#ticklish!clarkkent

[fickle-tiction]

Like an Old Married Couple

  “Oh, you two are in for it when this is over.” Despite her words, Diana didn’t actually seem mad as she tested Clark’s grip around her wrists. She could wiggle a miniscule amount, and she knew from past experiences that in time she would be able to pull free. Then the two men hovering above her would regret every choice they made that morning.

“This wasn’t my idea. If anyone should die, it’s Clark.” Bruce was kneeling on the bed next to Diana, hands resting on his thighs for the time being. Clark was sitting on the tops of her thighs, effectively pinning her in place. For now.

“Doesn’t matter.” Diana was rotating her wrists in Clark’s hold as she spoke. Clark pressed them further into the mattress. “You’re helping him, therefore you will go down with him.”

Bruce knew retaliation was inevitable when he agreed to help Clark, so he just smirked at his girlfriend. “Well then, Princess, I see no reason to show you any mercy.”

“Whatever you do to me, I will do back in double.” 

There was a 50/50 chance that was true. Bruce didn’t love those odds. “Eh, you’re not that mean.”

“Can you two stop flirting and get to the tickling?” Clark actually sounded a little winded, which was concerning and also a little annoying if you were Bruce. He didn’t even break a sweat when Bruce was the one being held down. “I can’t actually hold her down forever.”

“See? It was all his idea. And now I think he’s feeling left out” Bruce turns to Clark with a mocking smirk on his face. “Are you feeling left out, Clarkie?”

“Keep it up and you’ll be in her spot next.” Bruce would never say it out loud, but just the thought of that had phantom tingles racing up and down his nerves.

“This is why you two never manage to get me. You bicker like an old married couple, and by the time you remember I’m here I’ve already gotten free.” Diana wrenched her left hand out of Clark’s grip with a triumphant laugh, but it was quickly caught by Bruce and slammed back onto the bed, where Clark resumed his hold.

“Do I need to hold her down for you?” 

“Just get to it.” Clark grunted, struggling to keep his hold on Diana’s wrists as she relentlessly tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Strongest man in the world, my ass.” Bruce muttered, just before his wiggling fingers descended on Diana’s triceps. 

“Bruce!” Diana shouted before quickly dissolving into delighted laughter. Diana always gave in immediately, happy to release her inhibitions and enjoy the game. It was very different to Bruce, who’s laughter had to be dragged out of him after a lot of grumbling and grunting, until he can’t hold it in any longer. Fortunately, he had no qualms about laughing as one of his partners is being taken apart.

“Yes?” He teased, tickling fingers migrating down into her exposed armpits. Diana’s eyes reflexively snapped shut as deep belly laughs were drawn out of her. “Now where is your favorite spot, again?” As though he could ever forget. “Was it here?” He began tapping at that awful spot between armpit and upper ribs. The spot that made all of them jolt and try to squirm away like their lives depended on it.

“You wi-hihihihi-ll regret th-hihihihi-is!” 

“Was it her neck?” Clark asked. Just because his hands were occupied with holding him down didn’t mean he couldn’t suggest spots for Bruce to try.

“It might have been.” Bruce traced his blunt fingernails over the delicate skin of Diana’s neck. She tossed her head side to side to try to dislodge the fingers as giggles began to pour out of her. He let up after a few seconds when her laughter started to sound frantic.

“Or was it her thighs?” Bruce’s smile was scary when it was being directed at you and you couldn’t move. 

“Ihihihi am going to ti-hihih-ickle your ears until they fall off.” How did she manage to sound so terrifying when she was still laughing and smiling?

“This was his idea!” Bruce insisted, jamming a finger into Clark’s unprotected ribs to emphasize his point.

Clark inhaled sharply, body twitching since he couldn’t bring an arm down to protect himself. “What are you talking about, B? You asked me to hold her down.”

“I did not!” Bruce should have known Clark would try to pin this on him to save himself from revenge. He should have seen it coming, but noooo. He had to go and trust that his boyfriend would have his back since he agreed to help him out in the first place. He was in a relationship with two traitors. 

“One of you is going down for this.” Diana sounded far too calm for someone who was shaking with laughter a minute ago. 

Bruce knew he had to act fast, or he was going to end up flat on his back. It was now or never. He locked eyes with Diana for a second before he attacked, burying his fingers into Clark’s open armpits and wiggling them furiously.

Clark went down like a sack of potatoes, collapsing onto Diana as his arms gave out. “You hahaha fucking tr-hahaha-traitor!” Clark cackled, arms clamped to his sides as Bruce’s hands roamed his body in search of every sensitive spot he could reach.

Bruce climbed on top of Clark’s back, knowing his added weight wouldn’t hurt Diana. “You were going to throw me under the bus.” Bruce pointed out as he wedged his hand between their bodies to tickle at Clark’s stomach.

Diana was using her now free hands to tweak Clark’s sides, and Bruce seized the opportunity to tickle her armpit with his other hand. “Wouldn’t want you feeling left out, down there.” 

Yeah, that might have been his fatal mistake.

Diana ceased her attack on Clark’s sides and leaned in to whisper something into his ear. Bruce froze, eyes wide with panic. Diana was smirking at him, and Clark was shifting beneath him.

“Wait.” Bruce started, pressing down harder on Clark, to no effect. “Let’s talk about this.” 

One second Bruce was laying on Clark’s back, Diana beneath the two of them; The next he was wrapped in Clark’s arms, his back to Clark’s chest, and Diana was straddling his waist. “Oh fuck.” Bruce breathed, a nervous smile already stretching across his face.

