#stranger things tickling

[tiklart]

I tore my ACL so I be laying down binge watching Stranger Things

Have these two live happily ever after 🧌

[harringtonsslvt]

୨ৎ BNBG (I'LL RING A BRAND-NEW BABY GIRL)

⤷ tags: romantic, fluff, tickles if u squint, 1.5k words ⤷ summary: you think you're just a brand new girl for steve to fuck.

by then, you were long asleep in his arms. he set you down on the car seat, pulling your seatbelt on and being careful not to wake you. kissing your forehead, he whispered some words he knew you would never hear- yet he needed to spell them out for the stars to see.

“fuckin’ hell, y/n,” steve nearly cried in exasperation when he saw your familiar figure, albeit with one too many twigs tangled in your normally slick, smooth hair.

“i told you not to looking for the fuckin’ demogorgon. and what do you do?” he wringed his hands up in the air, annoyance coating his pupils. “you go looking for the fucking demogorgon.”

you rolled your eyes. “steve, i’m literally fine. i hav-”

“no!” he yelled at you, and you shrunk back, suddenly timid.

“i- fuck. i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry,” he whispered, running a hand through his immaculate, perfect hair.

you looked up at him. through his farrah fawcett hair, you picked up on something in his eyes. something beyond his angry face- was that fear? wait, what the fuck- steve was crying. steve harrington, so unlike the nonchalant and cold demeanor of king steve- he was crying. crying because his girl had run off monster hunting.

“i can’t-” he sniffed sheepishly, hiccups laced within his shaking voice. “i can’t lose you. please don’t do this again.”

“please,” he begged again, rough hands cupping your face so tenderly you almost started breaking down with him.

“okay,” you nodded feverently, just to get him to stop.

it scared you shitless to see steve so vulnerable, so fragile. his fingers trembled around your nape and he pulled you in for a kiss, other arm wrapping around the curve of your waist. the kiss was slow, passionate, something out of a movie. his lips felt soft against yours- traces of salty tears within it and you pushed into his mouth desperately, linking your tongues in a seductive tango.

when steve kissed you- time stopped. you could feel his pulse in your veins, heartbeat growing faster and faster inside of you. when you opened your eyelids to look at him, you could’ve cried at the proximity of him, at the intimacy of it all. he was so beautiful. long, brown eyelashes coated his eyes and you wondered- how many times has steve harrington cried in his life? not for those random girls he hooked up with at parties, you hoped.

how many tiny fingers have traced up and down his biceps like you have? how many lips have touched his? how many hands have found themselves entrapped into his gel casted hair, pulling and tugging in pleasure? waves of nausea coursed through you. the next whore, you bet tommy h and carol call you. you pushed steve away. he blinked in confusion, clearly still entranced by the euphoric kiss.

your heart splintered as you turned to walk away and he grabbed your wrist, spinning you back into his grasp. a breath hitched in your throat as you pressed up against him. you could feel his bulge against your core, sending heatwaves straight through.

“what are you doing?” steve’s voice was entwined with hurt.

“i just- i just can’t.”

you couldn’t look at him. one more second of those puppy dog eyes boring into your soul would’ve made you run- not away from the heart breaking manwhore, but towards him. you were playing a dangerous game- and if you wanted to get out with your heart intact, you had to leave before it was too late.

you flung your wrist out of his hand and moved away.

“can’t what?”

you stopped. something must’ve possessed you at the moment because your lips suddenly started to quiver- a telltale sign of tears to come. fuck. sobs racked your torso and you almost collapsed to the ground. your hands frantically wiped at your eyes, desperate.

“hey, hey,” within seconds, steve had jogged up to you.

with his hand on your lower back, so gentle you could fall into his touch, he stroked your hair out of your face with his other hand, meticulously tucking it behind your ear. wet tears cascaded down your cheeks and you wanted to push steve away in embarrassment.

“talk to me, baby,” steve wrapped you into a tight embrace, and you damn near bawled into his new denim jacket- he didn’t seem to mind, only squeezing you tighter. he waited patiently for your breathing to calm, working his hands up and down your back in a soothing rhythm.

