength of Clark's deceivingly loose hold. Unsurprinsingly the arms around him did not budge.
"Well now, that seems like wishful thinking." Clark huffed out a laugh, breath tickling over Bruce's neck and sending the taller man lurching away with a gasp. "Oh?" He asked, chest filled with glee as a blush quickly appeared on Bruce's neck and continued onto his cheeks.
"No." This was the first time Bruce sounded serious, which Clark deduced meant it was a well-known spot. "Clark." He already sounded like he was trying to hold his laughter at bay, and Clark had yet to do anything but tighten his arms around Bruce's waist so he couldn't slip away.
"Bruce? Anything you want to tell me before I run my final test?" This was said into the side of Bruce's neck, setting off an immediate bout of squirming and high-pitch sounds that the dark knight could not keep in despite his closed mouth.
"I will give you a million dollars to forget this ever happened."
"Well now my curiosity is piqued." Bruce was doing his best to knock Clark's face away using his own head, his body squirming at the feeling of Clark's lips just barely ghosting over the delicate skin of his neck. "How does the whole playboy thing work, if people can't even touch your neck?" This was emphasized by Clark suddenly freeing up one of his hands to drag a single finger down the other side of Bruce's neck. Bruce shouted, nervous laughter bursting out of him for a second before he got it somewhat under control.
"They usually take the money." He was still too proud to admit he didn't let his guard down like this in front of most people, thus they never got a chance to see this side of him. (The rare times someone did tickle him, whether on purpose or by accident, they didn't have the ability to hold him down and make him take it. And, wow, he would be exploring his feelings about this later. Alone.)
Clark purposefully laughed into Bruce's neck, and then laughed some more at the giggles Bruce had no choice but to let out. "You know I have to do this, right?" He was still speaking directly into Bruce's neck, and Bruce's sanity was hanging on by a thread.
"Do wh-hahahaha-what?" Bruce asked, knowing he probably would not like the answer. Or, even worse, he would like it and would have to address those feelings, at least to himself.
"Something tells me no one has ever done this to you before." And if Clark was right then he was in for a real treat. "I'm so happy I could be your first, B."
This whole thing with Clark getting the last word was really starting to grate on Bruce's nerves. He could not dwell on it though, because Clark's lips were suddenly on his neck and he was blowing hard, lips vibrating against his sensitive nerve endings. This was it. After 20+ years of being Batman, Bruce was finally going to die in the line of battle (because this meant war, Clark.)
"StopStopStopStopStopStopStop" Bruce chanted, wild laughter bursting out of him. He was trying to fold in half to escape the endless raspberry, but Clark's arms were stubbornly holding him up. Bruce's eyes were squeezed shut, and he could feel something wet running down his face. He shrieked when he felt fingers dancing along his collarbone on the opposite side of his neck, and it felt like the nervous laughter bubbling out of him would never end. "Cla-hahahaha-rk ple-hehe-please please!"
Clark had paused to draw a breath he didn't need, knowing the anticipation of it would mess with Bruce even more. He stopped when he noticed the tears gathering in the corners of Bruce's eyes, a few having leaked down across his cheeks. "Are you crying?" He asked, arms immediately letting go of their hold on Bruce's torso.
"Shut up." Bruce muttered, no real heat in his words as he wiped at his eyes, staring at the salty liquid on his fingers. He felt his face grow impossibly hotter at the realization that he had in fact been crying, albeit unknowingly.
"Did I go too far?" Clark seemed to shrink in on himself, no part of his body touching Bruce's as the other man quickly gained control over his breathing again. "It was just..so unexpected. I didn't mean to.." He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at the state he left Bruce in.
Bruce's cheeks were still dusted with pink, there were tears still gathering in the corners of his eyes, the front of his shirt had been unceremoniously yanked out of his pants and left untucked, and his hair had fallen out of it's carefully tousled style. He looked wrecked, for lack of a better term. He also looked confused at the sudden loss of arms around his torso. And why did Clark look like a kicked puppy?