“We didn’t want you feeling left out.” Diana smirked. Bruce’s arms were free, and his hands were hovering in front of himself in anticipation.

“This was his ide-heeeeeeaaaaa.” Bruce’s words turned into a screech when Clark leaned forward to nose behind his ear midsentence. 

“That may be.” Diana was prodding random spots on his torso, delighted to watch him squirm away from any real good ones she managed to find. “But you betrayed him. And now you must pay.” 

“Ihihihi was helping you!” Bruce was trying, unsuccessfully, to fight his laughter as Diana gently dug into his abs.

“And I was helping you.” Clark spoke up, lips against Bruce’s neck sending ticklish vibrations into the skin. 

“Ihihihihi-it wasn’t my-hihihihihi idea!”

“If you two could stop bickering long enough to tire me out, neither of you would be in this position.” Naturally, Diana used one hand to squeeze the spot above Bruce’s hip that drove him wild, while the other hand squeezed the muscle above Clark’s knee, drawing startled laughter out of him.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Clark laughed, unable to pull his leg away without hurting Bruce. He had no choice but to leave it where it was and take it. Naturally, the only course of action was to take it out on Bruce, so he attack his ribs with vigor. 

“Shihihihit!” Bruce laughed, squirming every which way on instinct. He was alternating between trying to capture someone, anyone’s, hands, and trying to fight back by tickling any spot he could reach.

This went on for another few minutes, during which Bruce received the brunt of the attacks since he was in the middle. When he couldn’t take anymore, he mustered up enough breathe to yell out “Truce! Tru-hahah-truce! Plehehehease!” 

It was the “please” that really did it. All hands withdrew, and Clark loosened his grip around Bruce’s middle. Instead of shooting to the other side of the bed, like they expected, Bruce slumped back against Clark, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Diana collapsed on the bed next to them, laughing, her arm slung loosely over both of their middles.

“I am never helping either of you again.” Bruce huffed, a tired smile still on his face.

“Neither am I.” Clark laughed, running his palms up and down Bruce’s stomach and chest to sooth what he knew were now  jittery nerves.

“It wasn’t my idea.” Bruce insisted.

“It wasn’t mine.”

“Yes. It was.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

Diana huffed, rolling her eyes fondly as her partners continued to bicker like an old married couple beside her.

[pizza-cultist]

Amazonian VS. Kryptonian

A/N: I was re-watching Batman v Superman, and this idea came to mind. 

Clark makes it sound like he is stronger and better than Diana. Of course, he’s a lot more subtle and humble about it. However, the Amazon has a lot more underneath her belt, and she uses that to her advantage -- with a twist.

“My people have been destroyed a long, long time ago. Due to harvesting Krypton’s core for power, and wealth. Well, it turned out bad for them and the planet imploded on itself.” Kal-El sighed, looking at his fellow comrades. “Since then, I have battled some of the most challenging foes, and I’ve come out stronger because of it.”

Batman scoffed, fiddling with his suite. “Yeah, no kidding... I remember them all.” He straightened out and turned to face Diana. “Say, where were you when General Zod attacked?”

Her lips turned into a thin line as she cast her eyes to the floor. “I wasn’t ready to reveal who I was. You know that, Bruce.”

He crossed his arms, feeling a pang of guilt. “You faced the biggest foe of us all, Diana.” Everyone looked at him, ready to protest his claim. “You had to overcome the grief of losing someone you loved.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “I say that makes you stronger than Clark.”

Aquaman snickered as he leaned back in his seat, twisting his trident around like a toy. “I say you spar, really show us who is stronger. Sure, you guys went through your own trials in life with various villains and what not,” He stood up, tossing his weapon into the ground, making Bruce frown, that would be the fourth time this week he’s had to patch up holes in the ground from Arthur, “But, who really is the strongest here?” He darted his eyes between Wonder Woman and Superman. “The Kryptonian, or the Amazon.” 

Wayne went to protest but clamped his mouth shut. Even he was curious by who was the strongest one. “You know, normally I would try and stop altercations from happening between two of our strongest. I mean, yes, Superman has stopped Doomsday, with the help of me and Wonder Woman, however, Diana is literally part God. Zeus is her father after all.” 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bruce.” Kal-El frowned.

“I’m not opposed to it, either.” Flash grinned. “I mean, how cool would it be to see who is the strongest, didn’t you, like, defeat Ares?”

Diana nodded, sighing. “I think Kal-El is slightly stronger than me. He has many more abilities than me, for example, his ice breath and heat/x-ray vision. However, I fair better in hand-to-hand combat. I am an Amazonian warrior, after all.” 

Clark chuckled. “I believe her, I may have more when it comes to abilities, and perhaps stronger, but if it really came down to it. Diana would most likely beat me. Now, if it were a matter of pure strength, I think we can both agree I would win.”

Prince quirked a brow, making every else back up, knowing damn well what was coming next. “Clark, I do believe you are mistaken. As Bruce stated, I am a descendant of Zeus himself.”

“That may be so, but that would make you only part God. What is the correct term for that? A demi-god.” Kal-El slowly got up from his seat, preparing himself for what he assumed was coming next.

“Oh, well, if that’s true then you’ll have no issues defeating me.” Prince smiled and charged at him skillfully evading his counterattacks. She easily tossed him to the ground and pinned him down with her knee. “Kal-El, admit defeat and we’ll never talk of this again.”