“you- you’re just fucking going to leave me.” the words left your mouth, barely a whisper, but hanging in the air.

“what?” incredulous, steve placed his fingers under your chin and lifted your head. you couldn’t look at him.

“i’m just another whore you can use to get off of and dump,” you snivelled pathetically, feeling his gaze on your snotty self. he won’t even want to fuck this mess of a person now- mascara running down your face, hair tangled.

“what?” steve echoed, sounding almost angry. “who told you that?”

“come on, steve,” you laughed, but without humour. bitterness coated your voice. “i know how this works. king steve pity fucks the new little bitch for a few months and leaves."

you finally looked up at steve. the aghast on his features was unmistakable. it was honestly impressive how offended he genuinely seemed. the creases on his forehead were evident as he furrowed his brows, nose twitching adorably- you’d be lying if you said you weren’t endeared. yet another manipulative trait.

“just fuck off, harrington.” tears blurring your vision, you turned to leave once again.

“y/n, stop.” something cracked in his voice. he held your face in the palm of his hands- somehow, you let him. your watery eyes hesitantly met his. you both started crying, just this messy symphony of anguished sobs echoing through the cold air of hawkins woods.

“i fucked those girls because- because-” steve swallowed heavily, eyes glossed over with something- something clearly affecting him to a higher level. “because i wanted to feel something. anything. my dad- he- he never let me be sentimental. i grew up feeling empty. being with those girls- they never meant anything. not like you. no matter how many of them i slept with- i went home empty. you, baby, you’ve filled me with so much i’m overwhelmed by you.”

“you’ve filled me with so much love and so much affection i don’t know how to act. i don’t-” steve’s eyes drooped almost shamefully. “i don’t know how to love. but i’m trying.”

steve’s thumb swipped across your cheekbone, taking oceans of tears with it. “baby, you’re the best person i’ve ever met. i love your hair. i love your eyes. i love your gorgeous, gorgeous face. i love how funny you are. i love how your eyes light up when you’re enthusiastic about something and i love the way you mess with my hair.

“i love you for you. i’d be lying if i said i didn’t-” steve stuttered, as if struggling to get the right words out. “i just - i really love you, baby.” 

you flushed, trying hold back your smile- he couldn’t win you back that easily. but he already has. you'd go through the depths of hell and back if it meant you would still be his baby girl. you could sense the genuinity steve was speaking with- feeling it deep in your veins. steve harrington loves me, you wanted to tell the world. fuckin’ hell.

steve’s demeanor brightened at your twinkling eyes and in classic harrington style, he took the opportunity to tease. “why would i keep you around for sex anyway? you suck at giving head.”

“it was my first time, steve,” you whined, but it pulled a dopey grin on your face. “how the fuck was i supposed to not choke on it?"

"you make me feel good about myself," steve winked.

you rolled your eyes. "not everyone has a body count of the entire hawkins female population, steve."

steve gasped indignantly and you giggled, satisfied.

“hey, wanna know what else i love you for?”

oh, bless your poor, innocent soul. “what?”

steve hoisted you up by the hips, entrapping you between the tree trunk and his toned torso, easily towering over you, causing you to yelp. without warning, he wrapped his hands around your ribcage and started tickling you.

“whahat thehe fuhuck?” you immediately burst into uncharacteristic giggles, hands grabbing but never able to stop steve’s quick, methodical squeezing along your stomach.

“i just love how insanely ticklish you are, baby,” steve beamed, and you groaned through your laughter.

“i- ihi am gohoing toho muhurder you,” you seethed and attempted (and failed) to look serious.

“aww, that’s a shame. who’s going to tickle you then?”

you flushed. your enjoyment of this form of affection hadn’t gone unnoticed. steve wasn’t too mean, though, considering your energy was half sapped from running in the woods and crying your brains out. he gave a final scribble to your hips and carried you bridal style, crashing through the remainder of the woods and reveled in the familiar sight of his red beamer.

by then, you were long asleep in his arms. he set you down on the car seat, pulling your seatbelt on and being careful not to wake you. kissing your forehead, he whispered some words he knew you would never hear- yet he needed to spell them out for the stars to see.