Bruce stared at Clark in silence, taking in the nervous expression on the other man's face. His arms were drawn in close to his sides, back slightly hunched as though he were trying to make himself appear smaller. The uncertainty and guilt were written clearly on his face. It was clear that the "no-touching" signals Bruce usually threw off were causing him to think he overstepped. The embarrassing accidental tears and begging probably didn't help.
"Have you drawn your conclusion?" Bruce asked, voice a bit scratchy due to the unexpected and unusual amount of laughter.
"I--look, I'm sorry. I got carried away, but I can forget this ever happened."
Bruce raised a single eyebrow at that. "It's too late for that." Clark seemed to hunch in on himself even more. Bruce ran a hand through his hair to attempt a quick fix before sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning casually against the workbench. "The money's off the table. You blew it." An easy smile appeared on his face as Clark uncurled himself at the playful tone.
"You're not...mad?"
"Oh, if you ever touch my neck again I will find a way to kill you." Bruce said it so matter-of-fact that Clark couldn't help the surprised laugh that slipped out.
"Noted." Clark would definitely be tickling his neck again, and they both knew it. Bruce all but gave him permission to do so. "Stomach and sides are fine, though?" He teased, taking a step closer with his hand outstretched.
Bruce's muscles tensed up, but he remained leaning against the desk for appearances sake. "Not if you want to keep that hand."
Clark let it drop...for now. "To answer your question; yes. I did reach my conclusion. I have to amend my hypothesis, though." Clark smirked at Bruce's enquiring sound. "You are extremely ticklish." Bruce grunted at that, his trademark scowling making a reappearance. "And a big softy."
"I think you're the first person to ever call me that." Bruce mused, slapping Clark's hand away when he stretched a finger out towards his neck.
"I made you cry from tickling and you forgave me a minute later." Clark was delighted to see a pink dusting gracing Bruce's ears and cheeks again.
"I wasn't crying." Bruce scoffed. "My eyes were watering from the unexpected sensation of...whatever that was."
"The raspberry?" Clark asked, amusement written clear on his face.
"The--" Bruce stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry, partly to explain it, but mostly to make Clark laugh.
"Oh, this is the start of something special, B." Clark sighed, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. "I take back my earlier statement." Bruce resisted the urge to shrug Clark's hand off his shoulder. "I have not yet reached a conclusion. This question requires further research."
That got Bruce moving. He stood up straight, hands coming out of his pockets as he put a few feet of space between them. "Alfred will kill us if we're late for dinner."
"Dinner was 2 hours ago." Clark informed a genuinely surprised-looking Bruce. He really did lose all track of time when he was working. "Anyway, my research was incomplete. I can't determine if you're ticklish without testing all available variables."
"I could just tell you." Bruce offered, hastily taking a few steps back when Clark slowly started advancing on him.
"That would be corrupted data. You're biased. I need to run my own experiments." Clark put on a small burst of speed to deposit Bruce onto the couch he and Diana bullied him into putting into the cave.
"What are you--CLark! Leave my shoes alone!" Clark was sitting on Bruce's shins, slowly untying his laces and slipping his shoes off his feet.
"It's for Science, B! Now tell me, on a scale of your sides to your neck, where does this land."
Bruce's cursing and muffled laughter echoed off the walls of the cave.
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Their love language is bullying
#tickle art#sfw tickle art#do we want names?#orange is carmen#other is luka#been having fun drawing them!#my sillies
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They drank a bit too much and Jayce decided Viktor was in no state to walk home alone ✨
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My oc's have been getting me out of my drawing slump 😗
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Everybody gangster 'til the claws come out 🥱
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Hey. Pocket Silco getting tickled by Vander. Okay? Okay
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Say you're laying on your stomach just minding your business when they come and sit on top of you and just start to attack your armpits/sides/ribs/hips and you literally can't get up so you're just underneath them giggling up a storm and kicking your legs but you have no choice but to take the tickles like a good girl/boy you are
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Person : "are you ticklish?"
Me with a tickle blog on Tumblr : "me? Nooo..."