Superman smiled, only to turn the tables. He hovered slowly off the ground, Diana didn’t notice until it was too late. Clark flipped over, causing Diana to fall a short distance to the ground. She let out a grunt and didn’t waste anytime leaping to her feet, standing in a fighting pose. Preparing her mind and body for battle. She was an Amazonian warrior, the defeater of Ares, and the offspring of Zeus. Kal-El would never defeat her, she would reign victorious. However, despite everything, she cared for him and she would never hurt him. This was all for fun. They both hurdled towards each other, Clark in the air, and Diana on the ground. She easily grabbed onto him, flipping him over her shoulder and tossing him to the ground -- again. He grunted in surprise and was about to fly out from underneath her when she grabbed onto his sides to still him, only to elicit a yelp from him. 

Diana pulled away, afraid she somehow hurt him. “Are you hurt?” She asked, her voice laced with concern.

He shook his head, gulping down the nervous lump forming in his throat. “No, you just surprised me, that’s all.” He got to his feet and smoothed out his suit. “You did well, Diana. You win.” 

She stared at him in bewilderment, wracking her brain for a possible reason for him all of a sudden tucking tail and running. “Wait, you’re ticklish, aren’t you?” Barry all of a sudden said as he sped in front of Superman with a big shit-eating grin gracing his features. “I could’ve sworn you smiled when she grabbed you.”

A slight grimace appeared on Kal-El’s face before he sobered up and covered it up with a smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Barry.”

“Is that right? Well, I’m known as the Flash for a reason. It’s kinda hard to miss those little things.”

“I told you-- AH!” He reeled back when he felt a jab in his ribs. 

Barry grinned. “You are ticklish.”

Diana smiled mischievously as she sidled up to his side. “Well, this is rather fascinating information, what shall we do with it, Barry?”

“I say you use it to your advantage. I know better than to touch the Man of Steel. He has the strength to bash my face in with his pinky finger, so I’m going to leave it up to you.” He backed away, leading the rest of the men out of the room.

“Kal-El, son of Krypton. The Man of Steel, Superman, Clark Kent, you are ticklish? What a crippling weakness.” She snickered, tweaking a finger in his ribs. He stifled back a giggle as he flinched away from her touch, making her smile only grow.

“Diana, please, don’t do this.” He stared at her with pleading eyes. “It’s embarrassing enough that everyone already knows.”

This only fueled her as she grabbed his shoulder, and forced him to the ground, ignoring his protests. She straddled him, pinning both of his arms underneath her powerful thighs. Diana didn’t hesitate to drive all ten fingers into his ribs, causing him to holler out and throw his head back in mad giggles. She spidered her fingers up and down his ribs, crisscrossing over his torso, and down to his stomach. She had a feeling his tummy was the spot. 

“Clark, I have a very important question for you...” Diana hovered her hands over his stomach, and an evil glint in her eye, “How ticklish is your stomach?”

“Diana! Please, don’t do this! Come on, have pity!” The Kryptonian begged. He knew he could toss her off if he really tried, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt anyone. 

“Don’t do what, Kal-El?” She asked innocently.

“Tickle me.” He responded, immediately regretting it the moment it left his mouth.

“Well, if you insist.” And with that, she raked her nails across his stomach.

He arched his back and threw his head back into hysterical laughter. Sucking in his tummy to get away from her evasive fingers, and those nails. However, if anything, it only made it worse. His suite did little to protect him from her. She seemed to focus all of her efforts on his stomach, occasionally, one of her hands would trail up his side before focusing on his belly. Diana’s grin alone was an indication she was having a great time. Kal-El, on the other hand, was not. He was glad this is torment brought her immense joy, but he couldn’t take this anymore. 

“DIAHAHAHAHAHA--” He cried out, twisted underneath her, trying to free himself without hurting her.

“Yes, Kal-El?” 

“STAHAHAHAP! Please...” His feet thrummed against the floor, his head shaking from side to side, and he flopped around, just anything to stop her from further assaulting him. 

She finally took pity on him and slowly ceased her tickling. Leaving her fingers to linger on his stomach when she finally stopped. Clark was hyper-sensitive, and even with her fingers not doing anything but sitting there. He continued to giggle uncontrollably, struggling underneath her.

“What’s wrong, Clark?” She smiled.

“Diana! Stohohop! Plehehehease!” He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the ground, his smile nearly cracking his face in half.

“I will, only if you admit I’m the stronger one.” She smirked.

Kal-El groaned through his laughter. “Yohohohou’re thehehe strohohohonger one! Now plehehehehease stahahahap!” 

Satisfied with his answer, she ceased her tickling and got off of him. Letting out her hand to aid him in standing. He hesitated but accepted. Diana heaved him up and patted his back. “You did well, Clark. We shall keep this secret, for now.” She winked before trotting off into the other room with the men. They all exchanged laughs about the whole ordeal. 

Kal-El grumbled in annoyance and plopped down into his chair, he would get revenge on them, his mind went to Barry. He was the one that made everyone aware of his weakness, he’d be the one to pay, and then Bruce and Arthur for standing by. He knew better than to go after Diana, she could easily turn the tables on him. Clark shuddered at the thought and slumped into his seat, exhaling and closing his eyes. What sweet revenge he would get on them, it would be glorious, of course, he would get Diana to aid him, it would be too weird if he were the one to pin them down and tickle them. It wasn’t his style, it was sure Diana’s though.

