Dream Team (Plus Friends) - Tickle AU

Phantasmagoria (Dream ft. George x Sapnap)

    "Alright, for real. I'm dropping it.", his own voice. The sound of a door and scuffling behind him. A grossly wet cloth suddenly clamping over his entire face and the terrible chemical smell overwhelming him.
    
     That's all he could remember. His hazy memories held no clues to the captors or their reasons.

     Dream's calculative brain told him to calm down and think. Fucking think. He stayed still, limp in the position he awoke in. He took inventory of the surroundings he could make out even with the blindfold on. He was sat in a chair with his ankles and wrists strapped down to the arms and legs. The long silence told him he was alone, not a hint of breathing or shuffling he could hear. Nothing on him hurt and he was still wearing clothes, so he counted that as a positive. Though, he was absent his hoodie and instead was just wearing the t-shirt he had on underneath, the fabric familiar. He felt air on his knees and shifted his leg slightly to determine if he was still in his basketball shorts; he was.

     He focused as hard as he could on the details he had, not letting his mind fall into panic or despair. Maybe this was some elaborate prank. Maybe he wasn't in danger. Was Mr.Beast in town?

     Regretfully, his entire body flinched at the sudden sound of a door slamming open and heavy footsteps coming in.
"He's up!".
"Alright, take his blindfold off.". Dream strained to place the voices, but couldn't. He heard a door shut with a force that must have come from a kick before his blindfold was torn off. Two Dream-masked men stood in front of him. He held back a whimper, looking between them.
"We aren't going to hurt you.", left-mask said. The masked man on the right tilted his head back and forth in partial agreement, unnerving Dream.
"What do you want?", he croaked, speaking for the first time in god knows how long. He cleared his throat and swallowed down the lump there before choking on it. The masked men looked at each other.

     Before Dream could ask more questions, they flanked him and there were suddenly two hands on either side of him tickling into his sides. He yelped and jerked back against the back of his chair, trapped in place.
"Hey!!", he cried, then burst out laughing as the maddening sensation continued against his sensitive sides. The thin t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the fingers grabbing and squeezing at him. "Stop! Please! What is this!!". He writhed in place, not going anywhere.
"Tickle tickle!", right-mask sang.

     Dream couldn't believe it. All the fear and confusion drained out of him while he laughed himself silly, two pairs of skilled fingers attacked his sides and ribs. He thrashed in place, but his wrists and ankles were held firmly in place. Defenseless, and oh so ticklish. He was fucked.
"What do you want!", he yelled, desperation clear.
"Well, first we want to know your worst spot.".
"What?!". The masked men laughed and looked at each other briefly, some inside joke floating between them. A firm hand latched onto his thigh right above his knee and he screamed. The position his leg was trapped in left that particular spot horribly vulnerable. He fell into painful wheezing for a few seconds before he barked out a desperate laugh. "Stop!! Please! What the fuck!!". He was shaking at this point, overwhelmed with the ticklish energy rushing through him. It felt everywhere. Fingers suddenly playing with his rib bones had him almost convulsing in place. The squeezes at his sides had the most embarrassing squeaks escaping him. The hand playing with the sensitive muscle of his thigh was maddening. When another hand started teasing at his kneecap he dropped his head back with a tortured wail, the tears finally sliding down his cheeks. "Why!!!", he screamed. "Why!!".

     The masked men were quiet. The blank smiling faces just watching him break apart under the torture. Dream wheezed, thrashing in place helplessly. It was definitely the worst he had ever been tickled and it had only been a few minutes. His skin tingled and his brain was fuzzy.
"Is this your worst spot?", one of the men asked, pinching around his thigh.
"Why are you tickling me?!", he struggled out through wheezes and choked laughter. One of the men scoffed.
"Because you're ticklish.", he deadpanned and walked around his back, grabbing at the spot between his shoulders and neck. Dream squealed, wiggling in place and scrunching up.
"Quit it!!". His face burned with a combination of breathless straining and embarrassment. How humiliating to be squealing in the presence of strangers and so weak to a ticklish touch.