#ler!clarkKent

[fickle-tiction]

Hey fickle! Do you think you would be interested in doing 11 and 24 for superbat? If not that okay, hope you’re have a good day!-bookanon💚

On a rare peaceful night in, Bruce and Clark were sat on the couch together, Bruce on one end and Clark in the middle. (Bruce's ear was still stinging from where Clark had flicked it earlier, after Bruce asked if he would be faking a yawn so he could wrap his arm around his shoulders.) On screen a couple were laying in bed together, when all of a sudden the guy rolled on top of his girlfriend and began tickling her, causing her to burst into sweet laughter. Clark positively lit up as an idea stuck him.

"Hey B?"

"Hmm?"

“Can I tickle you?”

Bruce slowly turned his head, meeting Clark's hopeful smile with a frown.

" …"

"I'll take your silence as a yes."

Bruce wasn't given a chance to react. One second he was sitting on the couch with his "loving" boyfriend, and the next he was flat on his back and being crushed to death by over 200 pounds of solid muscle. "Clark!" Bruce grunted, trying to dodge Clark's attempts at grabbing a hold of his wrists.

"The fact that you're struggling this hard tells me you must be really ticklish." Clark taunted, lighting up with glee when he saw a dusting of pink appear high on Bruce's cheeks.

"That. Is. Classified Information." Bruce protested. "Shit." Clark laughed triumphantly when he got a hold of Bruce left wrist, stretching it above his head and securing it to the couch cushions with an iron grip.

"Any last words, tough guy?"

Bruce tried one last Hail Mary and used his free hand to sucker-punch Clark in the stomach. "Motherfucker." He immediately regretted his rash decision, knuckles stinging where they managed to connect just as Clark sucked his stomach in to avoid him breaking anything.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that." The smile on Clark's face was truly the stuff of nightmares.

"Can't we talk about this?" Bruce asked, unsurprised when his right arm was also pulled above his head and secured in Clark's grip.

"Sure." Clark walked his free hand down Bruce's right arm, feeling the muscles jumping beneath his skin as he slowly made his way past his armpit and down to his ribs. "You talk." He noted every spot that caused Bruce's heartrate to spike, though his expression remained unchanged. "I'll tickle."

"Clark, this is ridiculous," Bruce said, but the corners of his mouth betrayed a hint of amusement.

"Time to find out just how ticklish the Playboy Prince of Gotham really is."

Bruce couldn't even protest at the stupid nickname Clark saw in one newspaper and refused to let go of.

"Oh fuck." Bruce breathed, yanking uselessly at his arms as Clark's fingers began their dance across his stomach. It was just dumb luck that he started with Bruce's worst spot, but laughter was pouring out of him in no time.

"Bruuuuce," Clark said it in that sing-song voice that usually irritated Bruce, but he was too busy trying to burrow backward into the couch cushions to even notice. "You're supposed to be talking remember?" a quick squeeze to Bruce's side caused him to jolt and level his gaze on Clark. "I'm holding up my end of the agreement."

"You---Are--A--SOnOfABitch." Bruce broke down into deep belly laughter when Clark slipped his hand beneath his shirt and started scratching blunt nails over his bare skin.

"That's not a very nice thing to say." Clark admonished, dipping a finger into Bruce's belly button. He let out a delighted laugh when Bruce threw his head back and cackled. There really was no better word for it.

"I'm--fuck--I'm sorry." Bruce gasped out, cheeks bright red when Clark finally took pity on him and stopped vibrating his finger into his bellybutton at a slightly inhuman speed.

"Hmmm." Clark idly tapped his fingers on Bruce's ribcage as he pretended to mull something over. "No, I think you're going to have to do better than that." He then released Bruce's arms and buried his wiggling fingers into Bruce's armpits, unbothered by the arms that came flying down to try to force him out.

"I--AmGoingTo--hahaha-fucking--KihihihihihiKILLYOU!" Bruce shouted, doing his best to curl into a ball while Clark was sitting on his thighs and pinning him in place.

"The more you threaten me, the more I'm going to tickle you." Clark warned him as he easily slipped his hands out of his armpits. Bruce had 2 seconds to calm down before Clark was using one hand to squeeze at his side, while the other once more slipped beneath his shirt to gently scratch at bare skin.

"Cl-Cl-hahaha-Clark! You fu-hahaha-fucking asshole!" Bruce's knuckles were white with how tight he was clinging to Clark's wrists, but his hands might as well be pinned above his head again for all the good it was doing him.