[fickle-tiction]

Lee: Clark

Ler: Bruce :3

Spot: thighs

"Ohohoho my Godddd!" Laughter was freely bubbling out of Clark as Bruce latched both hands onto his left thigh and began squeezing as fast as his fingers would go. Diana was seated on Clark's stomach, pinning his wrists to the bed while Bruce sat on his shins, leaving his thighs defenseless.

"Golly gee, Clark. Looks like I've found a good spot."

Clark somehow found it within himself to take offense to Bruce's dry tone. "I do not say-" another wave of laughter stole the words from his mouth as Bruce switched thighs. "Golly-hehehe gee!!"

[fickle-tiction]

Clark Kent + ears?

(Writing is hard! You are doing your best and your brain will come around eventually. Love your work! 💙)

nfhosaijpdmkhsuioj thank you!! Okay, fine, you get a short crappy drabble too.

~~~

Bruce loved to tease Clark about how he is actually 2 inches taller than him; than Superman. That's what he was currently doing while acting as the big spoon, arms around Clark's middle and chin resting on his shoulder as he seemingly dwarfed the Man Of Steel.

"You fit perfectly."

From anyone else that would have come off as romantic. Clark could hear the shit-eating grin in Bruce's voice. He chose to ignore it, indulging in a rare moment of Bruce initiating prolonged physical contact.

"Nice and snug." Bruce teased, nosing behind Clark's ear.

Clark 'eeeep'ed flinching away from Bruce. Years of teaching himself how to act human saved him from bolting right out of Bruce's embrace and hurting him, instead he just lurched forward while still in Bruce's arms.

"Oh?" If Clark thought Bruce sounded smug before, it was nothing compared to his tone now. "What's this?" He nuzzled Clark's ear with his nose again while tightening his arms around Clark's torso.

"B." Clark laughed, shaking his head to dislodge the teasing touches. "Knock if ohohoh-off."

Clark laughed as he allowed Bruce to tease him for another minute before using his super speed to escape his grasp and pin him to the bed in the blink of an eye.

"You are a dead man."

"We said no powers in bed! Clark! Cla-hahahaha!"

~~

This....is not what the game is supposed to be??? Sorry??? Does this answer the question???

[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.

[fickle-tiction]

Is that not a thing in Kansas?

 Bruce was laying on his back between Clark and Diana, left arm resting on the pillow above his head and right hand lazily stroking his own stomach just above where the sheet was pooled. “That was...” He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence without coming across as cheesy. 

Diana gasped softly, a teasing smile on her lips as she propped herself up on one elbow on Bruce’s left. “Have we rendered the great Bruce Wayne speechless?”

“So much for that playboy persona.” Clark teased, rolling onto his side so he could see his two partners.

Bruce absolutely refused to let a smile onto his face at their gentle teasing. “That was adequate.” 

“Oh, well if it was just adequate-” Diana gently pushed Bruce’s roaming hand away so she could trail her own fingers over the skin. “-then maybe we should try again.”

Bruce wasn’t sure he could move, let alone go another round, but he was up for the challenge. His eyes drifted closed as Clark began rubbing circles into his chest, head tilted back against the pillow. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when Diana’s nails dragged across the skin between his hipbones, muscles jumping beneath the skin.

“What was that?” Clark asked, his stilling on Bruce’s chest.

“Hmm?” Bruce asked, eyes still closed. He twitched sideways a bit when Diana dragged her nails over the same spot. “Knock it off.” He huffed, his signature frown invading his face.

“Are you hurt?” Diana asked, concern lacing her voice as she also stilled her hand.

“What?” Bruce asked, confused when he opened his eyes to see both of their concerned looks. “No.” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “I’m just ticklish.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark’s strangled voice was making Bruce even more befuddled. “You’re...ticklish?”

“Yes...” Bruce wasn’t as relaxed now that he realized he was under both of their scrutiny. “Is that...not a thing in Kansas?”

“It is a thing in Themyscira.” Diana sounded almost gleeful, and Bruce did not understand the reason for her predatory smirk. He almost missed Clark’s indignant “Of course it’s a thing in Kansas.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” It wasn’t often that Bruce was confused, and he didn’t enjoy the feeling.

“Uhm, because you just told your-” The slightest of pauses before Clark chose a word and carried on. “-partners that you, Batman, quite possibly the grumpiest man on the planet, are ticklish.” And now he looked gleeful. 

“Am I missing something here?” Bruce was so lost that he didn’t even roll his eyes or smack Clark for calling him grumpy.

“Bruce,” Diana was speaking slowly, in the voice she normally reserved for children. “We are going to tickle you now.”

“But....you just did?” Bruce sounded lost.

“Wait.” Clark paused in the act of pinning Bruce’s arms above his head. “Have you never been properly tickled before?”

“What the hell does it mean to be properly tickled?” Bruce asked, reflexively testing Clark’s grip and finding that he couldn’t move his arms.

“Really?” Diana asked, head cocked to the side. She had changed to a kneeling position next to Bruce’s prone form. “That’s so sad.” She didn’t even sound like she was joking, which caused Bruce to resume his frowning. 

“Oh, you are in for it.” Clark laughed, holding Bruce’s wrists with one hand. The other was trailing down the delicate skin on Bruce’s inner arm, headed towards his armpit.

“In for whaaa---hngh.” Bruce clamped his mouth shut, instinctively trying to yank his arm down as Clark’s fingers slithered their way down his bicep and stationed themselves in his armpit, where they started wiggling.