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I like the idea of Viktor being one of those aces that make nsfw jokes/remarks when least expected.
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Sleep Ins
I have been inspired to post fic for the first time in what feels like a millennia. I do not remember the last thing I posted. I liked this though so eeeeenjoy!
Title: Sleep Ins
WC: 845w
Summary: Taako likes to sleep in and Magnus tries to wake him up. Just as well Magnus has a patented technique for getting him out of bed.
{ao3 link}
——————
Magnus and Merle knew Taako liked to sleep in, despite being an elf and not really needing it. They both enjoyed their own sleep-ins, but unlike them Taako could not be trusted with an alarm so it fell on one of the two to knock on his door in the mornings and wake him up.
“Come on Tee, up and at ‘em!” Magnus said, banging on his door. Normally this would be followed by a begrudging response, but this time only silence followed. Magnus sighed and opened the door a crack. Taako was curled up under a pile of blankets as usual, only a foot and and the top of his head visible.
Keep reading
#i am HOLLERING#this is so them#obsessed as always#also same taako that spot is the worst#taz balance#taz tk
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he’s got rejection sensitivity
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So I'm very normal about bbno$'s stream. Had uh. Normal thoughts. Yep. Mmhm
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smoOCH!
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Reliable Cures
Guess what… another one from the discord. Man, y’all are nuts (with much affection). TW for a smidge of depression at the start.
Title: Reliable Cures
WC: 1183w
Summary: Since being reborn into several different realities, Viktor has a hard time convincing himself that his life holds worth. He asks Jayce to pull him out of a bad stint with one of the only ways he knows of.
———-
There were bits of missing paint on the ceiling. Viktor knew this because he’d spent the past half hour staring at it. Jayce was in the kitchen, but he wasn’t going to go and rain on his parade just because he was feeling a little down. Well, maybe a lot down. The ceiling was interesting though, and it distracted him from the fact he should not be alive.
“V?” Jayce poked his head through the door. “You alright in there?”
Viktor didn’t answer or even move, and that was all Jayce needed. He gave a half smile before coming over to lean back with him on the bed.
“There’s paint missing in that corner.” Viktor said. Jayce hummed.
“There is.”
They lay there in each other's presence for a while until Jayce sat up again.
“I can tell you’re stuck in there.” He tapped on Viktor’s forehead. “What do you need?”
This was a familiar song and dance with them, so Jayce let Viktor silently take his hands and put them on his rib cage. Jayce’s look of concern morphed into a knowing smile at Viktor’s pink tinged cheeks.
“As you wish.”
Jayce leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Viktor’s forehead before dragging his hands down to the hem of his shirt. His hands slipped under it and Viktor twitched when Jayce’s hands replaced themselves on his ribs. His touch was warm and comforting, so Viktor let himself relax into it while burying his face in the nearest pillow - no way was he able to look Jayce in the face while asking for this.
Two fingers started delicately tracing feather light patterns over his ribs and Viktor twinged to the side, not making a sound. His arms stayed close to his sides, not pressing down but still defensive. Jayce smiled and kept tracing, noticing the spots that made Viktor twitch or wriggle.
“Can you lift your arms higher?” Jayce asked, and Viktor shuffled downwards so he could wrap his arms around the pillow he was hiding in. They both knew keeping still was a gargantuan task that neither of them could achieve, but arms? Still a hard ask, but that was fair game.
Two more fingers were added to the fray, paired up on each side to keep up the tingly patterns that were as comforting as they were tickly. Jayce was starting to hear muffled snickers coming from the pillow, so he pushed his shirt up fully to reveal the expanse of Viktor’s torso. His brace was off, tossed to the side, so he had full access to all the little marks that made his partners’ body his. Jayce pressed a kiss to a mole on his side and Viktor jerked, still quiet.
He figured it was time to make some noise, so Jayce added the rest of his fingers to the mix. With ten fingers spidering over his ribs, Viktor truly could not hold anything back. Full giggles started making themselves known, and slowly Viktor released his hold on the pillow and let Jayce see his face. His nose was scrunched up and his eyes were closed, but Jayce couldn’t look away from his wide smile.