“you’ll be my first and last love.”

join my taglist! ♡ m.list

[pockysfluffiez]

Question of the day, can pocky lock the actual fuck in. Anwser:fuck nah

[mimimunson]

steddie / ticklish!eddie / one shot

cw- tickling, swearing

wayne notices everything. eagle eyed he picked up on how close steve and his nephew were before they even told him they were dating. he very quickly saw how much eddie liked to fluster steve around their friends, he thought it was only fair that he gave the lad some ammo on eddie.

“when he was younger and showing off, i just used to poke his sides a little, that was quickly an attitude adjustment.” he whispered to steve when eddie had gone to the bathroom. steve’s eyes gleamed at the information, he would never have guessed eddie was ticklish, but slowly everything started adding up.

eddie re-entered the room and steve had a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

“what the fuck did you tell him?” eddie groaned making direct eye contact with his uncle, pointing his finger accusingly.

he was so screwed.

[hotwritergf]

Knismo!Eddie who rolls his D-20 and asks them if he should tickle Steve.

Eddie: “Okay so odd numbers mean I tickle you, and even numbers mean you get tickled by me!”

Steve: “that’s the same thi- fuUCK”

& Eddie is just relentless because ‘the dice are never wrong!’

[ticklishraspberries]

Ren Faire (Eddie/Steve)

Summary: Steve, Eddie, and Robin go to a Renaissance Fair and see some interesting demonstrations. (This fic is for my lovely friend @gigglyrambles!! I literally just pulled this whole plot out of my ass and wrote it in one sitting, so I really hope you like it, LOL. Also, shoutout to @wordstrings because I know she has written something similar for Our Flag Means Death, I hope you don't mind me taking inspiration!!)

Steve isn’t sure how he ended up being dragged along to a Renaissance Fair with none other than Robin and Eddie, but he found it hard to say no to either of their puppy dog eyes and incessant begging.

His outfit is simple, consisting of a white, long-sleeved shirt with laces at the neckline, tight brown pants, and brown boots. He feels only a little bit ridiculous, but after seeing what his friends are wearing, he supposes he isn’t the weirdest looking one.

Eddie is decked out in black, an intricately detailed top with ruffles and buttons. A fake sword sits in a holder on his waist. Robin has gone for a more masculine look, a cloak over her shoulders and a bow and arrow in her hand.

“Screw historical accuracy,” she’d said.

“The fact that you’re a girl isn’t the problem, it’s that you couldn’t hit a moving target with an arrow to save your life,” Eddie had teased, and Robin had elbowed him in the ribs, making Steve laugh.

Now that they’ve arrived, Steve has relaxed a bit. He used to feel out of place whenever he attended events that he wouldn’t have been caught dead at in high school. Corroded Coffin concerts, DnD campaigns, and that one time he drove Eddie and Robin to the nearest gay bar in Indiana. It had definitely been more awkward sober, and before he realized that he’s bisexual, and could have totally had more fun if he’d been aware of and okay with that information at the time.

He’s sort of glad he wasn’t, though, because kissing Eddie Munson during a childish game of truth or dare was a much funnier way to have your queer awakening, and dating Eddie Munson is way more fun than hooking up with random guys in a bar.

“They have really good beer here,” Eddie comments, to which Steve holds up his car keys and jingles them. No medieval mead is going to keep him from being the designated driver.

“I can drive us home,” Robin says, absolutely joking, but Steve still gives her a horrified look and makes a show of sliding his keys back into his pocket, patting the denim for safe keeping. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he flicks her cheek.

Eddie does end up getting some beer, and Steve allows himself a few sips. They’ll be here for at least a few hours, he’ll surely sober up by then. He also samples the gigantic turkey leg that Eddie gets, and Robin wrinkles her nose in disgust at the messy nature of the food.