“My touch earlier may have tickled,” Diana said, resuming her gentle caress between Bruce’s hipbones. “But this is tickling.” And then her fingers were on his hips and mimicking Clark’s, but she had two hands free and it instantly caused surprised laughter to burst out of Bruce.

“Wow, he cracks easy.” Clark laughed, his fingers venturing down to tease at the muscle between Bruce’s armpit and upper ribcage. 

Bruce threw his head from side to side, desperately trying to pull his arms down. Clark’s grip was unrelenting, but Diana wasn’t pinning his lower half down and he had no problem twisting away from her devious fingers. The only issue there was that every time he dislodged her fingers they merely attacked somewhere new.

“Ohohohohoh my god!” Bruce cackled, his entire face scrunching with the force of his laughter. “Not there!” He gasped, eyes popping open when Clark’s fingers migrated all the way down to the bottom of his ribcage and attacked the muscle there.

“Yes there.” Diana insisted, taking it upon herself to attack the same spot on his other side.

Bruce threw his head back, raspy laughter pouring out of him as he squirmed from side to side. The fact that there was two of them and thus nowhere to go made him laugh more, and wasn’t that a weird reaction. 

They only tickled Bruce for another minute, backing off after deeming his entire torso to be ticklish. Bruce’s arms came flying down as soon as Clark released his wrists, pressing tight to his sides as his residual laughter wore off. 

“What the hell was that?” Bruce asked, pink-cheeked and smiling tiredly.

“What, this?” Clark asked, sneaking in another tickle at Bruce’s stomach. Clark threw his head back and laughed when Bruce yelped and tried to scramble away from him. It was so out-of-character for the normally stoic man. 

Diana wrestled Bruce back down onto the bed before he could get very far, a smile playing around her mouth as Bruce’s ears flushed a dark red. “Kal, don’t tease.” She admonished, throwing her arm over Bruce’s middle so he didn’t get any ideas and try to get away. “Have you really never been tickled?” She was now running the flat of her palm over Bruce’s tense stomach in soothing circles.

“Not like that.” Bruce’s eyes had yet to leave Clark. Clark, the little shit, was wiggling his fingers just out of reach of Bruce’s bare side.

“Not even when you were a boy?” Diana reached out lightening quick and smacked Clark’s hand away. She didn’t dignify Clark’s wounded puppy eyes with a reaction.

Bruce thought about it, but came up blank. “Maybe?” He asked, body relaxing when Clark put his hand to good use by burying it in Bruce’s hair. “But I’m sure they didn’t hold me down.” He added, glaring at the unrepentant smile on Clark’s face.

Diana’s laugh was like music...is something Bruce would think if he were a sappier man. “Well, now you now what it feels like. I hope you took your mental notes you’re so fond of.” Bruce raised his eyebrows in a silent question. “So you’ll know how to get revenge.” 

It was a testament to how comfortable Bruce was with them that he didn’t yelped when Diana launched herself at Clark, wrestling him down into the spot Bruce had just vacated. It was clear neither of them were using their full powers, not while this close to a naked Bruce, and Clark went more-or-less willingly. 

“Why are you ganging up on me!?” Diana had pinned Clark’s arms the same way he had just pinned Bruce’s. Bruce was wiggling his fingers just out of reach of Clark’s exposed armpits, and Clark suddenly regretted teasing the vengeful man. “Diana started it!”

“Don’t worry.” The smirk Bruce threw Diana’s way was alarming, even to a Goddess. “We’ll get her next.” He promised, wiggling fingers descending into Clark’s armpits.

[fickle-tiction]

15 and/or 17 for superwonderbat? I’m a sucker for lee Clark but you know I adore your lee Bruce too so….*shrugs* IDK HAVE FUN LOVE YA // @tickle-bugs

You're my favorite, you know that?? “Which spot tickles more?” & “I love hearing your laughter."

~~

"Which spot tickles more?" Anyone not currently in the room wouldn't believe you if you told them Bruce Wayne could look this gleeful.

"I am-haahahahaha-I'm not answering th-hahahaha-that!" Clark cackled, head thrown back as his loud laughter rang out. Clark was on his back on the huge bed, arms stretched above his head and being held in place by Diana. Bruce was kneeling next to them and taking advantage of the fact that Clark couldn't float away or flip the tables on him this time.

"They're practically the same spot." Bruce's fingers were curling into Clark's topmost ribs, just under his armpits. Clark's laughter was loud and bright as he tried to shimmy his way out from under Diana's unmovable form.

"But then if I move here-" Bruce moved up to Clark's armpits and started wiggling his fingers wildly. Clark's laughter immediately turned to bubbly giggles, head shaking from side to side as he was forced to lay there and take it. "You giggle." Bruce looked and sounded like a kid on Christmas morning as Clark's nose scrunched up and his giggling continued.

"Ge-hehehehehe-get-hehehe---da-hahaha-DAMMIT!" Clark giggled, shimmying his upper body side-to-side to try and dislodge Bruce's hands. "Get out-hahahaha---"

"What happens if I do this?" Bruce asked, tickling Clark's right armpit with wild abandon, while massaging the top-most ribs on Clark's left side.

Clark was gone. He was thrown into full-blown, deep, desperate laughter. Bruce kept switching between armpit and rib on either side, and Clark couldn't even try to get a word out between his uproarious laughter.

"Do not break him." Diana warned, though she looked highly amused. She hadn't made a move to let Clark up, knowing he could take this and more. Clark not-so-secretly loved when Bruce and Diana teamed up against him to take him down, though he would never admit it. It was the only time he couldn't accidentally use his powers to get away the second he started losing his mind.

"Di, he's Superman." Bruce was teasing him, and Clark was going to die, he was sure of it. "I'm sure he can take a little tickling." Bruce cooed, and Clark's face flushed hot and bright.