"Oh?" Clark asked, dipping into Bruce's belly button warningly. Bruce squealed, face flushing bright red the second the sound left his mouth, and Clark took pity on him and allowed him to pull his hand out from beneath his shirt. "It's like you want me to keep tickling you."

"Shut up Clark." Bruce growled, the red flush in his cheeks racing down his neck and disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

"Wait," Clark's smile softened at the embarrassed look Bruce was now sporting. "Do you want me to tickle you?"

Bruce couldn't help the embarrassed little whimper that slipped out, shifting nervously beneath Clark's bulk. "I don't...not want you to." He mumbled looking anywhere but at Clark.

"Really?" Clark looked like Christmas, his birthday, and every holiday in between had just come early.

"If you tell anyone about this.." Gone was the embarrassed boyfriend of 5 seconds ago. That look and voice were all Batman.

"Yeah, yeah." Clark huffed, rolling his eyes fondly. "Your stash of kryptonite. My ass. Honestly, you need new threats."

Bruce looked like he was revving up for what was sure to be a chilling new way in which he could murder Clark so, naturally, Clark chose that moment to see if Bruce's neck was as ticklish as his entire torso seemed to be. Newsflash: it was worse.

[thebest-medicine]

I’m starved for my adventures with Superman content, don’t think we could get 22 or 35 with Lois & Clark?

Prompt 22 - "Don't make me make you."

Prompt 35 - "What? Me? Ticklish? As if!"

A/N: I love my adventures with Superman it’s so cute and so Superman energy!!! Yeeeee

…

“Really, I’m sorry I mentioned it. I don’t wanna bother you with my stupid dreams. It’s silly.”

“It’s not.”

“Lois, it’s fine, really. Just forget about it.”

“Clark, you can tell me, please.”

“It’s fine, it’s okay. Don’t worry about them!”

“Don’t make me make you.”

“Really, I don’t want to bother you with— uh.. make me?” Clark tilted his head, a little amusement hinting on his lips.

“Yeah!” Lois declared in a teasing lilt, her eyes darkening. “Tell me all about that dream of yours, or I’ll make you talk.”

“And.. how exactly are you planning to do that?” He asked, smirking now.

“By… tickling you of course!” Lois blurted out as though it were a long discussed, well thought out plan she’d had the entire time.

“What?” Clark scoffed, smiling bashfully despite himself. “Me? Ticklish? As if!”

“We’ll see about that, Clark Kent.” Lois said ominously.

The next thing he knew she had thrown herself at him, shrieking out a cackling war cry and grabbing for his waist. Clark blushed, tensing up under the proximity and intimate touch. He felt an all-too-familiar, tingling shock emanating from where her fingers danced across his skin. Crap.

“I can feel you twitching! You’re totally ticklish, you liar!” Lois teased, working harder toward her goal. She tickled up to his ribs and tried to worm a hand under his arm only for him to reach instinctively to block her. He shook his head, pleading briskly through his shaking, held-in laughter.

Once she had her mind set on something, she never gave up. Clark never imagined that quality, which he loved about her so much, would land him here.

She tried his neck with one hand, bellybutton with the other, and Clark squeaked before breaking down into giggling laughter. “Wahahahahahait!”

“Not stopping til you feel like talking.” Lois insisted, switching between sides of his neck as he tried to scrunch. “Your laugh is adorable, I could do this all day.”

“Gahahahahaha! Okahahahhahay! I’ll talk! I’ll tahahahha-ahahalk!” Clark cackled after a long couple of minutes.

Lois patted his cheek and stood, helping him back to his feet. “See, isn’t it easier to just let me help you?”

“Yohohohou’re a menace, Lois Lane.” Clark smiled affectionately, teasing her.

Lois stuck her tongue out at him. “Now tell me about this dream that’s been bothering you or I start tickling again.”

“Okay! Okay!” Clark whined.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further MAWS drabbles on ao3]

[maniac4marvel-fluff-addition]

( I know this isn't Marvel but shhhh it's so freaking cute.)

Ahhhh I love this! Bruce inner monolog was so cute and spot on. Bruce and Clark and Diana! If you continue this is there a possibility she'll join in the future 👀

“It’ll be fun” They said.

“Clark, no.” It seems cliché to say that Bruce growled that statement, but there really was no better way to describe the man’s tone.

“Clark, yes.” Clark sounded more like an excited toddler than he did a grown man.

~

‘You have to open up around those you care about.’ They said. ‘You have to be vulnerable with your significant other.’ They said. ‘You have to let your guard down.’ They said. Whoever ‘They’ were, They gave terrible advice.

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