As they walk around, Steve finds himself getting into the spirit more than he had expected. They eat, watch musical performances, and shop at the little stalls set up by various vendors. Eddie buys a few rings for himself, and buys a handmade mug for Uncle Wayne. Robin indulges in candles and soaps, and even dares to see a fortune teller.

“She said that I’ll meet my future husband soon,” she says, giggling. “Clearly she’s a fraud, or she’d know I’m not interested.”

When Robin runs off to find a bathroom, somehow, Eddie and Steve end up standing around a demonstration about medieval punishments and torture, which Steve expects to be gruesome, and quickly finds he would rather hear gritty, gorey details than stand her and watch this happen.

A pretty girl, probably around their age, is locked into a pair of wooden stocks, and—

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Eddie looks absolutely delighted as he leans in close. “What’s wrong, Stevie? The demonstration isn’t bothering you, is it?” he asks. His cheeks are flushed, too. A few months ago, Eddie would probably be the one stuttering and staring at the ground right now, but ever since he introduced this little world to Steve, he’s gained a confidence about it that only comes out when he gets to tease Steve into oblivion.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up, I’m trying to watch. Maybe I can get some pointers from these guys.”

‘These guys’ refers to the two men who have started tickling the girl’s trapped feet, and frantic giggles fill the air and make Steve’s stomach flip.

“Oh, she’s handling this better than you would,” Eddie continues to tease. “I’d already be called every insult under the sun if you couldn’t kick me instead.”

“I will kick you right now,” Steve threatens. It’s a complete lie. He’s frozen to the spot on the grass, torn between watching and focusing on the grass. Everyone else in the crowd is behaving like this is so normal, no big deal, just a silly show.

One of the men has moved behind the girl to tickle her ribs, her arms secured above her head. Steve crosses his arms over his chest, subconsciously protecting his own sensitive spots, like just watching her could tickle him, too.

“You love that spot,” Eddie coos. “You make the cutest sounds when I tickle you there.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Steve grits out.

“Sure you will, sweetheart. Can it wait ‘til after I’ve made you cry real pretty for me?”

Just then, Robin appears at his side. “This looks like my worst nightmare,” she says. “I hope this girl is getting paid well.”

Steve makes a noise of agreement, but can’t bring himself to look over. Eddie Munson is going to be the fucking death of him. Thankfully, Robin is immediately bored of the display and drags them off to explore. Eddie subtly gives Steve’s side a quick pinch as he walks past him, and Steve suddenly can’t wait to go home.

***

“You are a fucking menace,” Steve accuses the moment they’ve made it through the door.

His parents aren’t home, Robin was dropped off back at her house, and now, Steve is alone with Eddie for the first time all day, and he refuses to voice how excited he is for whatever Eddie’s got planned.

But Eddie just grins, tugging off the more elaborate pieces of his costume, leaving himself in socks, boxers, and a white t-shirt. He makes his way to the kitchen, comes back with two cans of beer, sits on the couch like he isn’t ignoring the clear tension in the room.

Steve gapes at him for a minute before joining him on the couch, kicking off his boots and taking a beer as well. Maybe Eddie’s changed his mind…Maybe he just isn’t the mood, and Steve isn’t going to pressure him into anything.

But…Well, he has a sneaking suspicion that isn’t the case at all.

“If you’re waiting for me to ask, it’s not gonna happen,” he says.

“Ask for what?” Eddie tilts his head curiously, but there’s a glint in his eye that proves Steve’s theory.

“Nothing,” Steve replies, playing along. “All that talk back there just made me think you had a plan for when we got home. But if you’re not interested, that’s fine too.”

“Did you want me to have a plan?”

Steve huffs. “Maybe. But if you don’t, then let’s forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon baby,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close. “All you’ve gotta do is ask if you want it so bad.”

His cheeks burn. Stubborn as ever, he shakes his head.

Eddie sighs with exaggerated disappointment. “If you insist. I guess I’ll just keep my hands to myself tonight…”

“Good,” Steve says, and turns the television on.