Clark mustered all his energy to let out a protest. "Sh-huhuhu-shut up!" He laughed, cheeks burning red.

"What?" Bruce would have sounded innocent, if he wasn't still torturing two of Clark's worst spots. "I haven't even said anything about you not asking us to stop." That really did it, causing Clark's blush to race down his long neck and disappear into the collar of his shirt.

"Don't tease." Diana tsk'd, releasing Clark's wrists when his laughter started sounding hoarse. Clark's arms shot down and Bruce wisely snatched his hands back before they could get trapped. (Clark nearly broke his fingers once when he slammed his arms down during a tickle fight. Bruce was fine, he came away with some bruised knuckles, but Clark had felt terrible about it.)

"Why do you help him?" Clark asked, arms hugging his own torso as he quickly calmed his breathing. He seemed perfectly content to let Diana continue straddling his waist.

"Because I love hearing your laughter." Diana said with a smile, running her fingers through Clark's curls. Clark melted under the gentle touches, and his previously recovered cheeks were once again warming with another blush.

"So I'm supposed to sit here and not make fun of Superman for blushing? Again?" Bruce regretted opening his mouth when his partners both turned their attention to him.

"I love hearing your laughter too." Diana was smirking at him, and Bruce's stomach felt like it was full of ice water. The Amazonian tackled him to the bed before he could even think to make a quick exit.

"Let's see if you blush when I get your ears." Clark smirked. Bruce's panicked laughter quickly filled the room.

[fickle-tiction]

I haven’t seen any Superman or Batman movie but I adore holy musical Batman so that counts. Could I get lee Clark with ler Bruce & tummy as a spot?

God I love those Starkid musicals. You got it!! I don't think I've ever written ler!Bruce before lol this was fun. Also I'm sure I'm taking insane liberties with my little loophole here, please no one kill me lol

Also also, I seem to be incapable of only writing 3 sentences. Whoops.

~~

"Oh-hohohoho my go-hahaha-god!" Clark cackled, head thrown back as laughter flowed freely from his mouth. Bruce was currently straddling his waist, his knees pinning Clark's hands to the sparring mat, as his own hands wreaked havoc on Clark's stomach.

How was Bruce able to pin Clark down and absolutely wreck him without being thrown through a wall, you ask? Easy! Clark was wearing a bracelet embedded with a tiny flake of kryptonite.

Bruce was helping Clark get better at hand-to-hand combat, in case the day came where he couldn't rely on brute force alone to take down his enemies. With Clark's permission, Bruce made him a bracelet with just enough kryptonite in it to bring his strength down to human levels, but not enough to give him any adverse side effects or make him sick. It took a lot of trial and error, but it was worth it. It was a lot easier to train someone when they couldn't accidentally send you soaring across the room when they forgot to pull a punch. Being able to pin Clark down and tickle him was just a really great unforeseen perk.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Bruce was smirking as he pushed Clark's shirt up and scratched his short fingernails over Clark's bare abs. "Does that tickle?"

"You are-hahaha-dead wh-hehehe-when I get this th-hihihihihihi-thing off!"

"I can't believe it took me two weeks to think to try this."

"You-hahaha-you must be sli-hihihi-slipping in your old ahahahahaha-age!"

"Oh, you're just asking for it now." Bruce growled, switching to pinching up and down Clark's sides. Clark howled, startling a laugh out of Bruce.

Clark had always known he was ticklish, but no one ever got him like this. It was easy for him to turn the tables on anyone that tried it, a fact Bruce knew all too well.

"I am go-hohohoho-ing to tickle you to de-hehehehe-ath!" Clark assured Bruce after he stuck a finger into Clark's bellybutton and started wiggling it wildly.

"All the more reason to keep you trapped here."

[pizza-cultist]

Superpain

Fic made by Yves Adele

A/N:  TICKLEFIC movieverse! Somewhere around Superman II. Clark Kent and Louis Lane have been enjoying their relationship to it's fullest extent. Things get wild when Louis breaks out the handcuffs.

Though it sometimes made him uneasy, consistently made him nervous, and usually hurt, he knew this was the only way he could ever be with the woman of his dreams. Clark Kent was a man who certainly didn't know his own strength and lived in constant fear of being lost in the moment and crushing his lover to her death in the bed. This chamber that his parents had sent with him to Earth was truly a blessing in disguise. He worried often that the long-term effects of altering his chemistry so often could be devastating, but his mother was correct; the only way he could ever be with a human was to become one. So, for Louis' sake, he did. Every night, he'd fly her to their cozy, solitary fortress at the north pole (to which she'd insisted upon adding her own decor), he'd give up his powers for the evening, and they would make love: sweet, passionate, beautiful love. However, in true Louis Lane fashion, she began to grow curious as to where his boundaries laid. She'd never known the true strength of Clark Kent, only that the idea of sleeping with the amazing Superman both excited and terrified her. Here, though, he was a man. He was no man of steel, super-anything who was liable just to fly off and leave her wanting. He was human, just like her. It wasn't long before the handcuffs came out.

She was timid about it, at first, as was he. He'd never been so fully restrained and unable to break loose; it was terrifying, but it didn't take much after that point for Louis to become more disheveled and hot than Clark thought he'd ever seen her in all his endeavors as the caped superhero. It was intoxicating. She didn't tie him up every night, heavens no. Once, maybe twice, a week she'd break out some restraint or another. Once in a while, she'd even ask him to tie her up.