“J-Jahahyce!”
“Yeah?” He replied, moving his spidering under his arms. Viktor squeaked in response, legs pedalling a little on the sheets before going completely floppy. He was laughing openly now, and Jayce couldn’t help but pepper little kisses all over his face and neck.
“Fuhuhuck, Jahayce!”
“You already said that.” Jayce teased, and Viktor looked him dead in the eyes.
“Amp it up.”
Jayce grinned and cracked his knuckles, laughing at Viktor’s eye roll before wiggling his fingers and burying them in his ribs. Viktor yelped and broke into full laughter, now unable to stop squirming. His ribs were a bad spot and Jayce knew it.
“Yohou fuhucker!” Viktor cried, and Jayce dragged his fingers down his ribs and skittered up his stomach a few times.
“I cannot stress how much you literally asked for this.”
Viktor made a choked noise and tossed his head to the side, almost trying to meld into the pillow behind him.
“Ihit tickles”
“You know what I bet would tickle more? It’s a game I call ‘I wonder how many ribs Viktor has…’”
“Ohoho, nonononO-!”
Jayce’s hands set themselves at the base of his ribs, wiggling between each one leading up to the top and making Viktor’s laughter turn silent. When he reached about halfway, just before a spot he knew would get him screaming, Jayce stopped.
“Ah shit, I lost count. I guess I’ll have to start again, super precise this time.”
Viktor just about lost his mind at that. “I’m gohoing to kihIHILL YOHOU!”
The whole torturous process started again and Viktor thrashed under him, steadfastly keeping his arms out of the way despite how badly his instincts told him to bring them down. This time Jayce kept going up his ribs and ever so gently wiggled his fingers into a particular spot just below the centre. Viktor cackled and just about kneed him in the stomach, yelling gibberish.
“Whoa, who knew that spot was bad?”
“YOHOU FUCKING DIHIHID!” Viktor cried, still laughing uncontrollably.
“This is like a tickle button!” Jayce teased, drilling into his death spot. Viktor was nearly crying and jerking like a fish out of water, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed more.
Jayce moved back to spidering over his ribs and stomach and Viktor narrowed his eyes at him.
“Hahah… that’s the behest you’ve gohohot?”
Jayce raised his eyebrows at the challenge. “Just remember. You signed up for this.”
Hands attached themselves back onto the extremely ticklish spot on his ribs and Viktor had about a second to prepare before Jayce was blowing a huge raspberry on his tummy. That was it - Viktor shrieked. It tickled more than his poor brain could comprehend, but it was perfectly filling the deficit in his soul. Viktor completely let himself go, thinking it couldn’t get any worse, but boy was he wrong.
Jayce pulled one of his hands away and pressed Viktor’s left arm to the bed while blowing a trail of raspberries up to his ribs, his other hand still skittering wildly. Once the raspberries reached that sensitive spot, Viktor lost the will to fight. Jayce was nibbling and tickling over his ribs like it was a five star meal, his scratchy beard wreaking havoc at the same time and Viktor felt like he was simultaneously in heaven and hell. He was pretty sure he was screaming, and there may have been some pointed knocks on the walls but there was no chance he could hold back now.
Once Viktor had been reduced to a gasping, laughing puddle of bones and tickle spots Jayce relented, scooping his hands under Viktor’s shoulders and cuddling close. He couldn’t help leaving a few last tickly kisses on his neck, though.
“I think my brain is sludge.” Viktor managed, coming down from the high. Jayce laughed.
“I’m impressed you can talk.”
“Shhhhut up.”
The next morning, several noise complaints were delivered to their door. Worth it.
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YO where'd all these moots come from?!?! Y'all are so cool I'm gonna throw up
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Oh my god Arcane AND TAZ??? Truly someone after my own heart lol (also holy shit the jayvik art,,,, JUICY)
Ahhhhh im freakin out I love your stuff so much tyyyy!!! And yooo I LOVE TAZ ive been listening for foreverrrrrr
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