Caught
Finn and Nick- “Based on Prompt 81-”Stop moving! I’m going to have to start counting all over again!”
She didn’t stand a chance when he pounced, trapping her on the couch, locking her in his embrace, pinning her to the cushions. She laughs hard and squirms more frantically when he slides his hand up her side to her ribs. She knows what game he’s going to play and her stomach flips in anticipation. He informs her that her ribs haven’t been counted in ages, he draws out the word, lowering his voice to drive her wild. They need to be checked in case she’s missing any, a silly concept that makes her giggle uncontrollably before he even starts.
When he does, his fingers make tiny pinches on each rib as he counts out loud. She bursts out laughing, twisting around, wanting to escape but also never wanting this moment to stop. Her frantic movements of course make him “lose count” after a few minutes.
“You should probably stop moving”, he informs her loudly over her laughter, “or I’m going to have to start counting all over again.”
“No,” she whines, drawn out, punctuated by giggles and more squirming, her hands making wild grabs at his, desperate but unable to stop him.
He begins again, fingers pinching at the bottom of her rib cage and counting agonizingly slow, one, two, three, moving up, tickling, tapping, digging into her soft muscle and each tender rib. She howls with laughter when he does this on purpose just to have an excuse to keep his hands on her as long as possible. It’s the fun she asked for when she stole the TV remote. He had never been so affectionate and playful with anyone the way he is with her, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. Her laughter is hearty, echoing from deep within her chest. She throws her head back laughing uncontrollably, purely her.
He finished counting on one side only to turn her and start counting the same tickling way on her other side. By now she has no energy left to fight. All she can do is laugh and melt into his affections, savoring the tingly feeling in her stomach every time he tickles her. He sets her nerves on fire and makes her want to be closer to him even when she can’t breathe from laughing. When he pinches her final rib at last, he eases up and let’s her breathe again. He savors the way she continues to giggle, still pinned to the couch, vulnerable but safe, smitten, head over heels in love with him and the way they play. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, whispering “Gotcha” against her skin before nuzzling in, peppering kisses, eliciting more giggles from her and an adorable squeal of delight.
She started all of this, on purpose of course, stealing the remote to get him riled up. It was too easy to let herself get caught by him and wrapped up in tickles this way. She would gladly hide every remote, every set of keys, fantasy football papers, whatever she could get her hands on if it meant he would get his hands on her.