Then something happened. It was the circumstances, not the event itself, that were new to Clark. One day, Louis tickled him. Sure, he'd always been ticklish, superhero or not. As a boy he'd once accidentally broken his father's finger fending off such an attack. This was different. Nobody ever tickled Superman (though if they did, they may have discovered his greatest weakness). Nobody, that was, until Louis Lane had him handcuffed to the headboard of his bed.

It was mostly an accident, really, she'd been giggling and exploring his chest with her hands, when she'd brushed him too quickly and lightly on his ribcage. He'd shuddered only a moment, a twitch, really. But Louis was a reporter, and a damn good one, and she saw the panic flash across his face. Clark closed his eyes and silently prayed that was the end of it. And it was...for that night. It was a few weeks later that she decided to experiment. Louis Lane was not a girl of kinks; she was fairly conservative regarding sex, actually, but there was something utterly hypnotizing about being the one person who could get under Superman's skin and make him moan, pant, and beg for more. He begged for more of her. She felt brilliant. Buying these new restraints had felt awkward and embarrassing, but completely worth it once she saw him bound, spread-eagle, to his own bed. Padded, leather, buckled straps held each of his limbs quite securely in place. His body was hers to look upon, to touch, to feel. Clark felt arousal the moment he saw her scrutinizing him. "Like what you see?" He asked, playfully.

"Mmm, more than you know," Louis said, quietly, climbing atop him. She planted a kiss on his lips; his body responded accordingly, begging for her attention. His inability to grab her and encourage her to move on was both utterly frustrating and exciting. He was completely at her mercy, not a place that he'd ever want to be with anyone else. Her lips caressed his jawline, and he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. It made him shiver. "Clark?" She whispered, nipping at his ear. Her hands lingered on his waist, teasing.

"Yes, Louis?" He tried not to sound too breathy, with little success. Her fingers curled slightly, firmly gripping his hipbones. "Why didn't you ever tell me you were ticklish?" Clark's breath hitched in his throat. "Wh-what?" His muscles tensed. He had so hoped she didn't notice him react to her touch the other night. He was so certain that she hadn't seen it. "What are you talking about, Louis?" His heart rate increased. He could feel her smile against his cheek.

"Well, I remember one time," with one finger, Louis traced the outline of his right ribcage. "I moved just so, and you...wriggled." Her finger slowed down to draw small circles. "Hah, I wriggled?" He was only stalling for time now, using every ounce of willpower not to react to the finger dancing along his side.

"Yeah, you did. You wriggled!" She sat back from him, and he whined at the loss of contact. Her left hand joined her right at his side. She made small, skritching motions. "I was kind of doing this..."

Clark made a small sound and attempted to subtly adjust his position in the restraints. This only caused Louis to smile, wide.

"Kind of like that!"

"That's not...w-wriggling..." His breath came shorter and shorter. He gave her a desperate stare. Stop. Stop tormenting me and take off that dressing gown. He hoped that if he thought it hard enough, she'd do it. This would be over, there would be no experimenting or...all thoughts trailed off when Louis' fingers traveled upward, one hand scratching across his chest and her hands landing evenly on either side of his pecs. "Um...Louis, okay, haha," Oh god, was that a giggle? "I'm...I'm ticklish."

"I knew it!" She exclaimed, applying the smallest bit of pressure to his sides. "How ticklish?"

He tried to pull his arms down to relieve the tension in his muscles. If the pressure would just ease up a tiny bit, he could..."Hahaha, actually qu-quite ticklihihish..." Oh no, that barrier was breaking down already. Once he started laughing, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. He tried to stabilize himself again, failing and melting down into more giggling. "Quite ticklish, or super ticklish?" She asked. The smile on her face was devilish.

"I don't suppose I...Louis, please, dohon't—no!" Her fingernails met his armpits, and he unwittingly yanked on the leather straps secured about his wrists. "Please please...no no no nononohohahahaha..." "Imagine it!" She exclaimed. "The great Man of Steele's greatest weakness! Observe as it's exploited by the most villainous fiend of all!" Clark could feel a blush creeping from his face to his neck as Louis' fingers continued to scrabble across the sensitive flesh under his arms. "Louis..." he laughed. "Louis, please! Hahaha...I can't...no...please...!" Giggles again devoured his words, then shifted up a pitch when she began tickling his sides just above his hips.

"Oh, god, no! Not that...ahahaha..please Louis, you have to..hahahaha!" He arched his back and twisted left to right. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. His hair was a disaster, cheeks bright crimson.

"I'm sorry, I have to what, now?"

"S...s...stop..." he closed his mouth, trying to muffle his own laughter. It lasted all of five seconds. "You know, Clark, I don't think I have to anything!" "Please...Louis please please Louis-" he broke off into a howl when her fingers moved in front of his hipbones. Her nails left a light, white marks on his hot skin. It was still quite clear that he wanted her to touch him and was even perhaps inadvertently turned on by what she was doing to him right now.