It takes two beers and a stupid scene in a film to break him. It’s a quick, barely there tickle, but the character’s laugh makes Steve perk up like a dog hearing a doorbell ring.

“Fine,” he says.

“What’s fine?” Eddie asks.

“Just fucking tickle me, you dick.”

Eddie grins and wastes no time, lunging across the couch and pinning Steve to the cushions.

“I knew you’d crack eventually, sweetheart,” he teases. “Sorry we don’t have quite the same set up, but I’ll hold you down real nice, okay?”

Steve is already grinning. He can’t help it, he’s so lovestruck by his boyfriend and desperate to laugh his head off. And laugh he does when Eddie goes straight for his ribs, scratching at the dips between each little bone.

“There’s that pretty sound,” he says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw that is both sweet and ticklish under the current circumstance.

The stupid shirt with the laces is pulled over his head and discarded on the floor, and Eddie pins Steve’s wrists and tells him to stay still before exploring each ticklish spot on his torso, making him shriek and cackle and snort like a fool.

He doesn’t stay still for very long, arms shooting down to his sides when Eddie attacks his belly with blunt fingernails, and Eddie scolds him but doesn’t stop.

As he squirms on the couch, giggling like mad, he wonders if they sell some of those bondage contraptions there. He thinks that they should go back to the Ren Faire sometime. 

[messwritesstufff]

Far from Fragile

(TickleTober Day 20: Relentless)

Summary: Will is tired of being treated like he’s fragile. (Takes place during season 2)

Pairing: None obv

Word Count: 1,262

A/N: I can’t believe Halloween is already 11 days away, wtf is happening :’)

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this! Jonathan is such a good big brother and I absolutely adore their bond!

———————————————————

It had been a couple months since Will had returned from the upside down. It hadn’t been easy on any of them, but it was certainly the hardest on Will.

Will had always been a very observant kid and he could feel how people were treating him; weak, fragile, and incapable.

One evening, the youngest Byers was presumably hiding away in his room.

Normally, the younger would be sitting at the kitchen table, doodling away without a care in the world, enjoying the presence of either Jonathan or Joyce.

Jonathan knew more than anyone that sometimes, people just needed some alone time. But this had been going on for days, and he was starting to worry.

Walking down the hall with the intention of returning to his own quarters, he eyed the open door to Will’s room. With a sigh, he started walking towards the entrance.

He poked his head in and knocked to make his presence known, spotting his little brother situated on his bed, sketching away in his sketchbook with a pensive expression.

“Hey, buddy. Whatcha drawing?” Asked the elder, casually plopping down across from Will.

The younger’s gaze flickered up to meet Jonathan’s before returning to his artwork. “Halloween stuff.” He responded blankly, keeping his head down.

This only fueled the older brother’s concern.

“Will, are you okay? You know you can talk to me about anything…” Speaking in a gentle manner, he placed a tender hand on Will’s shoulder, looking at him with utmost care.

Suddenly, Will threw Jonathan’s hand away and tossed his drawings to the floor, eyes full of frustration.

“Just stop, okay?! I’m not a baby and I don’t need everyone treating me like one!” The kid snapped, taking the older by surprise.

Will had never lashed out on him like this. If he wasn’t worried before, he definitely was now.

“What are you talking about? Will, I treat you like this because you’re my little brother and I care about you.” He tried to reason, seeing the defensiveness in Will’s eyes.

“Yeah, well I’m not fragile and I don’t need you to treat me like I am!”

Seeing that his efforts weren’t getting through, Jonathan decided to try something else.

If Will wanted to stop being treated like he was fragile, then Jonathan would do just that.

“You know what? Fine. You asked for it!”

Before the youngest Byers could ask any questions, his older brother pulled him into a bear hug, growling like a vicious monster.

“Gotcha! Prepare to be the tickle monster’s dinner!”

Jonathan’s nimble fingers began to dance and wriggle all over his brother’s torso, attacking each spot with skill and precision.

“Eek! Jonathahahahan! T-That tickles!” Will squealed, squirming and wriggling in the older’s grasp, though he was unable to evade the tickles.

Jonathan smiled at the sound of his brother’s genuine laughter, a sound that had become quite rare as of late. Of course, nobody could blame the kid for acting the way he had been. He’d been through hell and back and was still struggling to get back to normal, every shadow drowning him in fear and anxiety.

Will needed this, and Jonathan was more than happy to give it to him.

“That’s the idea, smarty-pants. Now let’s see if Will the Wise can handle… this!”

The photographer rolled over and pinned Will to the bed, forcing his arms above his head and holding them down before teasingly hovering his fingers over one of the exposed armpits.

The kid’s eyes widened and he started to thrash, tugging at his arms to no avail.

“Nooo, dohohon’t!!” He protested, eyeing the wiggling fingers that were getting too close for comfort.

With a devilish grin, Jonathan let his digits dig into the sensitive hollows, earning a high pitched shriek from his little brother.

“NOHOHOO! STOHOHOP!”

The reaction only added to the elder’s delight.

“Stop?! Oh, I’m just getting started!”

Will’s laughter continued to fill the room, bright and bubbly. It was a sound that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

Jonathan was relentless, ignoring Will’s pleas and turning him to a squealing mess. The boy’s cheeks were a rosy shade of red and tears were prickling at the corners of his eyes which were squeezed shut in mirth; it was a sight for sore eyes.

Jonathan retracted his hand and admired the kid’s flushed happy face, letting his little brother catch his breath for the next attack.

“You remember what I said about being the tickle monster’s dinner? Well, I think he’s ready to feast!”

The younger once again burst into giggles simply at the statement, unsure what his brother had in mind.

“Nohohooo, I don’t tahaste good!” Whined Will, squirming more intensely when Jonathan started to roll up his shirt, revealing the smooth expanse of his tummy.

Getting a firm hold on Will’s sides, the elder bent down and nuzzled the soft skin, earning a little snort in response.

“The tickle monster begs to differ…”

With no further delay, the older brother started to nibble the tender skin of his little brother’s belly, being careful not to bite too hard.

Will bucked his hips and tossed his head back with unrestrained boyish laughter, the nibbling and occasional grazing of his brother’s teeth against his skin was enough to drive him crazy, but he absolutely loved it.

Will had always loved being tickled, but it had become less occurrent since he returned from the upside down, everyone seemingly not wanting to break him. But now, Jonathan wasn’t holding back. He was completely relentless and Will couldn’t ask for it to be any other way.

“Nomnomnom~ mm, ticklish tummies… the tickle monster’s favorite!” Teased Jonathan, adding playful nomming noises, knowing it would intensify the sensation for Will.

“JONATHAHAHAN, I-ITS TOO TIHIHIHICKLISH!! I CAN’T TAKE IHIHIT!”

The photographer delighted in the kid’s happy laughter, continuing to nuzzle and nibble the ticklish skin.

Sensing his brother was genuinely reaching his limits, Jonathan decided to finish his attack with one of Will’s favorite things.

Pulling away, he looked into Will’s mirthful eyes, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“The tickle monster still had room for dessert, Will… guess what his favorite dessert is~”

Will giggled, squirming with excitement and anticipation.

“W-Whahahat?..”

Jonathan leaned in to whisper into the younger’s ear.

“Raspberries!”

The youngest Byers squealed with delight, bursting into a fit of laughter that could only be described as pure.

“EHEHEE, TOO MUCH TOO MUHUHUCH! S-STOP PLEHEHEASE, JONATHAN!” He kicked and squirmed, struggling to catch his breath.

After what felt like forever, Jonathan finally relented, releasing his little brother and helping him sit up and seating himself across from the kid, reassuming their earlier placements.

“How was that for not fragile?” He asked, giving a playful shove to Will’s shoulder.

Will continued to giggle and catch his breath.