"No! Please! Not there, Louis, no! Nohoho...hahaha!" Whatever he said next was jumbled with so many "haha"s, "no, god no,"s, and breathy giggles that it was totally incoherent. "Sorry Clark, I didn't quite catch that." She began scratching the flesh just below his hipbones, where his legs met his waist. He moaned loudly when she kissed his spasming belly. A beautiful idea crossed her mind. She stuck out her tongue, swiping it around the inside of his navel.

"Oh my god!" Clark shouted, the double input sending a shock wave through his body. Despite being far too warm, his skin pricked into little goosebumps. "Gosh, Clark, where aren't ya ticklish?" Teased Louis.

Tears brimmed his crystal-blue eyes. He ceased laughter in favor of erratic, desperate breathing. "Please...Louis...can't take it..." he panted. For a moment, she stopped tickling. He gasped for air, chest heaving violently. Louis made due note of his extremely-prominent erection, deciding not to keep this up for too much longer.

Clark was still smiling some. "Gosh," he managed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were secretly some dark mistress of torture!"

"Oh, that good, am I?" She laughed, testing under his left knee for ticklishness.

He kicked and cried out sharply, only eliciting a bigger smile from Louis.

"You're seriously that ticklish?" She asked, shaking her head slightly. "I thought I was ticklish."

"Oh you are, are you?" He responded eyebrow cocked.

Louis snorted. "Like you're going to find out. There's no way I'm letting you out of those anytime soon!"

He groaned and shifted his hips, yanking against the headboard with all his might. "Louis, please, I need some relief. Louis? What are you...no! Don't! Don't you dare! Please, Louis...anywhere but there, please please please..." he clenched his eyes shut and curled his toes. Louis had made her way to the end of the bed, and her hands hovered threateningly over his feet.

"I can't take it on my feet, Louis, please don't! I'll scream! I'll cry! I'll...Louis! Don't!"

Her hands came closer, and she pried the toes of his left foot back. She marveled for a moment at the alabaster skin on the soles of his perfectly-proportioned feet, pulled taut now and leaving his entire foot vulnerable.

"I'll turn evil!" He shouted. "I'll kill everyone in all of Metropolis! I'll kill the President of the United States! Louis, please-" he shrieked as a fingernail dragged across the ball of his foot, his legs trembling in a violent attempt to kick away the offensive hand. She continued to draw the nail into a curved line until she reached the high point of his arch. Clark arched his back, shouting and begging and laughing, tears streaking his face. She scratched the spot over and over, until Clark fell back onto the bed, somewhere between hysterical laughter and sobbing. When she paused momentarily, words spilled out of his mouth.

"Please, Louis, I'll do anything ya want! I'll proofread your articles, I'll take you to see the Hollywood sign! Are you listening, Louis? C'mon, please don't...please...just kiss me. Come here and kiss me. Oh! Oh god.." He startled when she rested her hand soothingly on his inner thigh, moaning in anticipation as her touch neared his straining member.

"I want to go to Ireland," she said, quietly. "Yeah? Good, I'll take you there!" He was still panting. Her hands stopped moving, and he whimpered. "I'm begging you..." "Begging is good," she replied. "Begging is very good." Keeping her hands firmly on his thighs, she climbed atop the bed again and sat between his knees, kissing a line from his navel, up to his neck, and back down again, all the way to his lower belly. Clark's panic had just begun to fade completely back into arousal when her fingers started up again.

"NO!" Clark cried. He tried to clap his legs together and trap her hands, but his ankles were tied down too tightly. High on the inside of his thighs, her hands worked, scratching and goosing, never enough to hurt, only enough to send him spiraling again into hysterics. "We were just begging," said Louis, wearing an evil smirk. She worked her way down to the inside of his knees, and he drew a sharp breath, laughter more spastic, breathing more erratic. "You should do some more of that."

"B-b-begging?"

"Yep. You beg to my satisfaction, and I'll...satisfy...you..." she let off tickling him momentarily to touch him lightly, and he gasped. His hips gave an involuntary buck. "Really?"

She smiled. "I promise." Without any more hesitation, she went back to tickling his knees, working her way back and forth between knee and thigh.

Clark guffawed madly, arms and legs long since weak from struggling. "Louis, please, I beg...hahaha!" He tried to muster the strength to speak. "I beg of you! If you stop tickling, I'll be your slave! I'll do your bidding, day and night! Ahhahaha..." His words were again lost in a sea of giggles.

"You're gonna have to do better than that." Louis chided.

Clark moaned loudly and arched his back. "I can't take it, Louis!" He cried. "Please, I'm begging you! I beg I plead, I..." he tried again at the restraints, one last effort before falling, spent, to the bed. He was helpless. "Please, Louis! Please please please..." The laughter almost gave way completely to tears. "I am at your mercy, and I am begging you for it!"

"Well, when you put it like that..." she stopped, hands coming to a rest. Clark's entire upper body had turned a lovely shade of pink, tears flowing from his eyes. Hair stuck to his forehead, giving him an adorable, amused look. The veins in his arms and neck stood out from the strain. Louis stooped to plant a kiss on each of his knees, then his thighs, then his hips. She looked up at him, and Clark noticed, now that he had the ability to think clearly, that her own face had flushed, lips slightly swollen and parted with desire for him.

"You'll be the death of me," panted the mild-mannered news reporter. Louis offered him a water, bending the straw so that he could drink at the angle he was laying.

"Let's don't plan on that," she mumbled. "Now, I think I have a deal to keep good on." She lifted her gown above her head, and Clark instantly forgot every moment of torment she'd just subjected him to. It was totally worth it.