“It was fuhuhun, but really ticklish…”

Jonathan let out a chuckle of his own, reaching a hand out to ruffle his brother’s hair.

Once the younger had calmed down, he abruptly flung his arms around his big brother, catching Jonathan off guard for the second time that day.

Without a second thought, he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around the thin frame of his little brother.

“You’re the best brother ever… love you, Jonathan.”

Jonathan felt himself melt, his heart swelling with emotion.

“Love you too, buddy.”

With those words lingering in the air, the brothers remained in the embrace for awhile longer, taking comfort in each other’s presence, and Jonathan silently promised himself that the ‘tickle monster’ would be making an appearance much more often.

[tastybluesprite]

Just can’t grow out of it

Summery: Old memories resurface

Warnings: some cursing, tickling

(Also I made a part 2 here in case y’all wanted to read it after lol)

There was a silence as the pizza van made its way on the desert road. Jonathan drove, and Argyle was passed out in his own seat next to him (probably became a bit more high than usual). Meanwhile, Will and Mike were seated in the back, with Will looking out the window and Mike looking down at the map.

Mike could admit that he didn’t enjoy being in a tight van for so long. He couldn’t wait till he could finally get the opportunity to stretch his legs again. He turned looked at Will, seeing a look of boredom and exhaustion on his face. “Hey Will?” He addressed him. Will turned to his best friend, “what?” He asked. “Do you remember that one D&D game we played when Dustin almost died from a Basilisk?”

A bright smile appeared on Wills face from the comical memory and the mention of his favorite game, “y-yea I remember! He got so mad he almost flipped the whole table and ruined our campaign.” Will recounted the memory with a small laugh. Mike laughed also, “yea I remember you laughed at him for being a sore loser and he tickled you to death for pay back.”

Wills cheeks flushed at that, but Mike continued “I wonder if you’re still ticklish after all this time” Mike wondered, making Wills face become an even deeper shade of pink “o-of course not. I grew out of that kinda stuff years ago.” He insisted with a slight frantic shake of his head.

“You really shouldn’t lie Will.” Jonathan said with a smirk from the front seat, “care to tell Mike what I do to you every time you are a pain in my ass?” He asked playfully. “Shut up Jonathan!!” Will said through clenched teeth, completely flustered with embarrassment now. “You know what? I was gonna tell Mike to back off originally, but after that? Get him Mike.”

“Mike… don’t do this” Will protested desperately, not liking the look his friend was giving him as he inched closer. “M-Mike! Nohoho!!” Will protested as Mike tackled him right in his seat and started digging into his side. Will struggled and squirmed but with the little room he had from Mike being practically on top of him, he couldn’t do much but protest or take it. He went for the preferred option. “Mihihike dohohont!!!” He objected through high pitched giggles as he tried to pull his hands off of him. “Awwww what’s the matter Will the wise? Can’t take it anymore?” Mike teased with a playful grin. “Shuhut uhuhuAHGHAHAHA WAHAHAHAIT SHIHIT NOHOT THEHEIR NOT THEHEHEIR!!!!”

One thing Mike had remembered about Will from their earlier years was that he had a certain death spot right at the bottom of his ribs. Looks like he still hadn’t grown out of that particularly bad spot though. Will was kicking his legs around and squirming wildly as his hysterical laughter filled the van. Will attempted to pry his hand away from those sensitive ribs, but it was no use.

Only when Wills laughter went silent did Mike let him go. Right when he did, the lighter haired boy immediately curled in on himself, hugging at his own body to protect himself from any further attacks, as some excess giggles spilled out of his mouth. Will was panting heavily, his whole face flushed, along with his cheeks wet from tears of laughter. He rubbed at his lowest ribs to get rid of the ghost tickles. Mike found all of this endearing.

“J-jerk..” he stammered. He flinched when Mike put a hand on his back, but relaxed when he started rubbing him there soothingly to calm him down. “Sorry dude did I go to far?” Mike asked with concern. Will managed a tired smile “don’t worry I’m ok.”

Let’s just say Will was already plotting his revenge.